Tales of the USS Bluefin – 6: “Crossroads”

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Chapter Nine

16 December 2376
USS Bluefin
en route to the Rincassa system, warp 6


Sleep evaded acting Captain Inga Strauss, so she decided to work out in the ship's compact gym - hoping the fatigue brought on by intense physical exertion would serve to counter her over-active mind.

After stretching, she worked on the balance beam. Although 12 years had passed since she last competed as a gymnast, the moves came to her easily, the rhythmic and graceful routine bringing a sense of calm she had not known in two days. She concluded with a perfect dismount. The sudden, slow applause behind her caused her to turn suddenly.

T'Ser leaned against the bulkhead. "Shouldn't you be asleep?" she asked.

Strauss grabbed a towel from a stack and wiped her face. "Shouldn't you be on the bridge?"

"Bralus has the conn. He needs the experience and it's good for his ego." T'Ser paused, crossing her arms. "We need to talk."

Strauss draped the towel over her neck. "I thought you said I needed sleep."

"This won't take long," said T'Ser. She paused and gave Strauss an appraising look. "Do you know what the hell you're doing, Captain?

Strauss frowned. "That's pretty close to insubordination, don't you think?"

T'Ser dropped her arms and stood straight. She was considerably taller than Strauss. "Inga, I appreciate that you want to help the captain. But have you really thought this through? What do you think Captain Akinola would say?"

Strauss felt her face flush. "Captain Akinola isn't here, T'Ser. So his say is not relevant at the moment."

"The hell it isn't!" snapped T'Ser. "He left orders to continue on to Point Station Gamma, not go off on your own. If he had wanted our help he'd have asked for it. Now you may be taking this ship and its crew into harm's way!"

"That's highly unlikely, Commander! The captain and first officer of the Greeley might be cozy with the Syndicate, but that certainly doesn't mean they'd do anything insane!"

T'Ser shook her head. "Don't be naive! If they're involved with the Orion Syndicate then normal rules don't apply. Desperate people do desperate and stupid things!"

Strauss moved forward, looking up at the taller woman. She spoke slowly and firmly. "Commander, I believe your duty station is on the bridge. Go, now, or I'll relieve you."

T'Ser narrowed her eyes, but did not immediately speak. She stepped back from Strauss.

"Have you considered why the captain of the Horace Greeley wants to rendezvous in the Rincassa system?"

The question threw Strauss off-balance. "What? Well, it's out-of-the way, of course. No inhabited planets or traffic."

"Rincassa is a type-E star," interrupted T'Ser, evenly.

Strauss stopped. "Type-E?"

T'Ser nodded. "Yes. Which means that we will be unable to send subspace transmissions out of that system. Our warp drive will not function, nor will our Mark 22 torpedoes. If there were to be an . . . incident of some sort, we would have no way to call for assistance. No one would even know where to look."

Strauss mentally chided herself. She had been so eager to set up the meet with the Greeley that she had not conducted even a rudimentary tactical study. Something that any second-year cadet would know to do. And she had not contacted Point Station Gamma about their course change. She'd have to deal with that later.

"Thank you for bringing that to my attention, Mr. T'Ser. Please report to the bridge," Strauss said, quietly.

T'Ser maintained eye-contact for a beat longer, than turned and left without another word.

Strauss stood still for a moment, the ragged sound of her breathing echoing in her ears. She felt slightly nauseous. Strauss walked over to the bulkhead. She leaned her head against the cool,smooth wall. Her thin veneer of confidence was breaking down and she wondered, Am I in over my head?

* * *

16 December 2376
Verex III
Elix Compound, shortly after mid-night, local time

Tranji Elix betrayed no reaction upon hearing Akinola's request. "Why do you need this drug?" he rasped.

Akinola shook his head. "That isn't your concern. The drug is not illegal, only scarce. The source in the Federation was lost in the war. Suffice it to say, I want the Fexkel-Tripan and I want it delivered here within 12 standard hours or there's no deal and the honor debt is not satisfied."

Lortho Elix laughed derisively as he lounged in his chair, earning a sharp look from his father, who shouted a single Orion word. The younger Elix immediately stopped laughing, a scowl spreading across his features. He stood and slunk from the parlor, offering Akinola a final, hate-filled glance before disappearing through a side door.

The old Orion turned to Akinola and made a dismissive gesture. "Do you think this is some slaj-pah warehouse where we keep everything in stock?" His chest heaved with the effort of speaking. "I've never even heard of this drug. It may take some time to locate, especially in the quantity you need!"

Akinola smiled thinly. "You disappoint me, Ahmet 'sur. I suppose the stories I've heard of your legendary resourcefulness were just tales." He stood. "If you can't help, there are other families . . ."

The old man was nothing if not proud. His pride trumped caution. "Klaj-mosq! Trisla jhamet tris noolak!" Tranji Elix thundered in his native dialect,his mottled red skin turning a deep burgundy. "I will not have this rotting carcass of an honor debt between you and me another day! You will have the accursed drugs." He shuffled over to Akinola, wheezing with exertion and anger. He pointed a gnarled, trembling finger at the captain. "But know this! After this day you will no longer enjoy the protection of this debt. And on the day we meet again, I will see you die."

Akinola returned the hateful stare of the Elix clan leader with a baleful look of his own. "We all have to die sometime."

* * *

16 December 2376
USS Bluefin
approaching Rincassa system

"Take us out of warp, Mr. Sarnek," ordered Strauss.

The Vulcan helmsman complied and the cutter dropped into normal space, a greenish-orange sun prominent on the view screen.

"Scan for other vessels," ordered Strauss. Her palms were damp, her mouth dry.

Lt. Bane adjusted the ship's powerful sensors. "Difficult, Captain. That star is pouring out some heavy background radiation. Attempting to compensate." He continued to fine tune his instruments. Captain Strauss fought the urge to drum her fingers. How could they rendezvous with the Horace Greeley if they couldn't find her?

Lt. Commander T'Ser, sitting at tactical, turned and raised a quizzical eyebrow. She remained silent, but her look spoke volumes to Strauss. Strauss shook her head slightly. This wasn't the time for an argument.

Finally, Bane uttered a soft oath of triumph. "Got it! Bearing 224 mark 12, range 122 million kilometers."

"On screen," ordered Strauss, "Maximum magnification."

The view screen wavered, distorted lines of interference traced across the screen. Finally a ship appeared, small and distant. It had the familiar silhouette of a Miranda-class starship, without the roll bar - a Liberty-class variant.

