TAC Chief Warrant Officer Andrew Harlan

Forum for the U.S.S. Bremen, running every Thursday at 1900 UTC. Talk about your missions and your crewmates here, or feel free to post your logs for everyone to read.
Lieutenant JG
User avatar

Posts: 87
Joined: Thu Nov 13, 2014 10:11 pm
Location: Schelle, Belgium
Character Name: Marcus "Racer" Trevanion

TAC Chief Warrant Officer Andrew Harlan

Postby Gunther Vermeulen » Wed Nov 19, 2014 11:56 pm

TAC CW3 Harlan - 11411.13


Hold up to a single light source, tilt and inspect.

Hardly a surprise, Tactical would have always been the best kept station on a Klingon bridge.
Once engineering had stabilized operational power and had halted the wild flickering of Blinky Lights [tm], there hadn't been much "proud battle machinery" to repair at all.

Look for abrasions on the KG finish, confirm shape of the Tanto style tip.

A thorough dusting (and a second one, ventilation systems on-line this time), fastening of a few nuts and bolts and half a dozen power cycles were all the console needed to be brought to its current state of easy readiness.

Run a finger along the dull edge, round the handle and go back. Adress hooks and dents as needed.

The old B'rel class ship's two disruptor cannons responded well to power up, hot standby and power down commands. Both pulse and beam modes responded swiftly to the correct panel touches, too. The aft torpedo launcher also cycled perfectly, while the forward tube (short as it may be) needed a guy to crawl inside and dent it out with a hammer. In all, short labour for a very satisfactory result.

Apply a small amount of replicated silicosynth wax to a soft cloth and gently rub out across the surface facing you.

Andrew sat on the floor in the far left corner of the scarcely lit bunk room, next to his hard metal bed, across the bulk panel next to the entrance door to this cramped space. Leaning his back against the wall with a pillow propped up inbetween, his knees bent up, Chief Harlan had created his personal office there. Utterly at ease and completely oblivious to the still pungent air on board, he concentrated on the task at hand.

Polish and turn over, repeat hand-buffing on the other hard metal face.

A B'rel class bird may not have been on his list of suspected hooks to be thrown at him by SFC, and ultimately this was officially only recreational shore leave. Sports of some sort, a fishing trip perhaps? Yet, Harlan felt perfectly comfortable here. Less strict on petty protocols, focus only on what's important, simple and direct chain of command, less variables to account for. Andrew couldn't help but surpress a slight smile there.

Wipe thoroughly with a clean area of your cloth, removing any excess wax. Aim for a smooth and even finish.

"Good old 'merican metal from the state next door!", he remembered someone saying about this tool he was presently handling. Together with his spare mil/civ clothes, emergency dry rations pack, sewing kit, bottle of Cardhu and two tumbler glasses, it was one piece of kit he would always have with him, either in his backpack or fixed to his right hand side boot.

Inspect leading edge and test it's fresh sharpening by running it through a thin sheet of paper, smoothly and without sawing.

The station's man of arms had done an admirable job, Chief Warrant Officer Harlan thought while he slipped the Professional Soldier blade back into it's tension fit sheath, took out and fluffed up the pillow sat behind his back, replaced it on the bed and tucked this prepared combat knife underneath.

Klingons don't use pillows. They think they make a warrior weak in the neck.

It was fortunate that the station's logistics bay had some to spare.
Sadly, all soft beddings and sheets were out...
Lieutenant, Junior Grade Marcus "Racer" Trevanion
Tactical Officer
USS Bremen
-
CW3 Andrew Harlan / SFI & Section 31 Admiral Cix Jordaïn, AWOL

Commander
User avatar

Posts: 953
Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 3:47 am

Re: TAC Chief Warrant Officer Andrew Harlan

Postby Einar S » Thu Nov 20, 2014 12:18 am

That was such a fun read! I can't wait to get to know the man, sounds interesting :)
Captain Jonathan Rome
Commanding Officer
USS Hyperion

Commander

Posts: 958
Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 3:47 am

Re: TAC Chief Warrant Officer Andrew Harlan

Postby Aoibhe Ni » Thu Nov 20, 2014 1:37 am

What a fantastic intro log, Gunther. Wow!

