Starbase 471 – The Sæhrímnir Station (Sae'hrim'nir)

Written by DoStuffZ

Arrival at Deep Station 471 – The Sæhrímnir Station

As your ship drops out of warp, the stars stretch and snap back into pinpricks. Ahead, silhouetted against a blue-hazed nebula, a structure begins to resolve on your forward viewscreen.

“Station 471 – Sæhrímnir Station" flashes on your HUD, tagged with a local IFF ping and layered comm traffic. The station doesn't look elegant — it looks alive. Orbiting it like bees to a hive are cargo haulers, modular freighters, and two smaller couriers weaving between docking vectors.

Two freighters are docked: one loading pallets of compressed alloy and sealed atmospheric units, the other offloading power cells and habitat scaffolding. A third vessel floats nearby, holding position. It's unclear if it's next in line or waiting for a sister ship to finish its transaction so they can depart together in convoy.

Zooming in, Sæhrímnir looks like a patchwork cathedral of function: portions of its superstructure gleam with fresh Federation alloy plating, while others are marked by scaffolds, exposed conduits, and hazard-stripe panels. Portions of the outer ring blink red—“CAUTION: EVA REQUIRED BEYOND THIS POINT”. Service drones crawl along spines of metal like ants across a fallen log.

Calling in yields a response after a delay—tinny, like it bounced through an analog relay first.

"Sæhrímnir, we see you. Come in on Docking Port 4. Maintenance crews are standing by."

Your docking clamps engage with a subtle thump, and the airlock cycles open with a hiss.

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Inside Sæhrímnir

You step onto a deckplate that vibrates under your boots — not from instability, but from activity. The station has a pulse: echoing footfalls, overlapping voices, the hum of machinery and distant laughter from somewhere deeper in.

The walls here are scuffed. Paint flakes from older support beams. Weld marks are fresh in some places, covered by temporary signage in others. Clearly, the structure was once something smaller—and now it's growing.

You pass through arrival protocols—barebones but efficient—and emerge onto what locals call “the promenade,” though it’s more block market than promenade proper. Still, it has the bones of a real hub:

• A bar hums with low music, possibly live — stringed, raw, and heartfelt.
• Shops line the inner curve, selling everything from mining gear to soil calibrators, plasma cutters to protective shielding.
• Public holo-suites sit in a cluster, with glowing "available" tags and booking kiosks. A man in a stained jumpsuit emerges from one, laughing and adjusting his collar.

It's a place where station contractors rub elbows with deep-space traders, where you might see a Tellarite arguing with a Ferengi over docking fees while a Starfleet engineer hauls fusion core parts down a half-lit corridor marked UNDER CONSTRUCTION.

Above it all, Sæhrímnir doesn’t feel abandoned. It feels like a beginning. Something new being forged from the bones of something old.

And you can’t help but feel that everyone here — the honest, the shady, and the watchful — is waiting for something to tip.

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REGIONAL FREIGHT & TRAFFIC FLOW

Here’s the start of a believable logistical map:

Route	Direction	Type	Notes
Dilithium Haul Convoys	K-347 Mining Colony → Deep Station 471	Heavy freighters, Type-9 trucks	Raw dilithium bound for refining or redistribution deeper into Fed space. Heavily targeted by raiders.
Construction Supply Convoys	Inner Federation → Deep Station 471	Mixed cargo haulers	Station modules, fusion cores, shielding panels, replicator banks. Often underdefended.
Colonial Lifeline Routes	Deep Station 471 → Colonies (Adar-6, Theta-9, etc.)	Shuttle-scale cargo	Medical supplies, power cells, rations. Operated by junior Starfleet captains, some freelancers.
Shadow-Run Traffic	Unknown → ???	Unregistered vessels, silent-running	Rumored black market or Tal Shiar-aligned smuggling routes. Heimdahl might intercept or trace these.

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by AI, DoStuffZ

Operational Status: Partially active, undergoing modular expansion.

• Initial framework is an older refitted superstructure (likely left behind post-Dominion War).
• Construction is underway on new habitat rings, additional docking pylons, and a classified substructure below the main docking collar.
• Core systems fully online: communications, life support, repair facilities, defensive grid.
• Station’s command center operates out of a retrofitted mid-section, not yet the final bridge or ops tower.