"I can't get an ident code reading at this range," said Bane.

"It's got to be the Greeley," said Strauss with more confidence than she felt. "Can we hail them?"

Bane shook his head. "No ma'am. The stellar radiation cuts our communication range way down. We'll have to be within a hundred thousand kilometers to contact them. And it'll be a spot of trouble even then!"

A tickle of apprehension played at the back of Inga's mind. She forced herself to focus on the task at hand. "Helm, take us into the system to rendezvous with the Greeley. Full impulse."

The Bluefin thundered silently ahead. Strauss focussed her attention on the screen, ignoring the gaze of Lt. Commander T'Ser.

* * *

 

[DavidFalkayn]

I fear Inga and Joseph both are going to soon find themselves in way over their heads.

The things we do for those we love...

 

[CeJay]

I have to say that Strauss has not won any sympathy points from me since getting the conn. I hope this is due to the steep learning curve she's still trying to master and not a reflection of her character.

Akinola on the other hand is the epitome of cool. "We all have to die sometime." Damn straight, but Akinola will go out in style when the time comes, I'm sure of it.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Thanks for the comments, guys. And Cejay, as to Strauss it is more of a steep learning curve hampered by immaturity and inexperience. She's not a bad sort, but T'Ser said it best - she's naive. Will she learn anything from this? That remains to be seen.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Chapter Ten

16 December 2376
USS Horace Greeley
Holding station in the Rincassa system


Lt. Hraalas flicked his tail in agitation. The Caitian operations officer of the Horace Greeley knew something was rotten with the captain and several of the officers, but he had no evidence to back that suspicion. Still, here they were at another clandestine rendezvous point in a remote star system. A muted growl escaped from his throat.

"What was that, lieutenant?" asked Captain Helena deSouza, a short, stocky woman with dark hair and eyes.

"I am rreading a faint sensorr contact, approaching from our starboard stern," said Hraalas.

"Range and speed?" queried Commander Ian "Jack" Bane, the first officer.

Hraalas twitched his whiskers in concentration. "Difficult to esatablish with the interferrence. They arre on an intercept course at point seven fourr c."

"It would seem this Captain Akinola is prompt, wouldn't you agree Number One?" commented deSouza.

"Yes," agreed Bane. His calm voice belied the internal turmoil he felt. He had not revealed to deSouza that his youger brother, Nigel, knew of their Syndicate connection. "Lieutenant, try boosting the alpha-gain on the sensors to clean up the return."

The Caitian Ops officer complied and studied his boards again. Momentarily he purred in satisfaction. "Ident confirmed, sirr. Alabcore-class cutter. It's the USS Bluefin. Estimate one hour until rendezvous.

"Very good, Mr. Hraalas," said Captain deSouza. Begin hailing attempts in half an hour. Commander Bane, please join me in the ready room."

* * *

The ready room on the Greeley was an after-thought, tacked on during an upgrade to the bridge module some twenty years earlier. Captain deSouza eased herself into a high-back desk chair and indicated that Commander Bane should also take a seat. She tapped a button on her terminal, activating a short-range field that would scramble any eaves-dropping devices. Her features were hard as she regarded Bane.

"Jack, it seems awfully convenient that your brother contacted you about getting these drugs. Are you sure he knows nothing about our little 'operation?'"

Bane remained outwardly cool, though his stomach churned. "Relax, Helena. As far as Nigel is concerned, we simply have a lot of contact with trading ships from all over the quadrant," he lied. "And I made sure he understood that payment was required - to reimburse our supplier, of course."

deSouza eyed Bane much as a cat would a small rodent. "Of course." She leaned forward, eyes narrowing, "But remember this, Jack. I have no intention of getting caught. The Syndicate would be none too happy about that. If it comes down to it, I won't hesitate for an accident to occur to any of those border dogs that gets nosey, your brother included - understood?"

Bane eyed the captain coldly. "You don't have to remind me, Helena - I know damned well what the Orions would do to us!"

deSouza leaned back in her chair, a smile on her lips. "Well, then. I'm glad we had this little talk. Get back on the bridge and let me know when the Bluefin arrives."

* * *

16 December 2376
Verex III
Elix family compound

Captain Akinola had been escorted to a "waiting" area - basically a nicely appointed room with expensive furnishings and a locked door. He imagined that Tranji Elix was seeking some loophole whereby he could ignore the honor debt and simply kill Akinola outright. Akinola had done his homework and knew that was unlikely - an honor debt was a serious matter and Tranji would ultimately follow custom, regardless of his personal feelings.

Lortho, on the othe hand, was the wild-card. Akinola was under no illusions that the younger Elix was bound by any code of honor. Once the transaction was completed, Lortho would make an attempt against Akinola, that was certain. The question in Akinola's mind was . . . When? Probably not while he was still in the compound. That would incur the old man's wrath, and Lortho didn't impress him with having the stones for that. No, more likely after he left the compound or perhaps when he was back on the Eschaton. Either way, Akinola was ready - he hoped.

The sound of an electronic lock opening broke Akinola's train of thought. Tranji Elix and the Orion woman he met earlier entered the room. The woman carried a dark metal case. She placed it on the table and opened it. Inside were thirty vials of an amber liquid.

"I assume you have a stasis chamber for these?" the woman asked. "They will degrade rapidly otherwise."

Akinola nodded. "Yes, I have what I need." He had no need to check the medication. Although notorious for their cruelty and violence, the Syndicate could be trusted to keep a bargain. It was the closest thing they had to religious dogma - never lie about a business deal. Violating that rule was one of the few things that could set off a war between Syndicate clans.

"Is honor satisfied?" asked Tranji Elix, in a reedy voice.

Akinola took the case and put it in his backpack. "It is."

"Then my obligation to you is ended, as is my hospitality. Leave. Now." The old man glared at Akinola and he breathed heavily from exertion.

Akinola shouldered the bag. "Suits me." He looked at the Orion woman. "How about showing me the exit?" As they turned toward the door, Akinola twisted his right boot heel, sending a micro-burst transmission from a hidden communicator.

* * *

In the dark woods outside the Elix compound, Solly Brin heard a series of beeps in his earpiece. He shed off the day laborers clothes, leaving him in a sensor resistant black uni-suit. He pulled the hood up and over his face. Now, even a direct sensor sweep would register his presence only as a small, warm-blooded creature common to these woods. He left his weapons cache, taking only the knife with the composite blade, and slipped out of the covering foliage into the open ground surrounding the compound wall. He could feel the fire in his blood flare as he easily slipped into combat mode.

