Chapter Four
13 December 2376
USS Bluefin
En route to Point Station Gamma, warp 6
Captain Akinola seated himself at the desk of his ready room and tapped the com button on his terminal.
"Commander T'Ser, open a hailing frequency, encrypted channel, using the comm code that I'm sending to your station. Route any reply directly to this terminal, I repeat, this terminal only, understood?"
There was only a slight hesitation before T'Ser answered, "Yes sir, routed directly to your terminal, acknowledged."
"Good. Akinola out."
On the bridge T'Ser wore a puzzled frown.
"Anything wrong, T'Ser?" asked Commander Strauss.
"No ma'am, nothing's wrong. Just . . . unusual."
* * *
Akinola considered working on an in-process wood carving of a Bajoran stellar sailing vessel, but he was too distracted to make the attempt. Fortunately, he did not have long to wait for the reply he sought, as his terminal beeped less than ten minutes after he issued the order to T'Ser. He punched the com button.
"Akinola here."
A face he had not seen in ten years appeared on the screen. It was a human face, of northern European stock, that one might consider handsome save for the hardness around the eyes and mouth. It was a wary face, one that had seen trouble and heartache. It did not now appear to be a very happy face.
"Hello, Jospeh. I must say, I'm surprised to hear from you."
Akinola nodded slightly. "Bjorn. It's . . . good to see you again."
Bjorn Koordsen, privateer and former Border Cutter commander, snorted, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I seriously doubt that, considering our history. So you can understand that I was a bit apprehensive when I received a transmission from you after all this time."
"I'm calling in a favor."
Koordsen regarded his former friend and colleague. "Do I owe you one?"
Akinola peered intently into the screen and spoke in a tight voice, "You know damn well if I hadn't testified on your behalf at your court martial you'd be in the New Zealand penal facility or maybe even Sundancer! Not to mention I had to drag your sorry ass off of the Thrasher before your warp core blew!"
Koordsen regarded Akinola with cold eyes without speaking for several seconds. "Alright Akinola, what do you want?"
"I need you to take me and Chief Brin to Verex III."
Koordsen's eyes widened in surprise. "What the frak? . . . Akinola, if you want to commit suicide, why not step out of an airlock and save me the trouble?" When Akinola merely stared at him, Koordsen continued. "Why do you need to go to Verex III? For God's sake, Joseph, you're not exactly a popular man on the Orion homeworld!"
"Let's just say I need something that only the syndicate can get."
"Wouldn't it be easier to just contact someone in the syndicate by sub-space?"
"You remember the Elix family, don't you?" asked Akinola, ignoring the question.
"Remember them? Hell, half the boardings we made were on their raiders. And I also know the history between them and Solly. Need I remind you that while they don't like you, they hate him!?"
Akinola leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Let's say that old man Elix owes me an honor debt."
"An honor debt? What did you ever do for the old bastard, besides cut into his profit margin?"
"We rescued his son from the Romulans."
Bjorn looked at Akinola with an incredulous expression, then began to laugh. "Okay, Joseph, fine, don't tell me. Gods! - rescuing his son from the Romulans - that's pretty funny."
"So are you going to help me out or not?"
Koordsen sighed, "Okay, okay, why not? But don't expect me to bail your ass out if the Elix family doesn't welcome you with open arms. Now, where do you want to rendezvous?"
* * *
Akinola strode onto the bridge from his ready room. "Helm, come to new heading of 103 mark 55, increase speed to warp 9."
"Coming about to 103 mark 55, accelerating to warp 9," replied Bralus from the helm.
Commander Strauss stood from the command chair, puzzled. "Sir, that's taking us a long way from Point Station Gamma, and Commander Gralt requested we not exceed warp 6."
"Are you questioning my orders?" Akinola asked, coldly.
Strauss was taken aback by the captain's response. "No sir, merely pointing out . . ."
"Then carry them out, XO!" he interrupted, turning back to his ready room.
There was an uncomfortable silence that fell over the bridge. Bralus and Vashtee kept their attention focused on their boards. T'Ser turned and raised an eyebrow. Strauss could feel her face reddening in embarrassment and anger. She hesitated only a moment before stalking toward the ready room.
* * *
Akinola had barely taken his seat when the annunciator chimed. Rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, he called, "Come!"
The door slid open and Commander Strauss came and stood before his desk, not quite at attention. "Sir, respectfully, what the hell is going on?"
"Have a care, commander!" Akinola warned.
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"Denied!"
Struass looked stricken. Akinola sighed again. "Sit down, XO, please," he gestured to the chairs opposite him. Strauss looked unsure, but reluctantly sat, still maintaining a rigid posture.
Akinola stood and stared out the viewport. Strauss could see in the reflection from the transparent aluminum that the captain wore a worried expression. That, as much as what had transpired on the bridge, caused her alarm.
