Sutherland: Rocks and Shoals Part 4
I apologize for the slowness in updating, but it's been a busy few weeks and this is a rather big part. I hope everyone enjoys it. Again, I would like to thank DarKush and LoneRedShirt for the use of their characters--I hope I'm doing justice to them, guys!
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Rocks and Shoals: Part 4
USS Sutherland
Lying on her lover’s couch, Ensign Maria Django leaned into the crook of his arm, “FNN?” She asked as she rubbed sinuously against the ruggedly handsome dark haired man next to her.
“Yeah.” Lieutenant Sam Lavelle, the Sutherland’s chief helmsman answered back, giving his dusky skinned paramour a kiss on her forehead as he ran his fingers through her long, luxuriously fine dark hair. “I wanted to catch the Pareses Squares scores before we turned in, but first I guess we’re going to have to put up with the news.” He sighed as the visage of an attractive blonde haired woman appeared on the screen.”
“Not her again!” Maria groaned, “I don’t think that bimbo has two brain cells in her skull.”
“Probably not,” Sam quipped, his eyes falling on the low cut dress the news anchor was wearing, “But that’s not why people watch her.”
Giving her roguish companion a playful slap, Maria jibed back, “You know they’re fake, don’t you?”
His hands wandering as he gave his fiery lover a passionate kiss, Sam whispered seductively in her ear, “I’m happy with what I’ve got in my hands right now…”
“Mmmm…” Django purred as she returned her partner’s kiss, “Good answer. Why don’t we…” However, before she could finish her proposition, the newscaster’s next words immediately broke the spell.
“And Philip Shelby, the hero of Beta Crucis, announced his candidacy for the vacant North American seat in the Terran Senate today. We take you now to his press conference…”
“Isn’t that…” Maria began, only to be interrupted by the man sitting next to her.
“Captain Shelby’s father?” Sam interjected, the earlier romantic mood now dispelled. “Yeah. Let’s watch this…”
“Mr. Shelby?” A stocky sandy haired balding man called out,
“Hans Brinckermann, FNN News. It is rumored that your relationship with your daughter, Captain Elizabeth Shelby, is strained. Would you care to comment about that?”
“Oh boy…” Sam sighed, “I’ve got a feeling this is not going to be good…”
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USS Bluefin
As Joseph Akinola watched the newscast in the
Bluefin’s wardroom along with his first officer, Dale McBride, and Lieutenant T’Ser of Operations, his eyes gazed intently on the image of the well chiseled former Starfleet officer speaking before the crowd of reporters.
“Ideally…” Philip Shelby responded, beginning his carefully coached reply,
“…just as I’m sure everyone here would agree, I would have liked to have kept my family life private. But…” the candidate declared,
“…I can understand my fellow Terrans’ concerns about this issue. There’s an old saying that goes something like this: ‘How can you expect a man to run the State when he cannot run his own household.’ To which I can only give this for an answer—something I’m sure all of you who are parents can relate to: There comes a time when you have done all you can to give your children the love and guidance they need—but they go their own way anyway. All you can do then…” He remarked, his demeanor now one of great somberness, “…is hold firm to your principles…your beliefs…and be ready to greet your child with open arms when they return. Any time my daughter seeks reconciliation…” The elder Shelby announced, his every word and gesture carefully following the script that he had rehearsed,
“…then I shall be there waiting for her.” Nodding his head in gratitude as he heard the scattered applause, the candidate then asked,
“Next question?”
Feeling a natural empathy towards the Senatorial candidate due to his estrangement from his own daughter, Akinola grunted as, picking up his coffee cup, he stood up, “Good answer.” Turning about to leave the wardroom, the
Bluefin’s captain remarked as he left, “The man deserves much better than that slut of a daughter of his.”
“I don’t know…” T’Ser ventured tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper as the door slid shut behind Akinola, “…I have a feeling there’s more to this than what we’re seeing.”
“Why do you say that?” Dale inquired, still slightly surprised at hearing a Vulcan using the expression, ‘having a feeling.’
Her lips turned down into a frown, the lovely Vulcan replied in a soft, haunted voice, “Let’s just say that I think I know a little bit about what Captain Shelby’s going through now and that in this instance Captain Akinola might not be completely right.”
“Maybe.” Dale conceded, shrugging his shoulders, “Not that we’ll probably ever get a chance to find out. I mean…what are the odds of any of us getting to meet—much less to know well—either Captain Shelby or her father.”
An amused smile crossing her face, T’Ser answered back in a flat, stereotypically Vulcan tone, “Approximately 53,412.6 to 1. Assuming neither of us transfers to the Regular Fleet and Captain Shelby does not transfer to the Border Service and either remains in command of the Sutherland or moves to a larger vessel in the Fleet, and assuming she is not made admiral.” Seeing the look of bemusement on the roguishly handsome Texan’s face, T’Ser flashed an impish grin, “In other words, don’t expect an invitation to her next orgy any time soon.”
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USS Sutherland
As the newscast ended, the foursome seated at a card table in Commander Christopher Hobson’s private quarters turned their attention back to their game. As he cut the cards, handing the deck to the Vulcan sitting clockwise from him, Lieutenant Commander Jadon Tol, the
Sutherland’s Trill chief engineer, remarked in dry voice, “You do know that was a put up question, don’t you?”
“While there is always room for uncertainty…” Lieutenant Commander Varok replied as he dealt the cards around the table, “…the probability is high that you are correct. The voice inflection of the reporter asking the question as well as that of Candidate Shelby’s, along with the controlled nature of his gestures does give support to that thesis.”
