Corellian System

[The Corellian Navy]

Lilith watches her simian charges with some degree of amusement, not so much a feeling as a slight rise in temperature from the subdivision of her core logic that, in a human brain, would approximate "amusement."
While playing patient observer to the shenanigans on the bridge, Lilith's tendrils of awareness have sunk themselves into every system of the ship. As the femtoseconds tick by in her accelerated world, she is running hundreds of simulations with the finest heuristic tweaks on the engines and FTL systems, while at the same time communicating with the housekeeping and security AIs, The Superintendent and The Constable, respectively, coordinating the hundreds of droids aboard the ship as they go about their individual duties and verifying what Corellian engineers had already done a hundred times before: That the Faustus was space worthy.

She has also tapped into the communications and sensor mainframes, monitoring the background noise of comm traffic and verifying for herself what the specialists at their various stations already have.

Satisfied with the doings of the simians aboard ship, she leaves these concerns aside for lesser instances of herself, background programs, to monitor.

Performing the computational equivalent of a limbering stretch, she opens her eyes...

Thousands of cameras, hundreds of droids, incalculable multispectrum, sound, mass spectrometric sensors and the full complement of the Faustus' external sensor suite become the extensions of her will. The temperature in her core logic jumps another 10 kelvins, and she is breathless: Quite literally, she neglects the breathing animation of her avatar, a touch she added after a junior ensign had remarked on the creepiness of its absence.

She has a vague sensation....which is enough to concern her. AIs do not have vague sensation, and the fact that this one does not correspond to any sensors she has access to is more troubling. Theoretically, she knows that her design - the design of all smart AIs, for that matter - sometimes resulted in instances of involuntary memory recall from the primary donor. She has had them before, but not as strong as this. Not as marvelous as this. It's as if her already heightened senses, and the incalculable parallel processes constituting her being were suddenly logarithmically accelerated. Her core logic experiences a flicker of memory...one of flight....of laughter....

She decides to name this instance "elation."

[Avery Heartshorn]

Avery had entered the bridge, finding her way through certain people long enough to find the main core of people she knew, or at least knew of.

Several minutes later, she looked back just long enough to find Miko coming in, looking as if nothing ever happened. She bit her bottom lip, envious that guys could take the art of looking like you didn't just do it to a higher level than she could. She momentarily looked upward, remembering something that she had forgotten and she closed her eyes with a sigh to avoid giving too obvious of a wince.

As Miko came in, she waved him over. Once he got close enough, she leaned close, mumbling softly.

"I may have forgotten my..."
She paused for a moment and her brows rose meaningfully while mentally she pictured a pair of her underwear.
"...notes in your room, remind me to pick them up later on my way to my quarters."

She stood straight again, crossing her arms in front of her and waiting for the ship launch-which would prove to be nothing short of spectacular.

[Jet Almeara]

It was not often when Jet finds something she says challenged, and thought her back is currently turned from the Captain and her gaze drawn to the actions below she none the less feels the Captain working herself up to do that very thing. Rising her head slightly Jet whose patience has already been sorely tried by the nights events finds herself flickering on the verge of snapping that last small string she has left and expressing the flickering cold flame of anger being so challenged has given light to, with extreme prejudice.

However few people in the room would even notice this change as Jet's seemingly relaxed pose did not outwardly give it away and she was well versed - when she so desired to be - in schooling her features into a facade of good temper. Ah - but you did appoint her to this position knowing full well she had the gall to stand up to both you and Taaru if she choose to do so, Jet reminded herself - and no Captain worth anything just rolls over and gives in...or puts up with comments the likes of Aarons on her bridge.

And so Jet once more this night in the interest of keeping events moving decided to take the high road and let the challenge roll off her shoulders, something that was not in her nature to do and certainly something she never would have done in her younger years.

Thusly when the Captain made her suggestion and was wise enough to choose Taaru to enforce it - someone Jet wouldn't take further offense over - it was Aaron who became the subject of her ire and brief withering look before ushering Rothk in the proper direction and allowing Taaru to usher her likewise.

Her ire was short lived however and Jet soon found herself once more considering Lilith with a thoughtful expression.

