Tales of the USS Bluefin - 1: "Semper Paratus" (REVISED)

[Nerys Ghemor]

Nice build-up of tension here...and I also love the interaction between the Romulan and Klingon. Their mannerisms--the rough, boorish "Viking" on one hand and the genteel, understated Romulan on the other--play off of each other just wonderfully.

Now, if that weapon affects the Klingon ship as well, it'll be quite interesting to see why the Klingons feel that's worth the risk.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Chapter 10

Stardate 53500.0 (3 July 2376)
USS Bluefin
Molari Asteroid Belt

Strauss shook her head, trying to clear the ringing in her ears. She had a pounding headache, the nasty taste of blood in her mouth, and felt like she might throw up, but at least she was still alive.

She turned, wincing at the sudden announced pain from bruises and contusions, to survey the bridge. T'Ser was kneeling by the prone form of the Captain. Strauss' blood turned cold.

"T'Ser! The Captain - is he? . . ." asked Strauss, anxiously.

T'Ser looked up. "His pulse is strong, but he's unconscious. He probably has a concussion. I've already contacted sickbay for a medical team."

Strauss, quickly rallied, realizing they were still in a potentially dangerous tactical situation. She shifted to command mode. "Status?"

Gralt fielded the question. "We're alive and the ship's intact. Thank the twelve deities for that! The Klingon ship appears to be drifting for now, no weapons reading at present, although they still have power and life support."

"And Bluefin's status?" pressed Strauss.

Gralt winced as he turned in his chair; a pronounced bump was over one eye. "Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

Strauss breathed heavily. "Just give it all to me."

Gralt looked at a display at his station. "We've lost warp drive, which I anticipated. We also lost phasers - feedback from their energy weapon fried the emitters. Torpedoes are also off-line, navigational deflectors are operational but will need some work." He paused. "The good news - life support is fine and there are no hull breaches, but I bet we took some dings to the hull plates here and there. The warp core is intact but the coils are damaged. We'll need two weeks in the ship yard to get those replaced. Communications are inoperative, but I can have that fixed in short order. Oh, and we have the secondary shields operating, but only at 40%. Impulse drive is fully operational."

A medical team, led by Dr. Baxter, exited the turbo-lift and moved quickly to the Captain. Baxter favored Inga for a moment and smiled wryly.

"Commander Strauss, I presume? Calvin Baxter - sorry we haven’t had the chance to be properly introduced." He knelt down and ran a medical scanner over Akinola.

Inga smiled weakly at the doctor. "We've both been kind of busy. How is he, Doctor?"

Baxter regarded the scanner with a slight frown and grunted. "A concussion - third one this year!" He shook his head in aggravation. "He'll be just fine Commander. We'll get him down to sickbay for observation but he'll soon be as right as rain."

"Other casualties?" asked Struass.

"Only bumps and bruises so far." Baxter gave her a meaningful look. "We were very lucky!

Akinola moaned and his eyelids fluttered open and fixed on Baxter. He groaned, and then spoke. "Well, since it's you, I must not be dead."

"No Joseph, once again you've been saved by your amazingly hard head," said Baxter.

Akinola tried to sit up, but Baxter gently restrained him. "Uh-uh-uh! It's off to a bio-bed for you. Commander Strauss has matters well in hand."

The wave of nausea and dizziness that overwhelmed Akinola convinced him. He closed his eyes and lay back on the deck. He waved Strauss over. "Status?" he croaked.

"We're alive, intact and have minimal shields and impulse. Weapons and warp drive are down," replied Strauss.

"Okay . . . take care of the ship." he said in a raspy voice. He appeared to be losing consciousness again. "Don't forget the rocks, Inga . . ." Akinola slipped back into the arms of Morpheus. Baxter and two medics transported him off the bridge on an anti-grav gurney.

T'Ser looked at Struass, puzzled. "Rocks?"

"Probably the concussion," said Strauss. "Scan that other ship - I want to know if they're dead or getting prepared for another run."

T'Ser responded. "I just did - they are functioning, but their mains are off-line. I believe they may have maneuvering thrusters but no impulse or warp drive. As to weapons, they are all off-line at present and their shields are down to 20%."

"Life-signs?"

"There are 20 life signs on board. Some of these are fading, however. It appears they were less prepared for our barrage than we for theirs," said T'Ser.

Inga stared at the sinister image of the Bird-of-Prey hanging in space. "Well, we need to finish this. Can we beam over a boarding party?"

T'Ser shook her head. "No, even down to 20%, their shields will block our ability to use the transporter."

