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Tales of the USS Bluefin - 4: "Through a Glass, Darkly"

USS Bluefin
Star Station Echo, Berth 14

Akinola made his way back to his cabin but decided against trying to sleep again. The sight of his bed made him slightly uneasy. Instead, he stepped into the sonic shower, then dressed himself in his gray turtleneck and burgundy jacket with black pants. While his choice of uniform was technically out of date, he liked it because it was warmer than the standard jump suit. For some reason, whenever he had a nightmare, he had a hard time staying warm the next day.

The patch had relieved his headache markedly and the nightmare was mostly forgotten. Leaving his cabin again, he stopped by the wardroom to get a mug of coffee before heading for the bridge.

* * *

Commander Strauss was surprised to see the captain on the bridge so early. She stood, relinquishing the command chair. "Captain, you're up early this morning."

"Couldn't sleep," he said simply. "Anything going on I should know about?"

Strauss gave him an appraising look but did not remark on his lack of sleep. "We've completed laying in stores and replenishing our torpedoes. Everyone on shore leave has checked back in and engineering reports that all diagnostics are complete and we are ready to leave at your discretion."

Akinola winced slightly as he sipped the hot coffee. "Very well, XO. Notify the station that we will be departing within the hour."

"Aye sir. And our orders?"

"We're to head to the Klaamat system by way of the Badlands. It seems a couple of freighters have come up missing. Might be raiders, may have been an ion storm," he took another sip of coffee, "or, might be the Maquis."

Strauss raised her eyebrows. "The Maquis? Are they active again?"

Akinola nodded. "Apparently so. And from the intel report I received, they're playing hardball now."

* * *

An hour later, the bridge crew was at departure stations and everyone was focused on their tasks. Akinola was in the command seat while Strauss manned tactical. Bane was at OPs, Lt. Sarnek manned the Helm and Ensign Li sat at the navigator's console. Master Chief Solly Brin took his usual departure station, seated aft at environmental controls.

"Station traffic control has cleared us for departure, captain," said Bane.

"Very well. Navigator, plot a direct course to the Klaamat system through the Badlands. Helm, ahead slow on thrusters until we clear the yard, the one half impulse until we clear the outer markers. When clear, make our speed warp 6," said Akinola.

Each station acknowledged their orders, then proceeded to carry out their assignments. When they received confirmation that the ship was secure and the umbilicals and gangway were retracted, Akinola said, "Take us out, Mr. Sarnek."

The departure for the Bluefin was routine and uneventful. Usually, Akinola enjoyed watching the play unfold, but this morning, he was distracted. Strauss noticed that he forgot to order the departure angle on the viewscreen. Certainly, not a mandatory procedure, but tradition nonetheless. As Sarnek brought the ship to one half impulse, Strauss walked up to Akinola, who appeared deep in thought. "Captain?" she said softly, "Are you alright?"

Akinola sat up and gave a slight smile. "Yes commander, just thinking." He regarded his young executive officer and seemed to come to a decision. "I need to bend your ear for a few minutes, XO." He stood, indicating the ready room. "Mr. Bane, you have the conn."

Strauss took a seat across from the captain. "Sir, I don't mean to press the issue, but are you sure you're alright?"

Akinola gave a short laugh. "I'm fine, XO. Just a bit sleep-deprived. That's not why I called you in here anyway."

He leaned forward, and looked at her with a penetrating gaze. "Commander, what we're about to discuss is not to leave this room until I say otherwise, is that clear?"

"As crystal, sir."

"Good." He leaned back in his chair, maintaining eye contact with the petite XO. "I'll be honest with you. I debated whether to discuss this with you. You're still relatively new to the ship and we're still getting to know each other."

Inga nodded, wondering where this was leading.

"But," Akinola continued, "I realized if I couldn't trust you with this, then we've got no business serving together on this ship. Now, I reiterate, what I'm going to tell you is between you and me for now." He paused. "I have learned that Dr. Baxter did not commit suicide. He was murdered."

For a moment, Strauss was dumbstruck. She shook her head, an incredulous expression on her face. "Murdered? But who . . . why would anyone kill Dr. Baxter? Who told you this?"

Akinola held up a hand. "One thing at a time, commander. Let's just say my source is in a position to know such things. The problem is, I'm not sure how far I can trust this source. As to who, have you ever heard of Section 31?"

