JL Hawk & Sha'mer | Backlog | Home.. or not

Posted on 241708.13 @ 8:20am by Rear Admiral Cintia Sha'mer & Rear Admiral Indi Hawk

Mission: Reconciliation & Reconstruction [Fleet Plot]
Timeline: SD 241708.113

=/\= some time, some place =/\=

Indi entered her apartment with a groan. She hadn't been here in a couple of weeks, but it was still the mess it had been when she had left. Her boss had needed her to go on a trip to sell a huge batch of weapons, the largest one yet. It had been a difficult buyer, wanting all kinds of perks and haggling over the price until the very last minute. But now it was done; and she was home. At last.

Kicking off her shoes, she padded barefooted to the shower. It was almost an hour later before she emerged, dressed in a t shirt and loose pants. She got herself a coke from the fridge - luckily coke had a long expiration date, the rest of the stuff in her fridge didn't look too good - and put it on the small table that sat in the middle of the living room.

Reaching behind the dresser that lined the wall, she pulled out a console that looked worse for wear. It had obviously been in use for a long time. She pushed a few buttons on the padd that was attached to it and waited until a few quiet confirmation pings confirmed that he apartment had been secured. Satisfied that the perimeter was up, she sat down at the table with one leg curled beneath herself. She fired up the console and entered her Security credentials.

Half an hour later, she slammed the console shut with a deep sigh. She'd just sent off a highly encrypted report up the food chain. How long had she been doing this now? She'd been on this planet for at least two years. Her orders were clear: catch as much scum as possible. Near the end of the civil war, and as a consequence afterwards, crime had seen an incredible insurgence inside the Federation. At the time, Starfleet's choice had seemed obvious: send in as many people as possible to catch the bad guys. But now, years had passed and she wondered every day what she was still doing her. Her reports had included several requests for reassignment. She understood her duty, and would keep doing it, but she wanted to go home. And she had said so in her latest message.

=/\= Two years later, sector 001 =/\=

How long had it been? Sha'mer had lost count. Of so many things. Of days/weeks/years, of people, of locations. She was… somewhere. Somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant and nearing her destination. She was somewhen, but had no idea of what stardate it was. She didn't even exactly know where she came from or where she was going. On the rare occasions that she had time to reflect on things, Sha'mer thought that she now knew how a homing pidgeon must feel: being driven by instinct to return home.

Home. What the hell was home? It had never been a particular place for Sha'mer, though she had spent long periods on several locations. Trilista Colony, Starbase Raven… But none of those locations cried 'HOME!' No, it had never been a particular place… only a particular person, the one who knew her best of all…

And whom she hadn't seen in years. Even thinking about her filled Sha'mer with a bleak void, an emptiness deeper than the space between galaxies, one which cried out to be filled. She didn't even know if Indi was still alive, though deep down Sha'mer was convinced that she was. If Indi had died, Sha'mer felt, she would have known it, felt it, even from lightyears away.

The ship she was piloting was an old one, larger than a shuttle, smaller than a runabout, and held together with duct tape, tie wraps and something vaguely resembling hope. Since she was the only one on board Sha'mer only slept short naps. Even when she was under, she was always half alert for sudden vibrations, odd sounds or other anomalies.

After what could have been months or years – there really was no telling – the ship limped into Sector 001.



"All hail Earth!" somebody yelled from the front of Indi's ship. Laughter spread through its interior as all those young people around her saw only one thing: opportunity. Their boss had finally sent them to the center of the Federation in a bold attempt to gain even more wealth. He'd sent a combination of his best men and a couple of new (young) guys. Indi had to keep an eye on them. She hadn't bothered to send a report to warn Starfleet of their upcoming arrival. Over the years, her reports had become more and more scarce, but nobody complained. One day was about the same as the next. 'Home' and 'duty' had faded to the back of her mind in an attempt at survival. Even when the bay doors opened and revealed beautiful Earth, she didn't feel much. Just another place to sell weapons.



The old ship dropped out of warp with such a dramatic noise that Sha'mer doubted it would ever be able to enter warp again. If all went well, it should've have to. If all did not end well… Well, in that case, maybe the ship might be capable of going to warp, but her pilot most certainly wouldn't.