Strauss sat in the command chair, and thoughtful look on her face. "Alright, we need a plan B."

* * *

Stardate 53500.0 (3 July 2376)
Klingon Bird-of-Prey
Molari Asteroid Belt

The Klingon commander coughed and spat bright, pink blood onto the deck. The atmosphere was even thicker than normal with smoke from electrical fires. He quickly sought to assess the situation. Emergency lights provided only bare, grudging illumination to the damaged bridge.

"Report!" He barked, raspily.

He received no reply at first, and then the helmsman roused up from his board, blood oozing from a gash to his head. He blinked once, trying to focus his eyes on his read-outs and then spoke. "My Lord, we have lost both warp and sub-light drives. Life support is fluctuating. Shields are down to 20%. We have maneuvering thrusters on stand-by."

The commander growled, "Weapons, fool! What of our weapons?"

The helmsman staggered to the gunnery station, absently pushing his dead crew mate out of the seat. He took a moment to study the flickering displays and shook his head. "Phasers are gone - the emitters are fused. Of course, no torpedoes with the plasma cannon. And the cannon itself . . . “the helmsman peered at the unfamiliar readings, "is off-line but appears undamaged. However, the power conduits are damaged. We might be able to re-charge and fire a burst, but we may destroy ourselves in the process."

The disenfranchised Klingon Commander simply sat still for a moment, his anger a smoldering ember. If only we had decent disruptors instead of those useless Orion phasers! , he thought. He turned to berate the Romulan agent for his foolish ruse and saw the spy, lying lifeless on the deck in a pool of dark green blood, a large piece of shrapnel jutting from the remains of his left eye.

"So!" he said to the corpse. "It is turning into a good day, after all!"

He turned back to the crewman. "What of the Federation ship? Was it destroyed?"

The helmsman returned to his station. He banged his fist on his board. "The Federation ship is intact!" he said, anger mixed with disbelief in his voice. "It is not possible!"

The Commander nodded slowly, a thin, appreciative smile on his face. "A worthy adversary, indeed," he murmured to himself. To the helmsman, he barked -"Their status, fool! What of their weapons? Their shields?"

The helmsman concentrated on his readouts. "Weapons are off-line. They have shields, but they are weakened - appear to be less than 50%. They are holding station at the moment."

"They probably want to negotiate terms for our surrender," the Commander said with a sneer. "Helmsman! Begin charging the plasma cannon!" He sat back in his chair. "There will be songs sung of our exploits!"

"Not if no one is left alive to report it," muttered the helmsman to himself.

* * *

Stardate 53500.0 (3 July 2376)
USS Bluefin
Molari Asteroid Belt

"Commander? I'm reading an energy build-up on the Klingon vessel!" said T'Ser. "It appears that they are charging the energy weapon."

Strauss stood up. "Time until they can fire?"

T'Ser replied, "Best guess? With their damage, probably five minutes."

Strauss turned to Gralt. "Commander, is there any chance you can re-create the static subspace field again?"

Gralt shook his head. "No way. I had to use the warp coils to create the first one and they're fried. Our shields alone won't help at full strength, much less at 50%."

Strauss turned again to T'Ser. "Can we outrun it?"

"Unlikely at impulse speeds. The energy burst would overtake us before we could get out of range."

Strauss said, "Then we've got to take them out first."

Gralt snorted, "Sure! We've got no phasers, no torpedoes. I know! We could threaten to write a nasty letter to the Klingon Chancellor!"

"Stow it, Commander," said Strauss sharply. "I need options, and I need them now!" She maintained her gaze on the screen, watching the Klingon vessel. As she did, a shadow passed over the hull of the other ship - a large asteroid drifting lazily through space. She suddenly heard the Captain's voice in her head, “. . . Don’t forget the rocks, Inga. "

She whirled back toward Gralt. "Do we still have tractor beams?"

At first, Gralt looked confused. "Well, yes, but I don't see . . ." He paused, a look of realization coming over his face. "Fornicating deities! Yes!" He turned to his station, tapping switches, and then turned back to Strauss, a toothy grin on his furry muzzle. "We have full power on all four tractor beams."

Commander Strauss spoke quickly. "Commander Gralt, latch on to that asteroid and bring it our way . . . right through that ship! Helm, prepare for evasive maneuvers - this may get hairy!"

* * *

Stardate 53500.0 (3 July 2376)
Klingon Bird-of-Prey
Molari Asteroid Belt

The Klingon commander watched the Federation ship on his screen. He was somewhat disappointed that he could not contact them, that he could not see their faces when they realized that he, Krell of House K'Tinga, had beaten them.