* * *

16 December 2376
USS Bluefin
Rincassa system

"Captain? I'm receiving a hail from the USS Horace Greeley," announced Lt. Bane.

"On screen," said Strauss, hoping her voice did not betray her nervousness.

The main viewscreen shimmered and a distorted view of another starship's bridge appeared. Bane worked his panel until the image stabilized. A dark haired woman in her late fifties sat in the center seat.

"Bluefin, this is Captain Helena deSouza of the Horace Greeley. Welcome to the Rincassa system!" Her voice was firm and friendly.

"Captain deSouza, I'm Inga Strauss in temporary command of the Bluefin."

Even through the interference, Strauss detected a subtle change in deSouza's demeanour.

"I was under the impression that Captain Joseph Akinola wished to rendezvous with us for emergency medical supplies." said deSouza. Her tone was still casual, but the friendliness evaporated.

"That's correct," said Strauss. "However, the emergency situation with the Captain's family required his presence on Earth. He asked that Lt. Bane and I pick up the medical supplies in his absence." Strauss was both surprised and dismayed by the ease with which the lies flowed from her lips. It went against her training and her character to lie to a fellow officer. She reminded herself that this "officer" was likely on the payroll of the Orion Syndicate.

deSouza seemed to consider this for a moment before replying. "Very well. Since the transporter does not work reliably in this system, I suggest you come by shuttle. Notify us when you're ready. deSouza, out."

The screen reverted to the starfield and a view of the Horace Greeley.

"That went well," remarked T'Ser, a note of sarcasm in her voice.

"Well enough," replied Strauss, not taking the bait. "Lt. Bane, you and I will take a shuttle over to the Greeley and pick up the medical supplies." Bane rose and moved to join Strauss in the turbo-lift.

T'Ser rose quickly from her station at tactical. "Mr. Sarnek, you have the conn," she announced and quickly joined Bane and Strauss in the lift. As the doors slid to, Strauss rounded on the Vulcan woman.

"T'Ser, what do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

"My job! Allow me to remind you that, as Captain, you have no business going on an away mission."

"This is hardly an away mission, Commander! Lt. Bane and I are going to complete this transaction and get the medicine, then we'll be on our way."

T'Ser shook her head. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't just a run of the mill supply run. If, as Lt. Bane believes, that captain is involved with the Syndicate, she is dangerous! We are at a tactical disadvantage - cut off from communications outside the system and unable to use non-lethal defensive measures. If Captain deSouza has a mind to, and figures out what you know, she could blow us away and we might never be found!"

"Then, Commander, I expect you to do whatever is necessary to defend this ship," Strauss said in a calm voice. "I made the call to do this and I'm going to see it through. You are to consider the Lieutenant and me as expendable. If you don't hear from us within fifteen minutes of arriving on that ship, you are to raise shields, arm weapons and withdraw from this system. If they fire on you, defend yourselves."

T'Ser was surprised. She expected an argument, but Strauss threw her off-guard with her quiet response and firm resolve. Bane looked uncomfortable, but remained quiet. Finally, T'Ser sighed. "Yes ma'am. What's your safe word?"

Strauss considered a word to indicate a problem. "How about 'Oh shit!?"

That broke the tension and T'Ser began to laugh. "Perhaps something a bit more subtle?" she suggested.

Strauss smiled. "Let's go with, 'lovely.'"

T'Ser raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Fine. It's your ass."

* * *

Strauss and Bane exited the hangar deck of the Bluefin in the type-15 shuttle, Darter. Bane banked the small shuttle to line up with the port bay of the Greeley.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," said Bane, quietly.

"Sorry for what?" asked Strauss, puzzled.

"This - Putting you in this situation, my brother's involvement with the Syndicate. I should have kept my mouth shut."

Strauss reached over and grabbed Bane's arm. "Nigel, we can't choose our families. I don't blame you for wanting to protect your brother. I suppose, if I were faced with the same circumstances, I'd try to protect my brother - even though he was a whiney brat as a child!"

This elicited a small smile from Bane.

Strauss continued, "As to our present situation - that was my choice. I could have said no."

Bane turned to look at her. "So, why did you go ahead with this idea?"

"It seemed like the right thing to do," she said simply as the Darter passed through the atmospheric shields of the Greeley's hangar bay.

* * *

On the bridge of the Bluefin, Lt. Commander T'Ser sat in the command chair, glaring at the Liberty-class ship hanging in space. She turned to Ensign Morgan, who was manning the tactical station.

"Ensign, I want you standing by with shields. If that other ship raises their shields, you raise ours immediately, understood?"

Morgan appeared startled by the order. He glanced at the other Federation starship then back at T'Ser. "Ma'am?"

"You heard me, mister. Now, mind your station. Ensign Vashtee, carefully monitor communications. If you get even a tiny signal from the Captain, I want to know it."

"Yes ma'am," replied the young Indian officer.

"Just get this done and get out of there, Inga," T'Ser whispered to herself.

* * *

16 December 2376
USS Horace Greeley
Rincassa system

Captain deSouza watched the incoming shuttle on the monitor in her ready room. deSouza opened a desk drawer and removed a small, type-1 "diplomatic" phaser, which she placed in a small forearm holster on her left arm. She pulled her sleeve down over the phaser, stopped to check her hair in a mirror, then exited the ready room for the hangar bay.

* * *

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Inga's making the mistakes of youth and is in the midst of a very steep learning curve--without the Dominion War, she'd probably still be a Lieutenant--probably a department head or assistant--not the XO and next in command of a border cutter. Granted, the Bluefin is not a Sovvy or a Nebbie, but still, it is a starship and it's captain is called on to make split second life or death situations. Inga's now in the deep end of the pool and there aren't any flotation devices handy.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Chapter Eleven

16 December 2376
Verex III
Elix family compound


Captain Akinola walked behind Tranji's assistant, Trejira, flanked by two burly Orion guards. They rounded a corner and Trejira stopped abruptly, their path blocked by Lortho Elix and two other men. Lortho had a rather nasty smile on his face.

"Lortho, let us by. Your father . . ." began Trejira.

"My father," interrupted Lortho, "is a sick, old man and a fool. He may feel bound by ancient tradition, but I'm not! Now run along and have a nice screw with father. I doubt he'll be around to enjoy you much longer."