Strauss shook her head. "What's that?"

"It's a covert group within Starfleet intelligence - a rogue agency with its own agenda. Apparently, it's been around as long as Starfleet. And they operate outside of Federation law."

"But why would they want Dr. Baxter dead? Does it have anything to do with what happened with the Romulans and the wormhole?"

"That seems likely, although I don't understand how he could be a threat to them. Inga there's one other thing, and this is why I don't want you to tell anyone about our conversation. It is likely that Section 31 has planted an operative on this ship."

"For what possible reason?"

"We know about the wormhole and the cloaked ships that Starfleet Intelligence is using. And my gut tells me there's something else going on here, too. I just don't have a clue what it is."

"Sir, what do you want me to do?" asked Strauss, earnestly.

Akinola smiled. "For the moment, nothing. The last thing I want to do is to start spying on my own crew. That's just a short walk around the corner to paranoia. But if you do come across anything out of the ordinary - unauthorized communications, for example, let me know."

Strauss nodded, a serious expression on her face. "I will, sir." She hesitated before adding, "But I hate keeping the truth about Dr. Baxter from the crew!"

"So do I, commander. But if we reveal it, our mole, if we do have one, will know that we know about Section 31. And right now, feigned ignorance works in our favor."

* * *

T'Ser had finished breakfast and returned to her quarters. She was about to compose a message to her parents, when her door annunciator chimed. "Come in," she said.

She was surprised to see Lt. Sarnek standing in the doorway.

"Commander, I apologize for the intrusion, but I was wondering if I might speak with you for a moment."

T'Ser stood and gestured for the young Vulcan to enter. "What can I do for you, lieutenant?" she asked, cautiously.

Sarnek stood with his hands behind him, his expression was troubled. "I wish to express to you my regret that I was unable to help Dr. Baxter."

T'Ser was caught off-guard by the statement. "Sarnek - it was not your fault. I and the rest of the crew appreciate your effort to help him. Mind-melding with Dr. Baxter must have been difficult."

Sarnek frowned, not making eye contact with T'Ser. "But it was not difficult, commander. I was surprised to find how open his mind was - the experience was . . . enlightening." He looked up. "Though I have only been on this ship for a short while, the meld gave me a deep understanding and appreciation for him. He was truly a remarkable man."

T'Ser fought to maintain her composure. "Yes, yes he was. He was like a grandfather to me."

Sarnek nodded. "Yes, he felt very close to you, commander. And, to be honest with you, touching his mind has made me re-evaluate some of my own prejudices . . . towards you."

T'Ser could not speak, but nodded her head briefly.

"I wanted to say that . . . and also to say, I grieve with thee, T'Ser," the last spoken in formal Vulcan.

T'Ser found her voice at last. "Thank you, Sarnek. That means a great deal to me."

Sarnek nodded, but still appeared troubled. "There is one thing I do not understand, though."

"What would that be, Sarnek?"

"When I touched Dr. Baxter's mind, I discovered no proclivity for self-destruction. He was upset and ashamed, to be sure, but he also had a great . . . love for life. His religious beliefs, which were very strong, rejected suicide as an option. If anything, I found one over-riding principle that permeated his thoughts - hope." He looked up at T'Ser. "It is neither logical nor credible that Dr. Baxter would kill himself."

* * *
 
Keeping secrets from a crew smart enough to put the pieces together for themselves is a tricky business. I'm fascinated to see where this goes from here.

It's good to see Akinola confiding in Strauss. Though she hasn't been aboard for very long in relation to the others, she has been through a lot with these people so far.

Excellent chapter.
 
And as we see with Sarnek and T'Ser, they're already beginning to put 2 and 2 together. Akinola also realizes that in situations like this it is very easy to give in to paranoia.

The captain confiding in his first officer so early in their relationship is also very important--it immediately tells her that he trusts her implicitly and it gives him a sounding board--of course, this is provided that she isn't the mole!
 
A great chapter and I'm looking forward to see where you take this little mission. And just how "hardball" are the new Maquis playing?

I think it's the EMH because the new doc is too obvious a choice, but reprogramming an EMH would be easy for Section 31.
 
I like this story a lot so far. You do something here very well with which I'm struggling with my own story. You managed to create a very somber story-line about death, deception and intrigue and yet you effortlessly infuse it with great humor when the new CMO brings in the EMH. Finding a balance like that is not easy and you did it very well.

