Agh, cliffhanger. More, more, keep writing. O_O
Border Cutter Silverfin - "The Ties That Bind"
- Thread starter Bry_Sinclair
- Start date
What a twisted sadist the mistress is, returning the hostage only to then destroy them all. How much easier it would have been for her to not bother returning her at all. I'm sure she'll come to regret that move.
But in the meantime there is a battle to be had. Our heroes chances don't look so good right now but something tells me they've got a plan.
But in the meantime there is a battle to be had. Our heroes chances don't look so good right now but something tells me they've got a plan.
Chapter 12
Star Stallion 2
Argaya System
Their plan had worked just as they’d hoped. The Mirage fled into an area of densely packed debris and the Chanok ship had pursued. But as it was, the meteoroids would make it impossible for them to manoeuvre. At which point the Stallion pounced. As Lieutenant Llewellyn-Smyth moved the shuttle out from its hiding place, Tyler had opened fire with their phasers and micro-torpedoes. For such a small ship, the Star Stallions packed a big punch.
At first, they had the element of surprise and he was able to batter their starboard shields with their barrage. But as soon as their edge was gone and the Chanok opened fire, whilst reversing back out into a more open region, he could only take shots when Llewellyn-Smyth got them into a firing position—not an easy feat when avoiding multiple phaser banks and torpedo launchers.
At the Academy, Tyler had read over what information they had on the Chanok (just as he had done on the Tholians, Romulans, Borg, Talarians and numerous other hostile races), but all of that was over a century old. He had never expected to come across the savage and unpredictable species in his lifetime, and was trying to recall what he could on their tactics. Unfortunately what they had wasn’t much, decades out of date, and didn’t include anything about how they would fight in a dense asteroid belt.
Llewellyn-Smyth slammed them into a spin as she avoided yet another torpedo, and Tyler felt his stomach sink again, quickly followed by the sense of nausea. She had kept the inertial dampeners at a low level to make the Stallion more responsive, but it meant that the crew inside felt every little movement. He breathed through the queasiness and launched another micro-torpedo at the target. He had to admit that the Lieutenant’s skill at the controls was unlike anyone’s he had ever seen—even the best pilot in his class couldn’t compare to Llewellyn-Smyth’s finesse.
She pushed the Stallion forward, towards the Chanok ship. Her movements were slight, but enough to keep them from being hit. Tyler saw on the sensors that it was close on occasion, but not enough to affect their shields. Behind them in full body armour, Commander Amorin had readied the transporters and was scanning for a beam-in site.
Tyler glanced at his readouts and saw that the Mirage had moved behind their pre-arranged shelter—a large stationary boulder, filled with dense metals which interfered with sensors.
“The Mirage is clear sir,” he reported for Amorin’s benefit, though he didn’t take his eyes away from the controls, taking several more quick shots at the Chanok vessel.
“Understood Ensign,” the Benzenite XO replied, before cursing under the hiss of the breather mask. “Their internal architecture is unlike any I’ve seen before. I can’t locate their bridge.”
Tyler felt a cold shiver creep down his spine. If they couldn’t find the bridge for the team to beam into and secure the hostile ship, their attack would useless. There was only so long they could evade the continuous disruptor blasts and torpedoes—even with someone as good as Llewellyn-Smyth at the controls.
“Do we fall back?” Tyler asked.
“We’re dead if we do Ensign,” Amorin replied. “I’m scanning for their warp core. We can beam into the engine room and seize control from their.” He worked for a moment longer before his console gave an affirmative chirp. “I’ve got a matter/antimatter power signature, and locking co-ordinates. Tyler, lock on and prepare for transport. Harriet, get us into their shield bubble,” he ordered moving to join the four security specialists.
“We’ll be within their shields in twelve seconds,” Llewellyn-Smyth stated, pitching the ship to port and accelerating.
Tyler got the transporters ready whilst also continuing their attack with the Stallions forward phasers. He locked onto the five unique lifesigns in the midship compartment, boosted power to the annular confinement beam and pattern buffer and stood ready to energise the moment they were in position.
Llewellyn-Smyth was as good as her word, and in just under twelve seconds she punched the Stallion through the shielding of the Chanok ship. It was a rough ride, with their own shields taking a beating, but they were in position and their extreme proximity to the alien ship would render their targeting array next thing to useless and would limit them to phasers only—a torpedo detonation at close range would cause as much damage to the Chanok as it would to the Stallion.
Once inside the shield perimeter, he ran a quick scan and saw that they were relatively safe for the time being. “In position Lieutenant,” he told her as she brought them in closer to the dark crimson hull.
“Drop shields and energise Ensign,” the Conn Officer ordered.
With the tap of a single control he lowered their shields, and then activated the transporters. Behind them came the familiar hum of the transporter and he monitored the process, as the boarding team dematerialised, their patterns going through the buffer and then sent along the ACB, before materialising at the co-ordinates Amorin had specified. The process took seven seconds, and as soon as he had their lifesigns on the Chanok ship he raised their shields once again. The transporters targeting scanners kept a lock on the combadges of all five members, and he stood ready to retrieve them in case anything went wrong.
He cast a sideways glance at the pilot, and saw that Harriet was biting her bottom lip, her brow furled. In the two months he’d been onboard the Silverfin he had never seen her nervous—it reinforced what he already knew; things could go very badly very quickly.
***
Engineering Section, Chanok Striker Gzek’ta
Argaya System
Their assault on the Chanok ship had gone as he had expected it, but with Llewellyn-Smyth and Tyler at the controls he hadn’t expected anything else. Now was the time for his part in the harebrained plan he had devised.
As soon as the transporter released them the first thing that registered was the heat—at least thirty degrees (but coming from a planet with little atmosphere he was used to a much cooler environment). The second thing he noticed were two humanoids half way down the corridor he stood at the end of. His phaser carbine already raised, he got off two shots in quick succession and the crewmembers crumpled to the deck. Behind he heard three other shots fired. His scans onboard the Stallion showed that the engine room itself was heavily shielded, so he had chosen a beam-in site as close to it as he could, and opted for a four-way intersection.
“Clear,” he stated. Quickly followed by the same pronouncement from Syva, Mycroft and Blue. Crewman Drim stood at the centre of the group, sweeping the area with his combat scanner—a device they all wore strapped to their forearm.
“There are four other lifesigns in close proximity,” he reported, gesturing in the direction Syva and Mycroft faced, “two in each direction. The warp core is thirty-eight-point-six meters that way,” he added, gesturing down the corridor Amorin faced.
Before he could issue any orders, a groaning klaxon filled the corridors. An intruder alert? That was faster that I’d expected, he noted. He had been relying on the element of surprise once again to get them to engineering and take control of the ship. But that wasn’t to be. He looked at Syva.
“Let’s move out Master Chief.”
She gave a curt nod. “Tactical formation Beta,” she ordered coolly, utilising the combat manoeuvres she had devised and drilled into every member of her staff, as well as all the officers and most of the long-serving non-coms on the Silverfin.
At her order, Mycroft moved ahead carbine raised and body poised, K8 Blue was close behind. Amorin followed on, with Drim behind him and Syva at the rear. They moved steadily and efficiently, staying close to alcoves and partitions they could use for cover if needed. Amorin could feel the adrenaline surge through his system, but experience and training tempered it. He noted that both Blue and Drim were doing a fine job of keeping on top of their feelings, given that they were the rookies on the team. Had Syva not been Chief of the Boat, he would have felt wary about having a couple of untried and untested crewmen on a mission such as this. But the Vulcan Master Chief drilled her people hard from the day they stepped foot onboard, making sure that they were capable of facing anything that was thrown at them.
They had only gone twelve or so meters when Amorin’s natural echolocation alerted him to the approaching soldiers, a half-second before the combat scanners registered the twenty-two lifeforms coming at them for all directions.
“Take cover,” Syva ordered, spinning back the way they had come and moving to what shelter she could find. Amorin and the others followed suit, he ducked into an alcove and aimed his weapon in the direction they had been heading. Less than five minutes onboard, they hadn’t even covered a third of the distance to their target, let alone securing the engine room and then the rest of the ship, and they now faced odds of four-to-one, against an enemy whose capabilities they didn’t know in an arena that was very alien to them.
Things were looking bad.
“Here they come,” yelled Mycroft, before the screech of phaser fire filled the corridor.
***
Tactical Centre, Chanok Striker Gzek’ta
Argaya System
“Mistress, we have a security breach in the engineering section. Five lifesigns; Human, Vulcan, Bolian and two others I cannot identify,” stated Zaks’ky from the Scanner station (from which the body of the previous operator had since been removed).
Verr’ja hit the comunit on armrest of her chair. “Sub-Jahr Than’ok, we have intruders in the engineering section. Eliminate them.”
“It shall be done Mistress,” came the Senior Guardsman’s swift reply.
She turned her attention to Vret’ez. “Ordnance Officer, what about that shuttle?”
“They are still within the perimeter of the defence grid Mistress. I cannot acquire weapons lock at this range,” he told her, his head bowed low.
Vret’ez was one of the best officers on the Gzek’ta, not an incompetent trixit like Ysot’la had been. She didn’t relish the idea of having to find another efficient gunner, but that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t dispose of him as well if he failed again.
Since the Starfleet shuttle had punched through their defence grid they hadn’t fired on them, no doubt they wanted to keep their board team safe. It was a weakness Starfleet had had before the Chanok turned its back on the fragile empire, and it looked like they hadn’t outgrown their compassion. But then again, compassionate people always had one fatal flaw.
A sinister grin spread across her bronze face. “Charge the plasma cannons again. Lock onto all the asteroids that could conceal the Mirage. Obliterate them,” she ordered calmly. She looked down at her Second-in-Command. “The Starfleet ship won’t expose itself needlessly. But if we threaten a civilian ship, they will move to take action.”
Zaks’ky bowed his head slightly. “Very cunning Mistress, using their weakness against them.”
Pleased that her Second-in-Command knew his place, she looked back at the Ordnance Officer. “Have all pulse batteries at maximum and ready the targeting array.”
“Pulse batteries online. Plasma cannons fully charged and targets acquired.”
“Fire.”
***
Star Stallion 2
Argaya System
If the Stallion were any closer to the Chanok ship she would be sitting on its hull. However, even given their extreme proximity the larger ship still took the occasional shot at them. Each one missed, her targeting systems and phaser emplacements not designed to take out a ship within its own shield geometry. But they could have had attack fighters already en route to engage them so she kept a close eye on the sensors, one hand on the joystick and the other close to the impulse power control.
As tense as Llewellyn-Smyth found it simply waiting in the eye of the hurricane, within the enemy ship the boarding team had met with considerable resistance. Amorin had ordered them only to retrieve the team if they sent an emergency signal, and so far no such signal had been sent. Tyler kept monitoring their progress—what little they had made—so she was the one that noticed the spike in energy readings.
Before she could say anything however, the ship unleashed two enormous pulses of energy from the two large emitters at the front of the ship—a design feature she had though of as deflector dishes. The Stallions sensors catalogued the energy and identified it as massive blasts of plasma, with the same destructive yield as three quantum torpedoes. Each blast slammed into a different meteoroid, the smallest on par with a Miranda-Class ship, and decimated them. According to the sensors none of the remains were larger than that of Workbee, with most of the rock being turned into dust.
“Those bastards,” she hissed. “They’re goading us, so that we’ll move out and into their targeting range.”
Tyler was now looking at the same readings she was. “It won’t take them long to find the Mirage. We have to do something Lieutenant.”
Llewellyn-Smyth looked at the readouts. They were charging for another volley. There was no telling where they would target next, but there were only so many asteroids that could hide the small transport. The hunk of rock they were hiding behind not only prevented other ships sensors from picking them up, but prevented them from picking up anything as well. The Mirage would have no way of knowing what was coming their way.
“Ensign, could you arm the micro-torpedoes but then deploy them like mines?”
“Yes sir, but we’d still have to be beyond minimum safe distance when then detonated.”
“Let me worry about that. Ready the torpedoes and charge the phasers,” she instructed, as she readied the impulse engines and familiarised herself with the design of the unsightly Chanok ship.
It took a few moments, but Tyler reported, “Torpedoes ready and phasers fully charged.”
“We’re going to take out those forward weapon ports,” she told him, powering the thrusters and moving towards the front of the ship. She made sure to stay close to the hull, so as to keep from presenting the Chanok with a target, dodging the multiple phaser emitters that adorned the warship.
As they neared the front of the ship two more bolts of plasma were released, and two more chunks of rock were reduced to little more than dust. As powerful as the plasma weapons were they appeared to need several minutes to recharge and fire again, which made what she was about to do slightly less crazy.
“Engaging attack pattern theta, release the torpedoes on my command,” she said, and then swung the Stallion down towards the two glowing weapon turrets. The Chanok opened fire on them once again, but she kept the Stallion out of the kill zone and pressed on towards the energy cannons.
She pitched the ship so that the micro-torpedo launcher was aimed at their twin targets, which glowed brighter with each passing second. “Now!” she ordered, pushing the shuttle towards the cannons—their increased momentum would help the torpedoes drift into the crimson hull of the enemy ship.
Tyler launched the eight micro-torpedoes they had left. They headed straight for the two heavy weapon ports, the Stallion only just ahead of them. Once the launchers were empty she hit the impulse control and the ship lurched forward. She ducked under the ventral hull and accelerated towards the rear of the ship, using the jutting structures across the hull to offer them a degree of protect.
Behind them the micro-torpedoes reached their target, and exploded on contact with the hull. Though the micro-torpedoes were nowhere near as powerful as their full-sized counterparts, their matter/antimatter annihilation still produced a big enough punch to take out one of the forward cannons and damage the second. Despite her best effort, the resulting shockwave caught the Stallion and buffeted them off of course.
Screaming alarms filled the cockpit.
“We’ve been thrown out of their shield grid. We are in their targeting range!” reported Tyler, his voice tight.
“Impulse engines are offline, switching to full thrusters,” she stated just as the first volley of torpedoes were incoming.
***
Star Stallion 2
Argaya System
Their plan had worked just as they’d hoped. The Mirage fled into an area of densely packed debris and the Chanok ship had pursued. But as it was, the meteoroids would make it impossible for them to manoeuvre. At which point the Stallion pounced. As Lieutenant Llewellyn-Smyth moved the shuttle out from its hiding place, Tyler had opened fire with their phasers and micro-torpedoes. For such a small ship, the Star Stallions packed a big punch.
