Hawkeye Island

Task Force 86

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Welcome Back (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on Fri Jun 12th, 2020 @ 8:05pm by Captain Clay Teller
Edited on on Fri Jun 12th, 2020 @ 8:10pm

Mission: Welcome Back
Location: Hawkeye Island

Stepping out of the runabout, Clay had to shield his eyes with his hand over his brow. The thrusters had kicked up a ton of dust and debris on the landing pad, and it had far from settled. Taking a few steps further out, the captain let the other officers come out of the ship. Most were wearing yellow trimmed uniforms, just the helmsman and captain were red. "Sorry sir," the ensign pilot said.

"To be expected," Teller replied. Clay had a bit of a higher pitched voice than you'd expect, but one that projected well. As the dust literally settled, Clay could see the command buildings. A pair of curved towers, circling a round courtyard, the tower to Clay's right was several stories taller than the other, sat a few hundred meters away. Several other building sat around those two towers, but it was those towers there were after. Clay turned to make sure the all dozen or so officers were outside with him, and noted that several of them were carrying toolboxes. "This way, folks," the captain nodded toward the command buildings and started walking that way, the other officers in tow.

It was hot, and quite humid on this Reayan day, in early summer on Hawkeye. Along the way, Clay noted how overgrown all the landscaping was, encroaching significantly on the paths. Dust, debris, and droppings of the animal kind littered the path way as well. A few of the officers began conversing, one of them holding an active tricorder. "The reactors are cold," said the tricorder officer.

"Standard procedure," replied another, a Bolian female. "Empty the antimatter and deuterium when leaving, so primary power is down."

"I get that," the one with the tricorder said, a human male. "But even the geothermal secondary is out. It shouldn't be."

The group continued to walk together. As they approached the base of the command buildings, Clay could start to make out details. The walls were dirty, and some of the trim around outside had some corrosion from the salty ocean air. But the buildings themselves seemed fine. However, Clay noticed something amiss.

"Door's open here," said the Bolian.

The tricorder officer scanned for a moment. "All clear inside." A few officers headed inside, with Clay right behind. The lobby area was pitch black, illuminated only by the palm beacons of those inside. Most of the others followed suit, only the pilot stayed posted outside. The tricorder officer shined his light at the wall, a panel was open, looked forced. "This EPS conduit is gone. Looks like a lot of others, too. Taken out really sloppy. We can guess what happened to the geothermal plant."

"Damn scavengers," The Bolain commented, visibly disgusted at the stripped contents. "And you know it was the Raeyans, too. Should make them cough up everything they stole."

The tricorder human replied, "You're damn right. After everything we did for these people--"

"That's enough," Teller interrupted. "There was a deactivated Starfleet base, and they probably never thought we were coming back. We'll figure this out."

"Yes sir, sorry sir," the human replied, seemingly begrudgingly.

Clay brushed it off, and took steps toward the back wall. Another officer, a Bajoran ensign, shined his light at the doors the Captain was walking toward. "Lift's out, sir," the Bajoran's voice was deep. "We'll have to take the emergency stairs."

Clay motioned with his hands and the Bajoran walked to the set of doors next to the lift. He removed a small tool from his kit and attached it to the doors. Pressing a few buttons, and Teller heard the door locks pop. The Bajoran ensign in yellow pushed the doors apart with his strength. "After you," Clay said. Several others followed them into the stairwell, splitting up at various levels, it was only Clay and the Bajoran that made it all the way to the top. Clay was in decent enough shape, but his heart was pounding from having to climb some 20 stories or so by stair. Taking conscious breaths, he was able to not look completely out of shape in front of the ensign.

After the Bajoran unlocked the door to the upper most level, aside from the roof, Clay followed him into the dark corridor. The hallway gently curved to the right, following the curve of the building. The air up there was stuffy, having not been recirculated in over a decade. As they reached the apex of the curve, Clay could see some light. An open archway led to a waiting room. There were some sofas, chairs, coffee tables near the back window. The windows were filthy, covered with 14 years of dirt and grime. Clay couldn't even see clearly out the windows, but they let in some of the mid-morning Raeyan sun. To the right inside the waiting room was another set of doors, that Clay knew led to a conference room. To the left, sat a reception desk with another set of doors. The desk was empty, with a chair tucked neatly behind it. Clay pointed toward those doors. The Bajoran placed his panel on the doors, unlocked them, and pushed them apart in the middle. Giving a quick glance around, he motioned an all clear to the captain.

Clay followed the ensign in, and a sense of familiarity washed over him. To the left was a small lounge area, a sofa, coffee table and such. To the right was a large bean-shaped desk in front of a window just as dirty as the waiting room, but letting in a similar amount of light. A dark red leather chair sat behind that desk, fashioned like a captain's chair on a bridge, but on wheels of an office chair. Clay took a couple of steps toward the desk and looked at the floor next to the desk, along the same wall of the door into the office. There it was, a black steel stand, with three legs. A main upright angled back a noticeable amount had 2 forks mounted to it. The bottom fork, with two padded prongs, was wide and long near the base of the stand. The top one was similar to the bottom, just much narrower and shorter. It had remained undisturbed in the same spot for over 14 years. Clay put his left thumb through his strap on his chest, while his right hand grabbed the neck of his Martin. Spinning everything around, to the other side of his body, Clay then gently lifted everything over his head, careful not to catch anything on his hair or uniform.

Captain Teller tenderly placed his acoustic guitar into it's stand. Allowing himself a grunt of satisfaction, Clay turned toward the ensign, who was inspecting something on the other side of the office. "Welp," Clay said enthusiastically, "I'm all moved in, how about you?"

 

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