“You can still see the weld lines in the airlock. It hums like a ghost under your boots.”

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Alternative Names

The Roast

Type

Orbital, Station

Owning Organization

Starfleet Command

Expansion Arc Hooks

• Sabotage: Something is delaying construction. Missing components. Malfunctioning systems. Is it internal corruption, outside tampering, or something subtler?
• "Trucks" Disappearing: One of the dilithium convoys goes dark. Only Heimdahl is fast enough to intercept possible raiders. But it’s not pirates—it’s something worse.
• False Friends: The Rhea provides backup, but her diplomatic efforts are undermined by strange readings. A Federation ally might be smuggling delta-tech through construction manifests.
• Artifact Exposure: A container from a mining convoy is leaking a radiation signature… that shouldn’t exist in this quadrant. It’s not dilithium.

The Roast Hearth — Starbase 471, Sæhrímnir Roast

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As soon as you step off the docking ring into the heart of Starbase 471, the smell hits you — smoke, crackling fat, and a primal richness that cuts through the recycled station air like a blade. The Roast Hearth is impossible to miss: a massive frontage directly facing the main thoroughfare, flanked by two towering holographic firepits, each slow-turning a glorious, golden roast.

There’s almost always a line, even during the graveyard shift. Only the deepest hours of Beta Watch see the queues thin enough for a straight walk-in — and even then, someone’s usually lingering over a final drink, staring into the illusory flames.

The atmosphere inside blends survival, morale, and a touch of old frontier luxury:

• Tables are slabs of real hardwood — raw-edged, uneven, and scarred by generations of elbows, knives, and laughter.
• Benches creak under the weight of miners, traders, Starfleet crews, and the occasional Klingon warrior slapping the tabletop for another round.
• The air is heavy with music — old Earth fiddle tunes, Bajoran drumbeats, Tellarite bar shouts — whatever fits the spirit of the night.

And always, always, there’s a roast cooking — a real one. Not replicated, not synthed. A full, slow fire-adhering to Starfleet’s strict live-fire regulations — which someone, somewhere, bent into compliance with a sly grin and a heavily footnoted risk waiver.

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The Menu:

"If it’s not fresh, it’s not Sæhrímnir."

Prepared daily by the legendary Sven Lønneberg — an ex-merchant marine turned frontier chef — the Hearth’s offerings include:

• Flæskesteg — Danish-style pork roast, skin blistered to crispy perfection.
• Wild Bacon Slabs — thick cuts, smoky and decadent, fried in open pan.
• Pork Rillettes — seasoned, shredded boar meat, slow-cooked for days until it spreads like soft fire across bread.
• Boar Sausages and Pâté — earthy, spicy, packed with wild flavors.

For those in a hurry (or nursing wounds that demand easy comfort), a tray of boar snacks — cracklings, sausage bites, jellied hocks — can be grabbed at the service counter.

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Drink Pairings:

• Klingon Bloodwine (for those brave enough to keep pace)
• Frontier ales, dark and heavy
• Locally-brewed barley spirits — stronger than regulation recommends, but nobody’s counting

Patrons can also book the station’s infamous 'Butcher’s Cut' experience:
Pick a live, tracked boar from the Herdbook, claim your cut, and watch it prepped for you via real-time holodisplay, while the beast is beamed (ethically) and cooked to order.

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Holodeck Integration: Pen Watch

For those who want to earn their meat — or just blow off steam — the adjacent holosuite “Pen Watch” offers:

• Virtual tours of the wild herds grazing across Moon Theta-7.
• Herding challenges: Race drones to capture wayward boars.
• Wild capture games: Brave the holographic woods and lasso a beast by hand.
• Breeding simulations: Plan genetic pairings for maximum taste and sustainability.
• Winners earn free meals, a "Roast Champion" badge — and a hefty slice of station pride.

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Klingon Popularity:

Klingons absolutely adore the Roast Hearth.
Word of the Sæhrímnir roast reached across the sector: if they can dock at DS9 or Free Haven, they can reach 471. Many warriors come specifically to honor Sæhrímnir’s endless feast spirit, slamming tankards and demanding meat still steaming from the kill.

It’s not uncommon to see three Klingon captains laughing uproariously at a table while Tellarite engineers argue philosophy two benches over and a Vulcan medic quietly slices bacon into perfect squares — a true frontier stew of the galaxy.

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