Lieutenant JG
User avatar

Posts: 87
Joined: Thu Nov 13, 2014 10:11 pm
Location: Schelle, Belgium
Character Name: Marcus "Racer" Trevanion

TAC CW3 Harlan & CEO LtCmdr Adalberto 11411.20

Postby Gunther Vermeulen » Thu Nov 27, 2014 12:11 am

.
Don't trip over scattered scrap metal, take care not to snag a boot in a loose cable and for #$*&^/'s sake, try not to step on one of those squeeking little rats that had probably managed to avoid the broomstick!
Good thing we managed to keep 'em out of the bunks. Well, out of most of them anyway. Even they seemed to shy away from the smell in that corridor.

Chief Harlan's mind presently had little space left to fill with things other than "watching out", so he took a brief moment to clear his thoughts before stepping through yet another creeking door, past some unpronouncable Klingon sign into main engineering.

Strangely empty and calm in there, Andrew almost wondered if he had misread the time. Then, the familiar sound of metal falling on metal, accompanied by a muffled curse, alerted him to the chief engineer's wherabouts. A few steps on, he found him on the floor behind a panel, straightening a bent piece of heavy kit of some sorts.

"Hey commander. Need a hand?"

Tony's face appeared from behind the panel, a piece of some Klingon Engineering tool between his teeth and a large spanner in his right hand.
"Tweef!". Tony spat the tool out and stood up, dusting his coat off. "Glad you could make it...we're making some great progress here"

With a short glance around, Harlan could tell. This place looked just that little bit less post warzone like than the rest of the ship.
"That's pretty neat, considering you nearly had to rebuild her from scratch..." Andrew said. He briefly held up a badly scratched Klingon PADD he found in a closet next to the now very much former cloak generator. "Speaking of scratch, that's what we might have to do with that cloaking device. Bridge link circuitry is here and functioning, but as far as I can tell from this thing," nodding at the PADD "both field generator coils and their control chips were removed a while ago. A decent while, actually. In the late seventies..."

Tony placed the tools back in his kit "May I?" he reached for the PADD and studied the blueprints. "You're right, but there's also some good news. This is a relic, and it uses duotronic circuits and hardwires.".
He could see the Chief was waiting on further reassurances. "If the shoe fits?....fine, let's put it this way. There's only so much tech that can interact with these systems, we can start with the hardware......but our real problem is the control chips"

Harlan nodded in agreement. Even the wartime recomissioned Excelsiors he had seen had more advanced wiring than what's on this bird.
"That and the power drain. Do you think the core can spare enough juice to hide anything bigger than the Captain's chair?"

Tony blew out his cheeks. "Can't say yet, perhaps if we shut off every other system....this is as new to me as it is to you, Chief...but I sure am ready to try...."

A good two hours passed, in which both men raided the cargo hold's rubble piles for parts to use. Confident of Adalberto's skills in putting together what they had found and not wanting to just stand there watching because there weren't two sets of the necessary tools on board, Andrew had gone off in search of a redundant bit of machinery of some sorts, to plunder it's control circuitry. Unfortunately, anything still in place was either routing a vital system, or had burned itself to charcoal. Some of them were both...
Having found not a single chip to spare, he tracked back to the forward navigational sensor bay, where the cloaking device stood plasma welded to the floor.
Displeased by this failed attempt to contribute, Harlan stepped in and andressed the Chief Engineer, who still seemed busy as ever.

"No luck with the hunt, I'm afraid. How's it going up here?"

Tony stood up from behind the cylinder shaped object, his brow glistening with sweat. "Well....for one thing, I think I have the heating fixed. Don't ask me how.....oh and I managed to get the subprocessor online".
He spun a portable panel around, showing the device running a system's check.
"It's not registering any commands or activating any functions...but I think with a little bit of hard work, spit and whiskey, we can crack this beauty"

The enlisted man leaned forward to get a closer look at the panel, which was steadily showing one positive readout after another. Glancing to the side, he could see that the newly installed generator coils fit their alcoves perfectly and wondered if the CEO had rewound them by hand. Slowly beginning to believe in this project, Andrew couldn't help but show a faint smile.