Picking up her cards, Lieutenant Anara Rysyl nodded her head in agreement with her Vulcan partner seated across from her, “He was coached.” The Deltan woman asserted. “Like Varok said, you can tell from his body language.” Turning to the host of the gathering, the lovely operations chief asked, “What do you think, Chris?”
“I think I will go with one spade.” The diffident first officer flatly replied, countering the Vulcan’s opening bid of one heart, a raised eyebrow the only crack of humor in his otherwise stoic armor.
“Oh you!” Anara huffed, responding when it was her turn with, “Two hearts.” Pausing for a moment, the empathic Deltan pondered aloud, “I wonder how Captain Shelby is taking this?”
“Not good, I’ll bet.” Jadon interjected as he supported his partner’s choice of suit, “Knowing the captain, she’s as pissed as an enraged Mugato.”
“No…” Anara averred, shaking her head, “I have a feeling she’s probably more hurt than angry.”
“Well…whatever…I guess you’ll find out soon enough, eh, Chris?” The Trill engineer remarked, “Aren’t you going to see her soon?”
“Yes.” The first officer replied, “As soon as we finish this rubber, in fact.” His face taking on a stern expression, he quickly added, “But do not expect any gossip from me.”
“Of course not, Chris!” Tol quipped as a sly smile crossed Anara’s face, “I wouldn’t even think of asking you to do something as gauche as that.”
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Unnamed Planetoid—Cardassian Badlands
“This is where we’ll spring our ambush on the
Bluefin.” Sabrina Diaz declared; her pointer landing on star system M-294. “It’s the perfect spot. It has a close hot Jupiter gas giant companion that throws out a lot of radiation that’ll play havoc with their scanners and an extensive asteroid belt providing the perfect cover for our raiders.”
“Ok, Sabrina…” One of the Maquis cell leaders participating in the raid, a dark skinned human male, interjected, “…how are you planning to get them to fall into the trap? What’s to stop them from just going on to Deep Space Nine?”
Her lips turning up into a sly grin, the former Starfleet officer explained, “We’ll bait the trap with a distress call. When the
Bluefin comes in to respond to the call, that’s when we’ll hit them.”
“How can you be sure of that?” A lithe Bajoran woman with what seemed a perpetual sneer interjected.
“Because, Ayenga…” Sabrina smirked, “The
Bluefin is a Border Services cutter and the priority mission of the Border Service is Search and Rescue. The
Bluefin will answer the call.” She concluded definitively.
“He’ll probably be expecting a trap.” The ebony skinned human remarked sagely as he cupped his chin.
“Oh, you can count on that, Paul.” Diaz affirmed as she acknowledged the concern of her fellow Maquis leader, Paul Santos, a colonist displaced from his home by the Cardassians a year earlier. “While I don’t ever recall meeting the captain of the
Bluefin, I have been reading up on him. Captain Akinola has spent almost his entire career in the Border Service and is intensely loyal to it. He’s been on the
Bluefin for most of his service career and has formed as close a bond to that ship and crew as a captain could form. Probably too close a bond.” Sabrina opined, pausing for a moment as she remembered her time as captain of the “He’s also a cagey old fox who knows most of the tricks in the book and has invented a few of his own. I intend to use both those things against him.”
“How?” Ayenga inquired, still not convinced by Diaz’s plan. “And who are we going to use to bait the trap?”
The wicked grin returning to her face, Sabrina replied, “The Lissepians maintain a mining operation at one of M-294’s Trojan points that they’ve been working for several years—it’s a small, but lucrative operation selling rare earths and other metals and minerals to the Cardassian colonists in the Border Area”
“I’m surprised we haven’t hit it already.” Paul observed with a faint note of suspicion as he leaned forward in his chair, “How long have you known about this, Sabrina?”
“For a while now.” The former Starfleet officer admitted, “We haven’t hit it yet for the simple reason that we’ve had other—bigger—fish to fry. And…” she added with a frown, “…because even though they’re selling to the Cardassians, the Lissepians are technically neutral and we’ve been trying to avoid overly pissing off Starfleet. Now…” She said, her frown narrowing to a thin line, “…we can kill three birds with one stone. We can knock out the Lissepian operation, get our people back, and send a strong message to Starfleet to back the hell off—or else.”
“Ok, assuming for now that we go along with your plan…” The dark skinned Maquis leader replied, nodding his head slowly, “How do you propose we pull this off?”
“First, Paul…your wing will…” As Sabrina outlined her plan, sly grins appeared on the faces of both her fellow cell leaders. Concluding her presentation, the ex-captain asked, “Any questions?”
“No.” Ayenga replied, “I think we’ve got everything.” Her voice now taking on a more crafty tone, the Bajoran woman added, “You do realize you’re going to owe us big for this, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Diaz answered back with a frown, “I know.” Exhaling, the lithe woman snapped, “Ok, if there’re no other questions, let’s get to work.”
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Dashing off the transporter pad of her personal raider as soon as she rematerialized, Ayenga made her way to the control cabin of the converted
Peregrine-class courier. Leaning over, she whispered into the ear of the Bajoran man who served as her second in command and part-time lover, “Go on back to engineering and make sure that Banan gets all the info on the modifications Diaz wants done with the engines. Have him double check everything before he does a single thing—I don’t want any unwelcome surprises.”
“Right, Ayenga.” Ral Omkar answered back as he got up out of his chair.
Waiting until the door closed behind the auburn haired Bajoran, Ayenga pressed a button on her console. Smirking as the deceptively boyish looking visage of Daras Tabor appeared on the tiny console monitor, the Bajoran woman reported, “Diaz is taking the bait—just as you figured she would.”
“Excellent.” The terrorist leader grinned, “You understand what you’re supposed to do?”