I have to be honest though, while the storyline has me quite interested I also find that Section 31 is slightly overused in fan-fiction. It almost appears as if every Trek series nowadays has to have at least one story dealing with the shadow organization. Unfortunately it makes them a lot less shadowy with each mention.

I should probably shut up now because who knows, next thing you see is a Star Eagle Adventure featuring S-31 and I'll be the biggest hypocrite around :lol:

Overused or not you've done a fine job interweaving them into this story and I for one am hooked now to find out what will happen next.
 
Thanks, all!

Akinola is taking a gamble trusting Strauss. Was it a wise move?

Will T'Ser and Sarnek confront the captain?

How hardball are the Maquis? I refer you to Gibraltar's current story: "Backup"

Who is the Section 31 mole? Is there really a Section 31 mole? Was Lhar'Shon telling the truth?

Why does Gralt sleep with a Teddy bear? (Oops. Damn! Wrong story line.)

The answer to these and other questions coming soon!
 
USS Bluefin
Approaching the Molari Badlands, Warp 6

The colorful maelstrom of the Molari Badlands was beautiful to behold. Captain Akinola always regarded it with a sense of awe and foreboding. Over the centuries, hundreds of ships from many worlds had been lost in this region of space. Ion storms, plasma storms, and gravimetric shear could reduce an unprotected ship to its base components in minutes. Some of the most terrifying moments that Akinola had experienced in his long career occurred in the Badlands.

Yet, the very nature of the region made it a haven for smugglers and pirates, seeking a hidden and less frequented space route to ply their criminal trade. And unsuspecting or inexperienced commercial and private ships often blundered into the region, looking for a short-cut or a "thrill." For the Border Cutter, USS Bluefin and her crew, it was part of the patrol area and just another aspect of the job.

"Drop us out of warp, Mr. Fralk. Ahead one-half impulse." ordered Akinola. "Full power to the shields and inertial dampeners, Ms. T'Ser."

The two officers acknowledged and implemented their orders with practiced ease. The ship rocked gently as it entered a dense cloud of charged ion particles.

"Okay, people, we're looking for two missing freighters, one Kriosian flagged ship, the SS Draskaar and one Rigellian transport, the SS Telenia Rial. Both ships last reported leaving the Klaamat system bound for Molari III. Neither ship has been seen or heard from in three days and no distress signals have been heard. This is the proverbial needle in a haystack, so we'll need full active scans - and a lot of luck!"

"For all the good scans will do in this murk," muttered T'Ser.

"Just keep your Mark I eyeballs open and your Mark II mouths shut and maybe we won't miss anything," said Akinola dryly.

"Aye sir. Shutting up, sir." said T'Ser.

* * *

Dr. Castille was reviewing some of Dr. Baxter's notes on the crew when he realized that someone was standing outside of his office. He stood and walked out to meet a rather petite, blond haired young woman with ice blue eyes. To his surprise, she wore the insignia of a full commander. She held out her hand. "Dr. Castille, I'm Inga Strauss, the XO. I thought I'd come by and introduce myself and see if you've settled in okay."

He returned the handshake. "Yes, thanks. I did have a couple of questions though. First, I noticed that there's no replicator in my cabin or in sickbay. Is there one centrally located? I've yet to find one."

Strauss gave an apologetic look and shook her head. "I'm afraid the nearest replicator is behind us on Star Station Echo, doctor. As is the nearest holo-deck."

Castille looked surprised. "Really? Huh! Well, that helps explain why there wasn't an EMH when I first came on board." He paused, "And it does explain why the captain went ballistic after I had the engineer install one."

Strauss' eyes went wide. "You installed an EMH? And you're alive to tell about it. I'm impressed!"

Castille looked confused. "I have to admit, I feel like I've stepped back into the 23rd century after serving on a Galaxy - class ship. Tell me, commander. Is the captain always so . . . intense?"

Strauss suppressed a smile. "He's very much old-school, doctor. He's proud of this ship and doesn't like to see it changed. But he's a very good CO and knows what he's doing. Believe me, his good traits far outweigh his quirks. Now, did you have any other questions?"

"Actually, yes. Since I couldn't find a replicator, I'm pretty hungry. Where does one eat on this ship?"

She smiled. "Come on, let me introduce you to Cookie."