Trejira's face darkened. "Lortho," she began, slowly, "don't do this!"

Lortho leveled a phaser at the Orion woman. "Or what? You'll tell father?" He laughed and gestured to the other Orion males surrounding them. "These men know who the new Ahmet 'sur is! The old man's life is fading and so is his influence. If you're smart, you'll keep that in mind." He stepped forward and grabbed the woman by the hair. "I'd hate to have to sell you off at auction, but you would fetch a nice price![/i]

Trejira's face showed the rage and hatred she felt, but she backed down. She turned briefly to Akinola. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about this. I promise you, Tranji doesn't know."

Akinola looked at the woman. "You can tell him that I consider us even." He turned back to Lortho. "Alright, let's get this done."

* * *

16 December 2376
Star Station Echo
Office of Admiral Morgan Bateson

Admiral Bateson was enjoying an afternoon cup of coffee and looking forward to dinner with Captain Rodenko later that evening. He had finished most of his "paper work" for the day and was completing log entries when his desk terminal chimed softly. The image of his Edosian aide, Lt. Relden-qi, appeared on the screen.

"Admiral, you have an in-coming message from Commander Roberts of Point Station Gamma."

Bateson frowned slightly. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Put it through."

The image shifted to that of a human male in a Starfleet uniform. Commander Roberts had closely cropped, gray hair and a square face. His heavily lidded eyes gave him a weary expression.

"Admiral Bateson? Commander Alan Roberts, manager of Point Station Gamma."

"Yes, Commander. How can I help you?"

"Well, sir. One of your cutters, the Bluefin, is overdue. She was scheduled to arrive here yesterday. We've tried contacting her with no success. I was wondering if you'd heard from them?"

Bateson's brow furrowed. "No commander, we haven't. But rest assured, we'll get on it immediately! Captain Akinola is one of our most experienced commanders - I imagine they're just having some technical problems. I'll get back with you as soon as I find out something."

"Thank you, admiral. I hope you're right. Roberts out."

The screen returned to the image of the Border Service seal. Bateson rubbed his jaw, various scenarios running through his mind - most of them not good. He leaned forward and tapped the comm button. Relden-qi's face appeared. "Yes, admiral?"

"I want you to personally go to station communications and attempt to contact the Bluefin. They haven't shown up at Point Station Gamma and they're not responding to hails from that end. Before you do that, give me a run-down on all of our assets in Cardie territory."

The Edosian recognized the urgency in Bateson's voice. "Right away, Admiral!"

Bateson leaned back in his chair - his coffee now forgotten.Joseph, what the hell have you gotten into?

* * *

16 December 2376
Verex III
Elix family compound

Senior Chief Solly Brin moved cautiously into the open area between the woods and the high wall surrounding the compound. He kept low while moving in an erratic pattern. Stopping and starting frequently. He hoped that whoever monitored the sensors would mistake him for a small animal.

* * *

"Kargun! I'm picking up movement in zone three."

The Orion sentry moved inside the guard shack and looked over the shoulder of the sensor operator. After a moment, he grunted in disgust and cuffed the youngster on the ear.

"Don't you know how to read that thing? Look at the heat signature and the movement. It's a grevoolt, hunting for grubs." Kargun reached onto his belt and unholstered his phaser. He pushed it roughly into the younger Orion's hand. "Go on and check it out. You could stand the target practice. If you bring back its pelt, I'll buy you a tranya!

Embarrassed and angry, but too intimidated to do otherwise, the young Orion took the phaser and slouched off into the darkness.

* * *

Lortho and two of his sentries herded Akinola along, phaser rifles at the ready. He was led to a small, windowless room with no furnishings and shoved roughly inside. The two sentries came in also, followed by Lortho. Akinola turned to face the large Orion, who leered at the cutter captain.

"I've been waiting for this a long time, Akinola!"

"Well, so much for gratitude," said Akinola. "I guess I should have left you to those Romulans. I understand you were crying like an infant when that Tal 'Shiar agent had you."

Lortho hit Akinola with a brutal backhand, knocking him down. Akinola spat blood on the floor and looked up, grinning. "Guess you're still sensitive about that, huh?"

Lortho Elix had recruited most of the armed thugs that provided security for the compound. He picked them because of their size and ability to intimidate others. None of them, however, had any real combat training or exprerience.

Captain Akinola, on the other hand, was a decorated combat veteran. He had fought the Cardies in the first wars over twenty years earlier and had been on countless boarding raids. He was a master of hand-to-hand fighting and more than that, he was smart and patient. These Orions relied on their size, their weapons, and the self-assurance that everyone feared them.

In Akinola's case, they were badly mistaken.

* * *

From his crouched position, Solly could see a form coming toward him. It was obviously an amateur - no trained soldier would make so much noise or expose himself so readily.

Solly gripped his knife, tensing himself for the right moment to take out his target.

* * *

Akinola slowly stood, feigning more pain and weakness than he actually felt. He slumped slightly, head down in a submissive posture. Sensing weakness, the three Orion males moved in closer to deliver their blows.

Time seemed to dialate for Akinola. His senses were alive, as if he could note every movement, evey sound, every breath of his opponents. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the thugs bring a rifle butt up to strike him.

Akinola struck.

Afterward, he would not remember the fight clearly. His body seemed to work of its own volition. A boot smashed into an unguarded knee. A knife-hand stabbed into a throat. He snatched a falling rifle and swung it into the mid-section of a third. He vaguely remembered yelling at the top of his lungs.

A red haze seemed to cover his vision, whether due to a bleeding cut on his head, or the surge of adrenalin in his body, he could not say. Time contracted and expanded in a passing paradox. Finally, he was aware that he was kneeling on Lothar, who was bleeding from his nose and ears.

"Please . . .," croaked the injured Orion in a hoarse whisper. Akinola also became aware that he was holding a phaser rifle below the Orion prince's chin. He was fascinated to see his finger increase pressure on the trigger. Another part of Akinola's brain suddenly shouted, "Stand down!" The finger stopped, then relaxed. He took a deep breath, wincing at the sharp pain he felt in his left side.

Akinola stood suddenly, and dizziness threatened to overcome him. A pool of dark, red blood covered the floor. The other two thugs were down. One had a leg bent at an awkward angle. The other's nose appeared to be smashed into his face. Both were unconscious but appeared to be breathing. Akinola looked down at Lortho Elix and raised the phaser rifle. Elix held his shaking hands up in supplication. "NO!" he rasped.