“Of course.” Ayenga replied with a sly grin, “I’m to cause maximum confusion…”
“And as high a body count as possible.” Tabor finished, adding, “And don’t forget…”
“I know…” Ayenga interjected, barely hiding her irritation at the patronizing tone of her superior, “…don’t forget to leave the package.”
“Right.” Tabor affirmed, seemingly ignoring the barely hidden note of insubordination coming from the slender Ayenga. “Good hunting.” He exclaimed as he cut off the transmission.
“Frinxing son of a vole.” Ayenga muttered under her breath as she activated the intercom, “Omkar? What does Banan say about those mods?”
“He says they should work.” Ral answered back.
“Good.” Ayenga grinned, “Tell him to go ahead and implement them then and transmit the word to the others to do the same to their ships. I’m going to catch a few hours sleep before we get underway.”
Leaning back in her chair, the former medical technician closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep as memories of her time working for Crell Moset in the labor camps, assisting in his experiments on her fellow Bajorans, rushed unbidden through her dreams, causing her to wake up a few hours later in a cold sweat. “Damn.” Ayenga swore to herself as she felt the clammy wetness on her lap, seat, clothes, and flesh. “Prophets dammit.” She sobbed, “I did it again.”
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USS Sutherland
“…be ready to greet your child with open arms when they return. Any time my daughter seeks reconciliation then I shall be there waiting for her.”
“Bullshit!” Captain Elizabeth Shelby spat out as she punched a button on her desk, turning off the replay of her father’s news conference. “Frinxing liar!” She growled, so angry that she at first missed hearing the chime announcing someone was at her door. “What is it?” She snapped, activating her intercom.
“Commander Hobson, Sir.” The voice of her first officer answered back, “We were supposed to meet to discuss current events.”
Remembering their scheduled appointment, the blonde captain replied, “Oh…of course, come in, Commander.”
Pausing as he entered the ready room, Hobson debated as to whether to proceed any further as he saw Captain Shelby in the subdued lighting, sitting behind her desk with a stack of padds and mug of coffee before her, an agitated look on her face. “Sir? I can return later if this isn’t a good time.”
“No. That’s all right, Commander.” Looking up, Liz, forcing herself out of her funk, made a face as she sipped her now cold coffee, “Come in. And while you’re up, would you mind getting me a cup of coffee—cream, no sugar—and something for yourself as well.”
“Of course, Captain.” Chris acknowledged, ordering the captain’s coffee as well as a cup of Darjeeling tea for himself. Handing the mug to the petite Shelby, Hobson took his regular seat on the other side of the desk from her, remaining politely quiet until the blonde woman sitting across from him chose to speak.
“Ah…” Shelby sighed appreciatively as she took a sip of her drink, “That’s much better. I might actually live through this.” She quipped, forcing a smile to her face as she gestured at the pile of padds stacked before her. “See what the future holds for you, Commander?” Her smile vanishing, she said, totally blocking out of her mind the recent newscast of her father, “I spoke with Admiral Glover a few hours ago. He’s pleased with our progress to date and instructs us to go on to Deep Space Nine and coordinate further with Ben and Odo.”
“Understood, Sir.” Hobson laconically replied, following his captain’s nonverbal cues and keeping to the subject at hand, “I’ve also updated the ship’s security protocols to prevent someone from repeating what I and Mr. Atoa were able to do.”
“Good.” Liz grinned, her face flushing just the slightest. “I have to admit, it’s going to be a pain having to deal with the ribbing I’m going to catch from some of my fellow captains for letting my former chief of security just walk away with a runabout.”
“Why?” Chris asked, “Have you heard from any of them?”
“Not yet.” Liz replied, shaking her head. “Picard won’t say anything…” she chuckled, “…’cause he doesn’t have much room to talk. And Ben knows the score. But…” she sighed as she took another sip of coffee, “I have a feeling when Terrence finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it from him.”
“Probably not.” The smallest crease of a smile crossed Hobson’s face as he sipped his own hot drink. “Unfortunately…” He remarked in a dry tone, “…that is the price that is paid in these types of operations.”
Giving her first officer an appraising gaze, Shelby probed in a quiet, yet earnest tone, “You seem to have a fair amount of experience in this sort of thing—more than your record indicates, Commander.” Her eyes not wavering from those of the man sitting before her, Liz continued, “Commander…Chris…as I’m sure you’re aware…” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, “…we all have things we’d rather not talk about for one reason or another. Out of respect for your privacy and because I realize that if you were involved in Intelligence, your activities might be classified, I’ve refrained from directly inquiring as to that possible part of your service.”
“Thank you, Sir…” Hobson began only to be quickly interrupted.
“But…” Shelby interjected, brushing aside a lock of golden blonde hair, “…if those activities should ever affect anything involving the Sutherland or its crew…”
“I promise you, Captain.” Chris solemnly swore, “That I will not allow this ship, its captain, or its crew to come into danger because of anything I might have done or been involved in that occurred in the past. You have my word.”
Seeing the look of absolute earnestness in her first officer’s face, Liz nodded her head once, “That’s good enough for me, Chris.” Shaking her head, the captain picked up a padd. “Thanks for your honesty.”
Picking up on his captain’s non-verbal cues, Hobson nodding his head in response, stood up. “By your leave, Sir, I’ll return to the bridge.” Taking Shelby’s nod of the head as affirmation, the normally icy commander’s face cracked just a little as he turned away, “Thank you, Captain.”
Watching as her first officer walked out the door, Liz muttered
sotto voce, “Just don’t disappoint me, Chris.”