"My Lord!" exclaimed the helmsman.

"What is it? Is the weapon charged?" asked Krell.

"The enemy vessel has engaged tractor beams!"

Krell frowned, "We do not appear to be caught in a tractor beam."

"Sir, the beams are not aimed at us!"

Realization suddenly hit the Klingon commander. "Thrusters, you fool! Move us, now - NOW!"

A proximity warning klaxon began blaring on the bridge of the Bird-of-Prey. The helmsman spoke, tonelessly, "Too late."

The 790 thousand metric ton asteroid was quite small relative to other asteroids in the Molari Belt. It was much too small to receive its own designation on any star charts. The deflectors of most capital ships would move it aside effortlessly. But it still had more mass than a Galaxy class starship and it ripped through the Klingon vessel as if it were wet tissue paper. The collision created an explosion that vaporized the Bird-of-Prey and knocked a few minor fragments from the asteroid. The explosion flared briefly, then quickly dimmed, the asteroid continuing on its endless journey at the edge of the Molari system.

* * *

Stardate 53500.0 (3 July 2376)
USS Bluefin
Molari Asteroid Belt

Commander Strauss watched the asteroid annihilate the Bird-of-Prey as the Bluefin moved easily away from the blast effect and cloud of debris. She spoke softly, a look of weary satisfaction on her face.

"Send us a card from Sto'Vo'Kor , you cold son of a bitch."

* * *

 

[Nerys Ghemor]

Score one for the Bluefin!!!

Nice solution to the problem...I still find myself wondering, though, exactly what the Klingons and the Romulans are doing together. I guess that's a mystery for next week's episode...

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Chapter 11

Stardate 53500.8 (3 July 2376)
USS Bluefin
Sector 0323

Captain Joseph Akinola sat up in his bio-bed, enjoying a bowl of cherry vanilla ice cream. He looked up as Commander Strauss entered sickbay.

Akinola began to speak, "Well, Commander . . ."

Strauss interrupted. "Sir, damage control parties are at work and repairs are underway. Communications are back up and shields are back to 100%. I've ordered helm to make best speed out of the Molari Belt and rendezvous with the USS Matterhorn ."

"Commander . . ."

"At which time, Captain Hastings will tow us back to the ship yard at Star Station Echo, ETA - four days. Gralt says that repairs should take . . ."

"Commander!"

Strauss stopped suddenly, embarrassed. She realized that she had been rambling, so intent on giving her report, that she had not responded to the captain.

Akinola looked at the young officer, grinning. "Nicely done, Commander! Now, sit down before you fall down," he ordered, not unkindly.

She looked down for a moment, still embarrassed, and then took a seat on a stool by Akinola's bed. She realized how very tired she was, now that the adrenaline rush had faded.

"Sorry, sir. I just wanted to submit my report and get back to the bridge," she said.

"The bridge will still be there when you get back, XO. We have a good crew and they're busy doing their jobs. Let them," he said, gently. "T'Ser already stopped by and told me what happened. You showed good command presence and made the right decisions under a tremendous amount of stress."

Strauss kept her gaze fixed on the deck. She could feel herself blush. "Sir, you were the one with the idea to use the tractors on an asteroid. I was slow on the uptake . . ."

"Bull!" Akinola said, firmly, startling Strauss. "I didn't tell you what to do. I was barely conscious and you heard me babbling about rocks. It was your initiative, Commander, and your proper assessment of the tactical situation and the options that saved this ship. You made good use of your officers and you kept your wits. I know you were scared - Hell, I was too!" He paused before resuming in a quieter tone.


"Inga, you did well today. You still have a lot to learn about this old cutter and what we’re about, but I'm confident that you've got what it takes to serve on the Bluefin. Now . . . would you like some ice-cream?"

Strauss stood, a tired smile on her face. "Thank you sir, but I can't stand cherry vanilla. If you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work."

Akinola feigned a hurt expression on his face, "Fine. See if I offer to share my ice cream again." His smile returned. "Go on Commander. I'll see you later."

After Strauss left, Akinola pulled a computer screen to his bed. He contacted the Ensign at communications and gave her instructions. Soon, the face of Chief Inspector Timothy McGrath appeared.

"Chief Inspector, do you have any news for me?"

McGrath nodded. "I do. But you realize that we cant legally use this information in any Federation legal proceedings."

"I figured as much," said Akinola. "I have an idea about getting around that, though. Now, tell me what you've learned."