Akinola checked the rifle's setting. It was on maximum. He thumbed it down to the heaviest stun setting and fired at Lortho, who convulsed in pain, then was still.

He stood for a moment, trying to regain his focus. Blood trickled from a scalp wound and from his nose. He coughed up a wad of bloody phlegm and spat again. He ran a shaking finger in his mouth, wincing at the pain, but was gratified to find his teeth intact.

Still fighting dizziness, he checked the two guards over, taking a communicator and electronic key. For good measure, he fired a stun round into both to ensure they remained unconscious for a long time. Bringing the rifle up and grabbing his backpack, he unlocked the door and checked the hall before moving quickly away.

* * *

Frajlar moved through the tall whip-grass, trying to spy the grevoolt. The animals weren't particularly dangerous, but he had no desire to get near one's sharp claws. As a green Orion, he lacked the acute night vision of the red race, but he felt he could see well enough.

The young Orion was so surprised by being pulled down so quickly that he did not cry out. Something sharp and heavy pressed against his throat. Even more frightening were the two, bright red eyes that peered at him from the darkness. They regarded him coldly for a moment, considering. Frajlar was certain he had met death, but he decided to meet it bravely and he glared back. He was surprised to hear a soft chuckle.

"You're a bit young, yet," said a low, muffled voice. "Find another line of work." A sudden blow put Frajlar out for the count.

Solly grabbed the youngster's communicator and phaser pistol and moved on in the direction of the gate.

* * *

"Where's Frajlar?" asked Harlorn, startling Kargun. The latter turned and faced the former Federation Marine.

"Deities, Harlorn! Must you always sneak up on folk?" hissed Kargun.

Harlorn regarded him with a withering stare. "I asked you, where's Frajlar?"

Kargun snorted. "I sent him out to catch a grevoolt."

Harlorn narrowed his eyes. "Where?"

"Sector three. He picked up a sensor blip, but it was too small to . . . hey! Where are you going?"

But Harlorn had already disappeared.

* * *

 

[Gibraltar]

Holy crap, now that was a fight! Akinola is not one to be trifled with. Tranji may be Lortho’s Ahmet’sur, but Akinola is now and for all times Lortho’s daddy.

And now here comes Solly, a happy death machine with a smile and a very sharp knife. Man, some days they just don’t pay these Syndicate guys enough.

Strauss is putting a lot on the line and ignoring the advice of her acting XO. I sincerely hope she’s not getting in over her head, but I fear the worst.

Get cracking, man. I have to know how this ends! :thumbsup:

 

[Mistral]

Can't wait to see how this shakes out. Just read the last 3 stories on Different Worlds today and enjoyed them a lot, so much so that I finally registered on the BBS so I could tell you-am eager to see rest of story. Also, what ABOUT having a collision between the "shiny" STTNG Starfleet and the "grimier" people and events out on the Border?

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Mistral said:
Also, what ABOUT having a collision between the "shiny" STTNG Starfleet and the "grimier" people and events out on the Border?

For such a tale, I refer you to DavidFalkayn's "Rocks and Shoals" on this forum. And thanks for the kind words - glad you like the story!

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Lortho's not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, is he? That's what he gets for underestimating an old spacedog like Joseph. I'm thinking if I were to put an order for a trainload of sumbitches and just Joseph and Solly showed up, then I'd say I got my money's worth.

Very nicely done!

 

[Mistral]

Solly is quickly becoming my favorite fanfic-only character. He seems to fall into the "Let the Wookie win, R2" class of people. If there is a dark underbelly to Starfleet's military aspect, he's as dark as it can get without tossing out believability.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Thanks for the kind words. And Mistral, you might want to consider Gibraltar's character, Lt. Pava Lar'ragos. I think he may have Solly beat in the "angel of death" category!

Chapter Twelve

16 December 2376
USS Horace Greeley
Rincassa system

Lt. Bane deftly landed the Darter in the port-side hangar bay of the Greeley. As the whine of the impulse engines faded, Strauss saw two figures approaching. One, a tall, broad shouldered human male with brown hair was obviously Nigel's brother, Jack. The resemblance was there, though Jack was somewhat taller and stockier than his younger brother.

The other was a short, stocky woman with captain's pips on her collar. Her black hair was bobbed short and her eyes were dark. They stopped just short of the shuttle, waiting on Inga and Nigel to exit.

"Permission to come aboard?" asked Inga, following timeless tradition.

"Granted," said Captain deSouza. "Please follow me Commander, Lieutenant."

Inga was not bothered by the captain's perfunctory greeting so much as by the lack of greeting between the two brothers. Beyond a simple nod of acknowledgment, there was no embrace, no handshake, no playful cuffs on the arm, not even a "long time, no see." The evident tension between the brothers Bane added to her own sense of unease, which she choked down as she followed the captain.

The four took a turbo-lift up a couple of decks until they came to a small conference room. After they entered, Strauss turned to speak, but her voice caught as she saw the small phaser in Captain deSouza's hand. The older woman looked grim.

"Sit down, both of you!" deSouza said in a harsh tone. The elder Bane looked confused.

"Captain? What are you . . ." began Commander Bane.

"Shut up, Jack! Thanks to you, our operation has been exposed - at least to these two, probably more!"

"What are you talking about?" Jack pressed.

"You said that your brother there knew nothing of our connection with the Syndicate."

Inga winced. This was not going according to plan. Jack Bane's face paled.

"If they didn't know, they do now! Gods, Helena!"

deSouza ignored the elder Bane and addressed Inga. "So, Captain Akinola has traveled to Earth to see about a family emergency?"

Inga nodded. "That's right - his grandson has a rare genetic condition that requires the drugs we're seeking," she said, carefully.

deSouza smirked. "That may be. But I happen to know that your Captain is no where near Earth. In fact, he's on Verex III to obtain the same medicine you want from us - from the Elix family!"

Strauss blanched. "How did you find that out?" she blurted.

deSouza shook her head. "My God, child! How did you ever make it to commander? The one who supplies the drugs to me also supplies them to the Elix family! When I made the request, he was surprised to have two orders in as many days. With a bit of cajoling and bribery, he was happy to tell me that a certain Joseph Akinola needed the drugs."

She turned toward her first officer, brandishing the phaser in a meaningful manner.

"So you obviously knew that the Syndicate is the only source of the drugs. And the only connection between our two ships are the Bane brothers, here." She shook her head. "Jack, I never took you for a fool! I'll miss having you as my first officer, but Lt. K'Larstin is due for a promotion."