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“Everything is proceeding according to plan, Dmitri.” Daras Tabor declared, smirking at the image of the human appearing on his monitor. “Sabrina Diaz provides the perfect distraction for our operation.”
“Very good.” Dmitri Cherenkov replied, “Supreme Devok and Gul Rejak will be pleased.”
“I could care less about Rejak.” The Kon Ma leader spat before quickly adding in a conciliatory tone, “But I am glad that the Supreme is pleased with our progress.”
“You really must learn to at least appear gracious towards your allies…” the Terra Nova native reproved, “It’s bad for business—especially when their assistance is a vital component of your plan’s success.”
“You’re right, of course.” Tabor began and then countered, “But you should also remember that soon I will be in the position to reward my friends and allies.”
“Of course...” Cherenkov smiled indulgently, “…the Supreme seeks nothing but the friendship of true Bajorans such as you.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” The Bajoran terrorist replied smugly. “Tell your people we will distribute the Corillan acid to our connections and they will have their cut of the profits soon.”
“Excellent.” Dmitri grinned, “Once payment is received, you will receive the rest of the shipment.” His grin widening, the Syndicate intermediary opined, “That should give you what you need to do what you want to do.”
“It will indeed.” Tabor smirked, “It will indeed.”
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Federation Runabout Moselle
Sitting at the pilot’s seat of the
Danube-class runabout listening to the rockabilly tune performed by the time displaced musician L. Q. ‘Sonny’ Clemonds rescued several years ago by the USS Enterprise along with Ambassador Offenhouse and one other cryogenically frozen person from the early 21st century, Manuele Atoa pondered his options. “I don’t know…” He said to himself as he called up Sabrina Diaz’s record, ordering the computer to display it on the tiny monitor on the pilot’s console. “Deep Space Nine is the last chance Diaz has to pull a rescue, but it’s also a very hard nut to crack. She has to know that Constable Odo and Captain Sisko will be expecting an attack. Also, she has a history of pulling off the unexpected and has a reputation for being something of a riverboat gambler when she has to be. That’s why I think she’s going to pull something before the
Bluefin even gets to DS9. Computer…” The New Kauaian ordered, “Put up on the main viewer the projected course of the
Bluefin.
As the starry display gave way to a map with the Star Station Echo and Deep Space Nine displayed in green and the
Bluefin showing as a flashing pale blue image, Manuele nodded his head. “Now, give me a rundown on all the systems within a five light year radius of the
Bluefin’s route.” As the computer delivered its report, the undercover security officer walked over to the replicator. Picking up the cola that he ordered, Manuele quietly listened as the computer continued to drone on until…
System M-294: F5 class star. Possesses a hot Jupiter planetary companion in close orbit and two asteroid belts rich in a variety of mineral resources. Currently, a small Lissepian mining operation has a base of operations within the system.
“Computer…” Atoa interjected, raising his hand, “Display a detailed display of System M-294, centered on the mining base.” As the computer complied with his request, Manuele studied the image on his viewscreen, a sly grin slowly appearing on his face. “That’s the spot.” He muttered under his breath. Raising his voice, he then ordered, “Computer, set course for System M-294…maximum warp.”
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USS Bluefin
“How are our prisoners?” Captain Akinola, tapping his comm badge, asked CPO Deryx, currently serving as acting Chief of the Boat of the border cutter
Bluefin.
“Quiet as you please.” The Denobulan Chief responded, “The Bzzit Khaht is reading and the other guy’s racked out.”
“Good.” Akinola grunted, “Let’s hope it stays this way.” Touching his comm badge again, the captain called for his Chief Engineer, “Mr. Gralt? How’s work proceeding on those engines?”
“I’ll be done in thirty minutes…” The gruff Tellarite engineer answered back, “…maybe twenty. That is if I’m not constantly interrupted by people asking me how long it’s going to take to get them done.”
His lips curling up in a slight smile, the dark skinned gray haired captain replied, “Duly noted, Mr. Gralt.” Catching the smirk appearing on his Vulcan operations officer’s face, Joseph inquired, raising an eyebrow, “Something funny, Mr. T’Ser?”
“No, Sir.” The lithe Vulcan quickly responded, her smile vanishing. “All sections report normal.
“Good.” Akinola replied as he turned to his executive officer, “Dale…I want you to run another battle drill. This time assume that all senior officers with the exception of yourself are incapacitated—I want to see how the junior officers respond when they’re on their own.”
“Aye, Sir.” The Texas born first officer responded. However, just as he was about to issue the orders to begin the simulation, Lieutenant T’Ser looked up from her console.
“Captain?” The Seattle born Vulcan called out, “I’m receiving a distress call from a Lissepian mining operation in system M-294.” Quickly putting a tactical display of the system on the main viewscreen, she continued, “They report that they are under attack by Maquis raiders—at least three. They’re holding their own for now, but they say they won’t be able to last long.”
“How long until we reach that system?” Captain Akinola asked, addressing his helmsman
“Approximately fifteen minutes at maximum warp, Sir.” The youthful Bolian sitting at the helm, Ensign Bralus, quickly responded.
Yellow alert. Captain Akinola immediately ordered. As the green light on the alert display turned amber, the captain addressed his helmsman, “Set course for system M-234, maximum warp.” The hum of the engines picking up in intensity with the sudden increase in speed, the captain tapped his comm badge, once again hailing his chief engineer. “I want those impulse engines ready in ten minutes, Mr. Gralt.” Forestalling the inevitable outburst from his prickly engineer, Joseph steamrollered, “And this time without the usual back and forth.”