"I'll take care of the Scotch."
Lieutenant, Junior Grade Marcus "Racer" Trevanion
Tactical Officer
USS Bremen
-
CW3 Andrew Harlan / SFI & Section 31 Admiral Cix Jordaïn, AWOL

Lieutenant JG
User avatar

Posts: 87
Joined: Thu Nov 13, 2014 10:11 pm
Location: Schelle, Belgium
Character Name: Marcus "Racer" Trevanion

TAC CW3 Andrew Harlan 11412.04

Postby Gunther Vermeulen » Fri Dec 05, 2014 2:02 am

.

"jIyajbe'!" - I don't understand - shouted the operations officer to her Captain.
"The blast has taken down all battle systems, we cannot move, aim, fire, or protect our vanbogh tochlIj - comrades - or ourselves!"

"bIjatlh 'e' yImev!" the drifting ship's commander replied as the sound of creaking metal and the sense of downward movement indicated it's slow but inevitable descent towards the upper atmosphere of Chin'toka two. "Get me someone who still has some brains left in their ridged skulls!" he belted, whereupon the three men in Starfleet uniform who were trying to get life out of their sparking stations collectively frowned.

Three more torpedoes impacted the engineering hull, tearing off the port Warp nacelle and hastening the fall of IKS Ha'DIbaH veS , bringing her in contact with the M class planet's upper layers. Heat began building up on the ventral portion of the hull, the thin gasses pulling the starboard wing back.

Thrown from his seat, head having been cloven cleanly in half by a falling structural beam, the Klingon cruiser's navigator had been replaced by the Federation detachée for Ordnance repair on this mission, Chief Andrew Harlan. Struggling with the foreign language, both on the panels and in the explatives being screamed at him, the man was trying to get any response from impulse drive or thrusters. The Breen energy weapon had disabled the whole fleet here present.

Three hundred and twelve. All would perish, minus one. That one wasn't to be the Ha'DIbaH veS.

"Ngup!" - power!

When the viewscreen flickered back on, the crew fell silent. Against the backdrop of the cloudy and golden gray hues of the planet, dozens, no hundreds of burning star ships could be seen drifting. Some of their hulls still flickered blue, others were engulfed in the bright yellow from internal fires and hull breaches. But, most of the contacts on screen were too small to be flown. Torn away nacelles, sliced up saucer sections, loose sheets of outer and inner hull, some bodies, some... people still screaming out their final breaths as they got sucked out into cold space.
In the background, a hull erupted with the violent power of it's failed Warp core. Destruction on this scale had never been heard of in our known universe. The scene was utter, complete, horror. Here, today, the Dominion had shown it's true nature.

"laH maSuv!"

The male officer that had rudely taken the operations station reported on the dissipation of the disabling energy field and on which parts of the defence grid remained.

"Defence grid?! Get me flight, you moron!" Andrew snapped at the guy who seemed ready to pull out his Maveq at Andrew's lack of respect.

Hesitantly, his commander eventually held back the anger ridden officer and told him to either comply or "naDevvo' 'ej Hegh!".
Clearly shaken, the failing vessel's OPS nodded. "Luq!" - Yes.

"Thank you! You should learn to say that, too..." Harlan shook his head and grumbled as he tried to slow their atmospheric entry. The drag on the one remaining nacelle was building, threatening to tear what remained of this K'tinga class cruiser to pieces.
"Chief!", ensign Timothy Barnes yelled at Harlan. "I'm gonna cut off that thing before the ventral disruptor goes down! Might just save us some time!". He hit the panel on the console he was trying to hold on to. The blast took away the one hundred meter long piece of dragging engine, which skidded away from the rest of the reddening hull, burning up without the shielding it had a moment earlier.

"Shields are at seven precent, but hol... argh!" Boatswain Kelly collapsed in a cloud of electric arcs that shot out of his side panel.

The Klingon Captain shielded his face with his left arm. "baQa'!", he exclaimed and turned to see who remained. The whole secondary hull had been decompressed, the segments that still had oxygen were on fire. All who were left sat in the top three floors of the forward section, about thirty Klingons and three, no, two humans in all.