"Sir?" She said in a hesitant voice, all trace of anger now gone, "are you alright?"
Akinola did not turn, nor did he answer her question. Instead he posed a question of his own. "Commander . . . Inga, do you trust me?"
The question surprised her. "Well, yes sir, of course I do."
"Then I am going to have to ask you to exercise that trust right now." He turned and looked at her. "We are en route to rendezvous with a private vessel, the Eschaton. Chief Brin and I will transfer to that vessel and you will assume temporary command of the Bluefin and continue on to Point Station Gamma as originally ordered. If all goes well, we should catch up with you within two weeks."
Strauss shook her head. "Sir, I don't understand . . ."
Akinola held up his hand. "Inga, please, don't ask me any more. All I can say is that I have something important to do that falls outside the bounds of regulations. I do not want you or anyone else on this ship involved or implicated in any way if this goes wrong. If all goes well maybe I can tell you all about it."
"What about Chief Brin?" she challenged.
Akinola offered a slight smile. "Solly and I have a long history, Inga. Let's just say he's essential to the mission and leave it at that."
Strauss still wasn't happy. "Sir, we're a crew - we're in this together! If this is important, we all should be there to help!"
"I appreciate that commander, I really do! But that's not an option this time." He walked around the desk and laid a fatherly hand on Inga's shoulder. "I'm counting on you to command this cutter, Inga. You've got to start focusing on that. T'Ser, of course, will be your exec and Deryx will cover for Chief Brin."
She stared into his eyes. "And what if this mission of yours fails?"
"Then, commander, it's been a privilege serving with you."
* * *
14 December 2376
USS Bluefin
on heading 103 mark 55
"Stationary contact, dead ahead, range 115 million kilometers," announced Lt. Bane.
"Helm, drop us out of warp. Ops, do you have an ID on that contact?"
Bane checked his boards. "Harbinger-class corvette, one of the retired peremeter defense ships from the Antarean system. IFF indicates the vessel is the Eschaton, a privately owned ship." He paused, "Sir, they are now moving in our direction at one quarter impulse."
"Very well," said Akinola. "Helm, maintain course for rendezvous with the Eschaton."
In a few minutes, the privateer vessel appeared on the view screen. It was predominantly black with patches of gray and red on its wedge-shaped hull. Twin warp nacelles were faired into the main hull. It carried many of the design characteristics of the Defiant-class, albeit without as much firepower or speed.
"I was not aware that the Federation tolerated privateers," said Lt. Sarnek from the helm.
"It's a holdover practice for the Antareans, from before they joined the Federation, Lieutenant," responded Akinola. "A concession they sought and received was for them to continue their own, small self-defense force. They have some rather hostile neighbors, so the concession was granted. And, in addition to their small self-defense force, they also employ privateers - armed merchantmen who serve as their "reserves" and are commissioned to engage pirates, raiders or others that the Antarean government deems as hostile."
Sarnek frowned. "Is it not redundant for them to continue such a practice, with the Border Service and Starfleet able to provide for their defense?"
Akinola smiled. "Pride and paranoia are not necessarily logical, Sarnek, but the Antareans are from humanoid stock and they have a strong self-preservation instinct."
"Captain, we're being hailed," said Lt. Bane.
"Channel it to my ready room. Commander Strauss, the ship is yours," said Akinola.
Strauss moved from tactical to the command chair. She did not look happy.
Akinola switched on his desk terminal. The image of Bjorn Koordsen appeared on the screen.
"Captain Akinola, are you still determined to carry out this suicide mission?"
"Chief Brin and I can transport over at your convenience."
Koordsen snorted. "Since when did you care about my convenience? We're ready when you are. Signal me when you're ready to transport."
* * *
Akinola and Chief Brin stood in transporter room one. They both wore civilian attire. Brin carried a heavy-looking duffel bag. As they stepped on the transporter dais, the door slid open and Dr. Castille entered, carrying a small device.
"Here's what you'll need," said Castille. "This portable stasis chamber should keep the medicine stable for two weeks, assuming you don't expose it to light or extremes in temperatures."
"Thanks, Doc," said Akinola. He placed it in his backpack. He looked around the transporter room for a moment, wondering if he'd ever see the old cutter again. Then, he spoke to Chief Deryx at the transporter controls.
"Energize," he said.
The transporter room of the Bluefin faded and was replaced by a smaller, darker transporter room. When the transporter effect diminished, Akinola and Brin looked around. Two people were waiting on them - Bjorn Koordsen and a severe-looking woman with some Klingon blood in her ancestry, judging by the faint ridges on her forehead. Koordsen did not offer his hand to Akinola. "Welcome aboard the Eschaton," he said.