The alert Tellarite, immediately picking up on the grave tenor in his captain’s voice, answered back with a simple and quick, “Aye, Sir. They’ll be ready.” Turning to his crew, the chief engineer swore, “All right—you heard the Captain. So unless you want to be cleaning the waste reclamation units for the next six months you’ll get those engines ready on time! Now…Move!” Watching in satisfaction as his crew moved, Gralt evaluated the display on his console.
Maybe…he thought, his mind racing
…if we tweak the impulse manifold by .3 dekajoules, we might be able to boost efficiency a couple of percentage points higher. Might not amount to much…but then again, it might make a difference. Quickly coming to a decision, the gruff Tellarite called out to two of his most able assistants, “Chandler…Ahksun…get your asses over here.” As two figures wearing fatigue coveralls and PO3 rating insignia on their shoulders approached, a chestnut haired human male and a sandy blonde haired Acamarian female, her left cheek tattooed with an elaborate filigree pattern, Lieutenant Commander Gralt grunted, “About time you showed up. I want the two of you…” he instructed as he pointed at the display on his console, “…to get your bulbous rear ends over to the impulse manifolds and jack their output up another .3 dekajoules each.”
“Aye, Sir.” Both petty officers responding quickly, picked up their tools and rushed out to carry out their assignment.
As the chief engineer watched them go, a slight smile crossed his face, “I’m going to have to see about putting them in for a promotion next time I talk to the Old Man or the XO—they’ve earned it.” Turning about to address the rest of his crew, the crusty Tellarite picked up his tools as he barked out, “We’ve got ten minutes, let’s get a move on you slobs!”
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“Sir?” The
Sutherland’s new acting tactical chief, Lieutenant Nyota Dryer, called out from her position at tactical, “I’m receiving a distress call from system M-294. They are under attack from Maquis raiders. Receiving another communication.” She further reported, “The border cutter
USS Bluefin is responding.”
“Time to response for the
Bluefin?” Captain Shelby asked, taking the center chair just vacated by her first officer. “And how long will it take for us to arrive should they need help?”
“The
Bluefin should be there in approximately fifteen minutes, Sir at their current speed.” The ebony skinned security specialist promptly replied. “As for us…if we go to maximum warp, we can be there in twenty.”
“Do it.” Shelby directed as her senior helmsman punched in the coordinates for their destination into his console. As the
Nebula-class starship raced towards its destination, the petite captain, seeing the questioning look on her first officer’s face, cracked a smile. “Nothing against Captain Akinola…” Shelby remarked, “…but he doesn’t know who he’s up against here. While I’m sure he’s read up on Sabrina and even realizes that he’s walking into a trap, I don’t think he fully understands just how cunning—and how ruthless—she can be. He probably thinks that there’s still a core of Starfleet in her. Maybe he’s right…” Liz conceded, “…but she’s also incredibly loyal to her people and right now he’s the one holding them. Once she decides she’s going to get them back, she’ll do whatever it takes to do that. I have a feeling it’s not going to take long before Akinola finds himself in way over his head.”
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System M-294
“We’ve got a ship dropping out of warp.” Nashoba reported from his place of concealment in the outer asteroid belt. “
Albacore-class. Moving towards your position.” The bronze skinned, dark haired Comanche, a colonist from Dorval V, added.
“You called it, Bri…” Paul Santos called from his position in the nearer asteroid belt. “He’s coming in on full impulse.”
“Ok, everyone…” Sabrina Diaz ordered as she pulled her raider up from its strafing run on the Lissepian mining operation, the base’s shields glowing yellow as the modified courier’s phasers, firing at only three-quarters intensity, impacted. “Remember to stick to the plan. Keep your weapons at low intensity for now. We don’t want to destroy the base—yet.”
“Gotcha, Boss…” Danyor Krakke answered back as he and the raider flown by the Alshain, Rof, began their strafing runs. “Don’t ruin the flypaper.”
“You got it, Danyor.” Sabrina chuckled as she lined her ship up for another run.
“Estimate he’ll be on your position in two minutes.” Santos declared as he monitored the progress of the border cutter.
Cracking a grin as the rest of her team completed their attack runs, Sabrina commed her people one more time, “Pay attention everyone and you’ll see why I was such a bitch about you putting in those mods on your engines and weapons systems."
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“That hot Jupiter’s putting out a lot of radiation.” T’Ser growled from her position at Ops. “It’s really screwing up my sensor readings.”
“Adjust the best you can.” Captain Akinola instructed as he gazed intently on the main viewscreen. “Weapons, raise shields, load up with Mark 22 torpedoes and bring phasers on line. Helm…” The captain further instructed, turning his attention to the young Bolian in the pilot’s seat, “…if we’re going into what I think we’re going into, I’m going to need you to execute your maneuvers smartly.”
“Aye, Sir.” The young ensign currently manning the weapons console acknowledged, “Torpedoes and phasers ready.”
“Understood, Sir.” Ensign Bralus replied, his heart beating rapidly as he licked dry lips.
“Don’t worry, Ensign…” Joseph remarked in a grandfatherly voice, “Just concentrate on the job and you’ll do just fine.”
“Got ‘em!” T’Ser called out as the image of the asteroid housing the Lissepian base came into focus. Along with the base, Akinola made out three
Peregrine couriers, converted by the Maquis into raiders, carrying out strafing attacks on the installation.
“Challenge the raiders and order them to stand down.” The
Bluefin’s captain ordered as he leaned forward in his seat.
“They’re ignoring us.” The lithe Vulcan operations officer replied, shaking her head.
“We’re in weapons range.” Ensign Goldman at tactical reported.