At first, they had the element of surprise and he was able to batter their starboard shields with their barrage. But as soon as their edge was gone and the Chanok opened fire, whilst reversing back out into a more open region, he could only take shots when Llewellyn-Smyth got them into a firing position—not an easy feat when avoiding multiple phaser banks and torpedo launchers.
At the Academy, Tyler had read over what information they had on the Chanok (just as he had done on the Tholians, Romulans, Borg, Talarians and numerous other hostile races), but all of that was over a century old. He had never expected to come across the savage and unpredictable species in his lifetime, and was trying to recall what he could on their tactics. Unfortunately what they had wasn’t much, decades out of date, and didn’t include anything about how they would fight in a dense asteroid belt.
Llewellyn-Smyth slammed them into a spin as she avoided yet another torpedo, and Tyler felt his stomach sink again, quickly followed by the sense of nausea. She had kept the inertial dampeners at a low level to make the Stallion more responsive, but it meant that the crew inside felt every little movement. He breathed through the queasiness and launched another micro-torpedo at the target. He had to admit that the Lieutenant’s skill at the controls was unlike anyone’s he had ever seen—even the best pilot in his class couldn’t compare to Llewellyn-Smyth’s finesse.
She pushed the Stallion forward, towards the Chanok ship. Her movements were slight, but enough to keep them from being hit. Tyler saw on the sensors that it was close on occasion, but not enough to affect their shields. Behind them in full body armour, Commander Amorin had readied the transporters and was scanning for a beam-in site.
Tyler glanced at his readouts and saw that the Mirage had moved behind their pre-arranged shelter—a large stationary boulder, filled with dense metals which interfered with sensors.
“The Mirage is clear sir,” he reported for Amorin’s benefit, though he didn’t take his eyes away from the controls, taking several more quick shots at the Chanok vessel.
“Understood Ensign,” the Benzenite XO replied, before cursing under the hiss of the breather mask. “Their internal architecture is unlike any I’ve seen before. I can’t locate their bridge.”
Tyler felt a cold shiver creep down his spine. If they couldn’t find the bridge for the team to beam into and secure the hostile ship, their attack would useless. There was only so long they could evade the continuous disruptor blasts and torpedoes—even with someone as good as Llewellyn-Smyth at the controls.
“Do we fall back?” Tyler asked.
“We’re dead if we do Ensign,” Amorin replied. “I’m scanning for their warp core. We can beam into the engine room and seize control from their.” He worked for a moment longer before his console gave an affirmative chirp. “I’ve got a matter/antimatter power signature, and locking co-ordinates. Tyler, lock on and prepare for transport. Harriet, get us into their shield bubble,” he ordered moving to join the four security specialists.
“We’ll be within their shields in twelve seconds,” Llewellyn-Smyth stated, pitching the ship to port and accelerating.
Tyler got the transporters ready whilst also continuing their attack with the Stallions forward phasers. He locked onto the five unique lifesigns in the midship compartment, boosted power to the annular confinement beam and pattern buffer and stood ready to energise the moment they were in position.
Llewellyn-Smyth was as good as her word, and in just under twelve seconds she punched the Stallion through the shielding of the Chanok ship. It was a rough ride, with their own shields taking a beating, but they were in position and their extreme proximity to the alien ship would render their targeting array next thing to useless and would limit them to phasers only—a torpedo detonation at close range would cause as much damage to the Chanok as it would to the Stallion.
Once inside the shield perimeter, he ran a quick scan and saw that they were relatively safe for the time being. “In position Lieutenant,” he told her as she brought them in closer to the dark crimson hull.
“Drop shields and energise Ensign,” the Conn Officer ordered.
With the tap of a single control he lowered their shields, and then activated the transporters. Behind them came the familiar hum of the transporter and he monitored the process, as the boarding team dematerialised, their patterns going through the buffer and then sent along the ACB, before materialising at the co-ordinates Amorin had specified. The process took seven seconds, and as soon as he had their lifesigns on the Chanok ship he raised their shields once again. The transporters targeting scanners kept a lock on the combadges of all five members, and he stood ready to retrieve them in case anything went wrong.
He cast a sideways glance at the pilot, and saw that Harriet was biting her bottom lip, her brow furled. In the two months he’d been onboard the Silverfin he had never seen her nervous—it reinforced what he already knew; things could go very badly very quickly.
***
Engineering Section, Chanok Striker Gzek’ta
Argaya System
Their assault on the Chanok ship had gone as he had expected it, but with Llewellyn-Smyth and Tyler at the controls he hadn’t expected anything else. Now was the time for his part in the harebrained plan he had devised.
As soon as the transporter released them the first thing that registered was the heat—at least thirty degrees (but coming from a planet with little atmosphere he was used to a much cooler environment). The second thing he noticed were two humanoids half way down the corridor he stood at the end of. His phaser carbine already raised, he got off two shots in quick succession and the crewmembers crumpled to the deck. Behind he heard three other shots fired. His scans onboard the Stallion showed that the engine room itself was heavily shielded, so he had chosen a beam-in site as close to it as he could, and opted for a four-way intersection.
“Clear,” he stated. Quickly followed by the same pronouncement from Syva, Mycroft and Blue. Crewman Drim stood at the centre of the group, sweeping the area with his combat scanner—a device they all wore strapped to their forearm.
“There are four other lifesigns in close proximity,” he reported, gesturing in the direction Syva and Mycroft faced, “two in each direction. The warp core is thirty-eight-point-six meters that way,” he added, gesturing down the corridor Amorin faced.
Before he could issue any orders, a groaning klaxon filled the corridors. An intruder alert? That was faster that I’d expected, he noted. He had been relying on the element of surprise once again to get them to engineering and take control of the ship. But that wasn’t to be. He looked at Syva.
“Let’s move out Master Chief.”
She gave a curt nod. “Tactical formation Beta,” she ordered coolly, utilising the combat manoeuvres she had devised and drilled into every member of her staff, as well as all the officers and most of the long-serving non-coms on the Silverfin.
At her order, Mycroft moved ahead carbine raised and body poised, K8 Blue was close behind. Amorin followed on, with Drim behind him and Syva at the rear. They moved steadily and efficiently, staying close to alcoves and partitions they could use for cover if needed. Amorin could feel the adrenaline surge through his system, but experience and training tempered it. He noted that both Blue and Drim were doing a fine job of keeping on top of their feelings, given that they were the rookies on the team. Had Syva not been Chief of the Boat, he would have felt wary about having a couple of untried and untested crewmen on a mission such as this. But the Vulcan Master Chief drilled her people hard from the day they stepped foot onboard, making sure that they were capable of facing anything that was thrown at them.
They had only gone twelve or so meters when Amorin’s natural echolocation alerted him to the approaching soldiers, a half-second before the combat scanners registered the twenty-two lifeforms coming at them for all directions.
“Take cover,” Syva ordered, spinning back the way they had come and moving to what shelter she could find. Amorin and the others followed suit, he ducked into an alcove and aimed his weapon in the direction they had been heading. Less than five minutes onboard, they hadn’t even covered a third of the distance to their target, let alone securing the engine room and then the rest of the ship, and they now faced odds of four-to-one, against an enemy whose capabilities they didn’t know in an arena that was very alien to them.
Things were looking bad.
“Here they come,” yelled Mycroft, before the screech of phaser fire filled the corridor.
***
Tactical Centre, Chanok Striker Gzek’ta
Argaya System
“Mistress, we have a security breach in the engineering section. Five lifesigns; Human, Vulcan, Bolian and two others I cannot identify,” stated Zaks’ky from the Scanner station (from which the body of the previous operator had since been removed).
Verr’ja hit the comunit on armrest of her chair. “Sub-Jahr Than’ok, we have intruders in the engineering section. Eliminate them.”
“It shall be done Mistress,” came the Senior Guardsman’s swift reply.
She turned her attention to Vret’ez. “Ordnance Officer, what about that shuttle?”
“They are still within the perimeter of the defence grid Mistress. I cannot acquire weapons lock at this range,” he told her, his head bowed low.
Vret’ez was one of the best officers on the Gzek’ta, not an incompetent trixit like Ysot’la had been. She didn’t relish the idea of having to find another efficient gunner, but that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t dispose of him as well if he failed again.
Since the Starfleet shuttle had punched through their defence grid they hadn’t fired on them, no doubt they wanted to keep their board team safe. It was a weakness Starfleet had had before the Chanok turned its back on the fragile empire, and it looked like they hadn’t outgrown their compassion. But then again, compassionate people always had one fatal flaw.
A sinister grin spread across her bronze face. “Charge the plasma cannons again. Lock onto all the asteroids that could conceal the Mirage. Obliterate them,” she ordered calmly. She looked down at her Second-in-Command. “The Starfleet ship won’t expose itself needlessly. But if we threaten a civilian ship, they will move to take action.”
Zaks’ky bowed his head slightly. “Very cunning Mistress, using their weakness against them.”
Pleased that her Second-in-Command knew his place, she looked back at the Ordnance Officer. “Have all pulse batteries at maximum and ready the targeting array.”
“Pulse batteries online. Plasma cannons fully charged and targets acquired.”
“Fire.”
***
Star Stallion 2
Argaya System
If the Stallion were any closer to the Chanok ship she would be sitting on its hull. However, even given their extreme proximity the larger ship still took the occasional shot at them. Each one missed, her targeting systems and phaser emplacements not designed to take out a ship within its own shield geometry. But they could have had attack fighters already en route to engage them so she kept a close eye on the sensors, one hand on the joystick and the other close to the impulse power control.
As tense as Llewellyn-Smyth found it simply waiting in the eye of the hurricane, within the enemy ship the boarding team had met with considerable resistance. Amorin had ordered them only to retrieve the team if they sent an emergency signal, and so far no such signal had been sent. Tyler kept monitoring their progress—what little they had made—so she was the one that noticed the spike in energy readings.
Before she could say anything however, the ship unleashed two enormous pulses of energy from the two large emitters at the front of the ship—a design feature she had though of as deflector dishes. The Stallions sensors catalogued the energy and identified it as massive blasts of plasma, with the same destructive yield as three quantum torpedoes. Each blast slammed into a different meteoroid, the smallest on par with a Miranda-Class ship, and decimated them. According to the sensors none of the remains were larger than that of Workbee, with most of the rock being turned into dust.
“Those bastards,” she hissed. “They’re goading us, so that we’ll move out and into their targeting range.”
Tyler was now looking at the same readings she was. “It won’t take them long to find the Mirage. We have to do something Lieutenant.”
Llewellyn-Smyth looked at the readouts. They were charging for another volley. There was no telling where they would target next, but there were only so many asteroids that could hide the small transport. The hunk of rock they were hiding behind not only prevented other ships sensors from picking them up, but prevented them from picking up anything as well. The Mirage would have no way of knowing what was coming their way.
“Ensign, could you arm the micro-torpedoes but then deploy them like mines?”
“Yes sir, but we’d still have to be beyond minimum safe distance when then detonated.”
“Let me worry about that. Ready the torpedoes and charge the phasers,” she instructed, as she readied the impulse engines and familiarised herself with the design of the unsightly Chanok ship.
It took a few moments, but Tyler reported, “Torpedoes ready and phasers fully charged.”
“We’re going to take out those forward weapon ports,” she told him, powering the thrusters and moving towards the front of the ship. She made sure to stay close to the hull, so as to keep from presenting the Chanok with a target, dodging the multiple phaser emitters that adorned the warship.
As they neared the front of the ship two more bolts of plasma were released, and two more chunks of rock were reduced to little more than dust. As powerful as the plasma weapons were they appeared to need several minutes to recharge and fire again, which made what she was about to do slightly less crazy.
“Engaging attack pattern theta, release the torpedoes on my command,” she said, and then swung the Stallion down towards the two glowing weapon turrets. The Chanok opened fire on them once again, but she kept the Stallion out of the kill zone and pressed on towards the energy cannons.
She pitched the ship so that the micro-torpedo launcher was aimed at their twin targets, which glowed brighter with each passing second. “Now!” she ordered, pushing the shuttle towards the cannons—their increased momentum would help the torpedoes drift into the crimson hull of the enemy ship.
Tyler launched the eight micro-torpedoes they had left. They headed straight for the two heavy weapon ports, the Stallion only just ahead of them. Once the launchers were empty she hit the impulse control and the ship lurched forward. She ducked under the ventral hull and accelerated towards the rear of the ship, using the jutting structures across the hull to offer them a degree of protect.
Behind them the micro-torpedoes reached their target, and exploded on contact with the hull. Though the micro-torpedoes were nowhere near as powerful as their full-sized counterparts, their matter/antimatter annihilation still produced a big enough punch to take out one of the forward cannons and damage the second. Despite her best effort, the resulting shockwave caught the Stallion and buffeted them off of course.
Screaming alarms filled the cockpit.
“We’ve been thrown out of their shield grid. We are in their targeting range!” reported Tyler, his voice tight.
“Impulse engines are offline, switching to full thrusters,” she stated just as the first volley of torpedoes were incoming.
***
Chapter 12 (cont)
Engineering Section, Chanok Striker Gzek’ta
Argaya System
The Chanok ship was buffeted hard. Syva had been through more than enough shipboard battles to know a torpedo strike when she felt it. The Stallion must have resumed their attack for some reason—no doubt something serious before Lieutenant Llewellyn-Smyth would risk firing micro-torpedoes.
Their own situation was proving to be dire. In addition to the twenty-two original guards, another seventeen had joined them. All escape routes were cut off and they hadn’t been able to make any substantial progress.
She peeked out from her cover, fired off another quick succession of phaser pulses, before ducking back behind the partition she was hiding behind. On the opposite side of the corridor, Crewman Drim and Commander Amorin were in an alcove. The Bolian was propped up against the bulkhead, blue blood soaking the left right arm of his uniform. A Chanok phaser blast had scorched right through his body armour, through the skin, muscle and bone, then out the other side. Had it hit him in the chest it would have proved fatal, but to all intents and purposes they were one man down. Further up the corridor Mycroft and Blue continued to hold the enemy at bay, but could do no more than that.
She hit her combadge. “Commander, we must withdraw. This stalemate will not achieve anything. The longer we remain pinned here the greater the likelihood we will sustain other casualties.”