Piercing the upper cloud layer without signs of slowing, the commander stood tall and spoke "tlhIngan maH! Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam" - We are Klingons, and today is a good day to die! - and closed his eyes.

Having already fried the reverse impulse engines, Andrew Harlan was using the ship's remaining docking thrusters to redirect downward momentum into forward movement, hoping to skid off of the surface of the body of water he saw them heading towards.
"Hang on!" were his last words before he lost conciousness as the battered bulge that was left of the primary hull broke off and splashed down hard into Chin'toka two's southwestern ocean.

Secured in his seat and certainly aware of a sinking motion, the Chief's eyelids fell shut too early to see his fellow remaining Starfleet officer disappear in the blueish swirl of a site to pad transport.


Whistling, harsh and constand whistling, ever growing louder.


Still strapped in at the conn of the Vergh'mej, Andrew slowly awoke to the smell of burned flint, a streak of light pouring in through a crack in the hull. The flickering of an emergency forcefield was apparently keeping the normal atmosphere contained. To what was left of the bridge, at least.

Chief Warrant officer Harlan pushed away the overhead panel that had knocked him out and tossed it away to his left hand side where it connected to the floor with a heavy metallic bang. After unclicking his safety belt, he tore a strip of fabric from his already torn shirt and bandaged his upper left arm. Once the gash had stopped bleeding, the enlisted man stood up and turned around. Towards the back of the bridge, he could see someone supporting a woman, both limping into the corridor leading to the rooms labelled "ropyaH" - infirmary.

All other seats were empty, no puddles serving as proof of fatal blood loss, no body parts or other kinds of horror associated with desintegration were visible.

Harlan recognized the receeding figures as Griffiths and sh'Hruvek, the people he was talking to just a moment ago. Or an hour. Or a day... he couldn't really tell. He began to hear his blood rushing through his skull as the sounds of ship and planet made their muffled presence know to him.

With the adrenalin kick wearing off, pain also harshly cut into his senses. All Andrew could manage to focus on as he started to clamber over the rubble on this bird's battered bridge floor was one simple thought:

The IKS Ha'DIbaH veS's Klingon commander's calm ald low voice, "DaHjaj yIn maH" - Today, were are life.
Lieutenant, Junior Grade Marcus "Racer" Trevanion
Tactical Officer
USS Bremen
-
CW3 Andrew Harlan / SFI & Section 31 Admiral Cix Jordaïn, AWOL

Commander

Posts: 958
Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 3:47 am

Re: TAC Chief Warrant Officer Andrew Harlan

Postby Aoibhe Ni » Fri Dec 05, 2014 12:44 pm

...wow.
I need to crash you guys into stuff more often!

Amazing flashback, Gunther! Thank you for the fantastic read. :)

Commander
User avatar

Posts: 953
Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 3:47 am

Re: TAC Chief Warrant Officer Andrew Harlan

Postby Einar S » Fri Dec 05, 2014 3:32 pm

:master:
Captain Jonathan Rome
Commanding Officer
USS Hyperion

Site Admin
User avatar
That would be unwise

Posts: 974
Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 3:47 am
Location: Vancouver, BC
Character Name: Rhodri "Griff" Griffiths

Re: TAC Chief Warrant Officer Andrew Harlan

Postby James Greenman » Fri Dec 05, 2014 9:49 pm

That was an absolutely blinding log, Gunther. Wow!
Star Trek: Engage Game Manager

Game Director -Sigma Rho Station & U.S.S. Sentinel

Lieutenant JG
User avatar

Posts: 87
Joined: Thu Nov 13, 2014 10:11 pm
Location: Schelle, Belgium
Character Name: Marcus "Racer" Trevanion

TAC CW3 Andrew Harlan 11412.11

Postby Gunther Vermeulen » Thu Jan 08, 2015 9:18 am

.

Andrew shook some dirt out of the cloth and folded it over again.