“Fire!” Akinola ordered, his eyes riveted to the screen as two Mark 22 torpedoes launched themselves from the
Bluefin. Moments later, following the flash of light indicating a successful detonation, the dark skinned captain grinned in satisfaction as he saw the three raiders, powerless, drifting in space. “Move us in closer.” The captain ordered as he punched the intercom button on his chair arm, “Chief Deryx? You and your team take a Super Stallion and pick up the crew of those raiders.” Turning his attention back to his operations officer, Joseph further directed, “Keep an eye out, T’Ser…I’ve got a feeling this isn’t over yet.”
Before his Vulcan officer could acknowledge his order, the
Bluefin shook with such force that it almost knocked the Nigerian captain off his feet.
“Three more raiders on attack vector.” Ensign Goldman reported as the ship shook again.
“Return fire.” Akinola ordered as phaser fire lanced out from the
Bluefin’s turrets, the blue beams impacting harmlessly on the Maquis raiders’ shields.
“They’re breaking for the asteroid belt.” Goldman announced as the
Bluefin fired again at the fleeing corsairs.
“Are you sure those raiders are dead in space?” Captain Akinola, turning once again to his operations officer, inquired, referring to the three ships that had been strafing the station.
“Aye, Sir.” T’Ser reported, “No signs of emissions coming from them.”
“Shall we pursue, Sir?” Commander McBride asked.
“No…” Akinola replied, shaking his head, “They’re trying to draw us off—there’s probably another wing of raiders waiting for us in the asteroid belt. In any event, we can’t risk leaving the Lissepians undefended.”
*********************************************************************
Smirking as she saw the
Albacore-class border cutter hovering in place from her place of concealment near an asteroid at one of the gas giant’s Trojan points, Ayenga clicked her comm switch once, signaling her wing to prepare to begin its attack run as Santos’ group turned about to make another run of their own.
“The raiders are coming about, Captain.” T’Ser reported as the three
Peregrines grew larger in the viewscreen.
“Fire Mark 22s.” Akinola ordered as the EMP torpedoes took off towards their targets.
“Just like Sabrina said.” Santos grinned as he saw the torpedoes racing towards his team. “Remember the plan.” The Maquis leader said, speaking to his attack wing, “When they go off, kill all your systems—do not correct for drift—understood.”
“Right, Boss.” Rebekah Ha’aretz, a colonist from Dayan, replied just before the torpedoes detonated.
**********************************************************************
“Got ‘em!” Goldman called out triumphantly, “They’re drifting.”
“No readings?” Akinola asked, turning once again to his operations officer, receiving in reply a shake of her head.
“You think something’s up?” The
Bluefin’s first officer asked as, leaning over the lovely Vulcan’s shoulder, he double checked her readings.
“I don’t know…” Joseph replied, shaking his head, “…this is has all been just a little too easy.”
“They probably didn’t anticipate us having Mark 22s.” Dale remarked with a shrug of his shoulders, “After all, the Regular Fleet rarely—if ever—uses them. Diaz probably just didn’t factor them into her calculations. Hell…” He exclaimed with his Texas drawl, “If we hadn’t of had them, we’d be neck deep in alligators now.”
“Maybe…” Akinola conceded, stroking his chin, “But that’s not the impression I got from reading her record. Still…” He said with a sigh, “…we’re going to have to get those Maquis out of their ships before their life support runs out and I’m not going to risk lowering our shields to beam them to the brig.” Taking a deep breath, the captain activated his intercom, “Chief, get a second Stallion and team ready to go to pick up the crew from that other wing.”
“Aye, Sir.” The Denobulan CPO acknowledged, “Both teams will be away in sixty seconds.”
************************************************************************
Entering system M-294, Atoa immediately recognized the flashes of phaser fire as well as the explosions of the Mark 22 torpedoes. Ordering the computer to mask emissions, the Sutherland security officer coasted his tiny runabout into the near asteroid belt, seeking cover by a mineral rich rock. “Now…” He said softly, “We wait.”
***********************************************************************
Watching from her darkened cockpit as the two Super Stallions departed the
Bluefin’s shuttle bay, one headed towards where Santos’ wing lay drifting and the other headed her way, Sabrina Diaz flashed a sly grin.
So far, Captain Akinola, you’ve done everything that I thought you would. Feeling a brief twinge of regret, the former Starfleet officer whispered in a barely audible voice, “I wish I could just ask you to give my people back, Captain Akinola. You’re probably a really nice guy and a great captain, but…” her face hardening, the raven haired Maquis leader watched as the Super Stallions entered her web, “…you’d probably say no—and I am going to get my people back.” Seeing that the
Bluefin’s rescue craft were now in position, Sabrina, activating her comm, uttered a single word, “Now.”
At once, the supposedly dead raiders sprang into life, their phasers lancing at the Stallions’ engines. Jostled out of his seat from the impact, Chief Deryx called out, “Coxswain! Get us back to the
Bluefin!”
“Sorry, Chief!” The blonde petty officer called back, “They knocked out engines and weapons with that hit and our armor’s down to 25%. They hit us again, we’re vaped!”
Ayenga’s wing, striking from their position, concealed thanks to the massive electromagnetic emissions put out by the hot Jupiter, struck the
Bluefin, targeting its deflector shields, weapons turrets, and warp nacelles. “Grab ‘em by their belt loops and pour it on! Don’t let up!” She shouted into her comm unit as she and her team maintained their attack, hugging in close to the border cutter.
“Shields are almost down, Cap…Ahhhh!” Goldman cried out as her console exploded, showering the hapless ensign in a cascade of sparks and shrapnel.
“Dammit!” McBride cursed as, grabbing a fire extinguisher, he quickly put out the fire as one of Dr. Baxter’s med techs rushed to the downed security officer. Looking up into the captain’s eyes, the young corpsman shook his head ruefully as he closed the deceased ensign’s eyes.
