“I don’t like this,” Chief Petty Officer Sean ‘Keeper’ Dalton muttered, giving the airlock a dubious look.
Dekelley eyed the master-arms, a phase-pistol holstered on the left hip and an anti-phase vest on full display. Crewman Wong and Petty Officer Casey were similarly dressed. It was not ideal, but he wasn't taking any chances.
“What’s there to like, Chief?” he asked.
“I’d be happier if you stayed back aboard Arvakure,” replied Dalton.
Dekelley grinned at the master-at-arms. He had heard that argument before. “And where does it say in the captain’s handbook that I have to let the crew have all the fun, Chief?” he asked, shrugging.
“You’re a high value target,” Dalton pointed out.
“Would you rather have Arez or Ciara lead the boarding party?”
Dalton frowned. “Not the point.”
“No, then what is your point, Chief?” asked Dekelley, raising a forestalling hand. “May I remind you that I was the head of Jupiter Station’s armory department before this, and led the Starfleet detachment at our embassy on Vulcan. I know my guns, Chief. Heck, I even know how to point it and shoot.”
Dalton looked back, his expression one of annoyance. It made Dekelley feel good. The last thing he ever wanted was a ‘yes man’ for the master-at-arms. The fact that Dalton was the highest ranked non-commissioned officer also made him the de facto Chief of the Boat–well, it would have been if Starfleet used that rank instead of a warrant officer-centric Boatswain.
“Tell you what, if there is going to be shooting, I'll make sure Ambler’s my shield.” Dekelley grinned at Dalton.
The chief opened his mouth.
“Docking complete, Commander,” interjected Ensign Furry, giving him an odd look.
Dekelley nodded to the junior officer, indicating that Furry to the lead as per regulations, which stated that armory personnel always cleared the way during boarding actions. Furry cycled the airlock, moving aside and letting Dalton take point. The chief stepped through.
“Clear!” Dalton called out a short minute later.
Dekelley nodded, and was the next person through. There were three individuals in addition to Dalton. Dekelley smiled. “Top of the morning, gentlemen!”
“You must be Captain Dekelley?”The one in the middle offered his hand. “Colm O’Brian, captain and owner of this fine vessel.”
Dekelley took the offered hand, noting Colm’s firm grip. The man was no slouch. “Thank you for having us, Captain. With me are Chief Dalton, whom you’ve met, Ensign Furry -”
Colm raised an eyebrow as he offered his hand to the ensign. “Furry, huh? Hell of an odd name, mate!”
“It has Irish origins,” grumbled Furry, a bemused look passing.
“Well, I'll try not to hold that against you,” offered Colm with a smile.
Dekelley smiled back. If his predecessor’s hunch was correct and O’Brian was running a criminal enterprise within Deneva, then Arrowtown’s captain would have kept tabs on all Starfleet personnel within the star system.
“So, I hear that something attacked you out here?” asked Dekelley.
“Oh, aye!” Colm nodded enthusiastically. “Came at us out of nowhere!”
“And what were you doing this far out?” Dalton demanded. “The Reef’s not in the normal space lanes.”
Colm looked at the chief with an air of innocence. “Would you believe me that we were surveying for dilithium deposits?”
“Not really,” replied Dalton, one hand resting on the holstered phase-pistol.
Giving the chief a sideways glance, Dekelley turned back to Colm. “I believe the Deneva authorities are aware of this,” he said, not bothering to add that the Starfleet Corps of Engineers were planning to deploy a refinery and mining ships in the next year or two.
“It’s in our records, we were contracted by the Tellarite Mining Consortium.”
“Right,” hissed Dalton.
“I’m sure you can clarify back at the station, Captain,” said Dekelley.
“Station?” asked Colm.
“Deneva Station, Captain,” replied Dekelley, smiling. “We have questions, for which you have answers. But that’s for later. In the interim, we need to see what struck you.”
Dekelley eyed the master-arms, a phase-pistol holstered on the left hip and an anti-phase vest on full display. Crewman Wong and Petty Officer Casey were similarly dressed. It was not ideal, but he wasn't taking any chances.
“What’s there to like, Chief?” he asked.
“I’d be happier if you stayed back aboard Arvakure,” replied Dalton.
Dekelley grinned at the master-at-arms. He had heard that argument before. “And where does it say in the captain’s handbook that I have to let the crew have all the fun, Chief?” he asked, shrugging.
“You’re a high value target,” Dalton pointed out.
“Would you rather have Arez or Ciara lead the boarding party?”
Dalton frowned. “Not the point.”
“No, then what is your point, Chief?” asked Dekelley, raising a forestalling hand. “May I remind you that I was the head of Jupiter Station’s armory department before this, and led the Starfleet detachment at our embassy on Vulcan. I know my guns, Chief. Heck, I even know how to point it and shoot.”
Dalton looked back, his expression one of annoyance. It made Dekelley feel good. The last thing he ever wanted was a ‘yes man’ for the master-at-arms. The fact that Dalton was the highest ranked non-commissioned officer also made him the de facto Chief of the Boat–well, it would have been if Starfleet used that rank instead of a warrant officer-centric Boatswain.
“Tell you what, if there is going to be shooting, I'll make sure Ambler’s my shield.” Dekelley grinned at Dalton.
The chief opened his mouth.
“Docking complete, Commander,” interjected Ensign Furry, giving him an odd look.
Dekelley nodded to the junior officer, indicating that Furry to the lead as per regulations, which stated that armory personnel always cleared the way during boarding actions. Furry cycled the airlock, moving aside and letting Dalton take point. The chief stepped through.
“Clear!” Dalton called out a short minute later.
Dekelley nodded, and was the next person through. There were three individuals in addition to Dalton. Dekelley smiled. “Top of the morning, gentlemen!”
“You must be Captain Dekelley?”The one in the middle offered his hand. “Colm O’Brian, captain and owner of this fine vessel.”
Dekelley took the offered hand, noting Colm’s firm grip. The man was no slouch. “Thank you for having us, Captain. With me are Chief Dalton, whom you’ve met, Ensign Furry -”
Colm raised an eyebrow as he offered his hand to the ensign. “Furry, huh? Hell of an odd name, mate!”
“It has Irish origins,” grumbled Furry, a bemused look passing.
“Well, I'll try not to hold that against you,” offered Colm with a smile.
Dekelley smiled back. If his predecessor’s hunch was correct and O’Brian was running a criminal enterprise within Deneva, then Arrowtown’s captain would have kept tabs on all Starfleet personnel within the star system.
“So, I hear that something attacked you out here?” asked Dekelley.
“Oh, aye!” Colm nodded enthusiastically. “Came at us out of nowhere!”
“And what were you doing this far out?” Dalton demanded. “The Reef’s not in the normal space lanes.”
Colm looked at the chief with an air of innocence. “Would you believe me that we were surveying for dilithium deposits?”
“Not really,” replied Dalton, one hand resting on the holstered phase-pistol.
Giving the chief a sideways glance, Dekelley turned back to Colm. “I believe the Deneva authorities are aware of this,” he said, not bothering to add that the Starfleet Corps of Engineers were planning to deploy a refinery and mining ships in the next year or two.
“It’s in our records, we were contracted by the Tellarite Mining Consortium.”
“Right,” hissed Dalton.
“I’m sure you can clarify back at the station, Captain,” said Dekelley.
“Station?” asked Colm.
“Deneva Station, Captain,” replied Dekelley, smiling. “We have questions, for which you have answers. But that’s for later. In the interim, we need to see what struck you.”