"What are you going to do?" asked Strauss, her voice more calm than she felt.

deSouza favored her with a feigned look of sympathy. "I'm afraid that there's going to be an 'accident,' my dear."

"You don't honestly believe my crew will fall for that, do you?" said Strauss, angrily.

"Oh, I didn't mean just you. I meant your ship and crew too!"

* * *

16 December 2376
Verex III
Elix family compound

Solly Brin moved furtively through the thick whip-grass as he approached the gate to the Elix compound. He could see one sentry who appeared to be looking in his general direction. Solly knew that the young Orion he had knocked out would soon be missed. His time was running short.

He sensed, rather than heard the other guard and ducked and rolled forward. The adversary's knife missed his neck by mere centimeters.

Solly bounced up, knife at the ready, and sized up his opponent. The Red Orion standing before him was well-built but also poised and balanced. This was no common street thug.

"Nice move," said Harlorn. "I must be losing my edge."

Solly shook his head. "No, you nearly had me. I never heard you coming." He paused. "Special forces?"

Harlorn shook his head. "Fourth Marines."

Solly nodded, approvingly. "So, why is a former Federation Marine working for the Syndicate?" He began to circle toward his opponent.

"It's a long story. You're not going to live long enough to hear it." With a sudden, quick movement, Harlorn launched a throwing blade at Solly.

Solly had anticipated an attack, but not the speed of his attacker. The blade caught him in the upper left shoulder, sending a shock of pain down his left arm. His quick reaction had prevented the blade from fatally impacting his chest.

Solly kept his focus on Harlorn, countering the quick follow-up attack with a forearm block and a fist strike to his opponent's nose. Harlorn staggered back and shook his head, spitting blood. He smiled at Solly, feignted with a right, than attempted a leg sweep. Solly was able to block it, but the effort brought on another shock of pain in his shoulder. He pulled the throwing blade out of his shoulder and hurled it at Harlorn, who avoided it with relative ease.

* * *

Kargun could make out two figures struggling in the tall grass. One was obviously Harlorn, but the could not make out the other one, who was dressed in a dark outfit. He turned to grab his disruptor rifle out of the guard shack.

A tall, dark human was standing in his way, covered with blood. Kargun had time to recognize the man as the one who had entered the compound hours earlier.

"Hi there," said Akinola, as he pulled the trigger.

* * *

Harlorn charged Solly, attacking with a flying kick. Solly was able to side-step the assault and sliced the leg of the former Marine with his knife. The two men were breathing heavily from pain and exertion. Neither gaining the upper hand, but neither giving quarter. Solly couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun!

Harlorn hopped up and glanced down at the blood oozing from a long cut of his left thigh. He smiled at Solly. "Nice move! Where'd you learn your craft?"

"Over thirty years in the Border Service."

Harlorn nodded. "A Border Dog, huh? I didn't know they taught this stuff."

Solly smiled. "Actually, they don't. But he does!" Solly pointed behind Harlorn.

"You've got to be kidding me!" snorted Harlorn. That's the oldest . . ." His voice was cut off by the discharge of a phaser rifle. Harlorn crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"I hate to break up your fun, Senior Chief, but we've got a ship to catch," said Akinola.

"Aw, Skipper! I was just beginnin' to wear him down!" He looked down at the former Marine. "A damn, good fighter," he said, appreciatively.

"Yeah, well you two can become pen pals later. We're going to have company soon. Let's shag ass out of here!"

As if to emphasize Akinola's point, spot lights blazed on and a klaxon began to sound stridently. For the first time, Solly noticed the Captain's injuries.

"Hell, Skipper! You're hurt!"

"Better hurt than dead! Now move!"

* * *

16 December 2376
Star Station Echo
Office of Admiral Bateson


Lt. Relden-qi's angular face appeared on Bateson's terminal. "Admiral, we've got the warp tug, Fujiyama and the cutters Snapper, Adair, and Akula in Cardassian territory. But Snapper is in for warp core replacement at Starbase 371 and the Fujiyama is tasked for leading a convoy through the Grolek-gren asteroid belt."

"Any luck reaching the Bluefin?" asked Bateson.

"No, sir. We tried them on all frequencies and boosted the signal. No response. According to the station commander at Starbase 371, she departed on schedule. No other communication since that time."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Relden-qi. Open a channel to Captain Gunderson on the Adair. Patch it through to my terminal when you reach her."

"Aye, sir."

* * *

17 December 2376
USS Bluefin
Rincassa system

Lt. Commander T'Ser's anxiety level increased as the time passed with no word from Strauss or Bane. The fifteen minute check-in time had come and gone. She walked over to Ops, manned by Ensign Maya Vashtee.

"Maya, open a channel to Captain Strauss."

The young officer activated the subspace transmitter frequency keyed to Strauss' commbadge. After several attempts, she looked at T'Ser apologetically.

"I'm sorry, commander. She's not responding."

T'Ser looked over Vashtee's shoulder at the display. The signal was strong and the local radiation levels, while high, shouldn't interfere with such a short range transmission. Strauss should be able to respond.

Should be able, but can't? What's happening over there? she wondered. Aloud, she said, "Hail the Greeley, Ensign."

* * *

17 December 2376
USS Horace Greeley
Rincassa system

Strauss tried to focus on the situation, seeking for any opening, any opportunity to disarm deSouza and protect the Bluefin. But try as she could, her own her inexperience and fatigue loomed as major obstacles. She wasn't fearful for her own life - but the thought of losing the ship and crew paralyzed her.

Fortunately, Commander Bane was providing a distraction.

"Helena, you can't be serious! You can't attack another Federation ship and get away with it! Besides, they'll try to defend themselves."

deSouza sneered. "You've never been one to plan ahead, Number One. I've got two quantum torpedoes loaded that will tear that ancient cutter to pieces. And why do you think I chose this God-forsaken system for a rendezvous, anyway? It could be years, centuries before anyone stumbles on the debris field! They can't get a signal out and any explosion will be lost in the background radiation. No one knows we're here, remember?"

Strauss had felt the vibration of her commbadge in silent mode, but she couldn't acknowledge, not with deSouza staring right at her. Please, T'Ser! Raise the shields! she thought.

* * *

"Yes, commander, what can I do for you?" asked the duty officer of the Horace Greeley, a Bajoran lieutenant named Mol Krasdar.