* * *

SS Cielo Vista
Terran flagged freighter
Molari Badlands

The independent freight haulers known as "Boomers" still made up a sizable percentage of commercial shipping, even in the 24th century. Raul Espinoza's family had operated the old R-class freighter, Cielo Vista, for three generations. His wife, Rita, their 20 year old son, Juan and their jack-of-all-trades engineer, retired Starfleet Master Chief Devon Horne, kept the old freighter in good running order.

The Espinozas made a comfortable living by shipping freight and carrying passengers in the somewhat hazardous Borderlands region. Today, they were carrying machinery parts, computer equipment and medical supplies to Klaamat IV. They also carried three passengers - two humans and a Bajoran.

Raul and Juan manned the flight deck as they traversed the Badlands. While Raul preferred to avoid the dangerous area of space, he was a seasoned pilot and he had fitted his ship well. He looked at his son. "Juan, be sure to keep an eye on the field density of the aft shields. Devon replaced the grid last week, but watch it, just to be safe."

Juan grinned. "Sure, Pop. Just you keep an eye on the plasma eddies. I thought Mom was going to tear you a new one when we got in one last week. Food went everywhere!"

"Such language!" Raul shook his head in mock indignation.

The door to the flight deck opened and Devon Horne entered. "Well, there's no radiation leakage and the impulse engines are purring like kittens."

"Good," said Raul. "By the way, how are our passengers?"

Devon's expression changed. "To be honest, Raul, there's something about them that bothers me. They've pretty much stayed holed up in their compartment since we left Tranlinaca. And whenever I have seen them, they always stop talking when I'm around."

Raul chuckled. "This isn't exactly a cruise ship, Devon. And we've carried our share of shady characters before without any trouble."

"Yeah, well my trouble meter is pinging overtime."

Raul laughed. "That's just the plumbing you hear. I thought you were going to fix the forward head!"

Devon smiled. "Slave driver! Tell you what, let me get us some coffee and I'll tell you some old bull-shit fleet stories about the first Dominion war. Then I'll fix the head."

"Deal!"

* * *

The three Maquis operatives began to assemble their weapons in their cramped cabin in preparation for their assault on the crew of the Cielo Vista. If successful, this would be the third freighter that the Maquis captured in a week.

The Bajoran looked at her two compatriots. "Tylo, head to engineering. Mark, head toward the crew quarters and keep anyone there under wraps. I'm heading to the flight deck. If anyone gives you any grief, shoot them." She shouldered the phaser rifle and headed out of the cabin.

* * *

Devon was in a small galley alcove where they kept a food replicator when he heard footsteps on the deck grating echoing up the narrow corridor. Some sixth sense made him peek through a crack in the narrow doorway. The Bajoran woman was slowly approaching, holding a nasty-looking phaser rifle of Orion design. "Shit!" he said under his breath, but remained perfectly still. The woman seemed focused on the door to the flight deck. Maybe she would miss the tiny galley and think it was a storage or equipment locker.

Come on old man - think! You need a weapon! The old Master Chief indeed had a weapon, a type two phaser, stored in a footlocker in his cabin. Unfortunately, that was a deck below and 50 meters aft. He looked around the small galley for something, perhaps a knife, but nothing presented itself. Then he remembered what he was holding in his hand.

Luck, providence, or the Great Bird of the Galaxy was with him as the armed woman passed by the door behind which he hid. Devon's heart was beating so hard that he was afraid she might hear it. She moved forward to the door of the flight deck, looked back once more, then pushed it in quickly with the rifle raised.

"Don't make any sudden moves and you won't get hurt!" she announced to the startled father and son. Juan began to rise from his seat, but she quickly trained the weapon on him. "I said, no sudden moves! Sit-down!" Juan complied. "Just for the record, this does not have a stun setting."

"What do you want from us?" asked Raul. "If you want the cargo . . ."

She shook her head. "I don't care about you or the cargo. I'm only interested in the ship. Cooperate, and you and your family will live. If not, well . . . let's just say I don't have much to lose."

While the Bajoran talked, Devon moved behind her, as stealthily as he could. Unfortunately, Juan saw him and his eyes widened. The woman saw this and whirled.