[The Corellian Navy]

Aralee watches the civilians leave the C&C booth with some trepidation, afraid that they would see through her ruse and decide to give her more of a headache than she was already beginning to develop.

Luckily, none of them protested the CAC's advances, and they left her alone with her bridge officers. She breathes a sigh of relief, and rubs the bridge of her nose. This is all it takes to focus her attention back to a razor's sharpness.

She moves out from in front of the tac map table and joins her XO in watching deliberations.

"Saul, where are those damn tugs?"

The XO, Commander O'Hara, brings up the appropriate comm window and range finder window on his console.

"We should be hearing from them any minute. Seems they're backed up today with a duranium shipment that got here a little earlier than planned."

Saul takes his eyes of his station and glances up at the gaggle of individuals on the cat walk, now joined by the Marine XO, his counterpart, and some other civvie female in a revealing dress.

"Cap, I hope when I confess to you that I'm a bit worried about our passengers, you won't take it the wrong way."

Aralee follows his gaze and resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Our hands are tied. Adm. Pinkala was very adamant about having them aboard. Trust me, I'm not any happier that we're playing host to a publicity stunt either. At least we can always throw them in the brig."

The captain's bluntness doesn't surprise O'Hara. He was with Galor on her last command on a Selachi-class, and had learned very fast that this was her way of venting.

"If I were you, I'd consider a preemptive strike and throwing the fop in the pink jacket out an airlock."

"I've considered, envisioned and dared to dream it already," she responds, eliciting a chuckle from O'Hara, before activating her comm: "Communications, inform Helping Hands that we request the pleasure of their audience...immediately."

Comm station returns the answer: "Comm to the captain. Helping Hands has just hailed and requests open channel."

Aralee mutters a "finally" under her breath before responding: "Communications, put them through to the XO."

An aside to O'Hara: "All yours. Don't scratch the paint."

It's Saul's turn to avoid rolling his eyes.

[The Corellian Navy]

"Helping Hands I, this is Faustus' XO. Come in."

"Read you 5 by 5, Faustus. Hands I, III, VI and IX are on approach vector now, confirm."

Saul looks to his right at Lilith's avatar, which has crossed its arms and kept watch over the bridge, showing up periodically on holo projectors dotted throughout the various booths to confer with other stations.

Lilith turns her head to Saul and simply nods.

"We have you on DRADIS, Hands. Transmitting anchoring points. Confirm match."

A split second passes.

"Points match, permission to anchor."

"Permission granted," Aralee says before Hands I can respond, and Saul reiterates this for Hands' benefit.

"Captain to Tactical, viewport UI to rear and overlooking anchor points."

An "aye aye" filters in from the tactical station, and the holographic display overlapping the viewport solidifies, blocking the view of the ship's hull in front of it and instead switching to a camera view of the rear of the ship, with inserts overlooking each anchor point.

Visible on the main view are four approaching vessels. These heavy tugs, colloquially referred to as Mules, are part of the commissioned tug fleet assigned to Tyrena Station, named Helping Hands for the work they performed. Approaching in a loose 2x2 wall formation, each fires maneuvering jets to peal away from the centerline vector. The camera views overlooking the anchor points turn to track the progress of the Mule's as they bear down on the Faustus, coming around the relatively thicker stern.

The Mule's gently maneuver their way to the anchor points, two at the bow and two at the stern, from which they will guide the Faustus out of its berth. This is no small task, considering each Mule is 350 meters in size: the largest tug class in the fleet.

As they near the anchor points, each Mule swivels it's hammerhead-shaped bow towards the Faustus. Designed to make direct contact with the ship being towed, the bow sections of Mule's had plenty of surface area coated with advanced ceramics and rubbers to not only insure a good grip, but to prevent damage to the towed ship.

The tugs get into position before reporting their progress again.

"Helping Hands are in position, Faustus. Preparing to make contact."

"Understood, Hands," Saul returns. "Transferring to individual anchor control."

"Understood, Faustus."

Saul nails a few keys to patch hands through to the anchor station control details, situated near the anchor points of the ship, which begin guiding the Hands into anchor locks.