“Ayenga!” Diaz called out as she and her wing raced to join the Bajoran terrorists, “Have two of your wingmen break off and deal with the mining base while we get our people back. Santos! You and your people keep an eye on the Stallions—if it comes down to it, we’ll trade them for Larkin and Nura.”
“Understood!” The Bajoran answered back, “Tohan…Omkar…eat up the Lissepians…” Changing frequency, she added, “You know my orders.”
“Right!” Her two wingmen answered back, firing one last volley at the stricken
Bluefin as they peeled off.
Smiling in satisfaction as she lined up her shot, Ayenga purred as she tapped the fire button on her console, “You’re all mine, Feddie.”
Striking true, Ayenga’s shot pierced the weakened rear shield of the Federation cutter, striking the left warp nacelle.
“We’re venting plasma, Captain!” Lieutenant Gralt called out, as, staggering to his feet, he assisted one of his crewmen back to his feet. “Warp engines off line!”
“Do we have weapons, T’Ser?” Akinola asked, turning to his operations officer.
“I can give you turret number two, Captain. I think I can divert some of the extra power Mr. Gralt’s people were able to coax out of the impulse engines.” The Vulcan woman quickly replied.
“Fire!” The Nigerian captain ordered. “And remind me to give Mr. Gralt a bonus next payday," He added, a slight smile of relief crossing his face as his confidence was, for the moment, restored.
Her aim true, the phaser beam struck Diaz’s raider. “Direct hit, Captain.” T’Ser smiled, “Enemy raider is venting life support.”
“Damn!” Diaz cursed under her breath as she switched to her suit’s life support. Activating her comm badge, she ordered, “Danyor…Rof…if I don’t make it, continue the attack. Knock out that weapons turret and force the exchange.”
“Right, Bri!” Krakke replied, ordering the rest of the attack wing, “Continue attack.” Switching frequencies, Danyor hailed the
Bluefin. “Attention Federation starship. We have your Stallions and their crews under our weapons. Unless you cease fire immediately and prepare to beam your prisoners over to us, we will destroy the Stallions. You have thirty seconds to respond.”
“Sir.” Lieutenant T’Ser interjected, “He’s telling the truth. Both Stallions have raiders standing off them at point blank range. There’s no way we can destroy those raiders before they fire and if we drop our shields to beam the crews aboard…”
“The raiders hugging us will tear us a new one.” Akinola finished. Gritting his teeth, he ordered, “Cease fire. Let’s see if we can buy some time for Mr. Gralt to make some repairs.”
************************************************************************
“Captain?” Lieutenant Dryer called out from her position at tactical, “I’m picking up weapons fire in system.”
“I’d say the
Bluefin and Sabrina Diaz have made each others’ acquaintance.” Captain Shelby remarked as she leaned forward in her chair. “Red Alert.” As the klaxon rang and the red light signaling general quarters blinked, the captain ordered, “Take us in, Mr. Lavelle. Mr. Dryer, I want all weapons ready to go on my order.”
“Aye, Sir.” Both officers responded, their adrenaline pumping as the
Nebula-class vessel rushed towards the battle.
***********************************************************************
Picking up on the
Sutherland’s entry into the system, Manuele saw his chance. Speaking on the same Maquis frequency used by Diaz, the New Kauaian made his entrance. “Sabrina Diaz. Listen to me. You’ve got a
Nebula-class ship closing in on you. I can get you and your people out, but you’re going to have to do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it.”
“Who are you?” Sabrina snapped, her voice edged with both anger and suspicion.
“There’s time for that later!” Manuele fired back. “You’re going to have to decide and decide now. Do you want to take your chances with me or with that Nebbie closing in on you?”
“All right!” The former starship captain, “We’ll do it your way. But I’m warning you…” Diaz growled, “If this is a double cross, I’ll gut you if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Understood.” Manuele replied, “Now…I want you to tell your people to break off and leave the system.”
“What?” Sabrina all but shouted into her comm unit, “You must think I’m frinxing crazy!”
“Do it!” Atoa yelled back, “I figure you’ve got sixty seconds before that ship is in weapons range.”
“Sabrina…” Danyor, switching to another frequency, interjected, “Whoever he is, he’s lying. We’ve got the Feds right where we want them.”
“Probably.” Diaz agreed as she fingered the hand phaser at her hip, “But for now, we’ll do as he says—but not the way he thinks. I want you and Rof to return to the base and wait further orders. If you don’t hear from me within six hours—execute Plan Omega.”
“Right, Bri.” Krakke reluctantly acknowledged as he relayed his leader’s instructions to his wingman.
Watching as her two wingmen broke off, Sabrina addressed the others in the attack force, “Break off and leave system—now!” Addressing Atoa, the former starship captain declared, “All right, whoever you are, I’ve done as you’ve said. You better not be lying.”
“I’m not.” Manuele answered back as he powered up the
Moselle. “Just be ready when it hits the fan.”
“Time to leave our packages.” Ayenga smirked as she and the rest of her wing launched their tri-cobalt warheads at the now defenseless mining installation. Smiling in satisfaction as the Lissepian outpost exploded in flash of light, the Bajoran terrorist pressed a button on her console, ejecting a small cylinder from the rear of her raider. “All right, people…let’s get out of here.”
**********************************************************************
“Captain!” T’Ser called out, her face reflecting her shock, “The mining base…it’s been destroyed.” Turning her attention back again to her scanner, her voice now took on a tone of relief, “The raiders are breaking off their attack. I’m picking up a Federation runabout—
Danube-class—closing fast; and a starship,
Nebula-class, within system.”