“Do you have any stun grenades?” he asked, clearly not willing to give up until all options had been exhausted.
“I issued Mycroft and Drim with two each. However, their ranks are steadily increasing; four grenades will not be enough to subdue them all. It would also leave us with a fire-fight when we reached the engine room as well, and you know how dangerous that can be.”
“Some is better than none Master Chief. Right now, we have to thin their numbers. We’ll worry about the engine room when we get there.”
“Understood Commander,” she tapped her combadge again and opened a new link to Crewman Mycroft, then instructed him what to do. Across the corridor, she saw Amorin take one of the grenades from the back of Drim’s equipment belt, prime it and move into position to throw. She cast a quick look at Mycroft and saw him do the same.
Before either of them threw, she and Crewman Blue ducked out again and opened fire, drawing the Chanok’s attention for a few critical seconds. Amorin and Mycroft tossed the stun grenades in opposite directions, into the throng of Chanok guards—most were copper in colouring wearing simple but grimy brown coveralls, though there were a few brass coloured individuals as well who were better dressed in dark grey leather.
Instinctively, the Starfleeters ducked back into their shelter. Seconds later there was a loud throbbing noise, like a single heartbeat, followed by the sound of bodies hitting the hard metal deck.
Syva swung out into the corridor, her eyes sharp, carbine raised and took out a few of the guards that were still clinging to consciousness and the others that had been out of the blast radius.
“Move,” she instructed, once again covering the teams rear. Ahead of them, Blue and Mycroft would be clearing their way forward. Amorin helped Drim to his feet and supported his weight as they moved, the young Bolian looked as though he were about to pass out from the pain. She herself had sustained a similar injured when she was with Vulcan Security, and even with her high pain threshold and tolerance it had been one of the most agonising times in her life—a close second to the one hundred and thirteen hours of labour she had endured.
She fired off several more rounds, as she steadily moved back towards the rest of the team, the tactical scanner on her forearm showing their position and the location of conscious Chanok relative to herself. She kept up a steady spread of phaser fire, so as to keep the guards pinned down long enough for the others to get clear.
Her scanner showed that the others had rounded the corner, which was clear for the time being. When she reached the corner, she aimed at the exposed pipes that spanned ceiling close to where she had taken cover—a quick scan when they had been pinned down had shown that they were filled with a type of coolant.
Adjusting her phaser carbine to a higher setting she hit the pipes. They ruptured and greenish-yellow coolant spewed into the corridor, cutting the boarding team off from the Chanok. She set her phaser back to full stun and headed after the rest of the team, knowing that her ploy would only buy them a few minutes, before either the coolant flow was rerouted or the guards were.
The new corridor took them straight to the engine room, though there were a few passages that split off and went in other directions, the door at the far end was their objective. Ahead of her she noted that either Mycroft or Blue secured an adjoining corridor as the other moved forward, until Amorin and Drim was by it, and then repeated the action. She was close behind and made sure that no one was coming at them from another direction.
Her combat scanner showed that the Chanok forces were mustering again and were coming around the coolant rupture, whilst another contingent was also steadily approaching. Amorin reached the door and rested the now unconscious Drim against the bulkhead, and then tried the door panel. She arrived just as he was running his combat scanner over the wall panels and shaking his helmeted head.
“Problem Commander?” she asked.
“They’ve erected a forcefield. I’ve got to try and find either its power source or emitter array before we can get inside.”
She nodded and left him to his task. “Cover the Commander,” she instructed the two standing guards and then moved to check on Drim. From the medkit at the small of her back she pulled out a medical tricorder and ran it over his ruined shoulder. He would need immediate medical treatment onboard the Siverfin if he were to retain the use of him right arm. She took out the hypospray and a battlefield capsule—a mixture of drugs to numb pain, prevent infection and stop bleeding—and after applying it to the Bolian she did what she could to bind his shoulder and immobilise his arm.
“Master Chief, we have incoming,” called Mycroft.
Syva looked at Amorin. He had pried off a panel and was digging around among the various conduits and circuits and wiring, looking for what he needed to get them inside. Then she approached her two remaining guards, wiping Drim’s blood on her trouser legs, before gripping her stocky rifle once again.
“We hold this position, protect the XO,” she told them in no uncertain terms.
“Aye sir,” they both replied quietly, and they assumed a firing position.
Her combat scanner told her there were eighteen Chanok heading toward them, and they would be a little more cautious this time. They could have brought explosives of their own. When they entered her field of vision she gripped the handles of the carbine tighter. Beside her, she could feel the growing nerves in both Mycroft and Blue.
But before a single shot had been fired the Chanok ship lurched hard to port, throwing everyone off balance. It was another torpedo strike, but one far more powerful that the Stallion could deliver. Another ship was attacking the warship.
***
Engineering Section, Chanok Striker Gzek’ta
Argaya System
The Chanok ship was buffeted hard. Syva had been through more than enough shipboard battles to know a torpedo strike when she felt it. The Stallion must have resumed their attack for some reason—no doubt something serious before Lieutenant Llewellyn-Smyth would risk firing micro-torpedoes.
Their own situation was proving to be dire. In addition to the twenty-two original guards, another seventeen had joined them. All escape routes were cut off and they hadn’t been able to make any substantial progress.
She peeked out from her cover, fired off another quick succession of phaser pulses, before ducking back behind the partition she was hiding behind. On the opposite side of the corridor, Crewman Drim and Commander Amorin were in an alcove. The Bolian was propped up against the bulkhead, blue blood soaking the left right arm of his uniform. A Chanok phaser blast had scorched right through his body armour, through the skin, muscle and bone, then out the other side. Had it hit him in the chest it would have proved fatal, but to all intents and purposes they were one man down. Further up the corridor Mycroft and Blue continued to hold the enemy at bay, but could do no more than that.
She hit her combadge. “Commander, we must withdraw. This stalemate will not achieve anything. The longer we remain pinned here the greater the likelihood we will sustain other casualties.”
“Do you have any stun grenades?” he asked, clearly not willing to give up until all options had been exhausted.
“I issued Mycroft and Drim with two each. However, their ranks are steadily increasing; four grenades will not be enough to subdue them all. It would also leave us with a fire-fight when we reached the engine room as well, and you know how dangerous that can be.”
“Some is better than none Master Chief. Right now, we have to thin their numbers. We’ll worry about the engine room when we get there.”
“Understood Commander,” she tapped her combadge again and opened a new link to Crewman Mycroft, then instructed him what to do. Across the corridor, she saw Amorin take one of the grenades from the back of Drim’s equipment belt, prime it and move into position to throw. She cast a quick look at Mycroft and saw him do the same.
Before either of them threw, she and Crewman Blue ducked out again and opened fire, drawing the Chanok’s attention for a few critical seconds. Amorin and Mycroft tossed the stun grenades in opposite directions, into the throng of Chanok guards—most were copper in colouring wearing simple but grimy brown coveralls, though there were a few brass coloured individuals as well who were better dressed in dark grey leather.
Instinctively, the Starfleeters ducked back into their shelter. Seconds later there was a loud throbbing noise, like a single heartbeat, followed by the sound of bodies hitting the hard metal deck.
Syva swung out into the corridor, her eyes sharp, carbine raised and took out a few of the guards that were still clinging to consciousness and the others that had been out of the blast radius.
“Move,” she instructed, once again covering the teams rear. Ahead of them, Blue and Mycroft would be clearing their way forward. Amorin helped Drim to his feet and supported his weight as they moved, the young Bolian looked as though he were about to pass out from the pain. She herself had sustained a similar injured when she was with Vulcan Security, and even with her high pain threshold and tolerance it had been one of the most agonising times in her life—a close second to the one hundred and thirteen hours of labour she had endured.
She fired off several more rounds, as she steadily moved back towards the rest of the team, the tactical scanner on her forearm showing their position and the location of conscious Chanok relative to herself. She kept up a steady spread of phaser fire, so as to keep the guards pinned down long enough for the others to get clear.
Her scanner showed that the others had rounded the corner, which was clear for the time being. When she reached the corner, she aimed at the exposed pipes that spanned ceiling close to where she had taken cover—a quick scan when they had been pinned down had shown that they were filled with a type of coolant.
Adjusting her phaser carbine to a higher setting she hit the pipes. They ruptured and greenish-yellow coolant spewed into the corridor, cutting the boarding team off from the Chanok. She set her phaser back to full stun and headed after the rest of the team, knowing that her ploy would only buy them a few minutes, before either the coolant flow was rerouted or the guards were.
The new corridor took them straight to the engine room, though there were a few passages that split off and went in other directions, the door at the far end was their objective. Ahead of her she noted that either Mycroft or Blue secured an adjoining corridor as the other moved forward, until Amorin and Drim was by it, and then repeated the action. She was close behind and made sure that no one was coming at them from another direction.
Her combat scanner showed that the Chanok forces were mustering again and were coming around the coolant rupture, whilst another contingent was also steadily approaching. Amorin reached the door and rested the now unconscious Drim against the bulkhead, and then tried the door panel. She arrived just as he was running his combat scanner over the wall panels and shaking his helmeted head.
“Problem Commander?” she asked.
“They’ve erected a forcefield. I’ve got to try and find either its power source or emitter array before we can get inside.”
She nodded and left him to his task. “Cover the Commander,” she instructed the two standing guards and then moved to check on Drim. From the medkit at the small of her back she pulled out a medical tricorder and ran it over his ruined shoulder. He would need immediate medical treatment onboard the Siverfin if he were to retain the use of him right arm. She took out the hypospray and a battlefield capsule—a mixture of drugs to numb pain, prevent infection and stop bleeding—and after applying it to the Bolian she did what she could to bind his shoulder and immobilise his arm.
“Master Chief, we have incoming,” called Mycroft.
Syva looked at Amorin. He had pried off a panel and was digging around among the various conduits and circuits and wiring, looking for what he needed to get them inside. Then she approached her two remaining guards, wiping Drim’s blood on her trouser legs, before gripping her stocky rifle once again.
“We hold this position, protect the XO,” she told them in no uncertain terms.
“Aye sir,” they both replied quietly, and they assumed a firing position.
Her combat scanner told her there were eighteen Chanok heading toward them, and they would be a little more cautious this time. They could have brought explosives of their own. When they entered her field of vision she gripped the handles of the carbine tighter. Beside her, she could feel the growing nerves in both Mycroft and Blue.
But before a single shot had been fired the Chanok ship lurched hard to port, throwing everyone off balance. It was another torpedo strike, but one far more powerful that the Stallion could deliver. Another ship was attacking the warship.
***
Nice work, Bry. I can't wait to read what you post next. 
Chapter 13
Bridge, U.S.S. Silverfin NCC-4470
Argaya System
“Direct hit. Their shields are at sixty percent,” reported Petty Officer Johansson from Tactical.
“Sir, I have the Stallion. Their impulse engines are offline. They’re taking fire, shields down to fifty percent,” Lieutenant Innis quickly added looking into the sensor scope on his station.
Leijten looked down at the Edosian Conn Officer. “Jelx, move us into position. Johansson,” she called back to the Tactical Specialist, “take out their weapons array.” They both responded promptly and set about their assigned tasks.
On the viewscreen, Leijten studied the warship—that Innis had determined was likely of Chanok origin, not a species she had ever expected to have to deal with (why they were there was a mystery to her, but that was something to be dealt with after her people were safe). After the Silverfin’s navigation, sensors and communications systems had been repaired they had moved in to the Argaya System to assist the Stallion. Their progress had been slow, given the dust and debris and radiation fields that filled the system. But when Innis had detected weapons fire, they moved in.
They had entered a dense belt of radiation that scrambled their sensors, when they had stumbled across the battlefield. There was no sign of the Mirage, but in its place was perhaps the ugliest ship she had ever seen, dark crimson, covered in weapon ports and various fins and spikes that seemed arranged in a haphazard manner—their exact function she couldn’t even hazard a guess at. They had arrived in time to see the Stallion hit by a shockwave and flung out of the relative safety it had found close to the ship’s hull. As a volley of torpedoes headed for the shuttle, she watched as Llewellyn-Smyth evaded them.
Leijten had immediately order the Silverfin into the battle, but the radiation field they were in made targeting sensors useless. They could only fire once they cleared it, which she’d ordered as soon as they were in the clear. Four photon torpedoes slammed into the Chanok warship, which tried to swing around to face them. Though their ship was smaller than the cutter, they were nowhere near as manoeuvrable.
“Innis, condition of the Stallion?”
“They’ve got damage to their shields and impulse drive. The hull is intact,” he paused for a moment, scrutinising something. “Sir, there are only two human lifesigns on the Stallion.”
She looked over at him then back at the viewscreen. “Scan the Chanok ship.”
“Aye air,” he replied and set to work. A moment later he looked back up. “I’ve got human, Vulcan, Bolian, Nasat and Benzenite lifesigns close to their warp core. We’re still missing one Vulcan though.”
“Noted Lieutenant. Helga, concentrate fire on their weapons only. I don’t want to put our people in danger.”
“Aye sir,” the petty officer replied. “Incoming torpedoes.”
The Silverfin rocked under the impact. They weren’t the strongest torpedoes she had ever felt, but she wasn’t about to give them time to try out their full arsenal on her ship. “Attack pattern gamma. Fire at will.”
Jelx and Johansson executed a perfect tactical manoeuvre, which took out numerous phaser nodes and torpedo launchers across the warship, as the Silverfin effortlessly pivoted around the lumbering hostile vessel. She felt a brief surge of pride at the effective team the Beta Shift Conn and Tactical staff made, but working together for two years did that.
“Direct hit to their forward weapons array and ventral shield grid sir,” stated Innis, “both are going down.”
She tapped the intercom. “Leijten to Shizumi.”
“Go ahead Captain,” the Assistant Chief of Security replied.
“Chief ready boarding teams on the double.”
“I have four teams readied and waiting sir.”
She smiled to herself, reminded at just how good her crew were. “Standby Chief Shizumi.” She looked over at Innis. “Open a channel.”
“Open on all frequencies.”
“Chanok vessel. This is Captain Susanna Leijten of the Border Cutter Silverfin. I order you to stand down and prepare to be boarded.”
There was a moment’s pause. Before she could ask about any response, the Chanok opened fire with their aft phasers. They packed a punch on par with the Silverfin’s own Type-VIII banks.
“Innis, are their ventral shields still down?”
“Yes sir,” the Bajoran confirmed.
“Shizumi, go,” she ordered over the still-open commlink.
“Aye sir. Shizumi out.”
The Chanok fired on them again, but Johansson quickly returned fire. “Direct hit. They’ve lost aft weapons as well sir.”
“All four teams transporting now sir,” Innis added.
***
Engineering Section, Chanok Striker Gzek’ta
Argaya System
The panel Amorin had opened up was unlike anything else he had seen before. There didn’t seem to be anything that resembled an EPS relay or ODN processor or power tap or emitter circuit. Whoever designed this ship must’ve had the mental capacity of an infant. As he poked and tested everything inset into the bulkhead, behind him he heard the fierce exchange of phaser fire.
He knew that his plan to seize the Chanok ship would be dangerous, but alone in the debris field, with a civilian crew to protect and no clue when or even if the Silverfin would be repaired (not that he doubted th’Shaan’s ability, but from what he’d been able to ascertain before leaving, the damage was extensive to almost every circuit in the effected systems), he didn’t have many options. The Chanok had violated numerous interstellar laws, and had to be stopped. To him it was that simple.
From further down the corridor his Benzenite sixth sense detected a very familiar energy field, the kind produced by a Starfleet transporter. Seconds later, the corridor was filled with the sound of even heavier phaser fire. The Chanok guards became panicked as they suddenly found themselves in a crossfire. Less than ten seconds after the Silverfin’s boarding team beamed, and it was over.
Amorin looked back as the four-man team approached and saw that it was Petty Officer Henderson’s squad. The tall, sandy-haired, broad-shouldered non-com led security guards Willis, sh’Thoris and Rohkaan towards the original boarding team. Amorin immediately noticed the ion lance the latter carried.
“Rohkaan, over here,” he ordered the Terrellian, who immediately complied.
Amorin and Rohkaan wrestled with the bulky piece of equipment that was designed to cut through heavily armoured hatches. It wasn’t subtle or quiet, but it was effective. Behind him Henderson briefed Syva to the security situation, to which Amorin listened into as well. The Silverfin had arrived on scene and disabled the weapons and ventral shields of the Chanok ship, then beamed over four teams to help seize the ship. The Stallion had apparently taken damage, but from what Henderson had heard, both Llewellyn-Smyth and Tyler were alright.
“The Silverfin will have transporter locks on all of us,” Syva stated and then stepped over to Drim. She tapped him combadge twice, activating his emergency signal. A moment later the Bolian guard dematerialised, back to the ship where we could be properly treated.
By the time he had gone, the ion lance was in place and they stepped back. He looked at Syva. “We’ll need at least five minutes to get through, and they’ll know we’re coming.”
“We’ll be ready Commander,” she told him, then directed her crew to resume defensive positions, issuing orders to Henderson, Blue, and Willis to be ready for immediate entry. They all acknowledged her and took their places, carbines raised, bodies tensed and ready.
Amorin hit the activation control for the ion lance, and the device screeched to life.
***
Tactical Centre, Chanok Striker Gzek’ta
Argaya System
“Status!” Verr’ja demanded.
The Tactical Centre was in chaos. Consoles flickered, small fires cracked, the smell of burning metal filled the room. The Intermediates that manned the Centre darted from place to place, trying to restore functions, shouting and arguing amongst themselves, none of them answering her though.
“STATUS!” she roared, rising to her feet, one hand on the pulser on her hip, ready to draw her weapon and get their attention by shooting the closest officer to her.
Her voice cut through all the others, and they fell silent.
It was Zaks’ky that spoke up first. “The Starfleet ship has crippled our weapons and our upper defence grid. They have transported over four boarding teams.”
“Where are the guardsmen?” she hissed.
“Most had been sent to deal with the first boarding team, and there has been no contact with them since the shuttle attacked us.”
“What about the damage they caused to the plasma cannons?”
Zaks’ky looked over to Ordnance Officer Vret’ez, and she followed his gaze. The experienced looked from the Second-in-Command up to her, his expression nervous. He knew that she wouldn’t like what he had to say.
“The shuttle destroyed the portside focusing emitter and pre-fire chamber and damaged the starboard power converter. It will take seventeen hours to repair the converter.”
Fury consumed her. What should have been an easy assignment had been plagued with incompetence, and her demonstration on Scanner Operator Ysot’la had done nothing to ensure that the rest of her crew did not fail. When they returned to Homeworld, she would make sure that every single incapable ox’rey onboard would face what they deserved. But for Vret’ez, he wouldn’t live that long.
She pulled the pulser from its holster and swung it towards the Sub-Kott that she had once thought so highly of. Her attention was so focused on Vret’ez, that she never saw the aft doors open, or the two small grey cylinders—the size of clenched fist—that were tossed into the Tactical Centre. All she was aware of was a loud thud and a flash of light before she lost consciousness.
Verr’ja slumped back into her chair on the upper level of the room, the pulser fell from her hand and clattered onto the deck as the four-man team from the Silverfin stepped in to secure the area.
***
Bridge, U.S.S. Silverfin NCC-4470
Argaya System
“Direct hit. Their shields are at sixty percent,” reported Petty Officer Johansson from Tactical.
“Sir, I have the Stallion. Their impulse engines are offline. They’re taking fire, shields down to fifty percent,” Lieutenant Innis quickly added looking into the sensor scope on his station.
Leijten looked down at the Edosian Conn Officer. “Jelx, move us into position. Johansson,” she called back to the Tactical Specialist, “take out their weapons array.” They both responded promptly and set about their assigned tasks.
On the viewscreen, Leijten studied the warship—that Innis had determined was likely of Chanok origin, not a species she had ever expected to have to deal with (why they were there was a mystery to her, but that was something to be dealt with after her people were safe). After the Silverfin’s navigation, sensors and communications systems had been repaired they had moved in to the Argaya System to assist the Stallion. Their progress had been slow, given the dust and debris and radiation fields that filled the system. But when Innis had detected weapons fire, they moved in.
They had entered a dense belt of radiation that scrambled their sensors, when they had stumbled across the battlefield. There was no sign of the Mirage, but in its place was perhaps the ugliest ship she had ever seen, dark crimson, covered in weapon ports and various fins and spikes that seemed arranged in a haphazard manner—their exact function she couldn’t even hazard a guess at. They had arrived in time to see the Stallion hit by a shockwave and flung out of the relative safety it had found close to the ship’s hull. As a volley of torpedoes headed for the shuttle, she watched as Llewellyn-Smyth evaded them.
Leijten had immediately order the Silverfin into the battle, but the radiation field they were in made targeting sensors useless. They could only fire once they cleared it, which she’d ordered as soon as they were in the clear. Four photon torpedoes slammed into the Chanok warship, which tried to swing around to face them. Though their ship was smaller than the cutter, they were nowhere near as manoeuvrable.
“Innis, condition of the Stallion?”
“They’ve got damage to their shields and impulse drive. The hull is intact,” he paused for a moment, scrutinising something. “Sir, there are only two human lifesigns on the Stallion.”
She looked over at him then back at the viewscreen. “Scan the Chanok ship.”
“Aye air,” he replied and set to work. A moment later he looked back up. “I’ve got human, Vulcan, Bolian, Nasat and Benzenite lifesigns close to their warp core. We’re still missing one Vulcan though.”
“Noted Lieutenant. Helga, concentrate fire on their weapons only. I don’t want to put our people in danger.”
“Aye sir,” the petty officer replied. “Incoming torpedoes.”
The Silverfin rocked under the impact. They weren’t the strongest torpedoes she had ever felt, but she wasn’t about to give them time to try out their full arsenal on her ship. “Attack pattern gamma. Fire at will.”
Jelx and Johansson executed a perfect tactical manoeuvre, which took out numerous phaser nodes and torpedo launchers across the warship, as the Silverfin effortlessly pivoted around the lumbering hostile vessel. She felt a brief surge of pride at the effective team the Beta Shift Conn and Tactical staff made, but working together for two years did that.
“Direct hit to their forward weapons array and ventral shield grid sir,” stated Innis, “both are going down.”
She tapped the intercom. “Leijten to Shizumi.”
“Go ahead Captain,” the Assistant Chief of Security replied.
“Chief ready boarding teams on the double.”
“I have four teams readied and waiting sir.”
She smiled to herself, reminded at just how good her crew were. “Standby Chief Shizumi.” She looked over at Innis. “Open a channel.”
“Open on all frequencies.”
“Chanok vessel. This is Captain Susanna Leijten of the Border Cutter Silverfin. I order you to stand down and prepare to be boarded.”
There was a moment’s pause. Before she could ask about any response, the Chanok opened fire with their aft phasers. They packed a punch on par with the Silverfin’s own Type-VIII banks.
“Innis, are their ventral shields still down?”
“Yes sir,” the Bajoran confirmed.
“Shizumi, go,” she ordered over the still-open commlink.
“Aye sir. Shizumi out.”
The Chanok fired on them again, but Johansson quickly returned fire. “Direct hit. They’ve lost aft weapons as well sir.”
“All four teams transporting now sir,” Innis added.
***
Engineering Section, Chanok Striker Gzek’ta
Argaya System
The panel Amorin had opened up was unlike anything else he had seen before. There didn’t seem to be anything that resembled an EPS relay or ODN processor or power tap or emitter circuit. Whoever designed this ship must’ve had the mental capacity of an infant. As he poked and tested everything inset into the bulkhead, behind him he heard the fierce exchange of phaser fire.
He knew that his plan to seize the Chanok ship would be dangerous, but alone in the debris field, with a civilian crew to protect and no clue when or even if the Silverfin would be repaired (not that he doubted th’Shaan’s ability, but from what he’d been able to ascertain before leaving, the damage was extensive to almost every circuit in the effected systems), he didn’t have many options. The Chanok had violated numerous interstellar laws, and had to be stopped. To him it was that simple.
From further down the corridor his Benzenite sixth sense detected a very familiar energy field, the kind produced by a Starfleet transporter. Seconds later, the corridor was filled with the sound of even heavier phaser fire. The Chanok guards became panicked as they suddenly found themselves in a crossfire. Less than ten seconds after the Silverfin’s boarding team beamed, and it was over.
Amorin looked back as the four-man team approached and saw that it was Petty Officer Henderson’s squad. The tall, sandy-haired, broad-shouldered non-com led security guards Willis, sh’Thoris and Rohkaan towards the original boarding team. Amorin immediately noticed the ion lance the latter carried.
“Rohkaan, over here,” he ordered the Terrellian, who immediately complied.
Amorin and Rohkaan wrestled with the bulky piece of equipment that was designed to cut through heavily armoured hatches. It wasn’t subtle or quiet, but it was effective. Behind him Henderson briefed Syva to the security situation, to which Amorin listened into as well. The Silverfin had arrived on scene and disabled the weapons and ventral shields of the Chanok ship, then beamed over four teams to help seize the ship. The Stallion had apparently taken damage, but from what Henderson had heard, both Llewellyn-Smyth and Tyler were alright.
“The Silverfin will have transporter locks on all of us,” Syva stated and then stepped over to Drim. She tapped him combadge twice, activating his emergency signal. A moment later the Bolian guard dematerialised, back to the ship where we could be properly treated.
By the time he had gone, the ion lance was in place and they stepped back. He looked at Syva. “We’ll need at least five minutes to get through, and they’ll know we’re coming.”
“We’ll be ready Commander,” she told him, then directed her crew to resume defensive positions, issuing orders to Henderson, Blue, and Willis to be ready for immediate entry. They all acknowledged her and took their places, carbines raised, bodies tensed and ready.
Amorin hit the activation control for the ion lance, and the device screeched to life.
***
Tactical Centre, Chanok Striker Gzek’ta
Argaya System
“Status!” Verr’ja demanded.
The Tactical Centre was in chaos. Consoles flickered, small fires cracked, the smell of burning metal filled the room. The Intermediates that manned the Centre darted from place to place, trying to restore functions, shouting and arguing amongst themselves, none of them answering her though.
“STATUS!” she roared, rising to her feet, one hand on the pulser on her hip, ready to draw her weapon and get their attention by shooting the closest officer to her.
Her voice cut through all the others, and they fell silent.
It was Zaks’ky that spoke up first. “The Starfleet ship has crippled our weapons and our upper defence grid. They have transported over four boarding teams.”
“Where are the guardsmen?” she hissed.
“Most had been sent to deal with the first boarding team, and there has been no contact with them since the shuttle attacked us.”
“What about the damage they caused to the plasma cannons?”
Zaks’ky looked over to Ordnance Officer Vret’ez, and she followed his gaze. The experienced looked from the Second-in-Command up to her, his expression nervous. He knew that she wouldn’t like what he had to say.
“The shuttle destroyed the portside focusing emitter and pre-fire chamber and damaged the starboard power converter. It will take seventeen hours to repair the converter.”
Fury consumed her. What should have been an easy assignment had been plagued with incompetence, and her demonstration on Scanner Operator Ysot’la had done nothing to ensure that the rest of her crew did not fail. When they returned to Homeworld, she would make sure that every single incapable ox’rey onboard would face what they deserved. But for Vret’ez, he wouldn’t live that long.
She pulled the pulser from its holster and swung it towards the Sub-Kott that she had once thought so highly of. Her attention was so focused on Vret’ez, that she never saw the aft doors open, or the two small grey cylinders—the size of clenched fist—that were tossed into the Tactical Centre. All she was aware of was a loud thud and a flash of light before she lost consciousness.
Verr’ja slumped back into her chair on the upper level of the room, the pulser fell from her hand and clattered onto the deck as the four-man team from the Silverfin stepped in to secure the area.
***
Chapter 14
Sickbay, U.S.S. Silverfin NCC-4470
Argaya System
Sickbay was filled to capacity. Both treatment wards held four recovery biobeds and a central diagnostics table, and every one of them was full. But the medical facilities had quietened down following the seizure of the Chanok ship, and rescuing the eighteen prisoners onboard the ship. All of them showed signs of malnutrition and abuse—both physical and mental. The most serious cases were being kept in for observation, whilst the others had been released to their temporary accommodation.
Nurse Jenka had been very impressed with the confident and compassionate way the corpsmen handled the former prisoners, a few of which were catatonic and didn’t even seem aware of the fact their torment had ended. These were the ones that occupied the biobeds, all of them strapped down securely on her order. There was no telling if they would become violent and try to hurt themselves or someone else, once they regained some perception of the world around them. Jenka had the basics of psychiatry under her belt, a requirement for nurses due to their considerable interaction with patients, but little beyond that. She had decided to sedate them to be on the safe side and consulted the EMH, which agreed with her assessment.
They were now resting comfortably. As was Crewman Nyk Drim, who had been seriously injured on the Chanok ship. The holo-doc had taken him into surgery and managed to save the young Bolian’s arm. It would take a several weeks of physiotherapy and treatment, but he would regain full usage of the limb. After he’d come out of surgery at least a third of the security force, including Master Chief Syva, had come in to check on him. All of them had been relieved at the good news—even Syva, though in a very Vulcan manner. Jenka was touched at their concern for their colleague, even though he was one of the newest guards onboard the Silverfin. Though she had been with the Border Service for two years, that time had been spent on Star Station Freedom. She hadn’t gotten to experience the camaraderie and bonds that developed when serving on a Cutter. Though the Silverfin wasn’t where she had hoped she would be, there were definitely worse places to spend a few weeks.
The doors to the ward opened, and she pushed all thoughts of her future and whether she’d ever make it onto the Medical Officer’s Advanced Training Programme. She looked at the entrance and saw two very familiar faces enter. One had been a patient up until a few hours ago and the other had been a worried family member, waiting by their bedside.
Jenka quickly moved to meet Rebecca Mellor and Ixaab Zoln at the entrance. “Is everything alright?” she asked, a look of concern etched on her veined face. Rebecca had been a captive of the Chanok for almost a month, but despite that she was in remarkably good shape. A few goody hearty meals and plenty of rest would see her through.
The human woman nodded, though her eyes never left the central biobed. “I’m fine thank you. I,” she paused, a pained look on her face, “I was just wondering about my father.” Beside her, the strapping Bolian wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her tight.
Jenka looked at the biobed on which Jeffery Mellor lay prone. Like the former prisoners, he too had been sedated and was resting peacefully. His condition was also uncertain. But whilst all the others had been trapped in a physical prison, his was entirely mental. Increasing levels of anxiety and stress on top of malnourishment and exhaustion, he had become so tightly wound that he had just snapped. For now, all Jenka could do was monitor his situation and hope that the medical staff on Freedom could be of more benefit.
To Rebecca and Ixaab she told that the only thing she could, “There’s been no change I’m afraid. He is resting comfortably and we will monitor him closely. If there’s any change I’ll contact you immediately.”
“Can I sit with him?” she asked, her voice soft.
Though out with visiting hours, the other patients were all sleeping and the corpsmen on duty were ensuring that everything was alright. Jenka nodded. “Of course,” she said and gestured toward the central table. The two civilians moved over and stood by his bedside, looking down at him, their body language spoke volumes about their feelings for one another and the man that lay before them.
Not wanting to intrude, Jenka slipped out of the ward and headed into the medlab to make a start on all the necessary paperwork. Though it was the kind of work that she could have easily done in the CMO’s office, she didn’t feel comfortable using Doctor Mbeki’s personal space for a job she could do just about anywhere else. She may have been covering sickbay in his absence, but she wasn’t a Chief Medical Officer.
Well not yet at least, a small hopeful voice said in the back of her mind. She smiled softly at the faint glimmer of optimism she secretly still held onto, and then focused on her work terminal and all the medical files that needed to be completed.
***
Captain’s Ready Room, U.S.S. Silverfin NCC-4470
Argaya System
It was getting late, very late. Usually at such an hour, Susanna Leijten was in her quarters either working on personal letters or hobbies, or already sound asleep. But the events of the day meant a lot of reports had to be filed, official logs submitted, communiqués from every admiral in range. The emergence of the Chanok after over a century of silence had a lot of people worried, especially after the Talarian Incursion almost a year ago—which the Silverfin had missed, as she had been undergoing an overhaul of their antimatter containment system (not the kind of job that could be rushed).
She had dealt with all of the questions as best she could, but they were still trying to find out the answers to many of them. The Chanok crew had been secured in their own brig, seeing as how there wasn’t enough room onboard the Silverfin for the ninety-six officers and crew. She had set up a rotation of personnel to stay on the warship—which they had learnt was called Gzek’ta, who had been one of the most notorious Chanok captain’s at the time the Federation had severed all ties with them—in order to guard the enemy crew and ensure their health and wellbeing.
With all the official work seen to, she was catching up on some of the smaller shipboard matters that had slipped. On top of the pile was a personnel report from Lieutenant th’Shaan on his newest addition, Ensign Feeznar. Something she found a little odd. Feeznar had graduated in September the year before, making him a classmate of Ensign Tyler, and had glowing letters of recommendation from a few of his professors. But she had heard of grumblings from engineering over the last few months, she just hadn’t expected it to be as bad as Elak reported it—poor performance, dereliction of assigned tasks, a detrimental effect of the other engineers. She wasn’t used to seeing such a report on one of the officers aboard the Silverfin, and made a note to follow up on it.
The enunciator sounded and she called for the doors to open. When they parted she looked up and saw Amorin step into her ready room. The looming Benzenite looked a as tired as she felt, but like her, he wasn’t one to rest until the job was done.
“Commander, I wasn’t expecting to see you up here at this time.”
He handed her a large PADD. “I thought you’d want to see my full after action report as soon as it was finished.”
She set down th’Shaan’s report and took the one her XO presented. Since his team had successfully gained control of the Chanok engineering section, he had been back and forth between it, the Silverfin and the Mirage. She had managed to catch a few words with him here and there, covering all the essentials of their mission into the Argaya System, catching up with the renegade transport, and then the encounter with the Chanok.
Though she was still waiting on reports from Llewellyn-Smyth, Tyler, Syva and the rest of the team, she had asked for them to be ready by 0900 tomorrow. Though she had no basis for comparison, she found Amorin’s report to be very self-critical. She paused in reading it and looked up at him.
As always, his breather mask and goggles made it hard to read his expression, though there was a slight quiver in his breathing tubes—a very subtle hint that he was anxious or unsettled.
“This is a little harsh isn’t it?”
“It is the truth Captain. Because of my actions the Stallion was badly damaged and Crewman Drim was severely injured. I could have waited for the Silverfin to arrive and formulated a plan that wasn’t quite so insane. The Stallion then wouldn’t need thirty hours of repair time and Mr Drim wouldn’t be facing weeks of rehabilitation.”
“I’ll admit, your plan was a little gung-ho, but you made a tough decision based on the information you had available to you. The Chanok couldn’t have been allowed to leave the system with their cargo, or get away with what they put the Mirage’s crew through, not to mention they violated the exclusion zone established when we cut all contact with them.
“As for the damages,” she continued setting the PADD down and giving him her full attention, “repair work has started on the Stallion, and Nurse Jenka informs me that Drim will be back on full-time duty in four to five weeks—and that his treatment can be carried out onboard. He’ll be restricted to light duties in the meantime. But he is still living, as are the crew of the Mirage and the eighteen prisoners we freed from the Chanok’s holding cells.”
“The ends outweigh the means then?”
“Not always. But given the risks involved and what was at stake, I’d say we got off lightly.”
He still didn’t look overly convinced. “Perhaps. But it just doesn’t make me feel any better sir. Drim is a good kid, and I get him injured.”
“He’s just like everyone else onboard Amorin. He knows the risks involved with wearing the uniform. But if you want to blame yourself for what happened, then I’ll assign you to the Stallion repair detail effective immediately.”
“I was planning on helping out anyway,” he told her.
Leijten smiled softly. “Amorin, I don’t see anything wrong in what you did. You took a gamble and it didn’t pan out quite the way you thought it would, but sometimes that happens—hell, it’s happened to me more than once. The thing to do now is pick yourself up, dust yourself off, remember this for the next time, and keep on going.”
The Benzenite standing before her seemed to give this advice some thought, just as she had done when it was given to her a few years ago—but if you were going to plagiarise, then you might as well do it from the best. After a moment he nodded his large head slightly and looked back at her.
“I will Captain. I just didn’t want you to feel that I acted needlessly, or without consideration of the consequences.”
“In the eight years we’ve served together I’ve never once thought that, so I’m not about to start now,” she told him with an encouraging smile, before it was broken by a yawn. “That’s it. I think I’ll have to call this a day now.”
“Agreed Captain.”
She returned the now cold mug of tea back to the replicator and then went to stand by her XO. “Tomorrow, I want Innis and Tyler to go through the Chanok database, to see what they can find out about their actions. I get the feeling that ship isn’t new to this region of space.”
“I’ll have them briefed and ready to beam out by 0915.”
“I don’t doubt it Commander,” she said as the doors opened onto the bridge. She switched the lights off and together they headed for the turbolift.
***
Tactical Centre, Chanok Striker Gzek’ta
Departing from the Argaya System
The bridge—or Tactical Centre to give it the Chanok title—of the alien ship was hot and stuffy. Vaguely circular in design, consoles surrounded the outer bulkheads whilst another row were freestanding and faced in towards what could only be described as a throne on a pedestal. Using the universal translator, they had been able to identify each console and what its basic functions were. But between two of the aft stations they had found something that looked very out of place, a bright white container roughly shaped like a Starfleet emergency comm relay—which, going by the description given by Commander Amorin, was what the Mirage had been carrying.
Aside from one small open panel on top of the container—how it had been opened he couldn’t even hazard a guess at—it was smooth and completely flawless. Two wires connected it with the two consoles it sat between, one labelled as Computer System Operation and the other as Intelligence Analysis. Innis sat at the former, whilst Tyler was running scans on the device itself.
He had been thrilled at the opportunity to work with Tyler on a smaller scale, but they had been studying the box and the consoles for an hour, and every avenue of conversation outside of their assigned task were quickly closed off by the younger man. Innis had since resolved himself to the fact that Tyler wasn’t one for small talk and focused on the computer screen. He decided at the earliest opportunity, he’d ask Harriet about the Tactical Officer—hopefully she wouldn’t catch on to him.
Focusing fully on the console once again, he tried another decryption algorithm in order to gain access to the Chanok computer banks. But just like the others it was rejected. He groaned at the fifteenth defeat he’d suffered since they started. Massaging the bridge of his ridged nose, which always grew tight when he was frustrated, he turned away from the console and leaned against it—since it didn’t have a chair he could sit on.
“This is probably the toughest system I’ve ever had to crack! The security lock outs at the Academy were a cakewalk compared to these!”
Tyler stopped scanning and scrutinised him. “You hacked the secure database at the Academy?”
Innis blushed and suddenly felt a little sheepish. “Well…yeah I did. Everyone said it couldn’t be done, so I just had to try it for myself. It’s not like I changed my grades or stole test papers. I just got into the server to test myself.”
“There was an urban rumour that went round when I was on campus about someone hacking the database, but we all though it was just someone being overly boastful. You really did that?”
“Wasn’t all that hard really. I just piggybacked on an active user interface into the system and…” he trailed off, the beginnings of an idea forming in his mind. He turned back to the station he was working on and quickly uploaded the same tracer programme he had used back at the Academy from his tricorder—after weeks of work developing it, he made sure that he always had the tracer with him.
“Ensign, see if you can find an active terminal interface. It doesn’t matter what it is, just as long as it’s still open and has an outstanding command input.”
Tyler didn’t ask any questions and followed his new order. He went between the consoles, checking each one. It was the fourth one he tried, that he called out, “Got one. It’s for Environmental Regulation.”
“Excellent. Give me a sec, I’ll link up with it,” he said as he worked his tricorder and the alien console. After a moment he had established a telemetry link between them. “Ok now, I want you to initiate that command—so long as it’s not going to kill us.”
He nodded and then tapped a stud. Immediately Innis’ tracer went to work, attaching itself to the active data stream and then into the central computer. From there it began to search for and unlock the encryptions from the inside out. Innis monitored the programme on his tricorder and its progress on the terminal, aware that Tyler had come back to join him and was looking over his shoulder at the results. Though more than aware of the humans’ proximity, Innis concentrated on the hack.
After less than five minutes, the tracer programme completed its task and the entire database was made available to them. “Yes!” he cheered, and set about checking the last series of commands and databases the console had been used to access. But after a few seconds he paused and looked back at Tyler.
“Eh, I hope you don’t mention my Academy antics in your report.”
There was the faintest hint of a smile on Tyler’s youthful face. “It’s best not to dwell on the past Lieutenant.”
“Glad to hear it Joe,” he replied and turned back to the screen, just as a large block of data appeared. Paused the scrolling readouts, he looked for the data’s origin, and was surprised to see that it had been downloaded from the white container. How could something so small have the same processing power as the computer on a Defiant-Class starship?
As he pondered the question, something caught his eye in the densely compressed data packet. He focused in on it and felt his eyes go wide. Ship names, classes, crews and capacities. Detailed maps of shipping lanes and freighter loads. Border Service patrol routes and communications protocols. Lists of codenames and scrambled subspace frequencies. Exchange rates and stock market data from across the Quadrant.
“I think we’ve just found who is at the centre of the increase smuggling operations along the border,” he said to Tyler, who had leaned in closer to read the masses of data. He tapped his combadge. “Innis to Leijten.”
“Go ahead Lieutenant.”
“Sir, we’ve just found something you’re not going to believe.”
***
Sickbay, U.S.S. Silverfin NCC-4470
Argaya System
Sickbay was filled to capacity. Both treatment wards held four recovery biobeds and a central diagnostics table, and every one of them was full. But the medical facilities had quietened down following the seizure of the Chanok ship, and rescuing the eighteen prisoners onboard the ship. All of them showed signs of malnutrition and abuse—both physical and mental. The most serious cases were being kept in for observation, whilst the others had been released to their temporary accommodation.
Nurse Jenka had been very impressed with the confident and compassionate way the corpsmen handled the former prisoners, a few of which were catatonic and didn’t even seem aware of the fact their torment had ended. These were the ones that occupied the biobeds, all of them strapped down securely on her order. There was no telling if they would become violent and try to hurt themselves or someone else, once they regained some perception of the world around them. Jenka had the basics of psychiatry under her belt, a requirement for nurses due to their considerable interaction with patients, but little beyond that. She had decided to sedate them to be on the safe side and consulted the EMH, which agreed with her assessment.