"I need to speak with Captain Strauss," she said evenly. "She is not answering her commbadge."

Krasder smiled reassuringly. "A common problem, commander. This ship has heavy internal shielding due to the nature of some of our cargo. I'll make sure she knows you're trying to reach her."

"It's a matter of some urgency, Lieutenant. I'd appreciate you patching me through to her."

Krasder offered an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, but Captain deSouza left orders that they were not to be disturbed."

T'Ser took a step toward the viewscreen. "Lieutenant! I am not asking, I'm ordering you to patch me through to Captain Strauss - NOW!"

Krasder's smile faded. "There's no need to be hostile! I'm afraid Captain deSouza's orders supercede yours, Commander. But, as I said, I'll pass your request on through." The screen returned to a view of the Horace Greeley hanging languidly in space.

"You haven't seen me hostile, yet!" she muttered. She moved to tactical, displacing the flustered ensign manning that station. Her hands moved deftly over the board, calling up a schematic of a Liberty-class ship. She scrolled through several screens before stopping. A smile played on her features.

She tapped her commbadge. "T'Ser to Commander Gralt."

"Gralt here," came the short reply.

"Commander, I have a question for you . . ."

* * *

deSouza's commbadge beeped. She tapped it. "deSouza, go."

"Captain, it's Krasder. That Vulcan commander on the Bluefin demands to speak with Captain Strauss. I think she's getting suspicious."

deSouza grimaced. "I trust that you'll continue to dissuade them, Krasder. Don't contact me again unless its urgent!" Breaking contact, she raised the phaser toward Strauss and Lt. Bane. "Now, where were we?"

* * *

 

[Mistral]

Ok, keep writing. You've got me hooked, now reel me in. Damn, this is getting good.

 

[CeJay]

Oh de Sousa is just not going to waste (a lot of) time here, is she? I like it. She knows when she's been had.

Now what ingenious plan has T'Ser come up with to save our heroes, I wonder.

And damn, I forgot Akinola used to get plenty of martial arts workout in the gym. He's finally found some good use for it. What a due he and Solly make.

The tension is killin' me here.

 

[Gibraltar]

Methinks this is going to get ugly. Very ugly.

 

[DavidFalkayn]

And now it's on T'Ser to hopefully be able to pull Inga out of the fire. I'm curious to see what she and Gralt are cooking up here...

Solly gets his fight on too--always good stuff!

Can't wait to see how everyone gets out of the messes they're in.

 

[Gibraltar]

You know, it’s kind of funny, but in the face of Section-31 operatives, Romulan Tal’Shiar agents, and Changeling infiltrators among the ranks of Starfleet, I find deSouza’s crew more unnerving than all of them. Syndicate types wearing the uniform, dirtying their hands with illegal trade and taking their marching orders from some Orion Ahmet’sur. Not loyal soldiers working for a cause or nation (no matter how misguided), but thugs working for mere profit.

I hope T’Ser kicks their asses.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Gibraltar said:
You know, it’s kind of funny, but in the face of Section-31 operatives, Romulan Tal’Shiar agents, and Changeling infiltrators among the ranks of Starfleet, I find deSouza’s crew more unnerving than all of them. Syndicate types wearing the uniform, dirtying their hands with illegal trade and taking their marching orders from some Orion Ahmet’sur. Not loyal soldiers working for a cause or nation (no matter how misguided), but thugs working for mere profit.

I hope T’Ser kicks their asses.

That's pretty much the reaction I was seeking. Unlike the Maquis, who at least fight for a cause, deSouza and her cohorts are complete sell-outs who took advantage of the chaos of the post-war era for money and influence. Now you understand why Nigel is so ashamed of his brother!

As to T'Ser . . . well, let's just say she's learned a few unconventional tricks from serving under Akinola for seven years. . .

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Chapter Thirteen

17 December 2376
USS Bluefin
Rincassa System

Lt. Commander Gralt, the Bluefin's abrasive Tellarite chief engineer, folded his arms and regarded T'Ser with an incredulous look.

"Let me get this straight, Commander - you want us to ram that ship over there? With my ship? After just getting out of a major refit? Are you frakkin' nuts?!?"

T'Ser assumed her "patient Vulcan" posture, partly to calm herself, but partly because she knew it irritated Gralt.

"I assure you, Commander Gralt, that I do not intend to 'ram' anything. I want to bring our hull in contact with theirs, then extend our shields around both ships."

"Sounds like ramming to me," Gralt muttered.

T'Ser pointed to a schematic of a Liberty-class ship. "As you can see, we can maneuver astern of the Greeley and use our tractors to draw ourselves into contact with their ship. It will be much like a docking maneuver."

"Yeah," grunted Gralt. "Except neither ship is designed to dock with the other! One wrong move and we'll rupture both hulls! And let's not forget that our structural integrity fields will prevent our hulls from actually making contact - until they overload. And that much overload would compromise the hulls. It may be slow, but it's still ramming!"

T'Ser mentally counted to ten, then continued. "That brings me to my question." She pointed to the shield generator location of the Greeley. "If those were . . . removed, could we not make physical contact between the two ships?"

Gralt frowned and rubbed his muzzle. "Well, yes, of course. But how . . ." he stopped and something akin to a smile played on his porcine features. "Heh! It'll be like pulling the wings off a slar-bug!"

T'Ser wrinkled her nose in distaste. "A poor, but apt analogy. Once we make hull contact, we can use our transporters - the system's radiation interference won't be a factor. And, they won't be able to use their weapons once we envelope both ships with our shields."

Gralt looked doubtful. "What makes you think they won't try to stop us?"

T'Ser smiled. "It seems their captain is preoccupied. And the current bridge officer does not strike me as either imaginative or aggressive. If we move quickly, we can do this before they can react."

"You're taking a big risk, T'Ser," said Gralt, gruffly.

"No bigger than the one Captain Strauss and Lt. Bane took." She turned to the bridge crew. "Mr. Sarnek, prepare for some close maneuvering - and I do mean close! Mr. Gralt, I'd appreciate it if you would man the tractor beams." She tapped her comm badge. "T'Ser to Chief Deryx."

"Deryx. Go ahead, ma'am."

"Chief, I need you to prepare a full boarding party - armored and fully loaded out. Be in the transporter rooms in ten minutes."

"Yes ma'am! What's our mission?"

"You will seize and secure the USS Horace Greeley. They have been operating a smuggling operation for the Orion Syndicate. Also, it is likely that Captain Strauss and Lt. Bane are being held against their will. We're going to attempt to extract them with the transporter, but if that fails, your priority is to rescue them first, then secure the ship."