* * *
13 December 2376
USS Bluefin
En route to Point Station Gamma, warp 6
Captain Akinola seated himself at the desk of his ready room and tapped the com button on his terminal.
"Commander T'Ser, open a hailing frequency, encrypted channel, using the comm code that I'm sending to your station. Route any reply directly to this terminal, I repeat, this terminal only, understood?"
There was only a slight hesitation before T'Ser answered, "Yes sir, routed directly to your terminal, acknowledged."
"Good. Akinola out."
On the bridge T'Ser wore a puzzled frown.
"Anything wrong, T'Ser?" asked Commander Strauss.
"No ma'am, nothing's wrong. Just . . . unusual."
* * *
Akinola considered working on an in-process wood carving of a Bajoran stellar sailing vessel, but he was too distracted to make the attempt. Fortunately, he did not have long to wait for the reply he sought, as his terminal beeped less than ten minutes after he issued the order to T'Ser. He punched the com button.
"Akinola here."
A face he had not seen in ten years appeared on the screen. It was a human face, of northern European stock, that one might consider handsome save for the hardness around the eyes and mouth. It was a wary face, one that had seen trouble and heartache. It did not now appear to be a very happy face.
"Hello, Jospeh. I must say, I'm surprised to hear from you."
Akinola nodded slightly. "Bjorn. It's . . . good to see you again."
Bjorn Koordsen, privateer and former Border Cutter commander, snorted, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I seriously doubt that, considering our history. So you can understand that I was a bit apprehensive when I received a transmission from you after all this time."
"I'm calling in a favor."
Koordsen regarded his former friend and colleague. "Do I owe you one?"
Akinola peered intently into the screen and spoke in a tight voice, "You know damn well if I hadn't testified on your behalf at your court martial you'd be in the New Zealand penal facility or maybe even Sundancer! Not to mention I had to drag your sorry ass off of the Thrasher before your warp core blew!"
Koordsen regarded Akinola with cold eyes without speaking for several seconds. "Alright Akinola, what do you want?"
"I need you to take me and Chief Brin to Verex III."
Koordsen's eyes widened in surprise. "What the frak? . . . Akinola, if you want to commit suicide, why not step out of an airlock and save me the trouble?" When Akinola merely stared at him, Koordsen continued. "Why do you need to go to Verex III? For God's sake, Joseph, you're not exactly a popular man on the Orion homeworld!"
"Let's just say I need something that only the syndicate can get."
"Wouldn't it be easier to just contact someone in the syndicate by sub-space?"
"You remember the Elix family, don't you?" asked Akinola, ignoring the question.
"Remember them? Hell, half the boardings we made were on their raiders. And I also know the history between them and Solly. Need I remind you that while they don't like you, they hate him!?"
Akinola leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Let's say that old man Elix owes me an honor debt."
"An honor debt? What did you ever do for the old bastard, besides cut into his profit margin?"
"We rescued his son from the Romulans."
Bjorn looked at Akinola with an incredulous expression, then began to laugh. "Okay, Joseph, fine, don't tell me. Gods! - rescuing his son from the Romulans - that's pretty funny."
"So are you going to help me out or not?"
Koordsen sighed, "Okay, okay, why not? But don't expect me to bail your ass out if the Elix family doesn't welcome you with open arms. Now, where do you want to rendezvous?"
* * *
Akinola strode onto the bridge from his ready room. "Helm, come to new heading of 103 mark 55, increase speed to warp 9."
"Coming about to 103 mark 55, accelerating to warp 9," replied Bralus from the helm.
Commander Strauss stood from the command chair, puzzled. "Sir, that's taking us a long way from Point Station Gamma, and Commander Gralt requested we not exceed warp 6."
"Are you questioning my orders?" Akinola asked, coldly.
Strauss was taken aback by the captain's response. "No sir, merely pointing out . . ."
"Then carry them out, XO!" he interrupted, turning back to his ready room.
There was an uncomfortable silence that fell over the bridge. Bralus and Vashtee kept their attention focused on their boards. T'Ser turned and raised an eyebrow. Strauss could feel her face reddening in embarrassment and anger. She hesitated only a moment before stalking toward the ready room.
* * *
Akinola had barely taken his seat when the annunciator chimed. Rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, he called, "Come!"
The door slid open and Commander Strauss came and stood before his desk, not quite at attention. "Sir, respectfully, what the hell is going on?"
"Have a care, commander!" Akinola warned.
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"Denied!"
Struass looked stricken. Akinola sighed again. "Sit down, XO, please," he gestured to the chairs opposite him. Strauss looked unsure, but reluctantly sat, still maintaining a rigid posture.
Akinola stood and stared out the viewport. Strauss could see in the reflection from the transparent aluminum that the captain wore a worried expression. That, as much as what had transpired on the bridge, caused her alarm.