He had quickly searched the remaining accessible parts of the wreck that was once a proud Bird of Prey for breathing masks, air bottles, rebreathers and warm clothing. To him it was clear that the ship lay in shatters, it's wings spread wide like an eagle that chose the wrong field to pinch a few rabbits from. Gunned down for it's natural instinct to feed itself, leaving it's hatchlings to die of starvation.
The Bremen crew ofcourse took off with slightly less crucial goals: There, search that planet! Here, take this thing we pulled out of a heap of mothballs to do it with.
Well, it was cheap and seaworthy... Harlan had sat on several ships that weren't either. But then again those weren't being fired upon by mystery weapons on the surface of empty planets in peaceful star systems. Not this close to home, at least.

He blew on the glass, a cloud of dust flying off of it.

Help fix the ship: check.
Fire and miss: check.
Fly the ship: check.
Crash the ship... sigh deeply and check.
Help fix the ship again: check.
Help the Doctor in sealing Adalberto's wound: check.
Risking a punch to the face for pinning him down on the biob.. table... and telling him it would only take a second: check.
Mourning over lost bottle: check...

The Chief rubbed away the last of the grime on the goggles he was cleaning and neatly lay them next to the rest of his loot. It wasn't much, but it would have to be enough.
Lieutenant, Junior Grade Marcus "Racer" Trevanion
Tactical Officer
USS Bremen
-
CW3 Andrew Harlan / SFI & Section 31 Admiral Cix Jordaïn, AWOL

Lieutenant JG
User avatar

Posts: 87
Joined: Thu Nov 13, 2014 10:11 pm
Location: Schelle, Belgium
Character Name: Marcus "Racer" Trevanion

TAC CW3 Andrew Harlan 11501.08

Postby Gunther Vermeulen » Mon Jan 12, 2015 11:33 pm

.

They say transport is instantanious.
You won't notice, nor feel a thing.
Movement is frozen, down to quantum level.
Thinking is out of the question, too.
In essence, you can't even...

Ofcourse, you and I both know all of this to be utter crap.

If you're at least a tiny bit sensitive to anything time or gravity shift related, that is...

Andrew Harlan took a slow and deep breath through his dissolving molecules, a reflex without purpose in his energy suspended state. To him, transport occupies up to a minute in his relative time frame. Plus one if it's brand new, plus two if it's non-starfleet. Site to site seemed a fraction quicker, minus half a minute or so.

Every single time.

Thank you, Utopia Planitia ARD, for planting a temporal research lab next to the enlisted officers' bunk rooms.
"Yeah, that's something for life, I believe. Good thing we got you off the migraine meds, though!" Pat on the back, off you go, back to the grind. Another one marked "safe enough".

Crap.

Chief Harlan had tried to fight the opressed boredom and got creative up to a point...

Reading a padd? Can't touch the screen and the pixels bounce around.
Mentally prepare for what's coming? If you weren't already prepared, you should have stayed of the TR pad.
Juggle? Balls won't come back down.
Dance a jig? Looks weird when rematerialising.
Talk to other people? They actually do appear very much frozen and sound might nog even work here.

Andrew sighed, sending a few ripples through the blueish swirls around his head. Or so he imagined. He'd like them to be really there, that would be neat and maybe a little less bland than usual.

With the unavoidable, headache inducing speed-up towards the median time frame, reality would rush back in, too.
This time reality came as a flood, a huge wave of thoughts and memories crashing into his supposedly inanimate body.

This one took a while: one plus two plus one more, minus a quarter or so, sending the Chief Warrant Officer's alertness up in a high speed elevator, halting only a service floor down from the adrenaline kick.

This was no joke and Griff knew it, too. That man had taken solo action and apparently lived to tell, which was enough for an enlisted man to follow through, for now.

When the swirls began to dissipate, Harlan noticed he had lowered his body into a half crouch, eyes purposefully wide in anticipation of a likely hostile room to form before them.
Two fingers of his right hand touched the hilt of his bootstrapped knife.

Money time...
Lieutenant, Junior Grade Marcus "Racer" Trevanion
Tactical Officer
USS Bremen
-
CW3 Andrew Harlan / SFI & Section 31 Admiral Cix Jordaïn, AWOL

Next

Return to U.S.S. Bremen

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest