This is my first entry into the monthly fanfic challenge, and so I’ve decided to explore an all new crew within my little nook of TLR’s Border Service: the Third Cutter Squadron and more specifically the crew of the U.S.S. Kukui. The events of this story take place at roughly the same time as my latest Silverfin WIP (which I am going to kick start again very soon).
I hope you enjoy.
* * * * *
Security Section, U.S.S. Kukui
En Route to Star Station Freedom, Tamsen Sector
Stardate: 55228.7 (March 25th, 2378)
Captain Kayden Nell entered the security section, heading for a room he had never had reason to visit in the eight months he had commanded the Border Cutter Kukui. He had only entered it once before, on his initial tour of the Sequoia-Class ship, before looking in on the main armoury and phaser practice range, then on to another section of his new command.
The corridor was a short one, so he quickly reached the room he wanted, on the reinforced, forcefield shielded doors of which was written: BRIG. Tapping in his security code, the field deactivated and the doors opened swiftly. He entered to find the room as clean and sterile as it had been when he’d first inspected the facility; a central passage with a workstation opposite the entry at the far end, with two cells on either side (each contained a refresher, sink and a bench/bunk, with another fold-down bunk above it) all of which were contained behind their own forcefields, as they were all occupied.
There were three members of the ships security force present: a burly Caitian petty officer, in full body armour and clutching a phaser carbine, stood by the entry; a petite red-headed human crewwoman (also in full armour) sat at the control console; whilst standing in the middle of the room, arms folded and scowling into one of the cells, stood Senior Chief Grey Barrett. As he approached Barrett—who was four centimetres taller, a good fifteen kilos of muscle heavier, and four years older than Kayden—the senior non-com glanced at him and gave the slightest of nods, before returning his scowl back to the cell, his arms folding across his broad chest in a menacing manner.
Kayden suppressed a smile. For the sheer size of Barrett, he was a softie at heart—except when his people were in danger, then he became a juggernaut. He moved over to stand beside Barrett, his face fixed with an annoyed expression and purposefully not looking into the cell.
“This better be good COB.”
“Sorry Captain, but this prr’tak’Vas wishes to see you,” Barrett told him, slipping in a particularly unpleasant Ktarian phrase.
Kayden took his cue and finally looked into the cell that Barrett intensely watched. Inside there were two diminutive Ferengi, one skulking back in the corner (obviously intimidated by Barrett), which the other stood so close to the forcefiewld that his ugly, bulbous nose almost touched the blue hue. Kayden focused on him, but the privateer captain held his ground.
“Yes?” Kayden asked simply.
“I will speak with you alone,” the Ferengi sneered.
Kayden held his stare for a moment longer, then glanced at Barrett. “Give me the room COB.”
Grudgingly, Barrett nodded. “Aye sir. Hollings, Val’Rrah out.” The two guards nodded and left with the Senior Chief. Kayden watched the three of them leave, as did the Ferengi—as best he could from behind the field. The doors closed and Kayden was left alone in the brig with the eight Ferengi, all of whom moved closer to their respective cell entrances.
He turned back to the captain. “Well, what do you want, Bek?”
The Ferengi gave him a sly smile, exposing his pointed, snarled teeth. “Captain, this has all been a misunderstanding. We are simple businessmen, out looking to make profit—away from the...reforms...” (he almost spat out the word, as though it left a foul taste in his mouth) “that are being imposed on us honest Ferengi by Grand Nagus Rom.”
“You fired on my ship,” he pointed out, placing his hands on his hips.
“My nephew, Krin,” he began, gesturing to the younger male he shared a cell with (who in turn cowered away from his uncle), “is an idiot—raised on too many holovids of Marauder Mo—he sees himself as some kind of vigilante hero. He opened fire without orders. The last thing I would want to do is alienate the Border Service, so couldn’t you just oversee this little incident and let us be on our way.”
“Your ship has been reported for piracy in this region, as well as along the Cardassian border and close to the Badlands. These can’t all be ‘misunderstandings’.”
“Someone is trying to sully my good name!” he protested. “Ship ident-codes can be easily copied or rewritten, and my ship isn’t the only Grimit-Class one in the quadrant.”
“You didn’t stop after we identified ourselves and ordered you to stand-down.”
“You were still shooting at us!”
“I hate to sound like a child, but you did start it, Bek.”
The Ferengi sighed in exasperation. “Whatever, that’s in the past and I don’t hold it against you, Captain. But surely you can see it was an accident. Let my crew and I out of these cells and we will be on our way.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that: you violated interstellar law by firing on us in an unprovoked attack, refusing to submit for inspection, and exceeding the established warp speed limit for this sector whilst in an unmodified vessel; your ship is now impounded and needs to go through the proper legal channels before it can be released; and there’s the little matter of the falsified data in your computer.”
Bek leered at him in a way that made Kayden’s skin crawl. “Captain, I’m sure we could come to some kind of agreement that would benefit both of us—you a cutter captain and me a very successful businessman. We could help each other out and become very wealthy in the process.”
Kayden glanced at the closed doors, then stepped closer to the forcefield and lowered his voice. “How?”
“All you’d need to do is provide a little information to me, so that I can keep ahead of the patrols and keep my specialist routes clear—they have very high profit margins. Just information, it’s never hurt anyone in the past.”
Kayden paused and thought for a moment. He was surprised at how blatant Bek was being with his offer and keenly aware at how eight pairs of eyes bore into him. Kayden had had several dealings with the Ferengi; three times as skipper of the Kukui for the last eight months, once as Captain of the U.S.S. Sojourn for the six months he had been an officer in the regular Fleet, ten times over the eight years he’d served as a Colonel in the Bajoran Militia, and at least five times when he’d been a member of the Resistance—so he knew how to deal with them.
As the moment stretched, the other Ferengi fidgeted, but Bek kept his eyes locked onto Kayden. Slowly, he focused back on the pirate captain. “I’d be your plant?”
“For a very generous share of my profits and any luxury goods you wanted, but which may be difficult to obtain.”
“Who better than a Captain in the Border Service?”
“Precisely,” Bek stated cockily with another toothy smile. “Even she doesn’t—”
A look of horror crossed his face and he clamped his lips tightly shut as he realised his slip. Kayden had caught it however and a sly grin tugged at his lips. “So you’re partnered with a woman, that’ll prove helpful.” He turned towards the entrance but paused and looked back at the Ferengi. “I’ll add bribing a Border Service officer to the list of charges against you.”
With that, he stepped out of the brig and into the security section corridor. Barrett was leaning against the bulkhead opposite the door, arms comfortably folded and his left foot flat against the metal wall panels, whilst the two guards stood on either side of the door. As Kayden left, Barrett nodded at his people and they entered the brig to resume their posts.
Barrett pushed off of the bulkhead and followed Kayden as he headed for the exit. “Did he give you anything useful?”
“He’s working with a woman, one with quite a few connections by the sound of it. I didn’t get a name as he clamped up quickly when he realised his slip, but piracy is still very male dominated so it shouldn’t take too long to narrow down the list.”
“Sounds like a plan, Skipper.”
They stepped into a turbolift and Kayden ordered it to the Bridge. The Sequoia-Class was a small ship, similar in size of the Nova-Class surveyor, with a crew that numbered only in the eighties, so the ride was a short one. The doors parted and Kayden led the way. The Bridge was similar in design to the Intrepid-Class, though with a much more compact feel to it. He stopped by the tactical console right next to the turoblift alcove.
“Anything to report, Lieutenant?”
Kenzi Adall, his Trill tactical officer, looked up at him. “All quiet sir. No signs of any other privateers, all systems are running smoothly.”
“Anything from Scroggins?”
She smiled mischievously. “He says that the ‘bucket of bolts’ is holding together for now and, aside from the smell, everything is alright over there. Zuu is still trying to sort through their databanks to see what is real and what is just garbage.”
Kayden glanced across the Bridge at operations, where Maeta Zuu usually stood, though was now being covered by Ensign Li, then back at Adall. “Very good, Lieutenant. Can you establish a secure comlink with Admiral T’Rona on Freedom and patch it through to my ready room.”
“Can do, Captain.”
He gave her a faint smirk then headed towards his office. As he approached the doors, he overheard Barrett tell Adall, “You’d better be nice about the Commander’s predicament, Lieutenant. Next time it could be you and the ship might be a lot less pleasant than a Ferengi privateer.”
Kayden made a mental note, Next time we seize a ship and have to pilot it back to base, Adall will supervise. Chuckling as he sat down at his desk, the monitor came alive with the Border Service motif, before being quickly replaced with the handsome face of Rear Admiral T’Rona whose appearance was, as always, impeccable.
“Good afternoon Captain Kayden, is something amusing?”
He quickly wiped the stupid grin from his face and shook his head, the earring on his right lobe jingling softly. “My apologies sir. I thought I’d better inform you of the results of my discussion with the Ferengi captain.”
T’Rona clasped her hands on top of her desk. “Continue.”
“Well, as expected, he tried to bribe me into becoming a mole for him—providing information for him to evade patrols and ensure the longevity of his illegal trade routes. He unwittingly let slip that he was working with a female cohort in this region.”
“Interesting. To my knowledge there aren’t many female pirates in the region. Did he provide you with any more information regarding her identity?”
“I’m afraid not. My Ops Manager is currently going through their computer records to see if there is anything in them that could tell us more. But seeing as how merc ships are few and far between, and ones with a woman in command are even rarer, it may help to narrow down the suspect list—that is, if they are involved in the gun running.”
“I will inform Commander Macintosh of this development and have him begin work on compiling a list of potentials. Keep me informed of any further developments.”
“We’ll reach the station in a little over twenty-four hours, but if anything comes up in that time I’ll notify you immediately.”
“Good,” T’Rona told him, then paused. Kayden had had many conversations and meetings with T’Rona over the last eight months and had gotten to know her habits and mannerisms pretty well in that time, so he knew that there was another matter she wished to discuss with him. He waited for a few seconds before she sat up a little stiffer (something he didn’t think was possible). “Captain, something has come up regarding the Kukui that I will need to discuss with you. However I would prefer to do so in person. Once you arrive at the Star Station, could I ask that you come to my office.”
“Of course sir.”
“Very well. Freedom out.”
The screen returned to the Border Service delta. He deactivated the terminal and sat back in his chair, his fingers tightly interlocked and resting on his stomach as his brow furled. What did she want to see him in person about? He hadn’t heard of anything regarding the Kukui, but being new to the Border Service (and Starfleet in general) he didn’t have the wide range of contacts that many other captain’s did. However, he could take an educated guess, what with the Kukui only being on temporary assignment to the Third Squadron, following the Talarian Incursion just thirteen months ago; they were being reassigned.
An uneasy feeling clenched at his stomach as he sat in the stillness of his ready room, listening to the hum of the warp engines.
* * *
Cockpit, Ferengi Privateer
En Route to Star Station Freedom, Tamsen Sector
Everything rattled and grated and groaned. Commander Matthew Scroggins found it hard to believe that a ship, such as the Ferengi privateer he now found himself on, managed to fly without being torn to pieces. It was small, grubby, humid, and stank—an odour not dissimilar to festering milk. Five years ago, he had once boarded a garbage scow and it hadn’t smelled as bad as the Ferengi ship.
He repressed a shudder just as the old junker juddered again. He checked the display, nothing more than a micro-recalibration—something all ships usually did without anyone ever noticing, but on his current posting everyone was keenly aware of it. With only eighty-five people onboard the Kukui, there weren’t many to spare for manning the seized vessel, so he had just a crew of just ten split into three shifts: one in the cockpit, another in the engine room, and a floater (to go wherever they were needed). The tenth member of his crew was Lieutenant JG Zuu, who was attempting to make sense of the Ferengi’s computer core and records.
Scroggins looked over the displays once again, ran another system diagnostic—his forth one since his shift had started—and once everything appeared to check out, slouched back into the pilot seat in an effort to get comfortable. After a month on routine patrol, monitoring the ship activity in the unclaimed regions of space between the Federation and Talarian Republic, he was eager to get back to Star Station Freedom. The Kukui was state of the art, with holodecks, a fully equipped gym, and a comfortable mess hall come recreation room, so the crew weren’t lacking of facilities to enjoy in their downtime, but back on Freedom he had something worth getting back for; a rigorous tumble with Commander Garrett, which did them both the world of good and suited them both—given the Kukui’s temporary status with the Third Squadron. It wasn’t that Scroggins wouldn’t have said no to something more than their current physical relationship, he just couldn’t give more than he could afford to lose—the Dominion War had made him very protective of his heart, after losing Sam.
The gargling swish of the entry hatch shook him from the sad memory of his former fiancé. He looked over his shoulder as Zuu stepped inside the cockpit, looking flustered. The young Bolian was bright and very eager to prove herself—their patrol assignment had been her first onboard—but always came off as being a little skittish, no doubt time and experience would take care of that.
“Um, Commander, do you have a moment?”
“Sure thing, Maeta. What can I do for you?”
She took a few steps further into the cockpit and handed a PADD to him. He took it and then gestured to the empty navigator’s seat. As he glanced over the information she slowly sat down. The report was her initial diagnosis of the computer system, which was very thorough but lacked any real findings.
“It doesn’t look like there is much of any use here.”
He noticed her flush slightly and cast her eyes downwards. “Yes sir, sorry sir.”
“Maeta, what’s the problem?” he asked with a supportive smile.
“It’s their databanks, sir. They have hundreds of files and sub-files, locked behind firewalls, which contain nothing. I’m having to take on each barrier on its own as no two are alike, so what works on one wouldn’t on any of the others. It’s increased the amount of work tenfold. I’m not sure we could find anything useful without a full computer forensic unit working non-stop on this system. How they ever managed to find anything baffles me!”
His smile widened. Zuu was regular Fleet through and through, not used to the nitty-gritty work that the Border Service undertook. “It’s not uncommon for smugglers to work like that. In case they are caught most try to wipe their records, but if they can’t do that then they leave us with a web of useless leads and corrupted files to wade through.”
“Oh? I hadn’t thought of that, sir.”
“Well I’ve been a Border Dog for the last ten years, Maeta; I’ve learned a few things—as you will in time.” He looked back at her report, absently stroking his stubbly chin. “Maybe you should transfer over some of the files to the Kukui, let them take some of the load off.”
“No sir. I’m alright,” she told him quickly.
“No one will think less of you if you ask for help. Isn’t there a Bolian saying about a wise man knows when to ask for help?”
She blushed again, tucking a rogue lock of her golden hair behind her left ear. “I just want the rest of the command staff to know they can depend on me, sir.”
He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Trust me, Lieutenant, we all know. But part of being in the Border Service is to work as part of a team to achieve our goals.”
She nodded. “Aye sir. I’ll transfer some of the files now.” With that, she stood up and left the cockpit.
Scroggins smiled to himself and shook his head. “I was never that young,” he mused.
The ship shuddered again.
* * *
I hope you enjoy.
* * * * *
STAR TREK: Border Service
Tales from the Third Cutter Squadron
“Bright New Day”
Words: 6009
Security Section, U.S.S. Kukui
En Route to Star Station Freedom, Tamsen Sector
Stardate: 55228.7 (March 25th, 2378)
Captain Kayden Nell entered the security section, heading for a room he had never had reason to visit in the eight months he had commanded the Border Cutter Kukui. He had only entered it once before, on his initial tour of the Sequoia-Class ship, before looking in on the main armoury and phaser practice range, then on to another section of his new command.
The corridor was a short one, so he quickly reached the room he wanted, on the reinforced, forcefield shielded doors of which was written: BRIG. Tapping in his security code, the field deactivated and the doors opened swiftly. He entered to find the room as clean and sterile as it had been when he’d first inspected the facility; a central passage with a workstation opposite the entry at the far end, with two cells on either side (each contained a refresher, sink and a bench/bunk, with another fold-down bunk above it) all of which were contained behind their own forcefields, as they were all occupied.
There were three members of the ships security force present: a burly Caitian petty officer, in full body armour and clutching a phaser carbine, stood by the entry; a petite red-headed human crewwoman (also in full armour) sat at the control console; whilst standing in the middle of the room, arms folded and scowling into one of the cells, stood Senior Chief Grey Barrett. As he approached Barrett—who was four centimetres taller, a good fifteen kilos of muscle heavier, and four years older than Kayden—the senior non-com glanced at him and gave the slightest of nods, before returning his scowl back to the cell, his arms folding across his broad chest in a menacing manner.
Kayden suppressed a smile. For the sheer size of Barrett, he was a softie at heart—except when his people were in danger, then he became a juggernaut. He moved over to stand beside Barrett, his face fixed with an annoyed expression and purposefully not looking into the cell.
“This better be good COB.”
“Sorry Captain, but this prr’tak’Vas wishes to see you,” Barrett told him, slipping in a particularly unpleasant Ktarian phrase.
Kayden took his cue and finally looked into the cell that Barrett intensely watched. Inside there were two diminutive Ferengi, one skulking back in the corner (obviously intimidated by Barrett), which the other stood so close to the forcefiewld that his ugly, bulbous nose almost touched the blue hue. Kayden focused on him, but the privateer captain held his ground.
“Yes?” Kayden asked simply.
“I will speak with you alone,” the Ferengi sneered.
Kayden held his stare for a moment longer, then glanced at Barrett. “Give me the room COB.”
Grudgingly, Barrett nodded. “Aye sir. Hollings, Val’Rrah out.” The two guards nodded and left with the Senior Chief. Kayden watched the three of them leave, as did the Ferengi—as best he could from behind the field. The doors closed and Kayden was left alone in the brig with the eight Ferengi, all of whom moved closer to their respective cell entrances.
He turned back to the captain. “Well, what do you want, Bek?”
The Ferengi gave him a sly smile, exposing his pointed, snarled teeth. “Captain, this has all been a misunderstanding. We are simple businessmen, out looking to make profit—away from the...reforms...” (he almost spat out the word, as though it left a foul taste in his mouth) “that are being imposed on us honest Ferengi by Grand Nagus Rom.”
“You fired on my ship,” he pointed out, placing his hands on his hips.
“My nephew, Krin,” he began, gesturing to the younger male he shared a cell with (who in turn cowered away from his uncle), “is an idiot—raised on too many holovids of Marauder Mo—he sees himself as some kind of vigilante hero. He opened fire without orders. The last thing I would want to do is alienate the Border Service, so couldn’t you just oversee this little incident and let us be on our way.”
“Your ship has been reported for piracy in this region, as well as along the Cardassian border and close to the Badlands. These can’t all be ‘misunderstandings’.”
“Someone is trying to sully my good name!” he protested. “Ship ident-codes can be easily copied or rewritten, and my ship isn’t the only Grimit-Class one in the quadrant.”
“You didn’t stop after we identified ourselves and ordered you to stand-down.”
“You were still shooting at us!”
“I hate to sound like a child, but you did start it, Bek.”
The Ferengi sighed in exasperation. “Whatever, that’s in the past and I don’t hold it against you, Captain. But surely you can see it was an accident. Let my crew and I out of these cells and we will be on our way.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that: you violated interstellar law by firing on us in an unprovoked attack, refusing to submit for inspection, and exceeding the established warp speed limit for this sector whilst in an unmodified vessel; your ship is now impounded and needs to go through the proper legal channels before it can be released; and there’s the little matter of the falsified data in your computer.”
Bek leered at him in a way that made Kayden’s skin crawl. “Captain, I’m sure we could come to some kind of agreement that would benefit both of us—you a cutter captain and me a very successful businessman. We could help each other out and become very wealthy in the process.”
Kayden glanced at the closed doors, then stepped closer to the forcefield and lowered his voice. “How?”
“All you’d need to do is provide a little information to me, so that I can keep ahead of the patrols and keep my specialist routes clear—they have very high profit margins. Just information, it’s never hurt anyone in the past.”
Kayden paused and thought for a moment. He was surprised at how blatant Bek was being with his offer and keenly aware at how eight pairs of eyes bore into him. Kayden had had several dealings with the Ferengi; three times as skipper of the Kukui for the last eight months, once as Captain of the U.S.S. Sojourn for the six months he had been an officer in the regular Fleet, ten times over the eight years he’d served as a Colonel in the Bajoran Militia, and at least five times when he’d been a member of the Resistance—so he knew how to deal with them.
As the moment stretched, the other Ferengi fidgeted, but Bek kept his eyes locked onto Kayden. Slowly, he focused back on the pirate captain. “I’d be your plant?”
“For a very generous share of my profits and any luxury goods you wanted, but which may be difficult to obtain.”
“Who better than a Captain in the Border Service?”
“Precisely,” Bek stated cockily with another toothy smile. “Even she doesn’t—”
A look of horror crossed his face and he clamped his lips tightly shut as he realised his slip. Kayden had caught it however and a sly grin tugged at his lips. “So you’re partnered with a woman, that’ll prove helpful.” He turned towards the entrance but paused and looked back at the Ferengi. “I’ll add bribing a Border Service officer to the list of charges against you.”
With that, he stepped out of the brig and into the security section corridor. Barrett was leaning against the bulkhead opposite the door, arms comfortably folded and his left foot flat against the metal wall panels, whilst the two guards stood on either side of the door. As Kayden left, Barrett nodded at his people and they entered the brig to resume their posts.
Barrett pushed off of the bulkhead and followed Kayden as he headed for the exit. “Did he give you anything useful?”
“He’s working with a woman, one with quite a few connections by the sound of it. I didn’t get a name as he clamped up quickly when he realised his slip, but piracy is still very male dominated so it shouldn’t take too long to narrow down the list.”
“Sounds like a plan, Skipper.”
They stepped into a turbolift and Kayden ordered it to the Bridge. The Sequoia-Class was a small ship, similar in size of the Nova-Class surveyor, with a crew that numbered only in the eighties, so the ride was a short one. The doors parted and Kayden led the way. The Bridge was similar in design to the Intrepid-Class, though with a much more compact feel to it. He stopped by the tactical console right next to the turoblift alcove.
“Anything to report, Lieutenant?”
Kenzi Adall, his Trill tactical officer, looked up at him. “All quiet sir. No signs of any other privateers, all systems are running smoothly.”
“Anything from Scroggins?”
She smiled mischievously. “He says that the ‘bucket of bolts’ is holding together for now and, aside from the smell, everything is alright over there. Zuu is still trying to sort through their databanks to see what is real and what is just garbage.”
Kayden glanced across the Bridge at operations, where Maeta Zuu usually stood, though was now being covered by Ensign Li, then back at Adall. “Very good, Lieutenant. Can you establish a secure comlink with Admiral T’Rona on Freedom and patch it through to my ready room.”
“Can do, Captain.”
He gave her a faint smirk then headed towards his office. As he approached the doors, he overheard Barrett tell Adall, “You’d better be nice about the Commander’s predicament, Lieutenant. Next time it could be you and the ship might be a lot less pleasant than a Ferengi privateer.”
Kayden made a mental note, Next time we seize a ship and have to pilot it back to base, Adall will supervise. Chuckling as he sat down at his desk, the monitor came alive with the Border Service motif, before being quickly replaced with the handsome face of Rear Admiral T’Rona whose appearance was, as always, impeccable.
“Good afternoon Captain Kayden, is something amusing?”
He quickly wiped the stupid grin from his face and shook his head, the earring on his right lobe jingling softly. “My apologies sir. I thought I’d better inform you of the results of my discussion with the Ferengi captain.”
T’Rona clasped her hands on top of her desk. “Continue.”
“Well, as expected, he tried to bribe me into becoming a mole for him—providing information for him to evade patrols and ensure the longevity of his illegal trade routes. He unwittingly let slip that he was working with a female cohort in this region.”
“Interesting. To my knowledge there aren’t many female pirates in the region. Did he provide you with any more information regarding her identity?”
“I’m afraid not. My Ops Manager is currently going through their computer records to see if there is anything in them that could tell us more. But seeing as how merc ships are few and far between, and ones with a woman in command are even rarer, it may help to narrow down the suspect list—that is, if they are involved in the gun running.”
“I will inform Commander Macintosh of this development and have him begin work on compiling a list of potentials. Keep me informed of any further developments.”
“We’ll reach the station in a little over twenty-four hours, but if anything comes up in that time I’ll notify you immediately.”
“Good,” T’Rona told him, then paused. Kayden had had many conversations and meetings with T’Rona over the last eight months and had gotten to know her habits and mannerisms pretty well in that time, so he knew that there was another matter she wished to discuss with him. He waited for a few seconds before she sat up a little stiffer (something he didn’t think was possible). “Captain, something has come up regarding the Kukui that I will need to discuss with you. However I would prefer to do so in person. Once you arrive at the Star Station, could I ask that you come to my office.”
“Of course sir.”
“Very well. Freedom out.”
The screen returned to the Border Service delta. He deactivated the terminal and sat back in his chair, his fingers tightly interlocked and resting on his stomach as his brow furled. What did she want to see him in person about? He hadn’t heard of anything regarding the Kukui, but being new to the Border Service (and Starfleet in general) he didn’t have the wide range of contacts that many other captain’s did. However, he could take an educated guess, what with the Kukui only being on temporary assignment to the Third Squadron, following the Talarian Incursion just thirteen months ago; they were being reassigned.
An uneasy feeling clenched at his stomach as he sat in the stillness of his ready room, listening to the hum of the warp engines.
* * *
Cockpit, Ferengi Privateer
En Route to Star Station Freedom, Tamsen Sector
Everything rattled and grated and groaned. Commander Matthew Scroggins found it hard to believe that a ship, such as the Ferengi privateer he now found himself on, managed to fly without being torn to pieces. It was small, grubby, humid, and stank—an odour not dissimilar to festering milk. Five years ago, he had once boarded a garbage scow and it hadn’t smelled as bad as the Ferengi ship.
He repressed a shudder just as the old junker juddered again. He checked the display, nothing more than a micro-recalibration—something all ships usually did without anyone ever noticing, but on his current posting everyone was keenly aware of it. With only eighty-five people onboard the Kukui, there weren’t many to spare for manning the seized vessel, so he had just a crew of just ten split into three shifts: one in the cockpit, another in the engine room, and a floater (to go wherever they were needed). The tenth member of his crew was Lieutenant JG Zuu, who was attempting to make sense of the Ferengi’s computer core and records.
Scroggins looked over the displays once again, ran another system diagnostic—his forth one since his shift had started—and once everything appeared to check out, slouched back into the pilot seat in an effort to get comfortable. After a month on routine patrol, monitoring the ship activity in the unclaimed regions of space between the Federation and Talarian Republic, he was eager to get back to Star Station Freedom. The Kukui was state of the art, with holodecks, a fully equipped gym, and a comfortable mess hall come recreation room, so the crew weren’t lacking of facilities to enjoy in their downtime, but back on Freedom he had something worth getting back for; a rigorous tumble with Commander Garrett, which did them both the world of good and suited them both—given the Kukui’s temporary status with the Third Squadron. It wasn’t that Scroggins wouldn’t have said no to something more than their current physical relationship, he just couldn’t give more than he could afford to lose—the Dominion War had made him very protective of his heart, after losing Sam.
The gargling swish of the entry hatch shook him from the sad memory of his former fiancé. He looked over his shoulder as Zuu stepped inside the cockpit, looking flustered. The young Bolian was bright and very eager to prove herself—their patrol assignment had been her first onboard—but always came off as being a little skittish, no doubt time and experience would take care of that.
“Um, Commander, do you have a moment?”
“Sure thing, Maeta. What can I do for you?”
She took a few steps further into the cockpit and handed a PADD to him. He took it and then gestured to the empty navigator’s seat. As he glanced over the information she slowly sat down. The report was her initial diagnosis of the computer system, which was very thorough but lacked any real findings.
“It doesn’t look like there is much of any use here.”
He noticed her flush slightly and cast her eyes downwards. “Yes sir, sorry sir.”
“Maeta, what’s the problem?” he asked with a supportive smile.
“It’s their databanks, sir. They have hundreds of files and sub-files, locked behind firewalls, which contain nothing. I’m having to take on each barrier on its own as no two are alike, so what works on one wouldn’t on any of the others. It’s increased the amount of work tenfold. I’m not sure we could find anything useful without a full computer forensic unit working non-stop on this system. How they ever managed to find anything baffles me!”
His smile widened. Zuu was regular Fleet through and through, not used to the nitty-gritty work that the Border Service undertook. “It’s not uncommon for smugglers to work like that. In case they are caught most try to wipe their records, but if they can’t do that then they leave us with a web of useless leads and corrupted files to wade through.”
“Oh? I hadn’t thought of that, sir.”
“Well I’ve been a Border Dog for the last ten years, Maeta; I’ve learned a few things—as you will in time.” He looked back at her report, absently stroking his stubbly chin. “Maybe you should transfer over some of the files to the Kukui, let them take some of the load off.”
“No sir. I’m alright,” she told him quickly.
“No one will think less of you if you ask for help. Isn’t there a Bolian saying about a wise man knows when to ask for help?”
She blushed again, tucking a rogue lock of her golden hair behind her left ear. “I just want the rest of the command staff to know they can depend on me, sir.”
He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Trust me, Lieutenant, we all know. But part of being in the Border Service is to work as part of a team to achieve our goals.”
She nodded. “Aye sir. I’ll transfer some of the files now.” With that, she stood up and left the cockpit.
Scroggins smiled to himself and shook his head. “I was never that young,” he mused.
The ship shuddered again.
* * *
