Posted by Major Krin “Hannibal” Lardel (Commander Air Group (CAG)) in Pre Sim - Arrival of the CAG
The aptly named USS Behemoth, a gigantic transport and resupply ship, dropped out of warp at the designated coordinates for approach to the USS Chimera. The ship was bringing supplies and replacement equipment, including a flight of new auxiliary and fighter craft. The Commanding Officer, a lithe woman wearing the red uniform of Star Fleet Command officers, tapped the arm of her center seat and said into the comms =/\= USS Chimera, this is Star Fleet Logistics and Transport vessel Behemoth. Please confirm arrival and readiness for small craft launch and retrieval. =/\= As she waited for a response, she tapped a few more commands.

In the cockpits of the Templar Class Marine Fighters attached magnetically to the outer hull, the lights went red and an automated voice said =/\= Warp complete. Prepare for deployment. =/\=

In the his own cockpit, Major Krin Lardel awoke and yawned with no sense of surprise. The Marine could sleep anywhere, but he felt most comfortable inside a cockpit. They had been at warp on the Behemoth for twelve hours. In a normal star ship, that wasn’t even noticeable. In the cramped confines and near perfect darkness of a mostly powered down fighter? Only a few could manage that. And the Major, the newly re-appointed Commanding Officer of Marine Flight Group Three-Nine-Nine, had painstakingly selected only those who had passed what many called an overly-rigorous selection process specifically for this kind of situation. The assault shuttle crews had it a bit easier, what with having windows and a space to stretch out in.

Powering up all systems, he checked the three dimensional display and then keyed his comms. =/\= All right, Three-Nine-Nine. Wakey-wakey. Systems checks and power up. All wings report in. =/\= and he waited to her from the flight team leaders that all was set.

=/\= Confirmed. Wait launch on my mark. =/\= and he opened channels to the Behemoth and the Group as a whole. =/\= Marine Flight Group to Behemoth. All wings ready for deployment. Confirm launch trajectories clear of traffic and all systems green. =/\= There was short pause and the Behemoth Captain’s voice came through. =/\= Marine Flight Group, Behemoth. All space clear and trajectories synchronized. You are green for launch on your mark. Welcome to your new home, Black Sheep. =/\= Lardel grinned at the use of the nickname he had decided on for the Group, but his voice came back flat and professional, as was typical for the Zakdorn pilot. =/\= Roger Behemoth. Three-Nine-Nine, release maglocks and engage impulse on my mark. Three… Two… One… Mark. =/\= and he brushed the controls for both the release of the magnetic locks that held his fighter to the exterior of the Behemoth and took his engines to sixty-five percent. The inertial dampeners kept him from feeling much of the inertia from the ship moving, but his years of experience told him that everything felt fine.

From the outside of the supply ship, the scene was stunning. As the forty five Templar class fighters simultaneously detached from the exterior like pollen being blown from a gigantic flower; the main cargo bay opened and spewed out dozens of assault shuttles and troop transport ships. It looked like chaos was going to ensue, all those ships flying on what seemed like intersecting and conflicting trajectories, but then…

=/\= Three-Nine-Nine…=/\= came the Major’s voice over the comms. =/\= … commence arrival and retrieval operations. =/\= As if it had been practiced for years, even though it was only two months, all almost one hundred ships maneuvered into a cohesive formation directly in front of the massive transport. At the core of the formation, four Search and Rescue ships. Surrounding them, forty transport shuttles, each with a fighter escort. Directly at the front of the formation, four more Templar fighters, each painted slightly different than the rest. And in front of them, a single fighter with a black stripe down the port side running from the fore to the aft of the fighter. All ships continued to approach the Chimera slowly, the intervals between them never fluctuating.

All the ships had the Flight Group 399 crest on the side; a circle of small, light blue stars bisected diagonally from top right to bottom left by a thick, black line. The stars on the top left were replaced by the profile of a black Earth ram, horns curved back on the side of it’s head. At the top, above the circle of stars and mascot, was the front view of the very fighter his Group was now flying: the Templar Class Fighter, looking as if it were coming straight off of the ship it was painted on.

Seeing on his tactical display that all ships were in position, Major Lardel keyed his comms and hailed the both the Behemoth and the Chimera. =/\= USS Behemoth and USS Chimera. Marine Flight Group Three-Nine-Nine, Commander Air Group Marine Corps Major Krin Lardel requesting permission to dock and begin operational build-up and preparation for deployment aboard USS Chimera. =/\=

Maj. Lardel, CAG

Rebecca was in a small, little used dining nook on a lower deck of the Behemoth as she came out of warp near the Chimera. While she hadn’t been cramped in a small cockpit, she had remained in this seat for the last hour awaiting just this. The show of watching the small ships almost fall off the larger ship was impressive. And watching them slide into formation and move like a well practiced dance was even more so. She couldn’t hear the comms, but imagined very little chatter happened between the ships.

It never failed to impress her how those men and women could maneuver in such close proximity with such precision was something she was extremely envious of. Granted, her own dance of prowess within the cramped confines of some of the science labs she had been in was impressive to others. But this was something else entirely.

As the spectacular show came to an end, she moved from the room and grabbed up her bag by the door before heading for the hanger and the shuttle that would take her and several others to their new home on the Chimera. Brunette curls tamed in a braided bun at the base of her neck, and her uniform in inspection ready form, she stepped onto the shuttle and settled in next to several crates on one side and another person on her other. She was too excited to talk and decided they all were better off contemplating the next step in their life. So she remained silent for the flight over.

Lt Rebecca Morrison
Chief Science Officer