“…I’m afraid I didn’t know her well…” Captain Flynn Towers’ voice trailed off. He paced around the ready room aboard the USS Solvang, pausing between sentences. He was running his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth, muttering things under his breath.

“Captain Towers, please sit.” Captain O’va gestured toward the unoccupied chair across from her desk.

Commander Marcus Thorne sat across from his Captain in one of the two chairs on that side. “Please, Flynn, take a seat. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” His voice was warm and inviting. This guy’s starting to unravel. The pressure must have gotten to him. We have to handle this delicately.

“Alright. Yeah I’ll take a seat I guess. Sitting’s good.” Towers’ uniform was pressed, but his bloodshot eyes, and the dark circles beneath them told a different story. It had been several days after Solvang responded to the San Jose’s distress call. My first posting, lost…they’re going to throw me to the wolves…

“The Dvorak is underway to rendezvous with us, Captain Towers. We have towed your ship to the Surplus Yards above Qualor II and will await their arrival. Once they arrive, they will conduct an investigation into the events that brought us here, and if need be, we will tow San Jose to Starbase Bravo once we have concluded our business here.”

“Sure. Yeah, get her running again. That will help my case. I think.” Towers replied quietly. It was unclear whether he was simply uttering his thoughts aloud, or addressing the room, as his gaze wandered from the hulk of the San Jose, which was visible through the window of the ready room, to down at his feet.

O’va exchanged a glance with her First Officer; the half-Vulcan subtly raised both eyebrows, nodded her head and turned it towards the door. “Dismissed, Captain.”

Commander Thorne replied with a nod and guided Captain Towers out of the room. “Come on, Flynn, let’s get you something to eat. You like pizza? Our chef is one of the best. I taught him how to make a proper Chicago deep dish – it’ll knock your socks off.”

“Oh…uh, yeah I love pizza. That’d be swell. Hey how’d you know I was hungry?” Towers replied as he stood up and left the ready room with Thorne.

Once the doors quietly whisked closed, O’va keyed in the communications channel for Task Force Twenty-One command. “Captain Taren Voska, it is good to see you again. Unfortunately, I do not bear good news. Captain Towers is…unwell. I had him here in my ready room a moment ago. He was distressed – understandable for the circumstances but I have my staff keeping him occupied and under watch until your investigative team arrives. We towed the San Jose to the Z15 Surplus Yards in the Qualor system, as it was the closest port of call.”

“Captain O’va, well met. As you already know, the Dvorak will rendezvous with you at the surplus yards, under the command of Captain Raymond Price. He and his team will be conducting the investigation into the San Jose incident. Once Dvorak has concluded her inquiry, your command will provide you with further instructions. Voska out.”

O’va made her way to the bridge. Lieutenant Commander Hector Castillo, Solvang’s Chief of Operations, was seated in the command chair and was coordinating with Chief Engineer Wu on the main viewscreen. The Chief Engineer and his team were currently engaged in a salvage operation involving the procurement of a high-security vault that will be installed in Shuttlebay One.

O’va paused at the side of the bridge, her hands clasped behind her back and scanned the room. “Status report, Mister Castillo?”

“Captain, Chief Wu and his team have already begun removing the framework of the vault. We have a visual onscreen. She could see her engineering team carefully excising the critical part of the vault, the jettison mechanism.

“It looks like you have the situation well under control. Proceed as planned.” She resumed her stride towards the turbolift. Once the doors whisked shut a moment later, she keyed her communicator. “Valerius, meet me at the launch bay of the Lilypad. We are going to do some sightseeing while we wait for the investigators from Command.”

“Aye, sir. I’ll meet you there.”

O’va keyed her commbadge, directing it to her First Officer. “Marcus, I will be taking Valerius with me in the Lilypad. I have some business to attend to in the yards. I trust you will keep our guest occupied while we wait for the Dvorak.”