Spurts of chemical propellant from maneuvering thrusters move the tugs forward almost imperceptibly.

"Hands 1 contact in 5...4...
"Adjust to starboard by 5, height -3.2....good"
Hands 3 contact in 6....5....
Dead on, Hands 3. Keep her steady.
Hands 6 contact in......
Too low, Hands 6, adjust height + 8.
Hands 9 contact in 3.....2....."

A dull thud throughout the ship as Hands 9 bumps against the hull of the cruiser: "Hands 9 contact, engaging mag lock."

Hands 1, 3 and 6 produce their own thuds, and report their successful lock to the Faustus' hull.

"Lilith?" the captain queries.

"Confirm successful lock at all anchors, captain."

"Hands to Faustus, engaging cable anchors."

"Understood Hands, continue."

The Captain and XO watch the UI feeds from the anchor points expectantly as each tug begins to extend it's three cable arms, arrayed in a triangle.

Reaching their full extension, the tips of the arms extends past the hammerhead bow.

"Hands have targeting solution Faustus. Firing mag cable in 5....4....3.....2...."

Aralee, who has tried to keep her composure, perceptibly flinches as the magnetic anchor cables fire from the tugs. Her pessimism is disappointed however, as each anchor pad makes contact with the Faustus' hull and locks, in the same triangular pattern as the booms on the tugs. Once contact is made, each tug reals the cables taught, and reports it's success.

"Faustus, Hands I. Have anchored successfully. Waiting for guidance & navigation handshake."

Saul clicks the comm twice for an affirmative and switches his personal comm to the bridge channel: "Helm, open guidance and navigation handshake to Helping Hands."

"Aye, aye, sir," Washburne responds from his seat at the primary helm. "Handshake transmitted."

"Confirm handshake transmission, Faustus......Handshake successful."

A type of slave circuit, guidance and navigation handshakes allow instantaneous coordination of sublight maneuvers between ships. This allows smaller tugs to tap into the maneuvering thrusters of the ships they are towing, and reduces the sheer stresses at the anchor points. However, since the main engines of something the size of the Faustus would destroy the berth and facility around it with ion backwash, larger ship in a closed drydock are still dependent on tugs.

"Helping Hands signals ready, Captain. It's our show now."

Aralee looks to the XO, then out the viewport, assessing the situation.

She closes her eyes and takes in a breath...

[Aaron Starkiller]

Aaron smiled broadly when Jet glared at him. "What," he asked her. "Think of it as me paying her a compliment."

"I'm goin', I'm goin'," he said to Taaru as he waved at him dismissively. "Manners, sheesh." He walked along with the others before coming to a halt on the catwalk. He leaned forward, propping himself up on the rail and watched the proceedings, his jacket fading back to black.

[The Corellian Navy]

....she opens them, suddenly in her element, and fires off orders as fast as she can get her mouth to move.

"Communications. Request permission for departure from Yard Command. Navigation, close and seal primary docking port. Confirm elevator retraction with yard control."

"Aye, ma'am! Primary docking port closed and elevator retracting."
"Yard Control, confirms elevator retraction and has cleared exit vector for departure."

"Navigation, running lights up. Helm?"

"Helm ready, captain."

"Cede maneuvering thrusters to hands, hold station."

"Aye aye."

A new inset appears on the DRADIS viewport UI, displaying telemetry data for the Faustus' departure, as well as a view afore, showing the retraction of the elevator column linking the Faustus to the station's core. Onlookers are also treated to the site of the Faustus' running lights engaging: floodlights light up her hull designation and name, while navigation lights (red on port and green on starboard and strobes engage across the length of the ship.

"Engineering, seal and release fuel lines."

The retracting elevator is met with the release of the fuel lines that snake down into two separate ports on the Faustus. These are similarly retracted.

"Yard control confirms release, Captain. We are free in the water."

The Captain adjusts her comm: "Helping Hands, come in."

"Helping Hands I here, Faustus."

"Clear for departure. She's all yours."

[The Corellian Navy]

((Musical accompaniment: "Enterprise Clears Moorings" by James Horner, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.))

