He met her over Refuge.
Still fresh from the first assembly, for better or worse, and still clad in his dress uniform.
Si tech really had done a damn fine job.
Built off the surviving specifications of the Invisible Hand that had survived the centuries since, and then upscaled by a factor of 1.5. The figure of the Far Worlds Naval Ship Warspite loomed over the ring world like a mighty specter. Armed and armored to a level that made even SSDs pale in some respects, fast enough to run down nearly every blockade runners in the galaxy in as few as 3 parsecs, and stuffed to the gills with the most advanced technology Si Tech had to offer. She was expensive, incredibly so, but with how the naval budget of the new Far Worlds Alliance was going it actually barely scratched it. It was a shame most of the remaining budget was going to refit and retrain the various sector and system fleets and not towards a more professional standing fleet. That was fine, how ever, as what was left to him was going towards the ordering of ships and training of crew for what was to become the 1st Composite Squadron, officially BASRON-1, that was to be her escorts.
At the moment it was a pair of CD710s, an Acclimator II, and a few smaller escorts including CR-90s, a pair of Nebulon IIs, and lighter armed corvettes.
As he entered the bridge the crew snapped to attention at the sound of a whistle pipped in. He gave a nod and took his seat at the captains chair. The View screens at the front and sides of the room gave them 200 degree view of the space around them. This wasn't the exposed bridge along the hull. One of the many alterations of the design was the moving of the main bridge and CIC block to a fortified section buried deep, deep with in the armored hull. The Bridge along the dorsal hull was simply a navigation and secondary helm control space. The one at the top of the spire, the so called wizard's tower, was also a secondary observation and control bridge for the air group.
His XO, that being first officer, was one Tarsha Rayne. An ex Imperial, by the account of his aid. A competent women nearing 45, with some 20 years under her belt in commanding ISDs and other capital ships before being thrown to the wind with the rest of her command. He didn't like to admit it, but he needed some one like her. While he was academy trained, and Tarsha her self came out of Cardia, he was the first to admit his actual command skills had grown rusty. Being as humble as one could be, he elected to fill the ranks of his officers with veterans. Most had come from the shattered Galactic Alliance, a few from imperial remnants. He had gotten a few from the various Sith naval forces and turned them down flatly.
The rest of the over 4500 crew of the Warspite had come from young hopefuls, those with the want to help build this alliance in to something bigger then themselves, but the humility and point of view to understand that service aboard this ship wasn't just another job aboard a system defense boat, or a mercenary contract. He had said so in his first address to the crew that morning.
"This is to be a fighting ship crewed by fighting men and women. I mean to take her in to war should the need arise, and I ask, and expect, each and every one of you to do your duty as creed and duty commands you to."
He had spent most of the day after that touring his new command, and he didn't find anything wanting.
As he settled fully, his XO arrived with a steaming cup of chocolate recaff in her hand. "Sir." She offered and he took it. She was wearing a similar uniform to him, but it did little to hide the Imperial in her. He sipped it, over looking the bridge crew doing their business. "Calm your self just a bit XO, this is a milk run." She dipped her head, the peaked cap lowering just enough to hide her smile. "Apologies sir." He chuckled. "And XO, its "skipper" not just Sir. I expect to be called captain in a formal setting, this is not one." She raised a brow. "Formal settings are for Politicians and the like. I am not one. Do not let the light saber on my hip fool you. When I wear this uniform I am an officer first. And good officers know when to turn it off."
She nodded again, reaching for a data pad. "I have the report for you, skipper." He nodded, motioning for her to continue. "The Si tech crews have all largely disembarked, save those staying on hand to monitor those certain systems we spoke about before hand. We have a full roster of 4563, with a full 2 years supply load and at least 1.5 replacements for each fighter, as well as enough materials to effect near total rebuilds of the Melinoe and Spellbound should the need arise." He thought for a moment. They were the two escort frigates docked in the twin tailer made conformal docking sections just fore of the main hanger decks.
"Go on." She nodded. "Officers and division chiefs across all decks report ready for sortie, and the ships Master at Arms reports full security compliment is armed and posted. He also reports a full armed watch aboard as per Naval regulation. Gunnery reports green across the board, as does astrogation, engineering, medical, and flight ops with a special note that our CAG boss seems rather excited to be back in service."
She lowered the pad, looking out across the bridge and CIC. "All in all sir, we look green to sortie." He nodded, leaning forward in his chair and tapping the 1MC controls on his chair. "All hands, All hands this is your captain speaking. I have green reports from all decks, all divisions. Now here this, Set Condition 2 and ready for sortie."
With that, the bridge rose in a flurry of motion as crew and officers perked up and begin issuing orders. With a little bit of excitement and perhaps a feeling of pride, his crew went in to emotion an the 4 large drives at the rear of the vessel flickered, then roared to life as the Warspite left dock and made for open space over Refuge.