“That explains why they broke off their attack.” Akinola sighed dejectedly, cursing himself for falling into Diaz's trap. “Raise the runabout.”
“It’s the runabout,
Moselle.” T’Ser immediately responded, “Lieutenant Manuele Atoa commanding. He says that he was sent by Captain Shelby in case we needed immediate assistance.”
“Well…” The gray haired captain admitted, “We certainly do need that. Ask him if he has any medical personnel…Dr. Baxter can use all the help he can get.”
**********************************************************************
“Understood,
Bluefin.” Manuele acknowledged as the computer locked on to all three of his intended passengers. “Transporting now.” With that, he activated the transporter, watching in satisfaction as Sabrina Diaz, along with Larkin and Nura, materialized in the runabout’s tiny transporter room. “Computer.” The New Kauaian ordered as Diaz, drawing her weapon, pointed it at Atoa’s chest, “Take us out—maximum warp. Atoa One.”
Maintaining his calm as he glanced down at the hand phaser pointed at him, Manuele cracked a slight grin, “Welcome aboard, Ms. Diaz. Before you get any ideas, the computer’s locked to my voice command and it’s currently on a course that will take us straight to Deep Space Nine. You’ll find that there’s no way you’ll be able to unlock it before it reaches its destination. Now…the way I see it, you can shoot me—in which case you’ll all end up prisoners once again when you get to DS9; or, you can tear the ship apart trying to unlock the controls—in which case we’ll all die; or…we can talk. The next move’s yours.”
********************************************************************
Looking on in shocked astonishment as Larkin and Nura disappeared in the shimmering blue glow of a Federation transporter, Commander McBride hit his comm badge, “Captain? We have a problem. The prisoners have been transported off the ship.”
“The
Moselle’s just warped out!” T’Ser called out from her station, her voice also filled with disbelief.
Shaking his head in dejection, Joseph declared flatly, “We’re in no condition to pursue.” Taking a deep breath, he inquired, “How are we?”
“Weapons except for number two turret are down.” T’Ser replied, “Warp engines are out. We have impulse and life support.”
“Casualties?” Akinola asked, steeling himself for the grim news.
“Dr. Baxter reports three killed in action, thirteen injured.” T’Ser reported in a somber tone, “Chief Deryx reports one KIA on his Stallion, three wounded. Petty Officer Franks reports one KIA, two injured.” As the Nebula-class starship appeared on the
Bluefin’s main viewer, T’Ser announced, “The
Sutherland’s hailing us, Sir.”
“Main viewer.” Joseph ordered in an equally grave voice.
The debris filled starry image on the main screen disappeared to be replaced by an image of the
Sutherland’s bridge, her blonde captain sitting on the center seat. “Captain Akinola?” Liz inquired, receiving by way of affirmation Joseph’s slow nod of the head, “I’m sorry…we got here as fast as we could. I have medical and repair crews ready to beam over to help get you up and running and we can tow you to Deep Space Nine where they can complete repairs.”
“While we appreciate the assistance, Captain, and will most certainly accept any help you can give us…” Joseph demurred in a gravelly tone, his expression a stony mask, “We don’t need the tow. We’re more than capable of making it to Deep Space Nine on our own once we get our engines back on line.”
“Captain.” Liz countered with a polite smile, “While I have no doubt as to the capabilities of your ship and crew, to be honest, you’re in no condition to go it alone. Your warp engines are out…almost all your weapons are down…your deflector emitter is seriously damaged. You couldn’t stand up to a single raider right now…much less a wolfpack.”
“She has a point, Sir.” The
Bluefin’s executive officer, dashing on to the bridge in time to hear Shelby’s words, remarked to his captain in a low voice, “Even with repairs, we’re in no condition for a standup fight right now.”
Reluctantly conceding his first officer’s point, Joseph, turned his attention back to the blonde captain on his screen, “Very well, Captain.” Forcing the words out of his mouth, the grizzled border skipper added, “Thank you for the assist.”
“You’re welcome.” Liz replied, maintaining her polite smile, “My people are ready to beam over whenever you give the word. Also…” Shelby added, “I’ve taken the liberty of beaming your people in the Stallions on to the
Sutherland. They’re currently in our sickbay and will be beamed back to your ship once Dr. Murakawa says it’s Ok.”
“Thanks again, Captain.” Joseph answered back, his anger at her not notifying him first as to her actions concerning his stranded crewmen quickly giving way to relief that they were getting the care they needed. “I appreciate it and would like to see them once things get situated better here.”
“By all means, Captain.” Shelby responded, “You’re welcome aboard and I look forward to seeing you.”
As the image of the
Sutherland’s bridge faded away to once again be replaced by the starry night, Captain Akinola turned to his first officer, “Dale, I’ll leave it to you to get with Shelby’s people and see that they get to where they need to go. I’m going to take a tour of the ship and then get to work on the after action report.” As he walked off the bridge, Joseph Akinola sighed. For the first time, the grey-haired captain felt old.
“Aye, Sir.” The Texas born XO replied watching with concern as his captain left the bridge.
“Will he be all right, Sir?” Lieutenant T’Ser asked, her voice edged with worry.
“Yeah…I think so…I hope so…” McBride answered back, shaking his head, “He’s mad. Not at any of us though.” The first officer amended, “He blames himself for what happened. There’s an old saying, T’Ser…” The roguishly handsome Texan said in his usual drawl, only this time tinged with a note of sadness, “Some days you get the bear and some days the bear gets you. Well, today…” Dale concluded somberly, “The bear got us.”
Great crew interaction in this chapter, with more to follow.