McGrath did.

* * *

One month later . . .


Stardate 53594.1 (5 August 2376)
Office of the Governor
Plateau City, Molari III

Governor George Tarleck stood at the large windows of his opulent office, gazing out at the Red Mountains of Molari III. He was smoking a cigar made of the finest, most expensive Ferengi tobacco. A snifter of Saurian brandy was in his right hand. Tarleck was a large, corpulent man, wearing a finely tailored suit. He smiled as he surveyed his domain. He was also in a very good mood.

The deal he’d brokered with the Klingon renegade, Krell, would more than cover the debt he owed the Orion Syndicate. His small part of the deal, luring a Federation asteroid breaker into a trap, had been a simple matter. While there might be questions about why he had done so, he had plausible deniability about the ship's destruction. Regrettable, of course, was the loss of lives, but business was business. He cared not a bit for the Klingon's motives or his "honor." In his mind, Krell was a loser, a low-level privateer who had picked the wrong side in the short-lived Klingon civil war. What had interested Tarleck were the crates of gold-pressed latinum that Krell had delivered.

He’d recently learned that Krell's ship had been destroyed out in the Belt. He figured that there was no way that he could be linked to the Klingon's activities and that he was free and clear. No loose ends suited him very well.

Tarleck's reverie was interrupted by a commotion at the door of his office.

"You can't go in without an appointment!" Tarleck's assistant was saying.

Two men moved past the flustered secretary. One was a Starfleet officer, the other, an all too familiar figure.

"Chief Inspector McGrath!" said Tarleck, "So nice of you to drop in. I see you're still getting your suits from re-manufactured replicators. Ms. Carlin, it's alright. You may go back to your desk."

The buxom secretary with the bright, purple hair quickly closed the door. Traleck forced a genteel smile on his face. "Can I offer you gentlemen refreshment - coffee? Perhaps something stronger?"

McGrath and Akinola ignored the false hospitality. The lawman spoke first. "Governor Tarleck, we know that you were involved in the recent ambush and destruction of the Border Service vessel, USS Kilimanjaro and that you were involved in a conspiracy with a renegade Klingon to falsely implicate the Orion Syndicate."

Tarleck was not a man who spooked easily. He picked up a large, gold lighter from his desk and re-lit his cigar. He spoke around the cigar, expressing clouds of fragrant smoke.


"That's a pretty bold accusation, McGrath. But I very much doubt you have any real evidence to back it up. Besides, why would I want to do such a terrible thing?"

"Maybe to get the Syndicate off your back permanently," replied the Starfleet officer, "by having us retaliate against them for destroying one of our ships."

Tarleck kept his poker face, but that comment had found its mark. "And just who the Hell are you?"

"Captain Joseph Akinola, commanding officer of the USS Bluefin." The tall, dark-skinned human replied. "There were over 70 beings from a dozen worlds on the Kilimanjaro. Men and women who would lay down their lives to save your sorry ass if you were really in trouble. You set them up. They walked into your trap, and now my colleagues and friends are dead," he said, ice in his voice, "Just so you could avoid paying off some gambling debts."

Tarleck snorted derisively. "You know, this is getting tedious. I'm a busy man, so why don't you go and peddle your fairy tales somewhere else!"

McGrath remained unperturbed. "It might interest you to know that I had a nice little chat with one of your employees, a Mr. M'butto. I must say, he was a bit hesitant to talk with me - at first. But with a bit of . . . persuasion, he was quite talkative."

Tarleck's face went ashen. "That's inadmissible in any court in the Federation,” he blustered, spittle flying from his mouth. “My lawyers will have a field day and both of you will be begging for a job in my mines when they're through with you, do you hear!"

McGrath regarded him through hooded eyes as a cat might regard an interesting rodent. "It is true, Tarleck, that Mr. M'butto's testimony is totally worthless in any Federation legal proceedings, despite the damning nature of his testimony. Oh, I have a recording, if you'd like to hear it," he offered.

Tarleck was off-balance, a position to which he was not accustomed. "Well . . . like you said - you've got no case!"

Akinola responded. "No. What he said was that we've no case under Federation law. That's true enough." He paused. "But Klingon law, well now . . . that's a different matter."

Tarleck's mouth went dry and his knees unhinged. He staggered backward against his desk. "You can't . . .," he rasped.

"Oh, but we can!" said Akinola, his voice hard. He tapped his comm badge. "Senior Chief Brin, please beam down our guests."