Although Devon was still out of striking range, the cramped flight deck hindered the Bajoran's movement. As she swung the phaser rifle around, the barrel hit the aft engineering station. Devon took the container of scalding-hot coffee and launched it into the woman's face. Instantly, she screamed in pain and anger, pulling the trigger on the phaser rifle as she did so. The resulting deflected blast knocked her back, but part of the phased energy burst hit Devon. He collapsed onto the deck. Juan jumped up and grabbed the woman in a choke hold with his right arm while trying to grab the rifle with his left. Raul had the presence of mind to activate the distress signal, then went to help his son.

* * *

USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands

T'Ser looked up from her console and addressed the captain. "Sir, I'm picking up a distress signal from the SS Cielo Vista. Bearing 221 mark 48. They must be close - the signal is strong, but I can't give you distance. Too much ionic interference."

"Bring us about on that heading, navigator. Helm, increase speed to full impulse. Yellow alert." Akinola turned to T'Ser. "Anything else, commander?"

She continued to check her board. "Negative, sir. An automated distress call with course and bearing. No details on the nature of the emergency."

"Tell me about the ship."

T'Ser consulted the database and replied. "Class R freighter, 250 metric tons, Terran flagged vessel, the ship's captain is Raul Espinoza."

The name clicked for Akinola. "I know them! Or at least I know Espinoza's father. Nice family, run a legitimate shipping business." His mind raced with possibilities, none of them good. "With two freighters missing and now the Cielo Vista in trouble, we're not taking any chances." He turned to face Senior Chief Brin at the aft station. "Solly, get a boarding party ready to go on one of the stallions. I've got a hunch we might encounter hostiles, so go loaded out with phaser rifles and armor."

Brin rose from his seat, moving quickly to the turbo-lift. "Aye, sir."

Akinola turned to face the viewscreen, willing the cutter to move faster.

* * *
 
The new and improved Mk. 2 Maquis have branched out into hijacking I see. Well, they had to get those Q-Ships somewhere...

Now, the question is, can Espinoza and his family hold out long enough for the Bluefin to arrive?
 
SS Cielo Vista
Molari Badlands

The Bajoran Maquis operative smashed an elbow into Juan Espinoza's midsection, causing him to lose his hold on her and the phaser rifle. Raul stood quickly, only to find himself staring at the emitter of the rifle. He closed his eyes, expecting impending death.

KLANG!

Raul opened his eyes to see the woman crumpled on the deck, blood trickling from a scalp wound. Devon Horne stood over her, the now dented coffee carafe in his head. He still looked dazed and in pain, but very much alive.

"Are you two okay?" rasped Horne, his sides heaving.

Raul nodded, then looked with concern at his son, who sat on the deck trying to re-catch his breath.

"I'm . . . okay . . . Pop . . . Need to . . . catch my breath," the younger Espinoza wheezed.

Raul began to move out of the flight deck. "Rita!" he said, an edge of panic in his voice. "I must get to her before . . ."

The old Master Chief grabbed Raul by the upper arm, stopping him. "No, Raul - use your head! There are two more of them somewhere on the ship, probably armed. Paul - secure her arms. Raul,get on the subspace and call for help." Horne reached down and picked up the phaser rifle in a practiced manner. "I'll get Rita. Lock the door to the flight deck - understood?"

Raul nodded, "Devon - please, find Rita . . ." his voice tailed off as tears formed in his eyes.

Devon grabbed the younger man on the shoulder and peered into his eyes. "I will not let them hurt her. You have my word!"

Raul nodded and turned back to the controls to activate the subspace communicator. Horne held the phaser rifle in a defensive posture and moved off the flight deck, closing and securing the door. He fought against the burning pain that radiated through his side and chest. "Please, God!" he said quietly, "Don't let me screw up!"

* * *

USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands, en route to the SS Cielo Vista

Senior Chief Brin found the rest of the boarding party in the armory off the hangar deck, preparing for their mission.
As he pulled on an armored vest, his communicator beeped.

"Akinola to Chief Brin."

"Brin, go ahead Captain."

"Solly, we just received a message from the captain of the Cielo Vista. They have three hostiles on board, one down. The first had a phaser rifle and we can assume the same about the others. We're downloading a schematic of the ship to your tactical scanners."

Chief Brin looked at the combat scanner strapped to his forearm. "Confirmed, captain. I've got it up now."

"Good. And Solly - the engineer on the ship is an old friend. Do you remember Master Chief Devon Horne?"

Brin laughed. "Hell, yes sir! Glad to know we'll have one more on our side."