The sleek outline of the USS Lilypad, the Type 6A Captain’s Yacht of the Solvang, glided through the wreckage and hulks of the surplus yards, with its very own Captain at the helm. Her longtime friend, Lieutenant Commander Valerius accompanied her as copilot.

“Tell me, what is our destination?” Valerius inquired.

“It is not solely the destination, old friend. There is much to be gained from the curioddities we will observe along the way.”

Valerius elevated an eyebrow and cocked his head. “…Curioddities? Did you just make that up?”

“Hm? Apologies, that was something my father used to say. Still does. Incessantly. But I digress – my father used to engage in…enthusiastic and unscheduled high-bandwidth technical briefings about several ships in this surplus yard – four to be exact. However, this is the first time I will be seeing them in person. I have always reserved some measure of judgement in the validity of these stories. However, that is not to say that I wasn’t enamored by them. I grew up with him recounting and writing tales of starships past. Fantastic voyages – some historical, some fictional, some an artistic aggregate of the two.”

“So, it’s not even about the ships for you, is it? It’s about what inspired your father, and what made you both dream and wonder.”

“Precisely, Val. I am not entirely sure what these ships are, aside from decommissioned starships from over a century ago. However, that shall not prohibit us from taking highly detailed scans of these.”

He could swear that for a millisecond, he saw a mischievous grin spread across her often-stoic countenance.

“Some say that meeting one’s heroes often results in disappointment. I would hope that these ships don’t turn out that way for you.”

“It really doesn’t matter what we find. We will be taking highly detailed three-dimensional scans of these ships, so that we can recreate them in the holodeck. With these scans, we can do anything we desire. Ultimately, they will make a wonderful birthday present for my father.”

The Captain’s fingers danced across the controls, slowing the shuttle and bringing it about to the first of the four ships on their sightseeing tour. “Val, if you would be so kind as to initiate the scans?”

“I would be more than happy to oblige.” he replied, his hands skillfully keying in concise three-dimensional scans of the first ship.

“This certainly looks rather sleek. The nacelles look much like an old Constellation-class. I can see how they retained much of the look of the saucer section, the raised bridge.”

“That it does. Father said that this and the next two ships were the precursor to the Excelsior-class, in which Starfleet intended to revolutionize space travel. After the Enterprise was damaged in the battle within the Mutara Nebula, Starfleet needed a new capital ship. Enter the Excelsior-class. And these, according to my father, were prototypes that were being tested and presented for the selection process. This one in particular is rumored to have articulating pylons, just like the Intrepid-class.

As soon as the detailed scans were complete, the Lilypad proceeded onward to the second ship. “O’va, from above, that ship almost looks like the round knife with the rotating blade that Marcus uses to slice pizza.”

“You know, you are right. The stardrive and saucer does look like a pizza cutter.”

When viewed from above, the saucer was again round, with the stardrive section starting out narrower than the saucer. As it progressed rearward, the secondary hull gradually sloped wider, until two wings extended outward sharply, before sloping back inward at the tail. Upon either wing, one upper and lower nacelle were attached on short pylons that extended distally at an angle. The top section of the saucer and stardrive was remarkably flat, whereas on the underside, the stardrive protruded in a slope that progressed downward, increasing from center to aft in depth – essentially the inverse of what is seen on most modern ships.

“It certainly does look fast compared to its contemporary competition, the Constitution-class. Oddly flat on top though. Incredibly wide with those wings. Quite a strange look having the wings and nacelles so much wider than the saucer section. The thickness of the hull is biased rearward, unlike most conventional ships. And with that, the internal and external scans of the second ship are complete.”

Once more, the Lilypad glided through the menagerie of derelicts, debris and devastation that the surplus yards housed within. The shuttlecraft cut its engines, coming to a stop in front of the third ship on their tour.

“I would surmise that the designer felt that a flatter design was indicative of a higher potential speed.”

“On that matter, we both agree. I will say, the D-shaped saucer is intriguing. However, the flatness of the design is rather similar to most starships we see these days.”