They were now resting comfortably. As was Crewman Nyk Drim, who had been seriously injured on the Chanok ship. The holo-doc had taken him into surgery and managed to save the young Bolian’s arm. It would take a several weeks of physiotherapy and treatment, but he would regain full usage of the limb. After he’d come out of surgery at least a third of the security force, including Master Chief Syva, had come in to check on him. All of them had been relieved at the good news—even Syva, though in a very Vulcan manner. Jenka was touched at their concern for their colleague, even though he was one of the newest guards onboard the Silverfin. Though she had been with the Border Service for two years, that time had been spent on Star Station Freedom. She hadn’t gotten to experience the camaraderie and bonds that developed when serving on a Cutter. Though the Silverfin wasn’t where she had hoped she would be, there were definitely worse places to spend a few weeks.
The doors to the ward opened, and she pushed all thoughts of her future and whether she’d ever make it onto the Medical Officer’s Advanced Training Programme. She looked at the entrance and saw two very familiar faces enter. One had been a patient up until a few hours ago and the other had been a worried family member, waiting by their bedside.
Jenka quickly moved to meet Rebecca Mellor and Ixaab Zoln at the entrance. “Is everything alright?” she asked, a look of concern etched on her veined face. Rebecca had been a captive of the Chanok for almost a month, but despite that she was in remarkably good shape. A few goody hearty meals and plenty of rest would see her through.
The human woman nodded, though her eyes never left the central biobed. “I’m fine thank you. I,” she paused, a pained look on her face, “I was just wondering about my father.” Beside her, the strapping Bolian wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her tight.
Jenka looked at the biobed on which Jeffery Mellor lay prone. Like the former prisoners, he too had been sedated and was resting peacefully. His condition was also uncertain. But whilst all the others had been trapped in a physical prison, his was entirely mental. Increasing levels of anxiety and stress on top of malnourishment and exhaustion, he had become so tightly wound that he had just snapped. For now, all Jenka could do was monitor his situation and hope that the medical staff on Freedom could be of more benefit.
To Rebecca and Ixaab she told that the only thing she could, “There’s been no change I’m afraid. He is resting comfortably and we will monitor him closely. If there’s any change I’ll contact you immediately.”
“Can I sit with him?” she asked, her voice soft.
Though out with visiting hours, the other patients were all sleeping and the corpsmen on duty were ensuring that everything was alright. Jenka nodded. “Of course,” she said and gestured toward the central table. The two civilians moved over and stood by his bedside, looking down at him, their body language spoke volumes about their feelings for one another and the man that lay before them.
Not wanting to intrude, Jenka slipped out of the ward and headed into the medlab to make a start on all the necessary paperwork. Though it was the kind of work that she could have easily done in the CMO’s office, she didn’t feel comfortable using Doctor Mbeki’s personal space for a job she could do just about anywhere else. She may have been covering sickbay in his absence, but she wasn’t a Chief Medical Officer.
Well not yet at least, a small hopeful voice said in the back of her mind. She smiled softly at the faint glimmer of optimism she secretly still held onto, and then focused on her work terminal and all the medical files that needed to be completed.
***
Captain’s Ready Room, U.S.S. Silverfin NCC-4470
Argaya System
It was getting late, very late. Usually at such an hour, Susanna Leijten was in her quarters either working on personal letters or hobbies, or already sound asleep. But the events of the day meant a lot of reports had to be filed, official logs submitted, communiqués from every admiral in range. The emergence of the Chanok after over a century of silence had a lot of people worried, especially after the Talarian Incursion almost a year ago—which the Silverfin had missed, as she had been undergoing an overhaul of their antimatter containment system (not the kind of job that could be rushed).
She had dealt with all of the questions as best she could, but they were still trying to find out the answers to many of them. The Chanok crew had been secured in their own brig, seeing as how there wasn’t enough room onboard the Silverfin for the ninety-six officers and crew. She had set up a rotation of personnel to stay on the warship—which they had learnt was called Gzek’ta, who had been one of the most notorious Chanok captain’s at the time the Federation had severed all ties with them—in order to guard the enemy crew and ensure their health and wellbeing.
With all the official work seen to, she was catching up on some of the smaller shipboard matters that had slipped. On top of the pile was a personnel report from Lieutenant th’Shaan on his newest addition, Ensign Feeznar. Something she found a little odd. Feeznar had graduated in September the year before, making him a classmate of Ensign Tyler, and had glowing letters of recommendation from a few of his professors. But she had heard of grumblings from engineering over the last few months, she just hadn’t expected it to be as bad as Elak reported it—poor performance, dereliction of assigned tasks, a detrimental effect of the other engineers. She wasn’t used to seeing such a report on one of the officers aboard the Silverfin, and made a note to follow up on it.
The enunciator sounded and she called for the doors to open. When they parted she looked up and saw Amorin step into her ready room. The looming Benzenite looked a as tired as she felt, but like her, he wasn’t one to rest until the job was done.
“Commander, I wasn’t expecting to see you up here at this time.”
He handed her a large PADD. “I thought you’d want to see my full after action report as soon as it was finished.”
She set down th’Shaan’s report and took the one her XO presented. Since his team had successfully gained control of the Chanok engineering section, he had been back and forth between it, the Silverfin and the Mirage. She had managed to catch a few words with him here and there, covering all the essentials of their mission into the Argaya System, catching up with the renegade transport, and then the encounter with the Chanok.
Though she was still waiting on reports from Llewellyn-Smyth, Tyler, Syva and the rest of the team, she had asked for them to be ready by 0900 tomorrow. Though she had no basis for comparison, she found Amorin’s report to be very self-critical. She paused in reading it and looked up at him.
As always, his breather mask and goggles made it hard to read his expression, though there was a slight quiver in his breathing tubes—a very subtle hint that he was anxious or unsettled.
“This is a little harsh isn’t it?”
“It is the truth Captain. Because of my actions the Stallion was badly damaged and Crewman Drim was severely injured. I could have waited for the Silverfin to arrive and formulated a plan that wasn’t quite so insane. The Stallion then wouldn’t need thirty hours of repair time and Mr Drim wouldn’t be facing weeks of rehabilitation.”
“I’ll admit, your plan was a little gung-ho, but you made a tough decision based on the information you had available to you. The Chanok couldn’t have been allowed to leave the system with their cargo, or get away with what they put the Mirage’s crew through, not to mention they violated the exclusion zone established when we cut all contact with them.
“As for the damages,” she continued setting the PADD down and giving him her full attention, “repair work has started on the Stallion, and Nurse Jenka informs me that Drim will be back on full-time duty in four to five weeks—and that his treatment can be carried out onboard. He’ll be restricted to light duties in the meantime. But he is still living, as are the crew of the Mirage and the eighteen prisoners we freed from the Chanok’s holding cells.”
“The ends outweigh the means then?”
“Not always. But given the risks involved and what was at stake, I’d say we got off lightly.”
He still didn’t look overly convinced. “Perhaps. But it just doesn’t make me feel any better sir. Drim is a good kid, and I get him injured.”
“He’s just like everyone else onboard Amorin. He knows the risks involved with wearing the uniform. But if you want to blame yourself for what happened, then I’ll assign you to the Stallion repair detail effective immediately.”
“I was planning on helping out anyway,” he told her.
Leijten smiled softly. “Amorin, I don’t see anything wrong in what you did. You took a gamble and it didn’t pan out quite the way you thought it would, but sometimes that happens—hell, it’s happened to me more than once. The thing to do now is pick yourself up, dust yourself off, remember this for the next time, and keep on going.”
The Benzenite standing before her seemed to give this advice some thought, just as she had done when it was given to her a few years ago—but if you were going to plagiarise, then you might as well do it from the best. After a moment he nodded his large head slightly and looked back at her.
“I will Captain. I just didn’t want you to feel that I acted needlessly, or without consideration of the consequences.”
“In the eight years we’ve served together I’ve never once thought that, so I’m not about to start now,” she told him with an encouraging smile, before it was broken by a yawn. “That’s it. I think I’ll have to call this a day now.”
“Agreed Captain.”
She returned the now cold mug of tea back to the replicator and then went to stand by her XO. “Tomorrow, I want Innis and Tyler to go through the Chanok database, to see what they can find out about their actions. I get the feeling that ship isn’t new to this region of space.”
“I’ll have them briefed and ready to beam out by 0915.”
“I don’t doubt it Commander,” she said as the doors opened onto the bridge. She switched the lights off and together they headed for the turbolift.
***
Tactical Centre, Chanok Striker Gzek’ta
Departing from the Argaya System
The bridge—or Tactical Centre to give it the Chanok title—of the alien ship was hot and stuffy. Vaguely circular in design, consoles surrounded the outer bulkheads whilst another row were freestanding and faced in towards what could only be described as a throne on a pedestal. Using the universal translator, they had been able to identify each console and what its basic functions were. But between two of the aft stations they had found something that looked very out of place, a bright white container roughly shaped like a Starfleet emergency comm relay—which, going by the description given by Commander Amorin, was what the Mirage had been carrying.
Aside from one small open panel on top of the container—how it had been opened he couldn’t even hazard a guess at—it was smooth and completely flawless. Two wires connected it with the two consoles it sat between, one labelled as Computer System Operation and the other as Intelligence Analysis. Innis sat at the former, whilst Tyler was running scans on the device itself.
He had been thrilled at the opportunity to work with Tyler on a smaller scale, but they had been studying the box and the consoles for an hour, and every avenue of conversation outside of their assigned task were quickly closed off by the younger man. Innis had since resolved himself to the fact that Tyler wasn’t one for small talk and focused on the computer screen. He decided at the earliest opportunity, he’d ask Harriet about the Tactical Officer—hopefully she wouldn’t catch on to him.
Focusing fully on the console once again, he tried another decryption algorithm in order to gain access to the Chanok computer banks. But just like the others it was rejected. He groaned at the fifteenth defeat he’d suffered since they started. Massaging the bridge of his ridged nose, which always grew tight when he was frustrated, he turned away from the console and leaned against it—since it didn’t have a chair he could sit on.
“This is probably the toughest system I’ve ever had to crack! The security lock outs at the Academy were a cakewalk compared to these!”
Tyler stopped scanning and scrutinised him. “You hacked the secure database at the Academy?”
Innis blushed and suddenly felt a little sheepish. “Well…yeah I did. Everyone said it couldn’t be done, so I just had to try it for myself. It’s not like I changed my grades or stole test papers. I just got into the server to test myself.”
“There was an urban rumour that went round when I was on campus about someone hacking the database, but we all though it was just someone being overly boastful. You really did that?”
“Wasn’t all that hard really. I just piggybacked on an active user interface into the system and…” he trailed off, the beginnings of an idea forming in his mind. He turned back to the station he was working on and quickly uploaded the same tracer programme he had used back at the Academy from his tricorder—after weeks of work developing it, he made sure that he always had the tracer with him.
“Ensign, see if you can find an active terminal interface. It doesn’t matter what it is, just as long as it’s still open and has an outstanding command input.”
Tyler didn’t ask any questions and followed his new order. He went between the consoles, checking each one. It was the fourth one he tried, that he called out, “Got one. It’s for Environmental Regulation.”
“Excellent. Give me a sec, I’ll link up with it,” he said as he worked his tricorder and the alien console. After a moment he had established a telemetry link between them. “Ok now, I want you to initiate that command—so long as it’s not going to kill us.”
He nodded and then tapped a stud. Immediately Innis’ tracer went to work, attaching itself to the active data stream and then into the central computer. From there it began to search for and unlock the encryptions from the inside out. Innis monitored the programme on his tricorder and its progress on the terminal, aware that Tyler had come back to join him and was looking over his shoulder at the results. Though more than aware of the humans’ proximity, Innis concentrated on the hack.
After less than five minutes, the tracer programme completed its task and the entire database was made available to them. “Yes!” he cheered, and set about checking the last series of commands and databases the console had been used to access. But after a few seconds he paused and looked back at Tyler.
“Eh, I hope you don’t mention my Academy antics in your report.”
There was the faintest hint of a smile on Tyler’s youthful face. “It’s best not to dwell on the past Lieutenant.”
“Glad to hear it Joe,” he replied and turned back to the screen, just as a large block of data appeared. Paused the scrolling readouts, he looked for the data’s origin, and was surprised to see that it had been downloaded from the white container. How could something so small have the same processing power as the computer on a Defiant-Class starship?
As he pondered the question, something caught his eye in the densely compressed data packet. He focused in on it and felt his eyes go wide. Ship names, classes, crews and capacities. Detailed maps of shipping lanes and freighter loads. Border Service patrol routes and communications protocols. Lists of codenames and scrambled subspace frequencies. Exchange rates and stock market data from across the Quadrant.
“I think we’ve just found who is at the centre of the increase smuggling operations along the border,” he said to Tyler, who had leaned in closer to read the masses of data. He tapped his combadge. “Innis to Leijten.”
“Go ahead Lieutenant.”
“Sir, we’ve just found something you’re not going to believe.”
***
Ah, game over for the bad guys. Good thing Silverfin showed up when she did. One wonders what would have happened if she had not come to the rescue. I'm sure Amorin's regrets would have been a lot more significant.
I enjoy all the little subplots imbedded within the main narrative. Keeps one interested to see how they'll develop.
I enjoy all the little subplots imbedded within the main narrative. Keeps one interested to see how they'll develop.
Okay, maybe slightly predictable, the ship shows up at the last minute and saves the day. But it felt right to me when I wrote it.
One or two little things to tie up and then that'll be this fic done. Hopefully written and posted very soon.
-B
Excellent combat sequences - very intense and very well-written. Amorin made a tough call - but he weighed the options and took a calculated risk. Yes, without the intervention of Silverfin, it would likely have ended in disaster. But most battles are won by equal measures of courage, sound tactics and luck.
And a very interesting discovery there at the last. It begs the question - what is the original source of all this information?
And a very interesting discovery there at the last. It begs the question - what is the original source of all this information?
More great stuff, it's great to get the lower decks officer type stuff in these stories.
Hello all,
Been having some computer issues, but they've been solved now so will get the last chapter written and posted very soon.
-Bry
Been having some computer issues, but they've been solved now so will get the last chapter written and posted very soon.
