U.S.S. Pathfinder — NCC-1774

MD 2.0255  (22650803.0255)

U.S.S. Pathfinder — Gymnasium

With a subtle press of a finger, Jack caused the blade of his command saber to extend and tack shape.

The action was mirrored in the form of Jonathan’s Romulan honor blade doing the same.

The two Starfleet captains brought their swords up into an onguard position even as they began to slowly circle the edge of the sparring mat like two ships remaining on opposite sides of a planet.

Jonathan was the first to break the status quo as he swung his blade around and down towards his brother who raised his own.

Secure in the grip of its master, the steel of Andúril’s blade rang like  bell as it blocked the opposing saber.

And in the sound of blade striking blade, a flood of memories flowed through Jonathan Hunter even as he pushed back with the force of his upper body to send his brother back a step.

But instead of following through with a counter strike of his own, he moved Andúril back into an onguard position even as he felt wetness at the corner of his eyes.

Andúril was more than a sword. … It was the physical representation of the ship Jonathan commanded — a ship forged from the shards of Excalibur and Exeter.

In fact, the metal used to forge the command saber was an even mixture taken from the remains of both heavily damaged ships of the line to represent their reforging into what now is the U.S.S. Andúril.

This brotherly feud dishonored the memories of those the blade was suppose to honor.

Jonathan swung the Romulan honor blade once more but instead of raising his own blade to block, Jack simply stepped to the side.

“I will not fight you,” he said, keeping Andúril held low and away.

“You’ll regret that,” Jonathan said, recovering.

“Maybe,” Jack said, switching off his saber. “Maybe not.”

Reattaching the collapsed blade back to his belt, the officer dropped to his knees and lowered his head as if awaiting execution by beheading.

“FIGHT ME!” Jonathan screamed.

He kicked his twin over backwards with a side kick to the chest.

Jack struggled to catch his breath for several seconds.

“No,” he whispered at last, before looking up into a face much like his own.

“You may hate me, but too much has passed and is happening for us to let this feud to get in the way of us performing our duty,” he continued quietly.

“You’re an ass,” Jonathan noted coldly.

“I may be an ass, but I’m an ass that has watched too many people die over the last couple of years,” Jack returned quietly.

Jonathan watched his brother with cold eyes, yet considered the words and finally collapsed his own saber.

“So have I,” he said at last.

Returning the collapsed Romulan blade to his utility belt, he offered his twin a hand to help him back to his feet.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about,” he said while doing so.

The time had come to work together.

“Indeed we do,” Jack returned.

Respectfully,

Capt. Jonathan Hunter
Commanding Officer
U.S.S. Pathfinder

and

Capt. Jack Hunter
Commanding Officer
U.S.S. Andúril

aka.
—Mike Tripp

——————–NRPG——————–

All: I have a few ideas on how to get us all back on the same page and will do so in my next post.