"Sir?" She said in a hesitant voice, all trace of anger now gone, "are you alright?"
Akinola did not turn, nor did he answer her question. Instead he posed a question of his own. "Commander . . . Inga, do you trust me?"
The question surprised her. "Well, yes sir, of course I do."
"Then I am going to have to ask you to exercise that trust right now." He turned and looked at her. "We are en route to rendezvous with a private vessel, the Eschaton. Chief Brin and I will transfer to that vessel and you will assume temporary command of the Bluefin and continue on to Point Station Gamma as originally ordered. If all goes well, we should catch up with you within two weeks."
Strauss shook her head. "Sir, I don't understand . . ."
Akinola held up his hand. "Inga, please, don't ask me any more. All I can say is that I have something important to do that falls outside the bounds of regulations. I do not want you or anyone else on this ship involved or implicated in any way if this goes wrong. If all goes well maybe I can tell you all about it."
"What about Chief Brin?" she challenged.
Akinola offered a slight smile. "Solly and I have a long history, Inga. Let's just say he's essential to the mission and leave it at that."
Strauss still wasn't happy. "Sir, we're a crew - we're in this together! If this is important, we all should be there to help!"
"I appreciate that commander, I really do! But that's not an option this time." He walked around the desk and laid a fatherly hand on Inga's shoulder. "I'm counting on you to command this cutter, Inga. You've got to start focusing on that. T'Ser, of course, will be your exec and Deryx will cover for Chief Brin."
She stared into his eyes. "And what if this mission of yours fails?"
"Then, commander, it's been a privilege serving with you."
* * *
14 December 2376
USS Bluefin
on heading 103 mark 55
"Stationary contact, dead ahead, range 115 million kilometers," announced Lt. Bane.
"Helm, drop us out of warp. Ops, do you have an ID on that contact?"
Bane checked his boards. "Harbinger-class corvette, one of the retired peremeter defense ships from the Antarean system. IFF indicates the vessel is the Eschaton, a privately owned ship." He paused, "Sir, they are now moving in our direction at one quarter impulse."
"Very well," said Akinola. "Helm, maintain course for rendezvous with the Eschaton."
In a few minutes, the privateer vessel appeared on the view screen. It was predominantly black with patches of gray and red on its wedge-shaped hull. Twin warp nacelles were faired into the main hull. It carried many of the design characteristics of the Defiant-class, albeit without as much firepower or speed.
"I was not aware that the Federation tolerated privateers," said Lt. Sarnek from the helm.
"It's a holdover practice for the Antareans, from before they joined the Federation, Lieutenant," responded Akinola. "A concession they sought and received was for them to continue their own, small self-defense force. They have some rather hostile neighbors, so the concession was granted. And, in addition to their small self-defense force, they also employ privateers - armed merchantmen who serve as their "reserves" and are commissioned to engage pirates, raiders or others that the Antarean government deems as hostile."
Sarnek frowned. "Is it not redundant for them to continue such a practice, with the Border Service and Starfleet able to provide for their defense?"
Akinola smiled. "Pride and paranoia are not necessarily logical, Sarnek, but the Antareans are from humanoid stock and they have a strong self-preservation instinct."
"Captain, we're being hailed," said Lt. Bane.
"Channel it to my ready room. Commander Strauss, the ship is yours," said Akinola.
Strauss moved from tactical to the command chair. She did not look happy.
Akinola switched on his desk terminal. The image of Bjorn Koordsen appeared on the screen.
"Captain Akinola, are you still determined to carry out this suicide mission?"
"Chief Brin and I can transport over at your convenience."
Koordsen snorted. "Since when did you care about my convenience? We're ready when you are. Signal me when you're ready to transport."
* * *
Akinola and Chief Brin stood in transporter room one. They both wore civilian attire. Brin carried a heavy-looking duffel bag. As they stepped on the transporter dais, the door slid open and Dr. Castille entered, carrying a small device.
"Here's what you'll need," said Castille. "This portable stasis chamber should keep the medicine stable for two weeks, assuming you don't expose it to light or extremes in temperatures."
"Thanks, Doc," said Akinola. He placed it in his backpack. He looked around the transporter room for a moment, wondering if he'd ever see the old cutter again. Then, he spoke to Chief Deryx at the transporter controls.
"Energize," he said.
The transporter room of the Bluefin faded and was replaced by a smaller, darker transporter room. When the transporter effect diminished, Akinola and Brin looked around. Two people were waiting on them - Bjorn Koordsen and a severe-looking woman with some Klingon blood in her ancestry, judging by the faint ridges on her forehead. Koordsen did not offer his hand to Akinola. "Welcome aboard the Eschaton," he said.
* * *