Momentarily, the shimmering effect of transporter energy appeared as three distinct columns. They quickly coalesced into three large Klingon warriors.

"Governor Tarleck, this is Lt. Trarn of the Imperial Klingon Defense Force. He and these two officers will escort you to Klingon space where you will be tried on charges of conspiracy to commit acts of treason against the Empire."

Tarleck was shaking with fear and rage. "You can't do this!" he screamed. "I'm a Federation citizen."

McGrath spoke. "That is true. However, you should know that there are aspects of our mutual-defense treaty that allow for very speedy extradition in such cases. Of course, your attorneys will have an opportunity to appeal to the Klingons, but . . . that may be a lengthy process. And I believe that your attorneys may be busy with other aspects of your business affairs."

The Klingon Lieutenant moved forward and grabbed Tarleck roughly. He grinned menacingly, revealing a row of jagged teeth. "Come now, Governor, you may find that Rura Penthe is very nice this time of year."

* * *


Stardate 53594.5 (5 August 2376)
USS Bluefin
Standard orbit, Molari III

Captain Akinola sat in his ready room with a steaming cup of coffee. On his screen was the image of Admiral Morgan Bateson.

"So, Admiral, you agree that there was more to this than a crooked governor and a crazy, disgraced Klingon?"

On the screen, the Admiral ran a hand through his thinning hair. "It would seem so. From what we could tell from inspecting the Bluefin’s hull, the faint energy traces are consistent with what we know of Romulan plasma weapons."

Akinola shook his head. "It doesn't make sense, Admiral. The Romulans never do anything without a very good reason. What could they possibly have gained from this - our going to war with the Syndicate? I don't see how that works."

Bateson looked troubled. "I don't either. But if the Roms are involved in something on this side of the quadrant, you can bet it will mean more trouble for us."

Akinola gave a thin smile. "Semper Paratus, sir. We're always ready!"

Bateson snorted. "Thank God for that. Take care of yourself, Joseph. Bateson, out."

Akinola turned off the screen and picked up a piece of wood and a carving knife. Although the piece was still in rough form, the characteristic shape of an Everest class asteroid breaker was apparent.

* * *


Stardate 53597.2 (8 August 2376)
A non-descript government office building
Romulus

"Tar'kilik was a valuable agent. The Director is highly displeased that he is dead."

The female Romulan operative inclined her head, acknowledging her superior. "It was a risky operation. The Klingon was far too head-strong."

The Supervisor steepled his fingers. "It was Tar'kilik who failed, not you T'Vash. You counseled against the plan."

"That is true. But if the strategem had succeeded, we would have been in an excellent position to make our foray into the Badlands."

The Supervisor frowned. "Never say, 'what if,' T'Vash. It is a bad habit and clouds your focus."

Another nod of the head. "As you say. What are your orders, Commander?"

"It is imperative that we get assets into the heart of the Badlands - before the Federation or the Klingons discover what lies hidden therein." he paused. "It is time to activate one of our sleeper agents in the Federation."

T'Vash raised an eyebrow and cautioned, "There is great risk."

The Supervisor nodded in agreement. "Sometimes, with great risk comes great reward!

END

Author's Note: Semper Paratus was the first story I posted for public viewing, originally submitted in the spring of 2007. It was gratifying to see the positive and kind responses it received. Recently, I decided to re-write the story to correct some aspects that bothered me. I made some updates to Semper Paratus (characters, dialogue, dates, etc.) while preserving the basic story-line and flow. In my more recent stories, I've noticed several comments from readers who were not familiar with the series, thus I thought it a good time to re-post the original.

I hope you've enjoyed reading Semper Paratus. I derive great pleasure from
writing these stories and from reading the fine stories from other writers on this forum.

Additional Tales of the USS Bluefin can be found at United Trek. Just follow the link below. Thanks again for taking the time to read the story!

 

[Nerys Ghemor]

Nice conclusion--I especially enjoyed the interplay between Akinola and Strauss at the very end...good to see Strauss settling in. Hopefully she seems to be getting an idea of what the Border Service is all about. Now that she's made such a difference, let's hope that feeling of accomplishment translates into a continued warming-up to the crew and assignment she's in.

Talk about a cold maneuver on McGrath's part! That's almost as bad as turning somebody over to a pre-Dominion-War Cardassia for justice!

Though if Tarleck's a Romulan agent, I have to wonder if that would be discovered by the Klingons--and if he is, whether or not the official Klingon authorities would be sympathetic. It definitely seems like he was killed, but I can't tell which way it went and that definitely leaves more to discover in your next story.