[center][b][h1]HSV Resource[/h1][/b][/center]
[i]Apollo Shipyards, Lalande 21185 System[/i]
Captain Lee strolled into the smoky briefing room, acknowledging the gathered officers and NCOs rising to their feet with a half-hearted salute before heading straight to the podium. The Resource had been on shipyard duty for the past 6 months, officially it was downtime between deployments, unofficially it was busy-work, using the Assistance Class' repair facilities to perform basic repairs and maintenance to ships back from patrol, freeing up slipways for major casualties and building work. His men were anxious to take the Old Lady out again, she was a fleet repair ship and her place wasn't here with the contractors and docksmen.

“At ease.” the captain said, pressing a button on the console built into the podium in front of him. The wall behind him shimmered, and transformed into a star display centred on their current position at the shipyards. Pausing for a second, the image then zoomed back out, tracking across the Orion Arm before resting on some unnamed system on the border of controlled space. “The Old Lady has an assignment.” Smiles spread across the flight officers and crew chiefs, and datapads were swiftly withdrawn as it became apparent this wasn't the ordinary daily repair brief. “We are to RV in this system with the other ships that will form Hegemony Deep Space Task Force 148, and from there conduct a standard long-range patrol until relieved. No, I don't know when that is, before you ask. Further orders are to be issued in-system, but I'm authorised to give you the repair brief now.”

The repair brief was an essential part of pre-mission planning. Each crew chief present would be assigned a member of the patrol, and it was his responsibility to study their blueprints, design spec and technological intricacies. The idea being that, in case of an emergency, the Task Force would have repair crews capable of operating swiftly and effectively, without relying on individual captains directing outside repair crews on top of commanding their own vessels. “First up, the flagship.” A button press, and the wall behind him flashed up the technical schematics of the dreadnought HSV Mictlantecuhtli. A few of the men groaned. “Grover, she's yours. I've asked the XO to draw up a list of all  Nahuatl speakers on the crew, you should have it before we're underway. What we know – these ships are heavily armoured and shielded, which is good for us, but they carry short-ranged guns, so she'll probably keep us busy. She's smaller than most dreads we've served with, which will be a blessing for your lazy legs Grover, and has a small fighter launch which she can mostly service and repair herself. Look over the blueies, and have an energency action plan on my desk by 0200 shipboard on Friday.”

Another button press, and this time the display brought up a sleek, modern looking cruiser, unfamiliar to many of them. “Jones, you get the HSV Europa. It's a class namer, still on its first coat of paint, so expect some technical wrinkles on its shake-down. It's provisionally classed as a heavy cruiser, so expectations are that this will be the primary ship of the line in mid to long engagements. The Admiralty assures me that the ship is heavily armoured enough to hold her own, and heavily armed enough to take on a dread at range. Personally, I'll believe the Admiralty when I see proof, so expectations are that this ship will be suffering pretty heavy battle damage, plan accordingly.”

The display changed to another cruiser, this one more squat and compact than the Europa, but bulkier, and more powerful-looking. “The HSV Nelson. Gregory, you're on this one. Probably one of the most reliable ship classes going, she's sturdy and hard to break. She carries plenty of her own supplies, and three AIs to make interfacing for repair jobs even easier. Frankly, if she's in trouble, then we're all in trouble, but that doesn't mean you can slack on your report!”

“Now, the trouble begins – our destroyer contingent.” The screen displayed three very different ships. One was a hyper-sleek clack arrow, its image giving a striking sense of it piercing the heavens. The next was a squat, insect-like craft bristling with weapons and defensive systems. The third and final one was a ramshackle-looking Opportunity Class, a class even older than the Old Lady, and though this one showed signs of a recent-ish overhaul, enough of the crew chiefs had worked with Opportunities before to know the problems that could be caused by the dated computer infrastructure and thin-skin hull.

“HSVs Trapper, Vespera and The Vulture's Claw. Three more different ships you're not likely to see, Hells know it's enough to make you wish for standardisation!” the crew laughed, the Hegemony was so vast, and its military resources so diverse, that standardisation had remained a pipe dream for the last century or more. “Kyle, you get the Opportunity Class. You've worked with a couple before, this one has the Mk.2 upgrade package so you're spared the old engine system at least. Hutton, you have the Malediction. She's tough and reliable, and a long-ranger to boot, to she shouldn't be too much trouble. Nielson, you get The Vulture's Claw. Currently, I have no data to share, but The Admiralty assures me that we'll get the tech specs before mission underway. All I know is she's Ixythl, which means we'll probably have to sign NDAs before we board to put out fires and patch the hull, so just make do with the external plans and do the best you can.”

“The Old Lady will sail again, and as always, she will perform above all expectations, even our own, is that clear? Dismissed.”