A staccato of maneuvering thruster plumes spray frozen propellant towards the Faustus' bow, before each tug engages it's main ventral thrusters. Millimeter by millimeter, the Faustus begins moving backwards out of her berth.

Helping Hands keys into the guidance control for the Faustus and engages the larger cruiser's forward facing maneuvering thrusters, and the rate of backwards movement becomes centimeters....then meters.

The shimmering spearhead of the Faustus slides effortlessly out of her birth, propelled mostly under her own power, the Hands acting only as inobtrusive guides.

As the tip of the Faustus clears the sides of the birth, the two tugs at fore and starboard and at aft and port fire their main rear thrusters, and the Faustus slowly begins to turn left, the black obsidian of her name coming to bear on the windows lining the inside of the station's domed hull. Every being that catches a view of her stops in its tracks: For many of them, this moment is a culmination of years of dedicated work....the first commissioned Prowler leaving for its first mission.

As the Faustus' lines up on her long angle, a combination of the tugs and her own thrusters fire to arrest her previous linear and radial momentum, and begin moving her around the station's dome towards the exit. Her image reflects against polished surfaces as she slides by, graceful and powerful like the mythical sea creatures of Corellian legend.

The exit bulkhead comes into view on the bridge's viewport UI, and imperceptible linear accelerations courtesy of the tugs begin to rotate the Faustus' nose towards it, even as she continues on her previous vector following the station's dome. Her long axis lines up with the exit portal, and braking thrusters arrest her now sideways motion.

All she must do now, is take her first steps...

[...]

"Faustus, Helping Hands. We've brought you this far. Disengaging anchor points and guidance handshake on your command."

Aralee, who has felt the electric excitement of this moment building inside of her the second the ship set into motion, has broken into a pleased grin.

"Permission granted, Hands. On behalf of the crew, thanks for the ride."

The holo-inserts with vantage points over the anchor sites now depict the tugs releasing their mag locks and reeling their cables back into their booms, before folding up and disengaging from the hull. Slowly, they go their separate ways.

"Captain to Helm. Reaffirm maneuvering thrusters. Hold station."

"Aye, Captain. Handshake disengaged and maneuvering thrusters as station-keeping."

Aralee pauses long enough to take a breath and to pass a sweeping gaze across her bridge once more. This is what she has been waiting for, and she is not disappointed.

"Thrusters ahead, Mr. Washburne."

The crew can feel the slight forward push of the Faustus' rear maneuvering thrusters, the tactile feeling of the hull moving under their feet confirmed by the harbor entrance growing closer and closer in the viewport.

Her spearhead bow pierces through the portal, her dagger like hull emerging from Tyrena Station into the starlit night of orbit, a view of Corellia opening to the bridge viewport as she rounds the wall of the station.

"Navigation to Captain. Faustus has cleared Tyrena station. Orbital exit vector calculated and confirmed by AI."

"And all I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by."

"What's that, Captain?" Saul inquires, having mistaken the muttered phrase for an address.

"Nothing, Saul. Just something that strikes me as good advice."

[Jet Almeara]

Jet's attention is captured by the complicated series of maneuvers required by the ships crew and the mules without to bring Faustus out of her berth. It is a impressive action on any vessel of size and Jet remains silent, aware of the various crew as they held their collective breath..aware of the excitement of Aralee above and casting her own memories back briefly in time to the last vessel she so accompanied...Glacier.

Things were far different on Faustus as she was quickly learning - weather that would prove to be a good thing or a bad thing however had yet to be determined,taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as Faustus at long last sat willing and waiting to send them on their way, away from Corellia,the mansion and everything else Jet had come to know as her life for the last several years..and towards well..who knew really? It was the first in a long time that Jet could feel a stirring of anticipation - much the same as she had experienced before on countless missions, possible danger and the unknown waited to embrace them all in permanent shadow and by the force it was about damn time as far as Jet was concerned, she had waited for far to long in the mansion.

"And so it begins" were the only words she spoke and even those were quiet - more to herself then her companions though she was sure they had heard.

[The Corellian Navy]

((Musical accompaniment: "Main Title - The Mountain" by Jerry Goldsmith, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier soundtrack))

The Faustus continues forward on maneuvering impulse, making course corrections to follow the designated slingshot path around Corellia that would send it past Centerpoint station and finally out-system.

Aboard the bridge, Captain Galor sets case containing the commissioning pennant given to her by Adm. Pinkala on the tac map table, and asks the OOD to fetch two sailors to hoist it on the pole to the left of the bridge's exit, the right pole already displaying the colors of Corellia.

The OOD goes about his business commandeering two sensor techs for the distinguished honor of breaking the commissioning pennant and hoisting it.

As this occurs, Aralee returns to her immediate duties.

"Have we cleared the safety zone, Saul?"

"8 seconds ago, Cap."

"Very well......Captain to Engineering, report."

"Engineering. Reactor output at 95% and holding. Main sublight engines at ready."

"Engineering, prepare for slingshot and orbital exit burn. Three quarters maximum acceleration until calculated escape velocity is reached. Confirm with AI. Captain to Navigation, hoist ensign."

A flurry of affirmatives, and a deep rumble throughout the ship as reactor power is shunted to the ship's main sublight engines.

Ships passing by the Faustus, either on their way to Tyrena or simply on a similar orbit, are treated to the site of the ensign boom being extended above the top deck, i.e. the command tower. A spark of holo generators warming up, and the holographic representation of the ship's full ensign materializing into space: 340 meters long, the ensign is grid quartered, depicting the Faustus' emblem and elements of the ensigns for the Navy, Corellia and the Five Brothers. A simple program mimics the effect of the ensign flying in the wind, proportional with the ship's velocity.

At almost the same time, a blueish light in the engine nacelles becomes the hot white of a full burn, and the Faustus rapidly accelerates along her radial vector around Corellia, gaining speed as she harnesses the gravitational well in the same way ships of yore harnessed the wind. Minutes and a 270 degree revolution around Corellia later, Aralee commands a break of orbit, and the Faustus flies her home planet, shooting into the depths of space. More time passes, and the twin planets of Talus and Tralus grow in the viewport, with Centerpoint Station, Corellia's military headquarters, a close second.

As the Faustus nears Centerpoint, numerous hails from the captains of other vessels currently docked with the station or her smaller subsidiaries arrive at the comm pit: Well-wishes, notes of admiration and congratulations filter in, in a sort of homage to the cannon salutes of the Age of Sea.

To Aralee, one of the few crewmembers to have received early warning about their mission, finds it fitting that they should begin their journey at Centerpoint.

But even Centerpoint slides past the Faustus, and is lost in her wake. It is a matter of rehearsal and flurries of orders to prepare the hyperdrive for departure, and the moment any major gravitational wells are cleared, the Faustus seems to accelerates to a pinpoint, and is gone.

Thus begins the story of the Wayfarers. It is a brave enterprise for Corellia, for after years of isolation, the pride of her admired disciplines strikes out anew into a deep sea, black with boon and bane.

Thus begins a journey into destiny.



<<Star Wars: The Wayfarers - Episode 2 - Second star to the right, and on till morning - - - - Fin>>

[The Corellian Navy]

<<Credits role, accompanied by "'End Credits' - John Debney, Seaquest DSV soundtrack">>

<<Inset fades in, depicting Quartermaster Jeffrey Washburne, Helmsman, seated in the primary helm chair>>

"Hi, I'm Alan Tudyk, playing the part of Quartermaster Jeffrey Washburne on Star Wars: The Wayfarers. The launching and commissioning of military vessels as depicted in this episode is a long-standing tradition in many Earth navies, dating as far back as ancient Babylon, in the 3rd millenium BC. Growing out of a celebration of the completion of a ship by its builders, such ceremonies soon grew into their own affairs, with special rites observed. While some liberties were taken, the launching and commissioning ceremony of the Faustus closely approximates the same ceremonies in the United States and Royal Navy today.

See you on the next exciting episode of 'Star Wars: The Wayfarers'."

<<Credits come to a close, display of copyright information and production company logo, screen fades to black>>