Sector 001, Sol sector. Sha'mer read the fragmented data of the short range scanners. Of course, the most important one, the forward facing sensor, was on the fritz again. Sha'mer treated it to the patented 'Sha'mer school of Engineering': she reached for the improvised cane behind her and hit it against the casing, hard. With a wheezing sound, the sensor panel came to life.

Traffic. There was traffic around her, but not much. Not much at all. Nothing compared to what it was like in, in, well, back when. A few shuttles, a few cargo ships.. Spacedock was still up there, gleaming brightly, like a promise of better times to come. Sha'mer regarded it impassively. For her, all promises felt empty. Maybe, if she ever reached a place where she could actually sleep a week or two, maybe then she could make plans for the future. For a future. But for now, the pigeon had almost reached home.

She sent a message into the well, not caring who would answer, the station or a spaceport on the planet. "Private vessel 10358, inbound for Earth, requesting permission to land."

"Permission granted to land in Bay 38 Alpha," the static reply came few moments later.



Down in the bay, Indi frowned slightly and halted mid step. There was something. Something. She couldn't pinpoint it. Something brushing the back of her mind. Familiar yet unknown. It was only there for a very brief heartbeat. She inhaled deeply, wondering if Earth was playing tricks on her. The guys walking in front of her, had already reached the outside doors. Forcing herself in motion, she quickly hurried to catch up with them.



Spacedock, thank the stars.

Taking this barge down the well without falling apart would be an enormous challenge. Then again, trying to brake quickly without, hah, breaking would be interesting as well.

Well, there was the old pilot's saying about 'Any landing you could walk away from was a good landing'. Or limp away, or drag, if that was what it took.

The ship responded sluggishly to her commands. Sha'mer toggled the comm system again. "Bay 38 Alpha, acknowledged. Be aware I might be coming in hot." She manually entered the approach vector into the nav computer, only to hear the warbling bleep of 'null command'. Nothing that a simple reset wouldn't solve – only the reset would take a minute longer than she actually had.

Screw that. She had flown in worse conditions than this. Sha'mer pulled the plug on the nav computer and felt the controls come alive under her hands. The space station loomed before her, growing larger by the second – too large too fast.

Her hands flew over the console, her eyes flickered from readouts to the viewscreen ahead and back. She had lost nothing of her old deftness – she came alive when she flew.

"Acknowledged," the station sent. "We have you on monitor."

Well, that was a good thing, she supposed. They'd have a nice view of her going SPLAT if she miscalculated or mis-timed even once.

Down on the planet, they were ignorant about the tight spot Sha'mer was in. But Indi was still distracted by what she'd felt. They'd boarded a transport that had been awaiting them and were now speeding away from the ship. The nagging in the back of her mind seemed to fade. Her mood seemed to shift with every inch they were putting between them and the landing area. She closed her eyes to hold onto it as long as possible, unknown and yet familiar, but it was slipping fast.

The open doors of bay 38 Alpha loomed wide before her and the small ship hurled towards them. Sha'mer frantically slammed the thrusters into full reverse and steered the ship inside. It bounced against the deck, leaving a dark stain, bounced up, hit the deck again a bit deeper in. "Brake brake BRAKE!" Sha'mer muttered through clenched teeth, the back wall of the bay was coming frighteningly close. Another bounce, another jolt, and this time metal screamed, something was torn away. The ship began to spin, but it began to slow at last at last at last-

It crashed into the back wall, but not with enough momentum to go SPLAT. The ship, or what was left of it, finally came to a halt jammed up against the back wall. Half the control panel in front of her lit up red, reporting damaged or outright missing systems. Some panels were down completely, only one or two still showed green. Sha'mer killed all power and sighed. 'Any landing one could walk away from…' Well, she had arrived. Sort of.

At the moment the ship came to a stop, Indi cursed down on the planet. The curse was loud enough to attract everyone's attention. She waved them off and rubbed her head as if she'd hit it on something. In a way, she had. She'd had the feeling that she was getting there. Close to identifying what was nagging her mind. And now it was gone...

--

RAdm Indi Hawk
(soon to be) Senior Security Advisor
Alpha Quadrant

&

RAdm. Cintia Sha'mer
As of yet unassigned