Still fresh from the first assembly, for better or worse, and still clad in his dress uniform.
Si tech really had done a damn fine job.
Built off the surviving specifications of the Invisible Hand that had survived the centuries since, and then upscaled by a factor of 1.5. The figure of the Far Worlds Naval Ship Warspite loomed over the ring world like a mighty specter. Armed and armored to a level that made even SSDs pale in some respects, fast enough to run down nearly every blockade runners in the galaxy in as few as 3 parsecs, and stuffed to the gills with the most advanced technology Si Tech had to offer. She was expensive, incredibly so, but with how the naval budget of the new Far Worlds Alliance was going it actually barely scratched it. It was a shame most of the remaining budget was going to refit and retrain the various sector and system fleets and not towards a more professional standing fleet. That was fine, how ever, as what was left to him was going towards the ordering of ships and training of crew for what was to become the 1st Composite Squadron, officially BASRON-1, that was to be her escorts.
At the moment it was a pair of CD710s, an Acclimator II, and a few smaller escorts including CR-90s, a pair of Nebulon IIs, and lighter armed corvettes.
As he entered the bridge the crew snapped to attention at the sound of a whistle pipped in. He gave a nod and took his seat at the captains chair. The View screens at the front and sides of the room gave them 200 degree view of the space around them. This wasn't the exposed bridge along the hull. One of the many alterations of the design was the moving of the main bridge and CIC block to a fortified section buried deep, deep with in the armored hull. The Bridge along the dorsal hull was simply a navigation and secondary helm control space. The one at the top of the spire, the so called wizard's tower, was also a secondary observation and control bridge for the air group.
His XO, that being first officer, was one Tarsha Rayne. An ex Imperial, by the account of his aid. A competent women nearing 45, with some 20 years under her belt in commanding ISDs and other capital ships before being thrown to the wind with the rest of her command. He didn't like to admit it, but he needed some one like her. While he was academy trained, and Tarsha her self came out of Cardia, he was the first to admit his actual command skills had grown rusty. Being as humble as one could be, he elected to fill the ranks of his officers with veterans. Most had come from the shattered Galactic Alliance, a few from imperial remnants. He had gotten a few from the various Sith naval forces and turned them down flatly.
The rest of the over 4500 crew of the Warspite had come from young hopefuls, those with the want to help build this alliance in to something bigger then themselves, but the humility and point of view to understand that service aboard this ship wasn't just another job aboard a system defense boat, or a mercenary contract. He had said so in his first address to the crew that morning.
"This is to be a fighting ship crewed by fighting men and women. I mean to take her in to war should the need arise, and I ask, and expect, each and every one of you to do your duty as creed and duty commands you to."
He had spent most of the day after that touring his new command, and he didn't find anything wanting.
As he settled fully, his XO arrived with a steaming cup of chocolate recaff in her hand. "Sir." She offered and he took it. She was wearing a similar uniform to him, but it did little to hide the Imperial in her. He sipped it, over looking the bridge crew doing their business. "Calm your self just a bit XO, this is a milk run." She dipped her head, the peaked cap lowering just enough to hide her smile. "Apologies sir." He chuckled. "And XO, its "skipper" not just Sir. I expect to be called captain in a formal setting, this is not one." She raised a brow. "Formal settings are for Politicians and the like. I am not one. Do not let the light saber on my hip fool you. When I wear this uniform I am an officer first. And good officers know when to turn it off."
She nodded again, reaching for a data pad. "I have the report for you, skipper." He nodded, motioning for her to continue. "The Si tech crews have all largely disembarked, save those staying on hand to monitor those certain systems we spoke about before hand. We have a full roster of 4563, with a full 2 years supply load and at least 1.5 replacements for each fighter, as well as enough materials to effect near total rebuilds of the Melinoe and Spellbound should the need arise." He thought for a moment. They were the two escort frigates docked in the twin tailer made conformal docking sections just fore of the main hanger decks.
"Go on." She nodded. "Officers and division chiefs across all decks report ready for sortie, and the ships Master at Arms reports full security compliment is armed and posted. He also reports a full armed watch aboard as per Naval regulation. Gunnery reports green across the board, as does astrogation, engineering, medical, and flight ops with a special note that our CAG boss seems rather excited to be back in service."
She lowered the pad, looking out across the bridge and CIC. "All in all sir, we look green to sortie." He nodded, leaning forward in his chair and tapping the 1MC controls on his chair. "All hands, All hands this is your captain speaking. I have green reports from all decks, all divisions. Now here this, Set Condition 2 and ready for sortie."
With that, the bridge rose in a flurry of motion as crew and officers perked up and begin issuing orders. With a little bit of excitement and perhaps a feeling of pride, his crew went in to emotion an the 4 large drives at the rear of the vessel flickered, then roared to life as the Warspite left dock and made for open space over Refuge.