“Val, I know you’re right, but I wish it were not so. These new ships, I don’t see much in them. Yes, today’s ships are more advanced than ever, but…”

“But you actually like being captain aboard a California-class.”

“I do. And I am not ashamed of admitting it. My father and I spent plenty of time aboard Galaxy and Nebula-class starships, attending conferences. We spent several vacations at the fleet museum, touring everything stored there. I like history. I like older ships. They have character. Like this next one. You will see.” O’va charmed Lilypad’s helm towards the final ship along their tour.

“For once, I am speechless. Actually, strike that…I thought you had better taste than that.” Valerius teased. However, it did not seem to phase her.

“That, my friend, is ship registry B-24-CLN. Apparently, that was designed to be the replacement for the original Constitution-class Enterprise, after she completed her five-year mission under Captain Kirk, before they encountered the V’Ger entity. There was another similar ship, registry NES-1701, but there was little to no information on that ship. Lost to time, some say. However, this one is here, after all these years.  You will never guess what design feature they incorporated.”

“Holographic communications systems?”

O’va turned to her friend. He had never seen such excitement in a Vulcan’s eyes before. Let alone a half-Vulcan’s, for that matter.

“Saucer separation. With planetary landing capabilities.”

“Surely you must be joking.”

“I never joke about starships, and don’t call me Shirley.”

“I didn’t call you…never mind.” Valerius, still puzzled by her remark, adjusted the scans for high resolution scanning once more, and began scanning the peculiar ship that drifted before them. “Strange…the scans of the saucer section are incomplete. Something about that section of the hull’s composition is disrupting the scanners. Wait…did you think I called you Shirley when I said surely?”

“That one flew over your head at warp nine, Val. Chalk up another victim to one of my father’s quips. Make sure you get accurate visual scans of the outer hull at least. Also, I was partially-expecting that. If the saucer section was intended for planetfall, I presumed they would have reinforced the hull plating.”

“You know, O’va…we are here, and we have the authorization…I think we should inspect the interior for anomalous readings? It seems imperative we do so, for the sake of these surplus yards, wouldn’t you agree? I mean, what if there were some sort of security risk, just lying in wait inside?”

O’va straightened her posture, and puffed out her chest. Her tone immediately gained the formality of rank. “You are correct, Lieutenant Commander Valerius. The inability to produce accurate scans of this mysterious ship requires further investigative measures, for the sake of all present in these surplus yards. I find it prudent that we send a security team to explore this ship, to ensure there are no security risks hiding aboard.”

“Aye sir, I will prepare the environmental suits and prepare a power transfer to restore emergency power aboard the ship.”

“Are you ready? This should be the bridge. Help me get this door open.”

O’va and Valerius attached manual actuators to the doors, fighting the century of neglect to wrestle them open.

The emergency lighting cast a soft glow across the vast bridge, powered by a delicate trickle of energy from the Lilypad. The two stepped into the vast circular room, emerging from the corridor onto the lower of the two levels. O’va withdrew her tricorder and took some preliminary scans. “It seems that basic life support systems are operational, the atmosphere is almost breathable. But I would rather not chance breathing in whatever has been floating in here.”

Valerius stepped forward, tricorder and phaser in hand, scanning for life signs. “On that, I agree. It looks like we are the only life signs aboard.” He returned the phaser to its holster at his waist.

O’va looked over at him, noticing the phaser he brought with him had not been standard-issue for at least a century. “Val…is that a Type 2 from the late twenty-third?”

He turned back with a half-mischievous, half-smug smile. “I can’t let you be the only one reminiscing, now can I?”

“You know, the least you could have done was bring one for me.”

The deckplates echoed the sound of their bootsteps across the vast, dome-shaped room. They walked along the semicircle of crew stations on the lower deck, the lamps set low on their EV suits. Both of their tricorders were beeping, chirping, and trilling as they took highly detailed scans of the long-abandoned bridge.

The Lilypad’s minimal power feed restored a modicum of power to the consoles, their soft glow painting the room. The entire layout was vast and spacious, unlike the cramped pragmatism of later designs. The minimalist design style encompassed the entire room, with its sweeping circular layout, chairs stationed along the rim below, much akin to the indices denoting the hourly gradations upon the dial of a vintage chronometer. Buttons and touchscreens were spread forth in a vast array, without care for compactness.

“I had not imagined it to be so vast inside. This bridge is even larger than that of a Galaxy-class. Father would be in awe right now.” O’va ran a tricorder over each console. The device chirped, translating the one hundred and thirty-year-old circuitry into compact files for archival.

“I would imagine that a bridge this size would have been rather time-consuming and expensive to produce for a crew complement roughly the same as ours. Compare that to today, when we now have ships like the Yorktown-class – can you believe that? One of those ships is twice as long as Solvang, and ten times the crew.”

“I can, Val. They are building veritable cities in space. I wonder if commanding one of those feels more like mayor than captain. I am quite content with Solvang. She is a fine ship. I would rather not have that many people to account for.”

Valerius moved with the same careful reverence. Each of the crew stations received methodical scanning arcs, cataloguing the now-antiquated circuitry. “I agree with you there, however I sincerely hope we do not find ourselves in any sort of battle without close aid. She certainly isn’t a battleship.”

“Battles are the farthest thing from my mind. I hope we do not have to fight. I do prefer Picard diplomacy. It would be nice to have the firepower of a Galaxy-class to back it up, however. But it is irrelevant. We have friends with powerful ships if we require a more sizable stick.”

“That sounds like an ancient-Earth reference…speak quietly and carry a tremendous club, was it not?”

“Hm…something like that.” The captain replied, as she swept her tricorder upward. The device hummed, scanning the dome’s massive curvature that would later render the architecture in a holodeck with high fidelity. “Val…look up.”

Valerius followed suit, matching her level of awe. “Is that…stellar cartography? On the ceiling?”

“…’All I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by’…this is fascinating. Guided by the stars themselves…”

The two proceeded to the upper level, a smaller circular platform approximately half the size of the room, biased rearward. The captain’s chair sat upon a dais, slightly elevated from the two command chairs positioned in front of it.

O’va walked over to the center chair, each slow bootstep echoing loudly on the plating. Each step was made with purpose – reverent yet still filled with the eagerness of an explorer. Valerius watched as she approached the chair. Her hand hovered over the armrest. It was quite the departure from the original Constitution-class. Instead of the boxy shape, it was as if someone drew a very similar chair, but with wide smooth lines instead of sharp corners.

“You look as if you wish to sit down.” Valerius broke the silence.

“The notion entices me, but…I am not certain it would be appropriate. It is not my ship. Even though this ship never made it past the prototype phase, this ship probably inspired the Crossfield and Glenn-class. This is a forgotten footnote in history.”

“As your subordinate, I cannot order you to do anything. As your friend, sit in that damned chair, so I don’t have to hear about it later on.” He firmly placed his hands on her shoulders, and guided her in front of the chair. “Besides, the chair aboard Solvang is atrociously uncomfortable, and I have already made highly detailed scans, which I plan on sharing with Wu, so that he can construct you a replica.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” O’va cocked her head slightly in agreement. She placed her hands on the armrests and lowered herself into the seat. She relaxed into the chair, allowing its cushion to support her.

“This is horrendous. It’s far too deep. Help me up. Perhaps my father will enjoy it, but it seems I must go back to the proverbial drawing board.” They locked onto each other’s forearms as he helped hoist her upright from the chair’s deep clutches. “Oh, and thank you. That would have been a disaster had I selected that design. We would have had the crew falling asleep on duty in that monstrosity.”

“Let’s head back. With that, the scans are complete. The Surplus Yards are safe from anything hiding within this old bucket of stem bolts. I doubt these are even self-sealing.”