There was only a moment's hesitation before Deryx responded. "Yes ma'am, understood. What's our R.O.E.?"

T'Ser considered her words carefully as to the rules of engagement. "Chief, you are to consider anyone on that ship as a potential hostile. Lethal force is authorized if necessary."

There was a silence before Deryx replied. "Acknowledged. We'll be ready, ma'am."

"Good. I'll have schematics of the ship downloaded to your combat scanners. T'Ser out."

T'Ser sat in the command chair. "Ensign Vashtee, on my order, begin using active sensors to scan for Captain Strauss and Lt. Bane. Time will be critical, so I will require your best effort, understood?"

Vashtee swallowed. "I won't let you down, commander."

T'Ser smiled. "I know." She picked up a PADD and made some calculations. "Mr. Sarnek, I'm downloading the coordinates to your board where we want to contact the Greeley. It is critical that we make physical contact, so don't worry about scratching the paint."

Sarnek regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "Commander, there is only a 56.32% chance of success with this maneuver."

"Actually, 42.78% if you factor in an unexpected maneuver by the Greeley." She straightened in the center seat. "Stations, everyone! We go to red alert in eight minutes. Mr. Gralt, stand by with the tractor beams and shields."

"I'm on them like an Arcturan leech," he muttered.

* * *

17 December 2376
USS Horace Greeley
Rincassa System

Captain Helena deSouza kept the phaser pointed at Strauss and Nigel Bane. "You should have kept your nose out of our business, young lady! You picked a bad time to try and impress your C.O." She gave Inga an appraising, leering look. "And there are easier ways for a beautiful girl like yourself to move up."

Strauss could feel her temper flare, but she forced herself to remain calm. She had to stall, to give T'Ser time . . . time for what, she didn't know. But their only hope was for T'Ser to take action.

"At least tell me one thing Captain - Why? Why throw away a career in Starfleet to work for the Syndicate? My God, it's a rare privilege to be a starship captain!" exclaimed Strauss.

"A privilege?" sneered deSouza. "What? To command a rust-bucket like the Greeley? To haul around dirty, bleeding, complaining refugees?" She laughed derisively. "You really are naive, little girl! Do you think I'll ever command a ship of the line? No, because I don't have the connections! I was just a nobody from Guadalajara with dreams of going to the stars! I'd read the stories of Pike, Kirk and Wesley - I wanted to be a starship captain like them, to explore new worlds and all the rest." She paused a moment, as if caught in another place and another time. She shook her head and peered at Strauss with hate-filled eyes. "But I wasn't considered 'command material!' My Kobayashi Maru score said I didn't have the 'temperament or imagination' for command."

deSouza gestured around the room, as if to encompass the ship. "But fate had other ideas. The war losses were so severe that even I was granted a command - such as it is. By then, I'd already learned that I could have real influence and power by working for the Syndicate! A couple more successful transactions, and I'll be an Ahmet with a Raider of my own - no longer at Starfleet's beck and call!"

* * *

Lt. Krasder was lounging in the command chair of the Greeley, imagining the day that he would command his own ship, when his reverie was broken by the tactical officer.

"Lieutenant? The Bluefin is maneuvering!"

Krasder frowned. "Be more specifice, ensign! And prepare to pursue."

The young tactical officer's voice went up an octave. "But sir, they're not maneuvering away from us!"

"What!" Krasder stared at the viewscreen, his mouth agape, as the cutter continued to grow in size on the screen. He could now see individual port holes of the cutter, the ship's name and registry, and the blue glow of graviton beams. The sight transfixed him. He watched in speechless fascination as the Bluefin bore down on the Greeley.

"Sir? What are your orders? Sir? SIR!"

* * *

Strauss felt sick. This warped woman was only interested in power and profit. She cared nothing for anyone else, including her fellow Starfleet officers. She turned to Jack Bane. "What about you, Commander? What's your excuse?"

The elder Bane winced slightly. "I . . . I have my reasons," he said, glibly.

deSouza interuppted. "Enough of this! It's time to rid ourselves of our problem . . . all of them!" She turned her phaser toward Jack Bane. "You let me down Jack! You've become a liability to me and to the Syndicate. Actually, I'm doing you a favor by killing you before the Syndicate . . ."

A sudden rumbling vibration rose in intensity through the deck plates. A Padd on the conference table jittered across the surface and crashed to the deck. deSouza looked around at the ceiling, as if expecting it to come crashing down.

"What the . . . ?" she began.

Jack Bane took advantage of the distraction and grabbed for deSouza's phaser. Nigel ran around the table, as did Inga, hoping to disarm the enraged captain.

A sudden blue flash, accompanied by the tell-tale warble of a phaser discharge dazzled Inga. She hit the deck, dazed, but not hurt. The phaser beam missed her and left a scorched mark on the wall near her. She struggled to her feet, then stopped.

deSouza lay motionless on the deck, eyes closed. Nigel was cradling his older brother, whose left side was smoldering where the brunt of the phaser blast had hit him. Jack's face was pale and his hands were trembling. Inga moved forward just as she felt the familiar tingle of the transporter effect.

* * *

Sarnek had guided the Bluefin in a masterful bit of piloting, expertly bringing the cutter's bow to rest on the aft dorsal hull of the Greeley. The cutter rumbled as the two hulls made contact.

"Maya, scan for the Captain and Lt. Bane! Gralt - raise our shields around both ships!"

Gralt cracked a toothy grin, amused at his work with the tractor beams. The aft shield emitter nodes of the Greeley now mere space debris floating gently away from the two ships. "Shields up and firm," he reported. "Aft tractors now engaged to the Greeley's warp nacelles. They're not going anywhere!"

Ensign Vashtee turned to T'Ser. "Commander! I've got them! But I just registered a phaser discharge!" she said, urgency in her voice.

"Noted." T'Ser tapped her comm badge. "Transporter room one - Emergency beam out from the coordinates just sent to you. Activate security protocols and deactivate all weapons." She tapped her comm badge again. "T'Ser to sickbay - medical team report to transporter room one!" A third tap. "Chief Deryx, once tranporter room one is clear, beam over and secure that ship! Round up any senior officers and put them in the brig!" She took a deep breath, willing the surge of emotion and agitation to abate. It was times like this that she wished she had learned some of the Vulcan disciplines.

* * *