-Bry
Oh, good, I've been curious of when you were going to post more.
Chapter 15
Main Engineering, U.S.S. Silverfin NCC-4470
On approach to Star Station Freedom
Behind him he heard the doors open. Th’Shaan glanced up and saw Captain Leijten enter the engine room, her stroll was casual and she looked around the room, taking everything in. He was bent over one of the diagnostic consoles, checking up on all the repairs they had made to the sensor, communication, navigation and computer systems that the Mirage had fried with their attack. He was fortunate to have such a good crew under him, as everything looked to be at optimum performance standards, which meant they wouldn’t need any dry-dock time.
Satisfied that everything looked good, he left the console and approached the Captain, who had moved over to the warp core and watched as it throbbed. It was a sound th’Shaan had always found relaxing, to the point that it unsettled him when the core was off-line or he was forced into taking leave.
“Everything alright Lieutenant?” she asked, looking at him as he approached.
“All systems check out sir. As soon as we drop off the Chanok we’ll be good to go.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said and then looked around at the staff that were working. When she looked back at th’Shaan she lowered her voice so as to not be overheard. “I read the report you submitted on Ensign Feeznar. I’m sorry to hear he’s causing problems down here—going by his Academy record, I would have thought he’d be an asset to your team.”
“On paper he looks to be a gifted young officer, but he’s one of those officers that may be exception in the classroom but has little practical skill in the field. He may be better suited to R&D work,” he explained. When he’d submitted the report to Leijten he had still been running on emotion, but now that he’d have a chance to relax he didn’t want to jeopardise the young Girinite’s prospects.
Leijten nodded thoughtfully. “That maybe so, but I’m not sure time on a buoy tender or monitoring station would be of benefit to someone like Feeznar.”
“Meaning?” he asked, not liking where she seemed to be going with her train of thought.
“Transfer denied Lieutenant.”
“But Captain—” he began, his raised voice brought a few looks from the engineers.
She held up her hand, silencing him. “Do you know anything more about Feeznar, other than what’s in his service jacket?”
“I’ve tried Captain, but he’s not exactly warmed up to the Silverfin, or anyone in the engine room—myself included. He just doesn’t seem to fit in here,” he quickly explained, his voice lower than moments ago. “Granted, transferring him to a tender or backwater outpost might be a bit harsh, but there are bound to be other assignments out there that he could be of use.”
“It would leave you a man short down here.”
“I know sir, and I know that getting a replacement would be difficult, but my people and I are willing and able to put in the work to make up for it.”
“I know you would. But whose to say these problems wouldn’t follow him to elsewhere in the Border Service or the Fleet?” she looked around engineering once again. “You’ve gotten to know all of your staff pretty well Elak. I suggest you do the same with the ensign. Help him get comfortable here. Try it for a few months, and if you’re still having the same problems, then I’ll submit the paperwork for transferral.”
Th’Shaan felt a throbbing headache come on at the Captain’s advice. He didn’t know if he could handle a few more months of Feeznar—especially when he had to try and bond with him as well. But he also knew that her recommendation was more an order than a suggestion, and he wasn’t the kind of officer to disobey an order.
He nodded slowly. “Very well sir. I’ll try it for a few months, but what might he learn in that time that he hasn’t in the five he’s been onboard for?”
“It takes some people time to get truly comfortable somewhere. And as department head, it’s your responsibility to make the effort and help them out.”
“Yes ma’am.”
She gave him a supportive smile. “If you need any help, remember that my door is always open Elak. Also keep me apprised of his progress.”
“Will do.”
With that, she headed back the way she came and left him to contemplate his new assignment and just how he’d tackle it. “Computer, locate Ensign Feeznar.”
“Ensign Feeznar is in Jefferies tube juncture F-17.”
He managed to stifle a groan. Feeznar was supposed to be running inventory in the engineering storage room. This was going to be a lot tougher than anything he could have imagined.
***
Rear Admiral T’Rona’s Office
Star Station Freedom
“From what we’ve been able to determine, the Chanok ship were the ones behind a third of the smuggling runs going on in the region,” Susanna Leijten explained to Rear Admiral T’Rona, the Third Cutter Squadron Commander, Lieutenant Commander Macintosh, the Intelligence Officer assigned to Star Station Freedom, and Lieutenant Commander Drizuk, the leader of the SCIS team. “It looks like they have been shipping anything and everything into and out of Federation space, trying to establish business links with some of the more disreputable species out there.”
“Such as?” Macintosh asked, looking up from the PADD she had given to him.
“The Nausicaans, Chalnoth, Brez’ek, Prii, and also a few Orion factions. None of the major races. Even the Ferengi want nothing to do with them—I’d say it looks like Grand Nagus Rom is interested in improving relations with the Federation.”
“Well it is his son that was the first Ferengi to join Starfleet,” commented Drizuk. “Captain, what about this device that your crew found in the Tactical Centre?”
“I had my Ops Officer and Chief Engineer run every test and diagnostic they could think of on it. As far as they were able to determine it looks like some kind of intelligence gathering device. Its sensors are on par with the Silverfin; its communications system has numerous decryption and infiltration protocols built into it; and computer processing power greater than a Defiant-Class ship. It looks like once the device is deployed it continuously scans its surroundings and intercepts all comm traffic in its range, all that data is then stored until it is retrieved and downloaded. From the data we were able to go through, it looks like this unit has covered about a sixth of Federation space, being transferred from ship to ship at regular intervals.”
“Impressive,” said Macintosh. “It’s a good way of gathering data without putting any of your own people at risk, or exposing yourself to detection.”
“Indeed,” agreed T’Rona, “however, the question is: was that ship acting on orders from the Chanok government, or is it a rogue operation.”
“Unfortunately, the officers are remaining silent on that matter, and the general crew don’t have a clue,” said Drizuk, stroking his beard, a serious look on the Tellarite’s lined face. “We will keep trying, but I doubt any of them will crack—they all seem more afraid of their Captain than anything we say.”
T’Rona nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you Commander Drizuk. Mr Macintosh, I want a full intelligence report of ship activity in the region, utilising all long-range sensor relays to their full capacity—there may be other Chanok ships operating in the region. Unless the crew are anymore forthcoming with information, they will remain here until transport can be arranged to a proper penal facility. I will have Lieutenant Commander Weir begin a full analysis of that vessel, the more technical and tactical data we can gather on modern Chanok ships would be of great benefit.” She looked back at Leijten. “Is there anything more you wish to add to your report?”
Leijten shook her head. “Negative Admiral. Everything pertinent is included on the PADDs.”
“Very well Captain. We shall not keep you any longer. When will the Silverfin be ready to resume her duties?”
“We’re taking on a new stock of isolinear chips, once that’s complete we will rejoin the Hercules. No more than an hour or so.”
“Thank you again Captain. Dismissed.”
Leijten left the Admiral’s office, where she remained with Macintosh and Drizuk to discuss the more confidential matters of the Silverfin’s findings. That suited her just fine. She had four pips on her collar and one hundred and twenty-three people to focus on, and didn’t want to go any higher than that. In the outer office, Lieutenant JG Kasan, T’Rona’s attaché, gave her a friendly smile.
“Good day to you Captain,” the young fresh-faced Trill said, her voice soft and lyrical.
“Thank you Lieutenant Kasan.”
She stepped out of the outer office and waiting area and stopped cold. Opposite the entrance, leaning against the bulkhead in a casual manner was Hank. All that was missing were his Stetson and cowboy boots. The doors whispered closed behind her.
“Ma’am,” he said by way of greeting.
“Hank, I didn’t expect to see you up here.”
“Ah guessed as much Suz. Seein’ as how the Silverfin comes into dock and ah don’t get a call from yer.”
She felt her cheeks flush. “Yeah, sorry about that. We’ve only been in for an hour and due to leave pretty soon. If I’d had more time onboard I would have commed you.”
He pushed off from the wall and stood in front of her, close enough to catch the faint scent of his aftershave—a subtle fragrance it had taken her a month of dating him to detect (and since she had, she found that it was one of the first things she noticed about him). Like a schoolgirl with a crush, she felt her heart flutter as he moved closer to her.
“Ah know it’s only a stop-off. Who’d yer think had to fill the request for the replacement isolinear chips, as well as restocking the Mirage?” he said with an easy, lop-sided smile.
She gave him a bittersweet smile—thrilled that he was keen to meet with her, but at the same time thinking about the Mirage. The transport ship had come through the battle without a scratch, and Rebecca Mellor was doing well considering her captivity. It was her father that was suffering now. Despite her best efforts, Lieutenant Jenka hadn’t been able to do anything for the civilian captain, and even the medical facilities on Star Station Freedom were stumped. The crew of the J-Class transport had elected to return to the Federation core, and take Jeffery Mellor to a hospital where he could get the treatment he needed. But the prognosis he’d been given wasn’t good. After weeks of worrying about saving his daughter, he wasn’t even aware that it was her that was holding his hand every free minute she had.
Though not a religious person, Susanna Leijten had prayed for his recovery and for the crew of the Mirage to have a quiet life after the hell they had faced.
“Thanks for that Hank. They need all the help we can give them. I’m just glad that the Admiral and Commander Drizuk accepted the extenuating circumstances, and decided against filing any charges against them.”
“T’Rona’s logical but fair,” he agreed. “As for Drizuk, well ah reckon that he’s a little intimidated by her.” Hank paused and looked up and down the empty corridor. “As for the supplies, well ah never could refuse you Suz. But don’t think that just ‘cause yer’re in for a flyin visit that ah wouldn’t want to see yer.”
Before she could reply her combadge chirped. “Amorin to Leijten.”
She tapped the pin on her chest. “Go ahead Commander.”
“Captain, all the former prisoners from the Chanok ship have been off-loaded, and our supplies are being transferred as we speak. We’ll be ready for departure in less than fifteen minutes,” the Benzenite stated, sounding a little surprised at how quickly things were going.
“Understood Amorin. I’m heading back now. Leijten out.”
Leijten looked back at Hank Mitchell. “Good to see you’re as efficient as you used to be.”
“The sooner yer finish this mission, the sooner yer get to have some R&R on the station,” he paused, suddenly looking a little unsure of what to say next—which was unusual for the confident and self-assured Texan.
She was about to make her goodbyes and head for the nearest transporter room, when he suddenly lunged in and planted a soft but passionate kiss on her lips. It was a short, sharp shock to the system, that she never had a chance to realise what he was doing—let alone return it. After the brief moment of blissful confusion, he held her face in his rough hands.
“Be careful out there Suz. Ah’ve just found yer again, ah don’t want to loose yer.”
She looked into his sparkling blue eyes for a moment. Her mind was whirling in confusion; old feelings she had thought herself long over came back to the surface, memories of the good times they had had together, her misery after he left, her sense of duty and obligation to her crew. A week ago, she hadn’t even thought about Henry Mitchell, but now her emotions were at war—all because of the only man she could say that she had truly loved.
“Hank,” she began, having no clue how to end the sentence.
“Patterson to Mitchell,” the intercom chirped. “Senior Chief, we’ve got a problem with the manifest system down in bay twenty-two.”
“Ah’ll be there in a moment,” Hank replied, dropping his hands.
She smiled at him. “You’re timing sucks Hank.”
He chuckled. “Well it’ll give yer a reason to come back here.”
“I need a reason for that?” she asked in mock seriousness. “When I get back in, we really need to talk.”
“Sure thing.”
She wanted to say something more, but her head was still muddled, her ship was waiting and there were still a job to be done. Neither of them had the time to say some of the things that really needed to be said before their respective crews started looking for them.
“Ah’ll speak to yer soon Cap’n,” he said after a beat of awkward silence.
“I look forward to it Chief,” she replied, sounding a little overly formal. They turned and headed in opposite directions down the corridor. Her stomach was clenched tight, and her heart pounded in her chest. Only Hank could make her so confused and vulnerable and giddy, all at the same time.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, and saw that he was doing the same. He smiled at her and she returned it. Leijten held onto the moment for as long as she could, but then she had to turn off the main corridor and head back to the Silverfin.
What the hell am I getting myself into? she asked herself as she headed into a transporter room. As she stepped up onto the dais and gave the operator her destination, she tried to organise her thoughts, putting aside the Pandora’s Box that Hank had opened up, and concentrate on what was at hand: her ship, her crew, her mission. All of them took priority over her personal life—besides, she knew how to handle them and what to do to achieve success, unlike her rather disastrous love life.
Materialising on the Silverfin, she stepped off the platform, thanked Crewman Peters at the controls, and headed for the bridge. Focus on one thing at a time Susanna, her father’s voice rung in her head. Sometimes to appreciate the ‘big picture’ you have to take time and nitpick on the little things first. It was sound advice that had helped her out many times in her career, and she would follow it now as well.
***
END
Main Engineering, U.S.S. Silverfin NCC-4470
On approach to Star Station Freedom
Behind him he heard the doors open. Th’Shaan glanced up and saw Captain Leijten enter the engine room, her stroll was casual and she looked around the room, taking everything in. He was bent over one of the diagnostic consoles, checking up on all the repairs they had made to the sensor, communication, navigation and computer systems that the Mirage had fried with their attack. He was fortunate to have such a good crew under him, as everything looked to be at optimum performance standards, which meant they wouldn’t need any dry-dock time.
Satisfied that everything looked good, he left the console and approached the Captain, who had moved over to the warp core and watched as it throbbed. It was a sound th’Shaan had always found relaxing, to the point that it unsettled him when the core was off-line or he was forced into taking leave.
“Everything alright Lieutenant?” she asked, looking at him as he approached.
“All systems check out sir. As soon as we drop off the Chanok we’ll be good to go.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said and then looked around at the staff that were working. When she looked back at th’Shaan she lowered her voice so as to not be overheard. “I read the report you submitted on Ensign Feeznar. I’m sorry to hear he’s causing problems down here—going by his Academy record, I would have thought he’d be an asset to your team.”
“On paper he looks to be a gifted young officer, but he’s one of those officers that may be exception in the classroom but has little practical skill in the field. He may be better suited to R&D work,” he explained. When he’d submitted the report to Leijten he had still been running on emotion, but now that he’d have a chance to relax he didn’t want to jeopardise the young Girinite’s prospects.
Leijten nodded thoughtfully. “That maybe so, but I’m not sure time on a buoy tender or monitoring station would be of benefit to someone like Feeznar.”
“Meaning?” he asked, not liking where she seemed to be going with her train of thought.
“Transfer denied Lieutenant.”
“But Captain—” he began, his raised voice brought a few looks from the engineers.
She held up her hand, silencing him. “Do you know anything more about Feeznar, other than what’s in his service jacket?”
“I’ve tried Captain, but he’s not exactly warmed up to the Silverfin, or anyone in the engine room—myself included. He just doesn’t seem to fit in here,” he quickly explained, his voice lower than moments ago. “Granted, transferring him to a tender or backwater outpost might be a bit harsh, but there are bound to be other assignments out there that he could be of use.”
“It would leave you a man short down here.”
“I know sir, and I know that getting a replacement would be difficult, but my people and I are willing and able to put in the work to make up for it.”
“I know you would. But whose to say these problems wouldn’t follow him to elsewhere in the Border Service or the Fleet?” she looked around engineering once again. “You’ve gotten to know all of your staff pretty well Elak. I suggest you do the same with the ensign. Help him get comfortable here. Try it for a few months, and if you’re still having the same problems, then I’ll submit the paperwork for transferral.”
Th’Shaan felt a throbbing headache come on at the Captain’s advice. He didn’t know if he could handle a few more months of Feeznar—especially when he had to try and bond with him as well. But he also knew that her recommendation was more an order than a suggestion, and he wasn’t the kind of officer to disobey an order.
He nodded slowly. “Very well sir. I’ll try it for a few months, but what might he learn in that time that he hasn’t in the five he’s been onboard for?”
“It takes some people time to get truly comfortable somewhere. And as department head, it’s your responsibility to make the effort and help them out.”
“Yes ma’am.”
She gave him a supportive smile. “If you need any help, remember that my door is always open Elak. Also keep me apprised of his progress.”
“Will do.”
With that, she headed back the way she came and left him to contemplate his new assignment and just how he’d tackle it. “Computer, locate Ensign Feeznar.”
“Ensign Feeznar is in Jefferies tube juncture F-17.”
He managed to stifle a groan. Feeznar was supposed to be running inventory in the engineering storage room. This was going to be a lot tougher than anything he could have imagined.
***
Rear Admiral T’Rona’s Office
Star Station Freedom
“From what we’ve been able to determine, the Chanok ship were the ones behind a third of the smuggling runs going on in the region,” Susanna Leijten explained to Rear Admiral T’Rona, the Third Cutter Squadron Commander, Lieutenant Commander Macintosh, the Intelligence Officer assigned to Star Station Freedom, and Lieutenant Commander Drizuk, the leader of the SCIS team. “It looks like they have been shipping anything and everything into and out of Federation space, trying to establish business links with some of the more disreputable species out there.”
“Such as?” Macintosh asked, looking up from the PADD she had given to him.
“The Nausicaans, Chalnoth, Brez’ek, Prii, and also a few Orion factions. None of the major races. Even the Ferengi want nothing to do with them—I’d say it looks like Grand Nagus Rom is interested in improving relations with the Federation.”
“Well it is his son that was the first Ferengi to join Starfleet,” commented Drizuk. “Captain, what about this device that your crew found in the Tactical Centre?”
“I had my Ops Officer and Chief Engineer run every test and diagnostic they could think of on it. As far as they were able to determine it looks like some kind of intelligence gathering device. Its sensors are on par with the Silverfin; its communications system has numerous decryption and infiltration protocols built into it; and computer processing power greater than a Defiant-Class ship. It looks like once the device is deployed it continuously scans its surroundings and intercepts all comm traffic in its range, all that data is then stored until it is retrieved and downloaded. From the data we were able to go through, it looks like this unit has covered about a sixth of Federation space, being transferred from ship to ship at regular intervals.”
“Impressive,” said Macintosh. “It’s a good way of gathering data without putting any of your own people at risk, or exposing yourself to detection.”
“Indeed,” agreed T’Rona, “however, the question is: was that ship acting on orders from the Chanok government, or is it a rogue operation.”
“Unfortunately, the officers are remaining silent on that matter, and the general crew don’t have a clue,” said Drizuk, stroking his beard, a serious look on the Tellarite’s lined face. “We will keep trying, but I doubt any of them will crack—they all seem more afraid of their Captain than anything we say.”
T’Rona nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you Commander Drizuk. Mr Macintosh, I want a full intelligence report of ship activity in the region, utilising all long-range sensor relays to their full capacity—there may be other Chanok ships operating in the region. Unless the crew are anymore forthcoming with information, they will remain here until transport can be arranged to a proper penal facility. I will have Lieutenant Commander Weir begin a full analysis of that vessel, the more technical and tactical data we can gather on modern Chanok ships would be of great benefit.” She looked back at Leijten. “Is there anything more you wish to add to your report?”
Leijten shook her head. “Negative Admiral. Everything pertinent is included on the PADDs.”
“Very well Captain. We shall not keep you any longer. When will the Silverfin be ready to resume her duties?”
“We’re taking on a new stock of isolinear chips, once that’s complete we will rejoin the Hercules. No more than an hour or so.”
“Thank you again Captain. Dismissed.”
Leijten left the Admiral’s office, where she remained with Macintosh and Drizuk to discuss the more confidential matters of the Silverfin’s findings. That suited her just fine. She had four pips on her collar and one hundred and twenty-three people to focus on, and didn’t want to go any higher than that. In the outer office, Lieutenant JG Kasan, T’Rona’s attaché, gave her a friendly smile.
“Good day to you Captain,” the young fresh-faced Trill said, her voice soft and lyrical.
“Thank you Lieutenant Kasan.”
She stepped out of the outer office and waiting area and stopped cold. Opposite the entrance, leaning against the bulkhead in a casual manner was Hank. All that was missing were his Stetson and cowboy boots. The doors whispered closed behind her.
“Ma’am,” he said by way of greeting.
“Hank, I didn’t expect to see you up here.”
“Ah guessed as much Suz. Seein’ as how the Silverfin comes into dock and ah don’t get a call from yer.”
She felt her cheeks flush. “Yeah, sorry about that. We’ve only been in for an hour and due to leave pretty soon. If I’d had more time onboard I would have commed you.”
He pushed off from the wall and stood in front of her, close enough to catch the faint scent of his aftershave—a subtle fragrance it had taken her a month of dating him to detect (and since she had, she found that it was one of the first things she noticed about him). Like a schoolgirl with a crush, she felt her heart flutter as he moved closer to her.
“Ah know it’s only a stop-off. Who’d yer think had to fill the request for the replacement isolinear chips, as well as restocking the Mirage?” he said with an easy, lop-sided smile.
She gave him a bittersweet smile—thrilled that he was keen to meet with her, but at the same time thinking about the Mirage. The transport ship had come through the battle without a scratch, and Rebecca Mellor was doing well considering her captivity. It was her father that was suffering now. Despite her best efforts, Lieutenant Jenka hadn’t been able to do anything for the civilian captain, and even the medical facilities on Star Station Freedom were stumped. The crew of the J-Class transport had elected to return to the Federation core, and take Jeffery Mellor to a hospital where he could get the treatment he needed. But the prognosis he’d been given wasn’t good. After weeks of worrying about saving his daughter, he wasn’t even aware that it was her that was holding his hand every free minute she had.
Though not a religious person, Susanna Leijten had prayed for his recovery and for the crew of the Mirage to have a quiet life after the hell they had faced.
“Thanks for that Hank. They need all the help we can give them. I’m just glad that the Admiral and Commander Drizuk accepted the extenuating circumstances, and decided against filing any charges against them.”
“T’Rona’s logical but fair,” he agreed. “As for Drizuk, well ah reckon that he’s a little intimidated by her.” Hank paused and looked up and down the empty corridor. “As for the supplies, well ah never could refuse you Suz. But don’t think that just ‘cause yer’re in for a flyin visit that ah wouldn’t want to see yer.”
Before she could reply her combadge chirped. “Amorin to Leijten.”
She tapped the pin on her chest. “Go ahead Commander.”
“Captain, all the former prisoners from the Chanok ship have been off-loaded, and our supplies are being transferred as we speak. We’ll be ready for departure in less than fifteen minutes,” the Benzenite stated, sounding a little surprised at how quickly things were going.
“Understood Amorin. I’m heading back now. Leijten out.”
Leijten looked back at Hank Mitchell. “Good to see you’re as efficient as you used to be.”
“The sooner yer finish this mission, the sooner yer get to have some R&R on the station,” he paused, suddenly looking a little unsure of what to say next—which was unusual for the confident and self-assured Texan.
She was about to make her goodbyes and head for the nearest transporter room, when he suddenly lunged in and planted a soft but passionate kiss on her lips. It was a short, sharp shock to the system, that she never had a chance to realise what he was doing—let alone return it. After the brief moment of blissful confusion, he held her face in his rough hands.
“Be careful out there Suz. Ah’ve just found yer again, ah don’t want to loose yer.”
She looked into his sparkling blue eyes for a moment. Her mind was whirling in confusion; old feelings she had thought herself long over came back to the surface, memories of the good times they had had together, her misery after he left, her sense of duty and obligation to her crew. A week ago, she hadn’t even thought about Henry Mitchell, but now her emotions were at war—all because of the only man she could say that she had truly loved.
“Hank,” she began, having no clue how to end the sentence.
“Patterson to Mitchell,” the intercom chirped. “Senior Chief, we’ve got a problem with the manifest system down in bay twenty-two.”
“Ah’ll be there in a moment,” Hank replied, dropping his hands.
She smiled at him. “You’re timing sucks Hank.”
He chuckled. “Well it’ll give yer a reason to come back here.”
“I need a reason for that?” she asked in mock seriousness. “When I get back in, we really need to talk.”
“Sure thing.”
She wanted to say something more, but her head was still muddled, her ship was waiting and there were still a job to be done. Neither of them had the time to say some of the things that really needed to be said before their respective crews started looking for them.
“Ah’ll speak to yer soon Cap’n,” he said after a beat of awkward silence.
“I look forward to it Chief,” she replied, sounding a little overly formal. They turned and headed in opposite directions down the corridor. Her stomach was clenched tight, and her heart pounded in her chest. Only Hank could make her so confused and vulnerable and giddy, all at the same time.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, and saw that he was doing the same. He smiled at her and she returned it. Leijten held onto the moment for as long as she could, but then she had to turn off the main corridor and head back to the Silverfin.
What the hell am I getting myself into? she asked herself as she headed into a transporter room. As she stepped up onto the dais and gave the operator her destination, she tried to organise her thoughts, putting aside the Pandora’s Box that Hank had opened up, and concentrate on what was at hand: her ship, her crew, her mission. All of them took priority over her personal life—besides, she knew how to handle them and what to do to achieve success, unlike her rather disastrous love life.
Materialising on the Silverfin, she stepped off the platform, thanked Crewman Peters at the controls, and headed for the bridge. Focus on one thing at a time Susanna, her father’s voice rung in her head. Sometimes to appreciate the ‘big picture’ you have to take time and nitpick on the little things first. It was sound advice that had helped her out many times in her career, and she would follow it now as well.
***
END
Nice wrap-up to an excellent story! While the after-action report was almost anti-climatic after the intense battle sequences, it was well-written and interesting to learn the purpose of the strange device. Rather than some exotic weapon, we learn it's a sophisticated listening device. The question remains whether it was developed by the Chanok, or someone else. Doubtless the Border Service will be keeping a keen eye out for the Chanok in the future.
I liked the surprise reunion between Susanna and Hank. It was as awkward an unexpected - a very interesting complication for the Silverfin's C.O.
I look forward to your next adventure of the Silverfin.
I liked the surprise reunion between Susanna and Hank. It was as awkward an unexpected - a very interesting complication for the Silverfin's C.O.
I look forward to your next adventure of the Silverfin.
Ah, love among the stars. Doesn't get better than that.
Seeing the effect the dashing Texans has on Leijten, we know something more is going to happen here eventually. I like it when a captain gets to have relationships. After all, thanks to their profession, those are never quite straight forward.
Great job on a riveting tale here and you leave us plenty of questions to ponder while we anticipate Silverfin's next adventure.
Seeing the effect the dashing Texans has on Leijten, we know something more is going to happen here eventually. I like it when a captain gets to have relationships. After all, thanks to their profession, those are never quite straight forward.
Great job on a riveting tale here and you leave us plenty of questions to ponder while we anticipate Silverfin's next adventure.
Nice ending to a very good story, Bry. I liked how you pulled a Geordi-Barclay thing with Elak and Fe -- ok, I can't even remember his name. Oops... Anyways, I liked it and the part between Leitjen and Hank.
At first, I couldn't imagine Mark Harmon for the part but after that last little bit, I can see that you cast Hank right.
Let's hope your next story is just as entertaining and fascinating. I give you four thumbsup.
At first, I couldn't imagine Mark Harmon for the part but after that last little bit, I can see that you cast Hank right.
Let's hope your next story is just as entertaining and fascinating. I give you four thumbsup.
TheLoneRedshirt - I kinda wanted the end to be a little anti-climatic, after all the action of the mission, giving them a brief moment to catch their breath before having to get right back to work. After all, they still have several weeks worth of patrol to complete before they get a break. The Chanok will return, not sure exactly what all they've been up to, but you know its not going to be good.
CeJay - Having four pips on your collar doesn't mean that you can't have a little happiness in your private life. Her love life has been pretty disasterous in the past, and the last time she and Hank got together it ended abruptly, before they really knew where it was going. Now she has to figure all that out once again.
admiralelm11 - Feeznar will be a thorn in the side of the easy-going Lieutenant th'Shaan for a while to come. For me Mark Harmon was the only man for the role. As for the next story, I have an idea lurking in the back of my mind and will hopefully get it started soon.
Glad you all liked it.
-Brydon
CeJay - Having four pips on your collar doesn't mean that you can't have a little happiness in your private life. Her love life has been pretty disasterous in the past, and the last time she and Hank got together it ended abruptly, before they really knew where it was going. Now she has to figure all that out once again.
admiralelm11 - Feeznar will be a thorn in the side of the easy-going Lieutenant th'Shaan for a while to come. For me Mark Harmon was the only man for the role. As for the next story, I have an idea lurking in the back of my mind and will hopefully get it started soon.
Glad you all liked it.
-Brydon
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