"According to Captain Espinoza, Horne was wounded but managed to take out the first hijacker. He's got a phaser rifle and heading to rescue the captain's wife. So watch out for him when you board."

"Understood, sir. Do we have an ETA yet?"

"T'Ser finally got a clean fix on the ship. We're five minutes out. Load up the stallion and dock on the ventral port. Akinola out."

Brin turned to the other five members of the boarding party. "Okay, people, you heard the captain. We've got at least two active hostiles and a retired Master Chief running around with guns. Take down the hostiles - alive if you can, but don't take chances. Check your tactical scanners. This freighter has tight corridors and a lot of hidey holes. Watch your six and keep in sight of your partner." Brin reached into his locker and pulled out a wicked looking knife and slid it into a thigh scabbard. "Let's load up!"

* * *

SS Cielo Vista
Molari Badlands

Devon Horne moved stealthily aft, then slipped down a Jeffrey's tube to the engineering level. He really didn't know where the other two hijackers would go, but he assumed one would try to secure engineering. He hoped that they had not found or hurt Rita.

He slid out of the Jeffrey's tube into main engineering. The tube hatch was hidden behind a Deuterium tank, so his entrance was unnoticed. He eased around the tank then stepped out, rifle at the ready.

No one was there.

A sudden metallic sound on the catwalk saved his life. He dodged left as a bolt of blue energy hit the deck where he stood a moment before. He squeezed off two blasts blindly in the direction of fire as he retreated back toward the Jeffrey's tube. Cursing his clumsy move, he headed back up two levels to try a different approach.

* * *

Chief Brin maneuvered the Star Stallion under the freighter, then brought the universal docking ring into contact with the freighter's air-lock.

"I read firm dock and seal, senior chief," said Corpsman Sanders, seated in the right-hand seat.

Brin turned and faced the boarding party. "Chief Deryx, you and Sanders head to the bridge and check out the crew and the captured hostile. Bragdon and Worth, head to engineering. Gandy, you're with me. Let's move!"

Brin eased into the corridor off of the airlock and scanned both directions. "I'm reading two life signs twenty meters aft, one down in engineering and one on deck one moving aft," he whispered. "Set weapons on heavy stun. Deryx, Sanders, Go!"

The Denobulan CPO and the corpsman moved stealthily but quickly forward. Brin then dispatched the next two. Finally, he turned to the husky Centauran, 2nd class petty officer Gandy. He indicated the two life signs that were together just twenty meters away on his scanner. "Have a couple of stun grenades ready," Brin whispered.

* * *

Horne slid down a ladder to deck two and paused, chest heaving. His left arm was numb and he had broken into a cold sweat. Hold together, old man, he thought. He moved forward as quietly as he could. As he turned a corner, he was shocked to see two armed figures, wearing dark armor and helmets with weapons leveled at him. He quickly lowered his weapon and looked quizzically as one of the figures raised the blast-visor on his helmet.

"Solly? Solly Brin?" Horne asked, in amazement.

* * *
 
And its looking like the tables have turned on the Maquis--but there's still the matter of Rita...

And yes, there's nothing more dangerous than a retired master chief with a pot of scalding coffee.
 
I wonder at all the stories told in the senior NCO clubs around Starfleet. Might make an interesting vignette... Let me tell you about the time I...

I still find the different aspect of the Bluefin's missions one of the most fascinating things about the series. You are pulling it off quite well.
 
SS Cielo Vista
Molari Badlands

Markos Askinopolous was getting worried. He looked at the terrified woman, Rita Espinoza, with growing trepidation. His Maquis cell leader, Qel Sorna, was supposed to have contacted him once she had secured the bridge of the freighter. But the deadline for her to contact him had passed ten minutes ago and Markos had a strong hunch that the mission was going sideways, badly.

Worse still, Qel had ordered him to kill the Espinoza woman and any other remaining ship's crew if she did not report on time. When they planned the mission, he saw no problem with that. Even after they boarded the ship three days ago, he thought he could handle killing if and when the time came. But now . . .

He avoided eye contact with the woman who stared at him with wide-eyed fear, tears streaming down her face. He considered contacting Qel or Brad, but that would violate protocol. He wiped a sweaty palm on his jacket and shifted the phaser rifle. One way or the other, he was going to have to make a decision, and soon.

* * *

Solly grinned at the perplexed expression on Devon Horne's face. "Hey, Master Chief, long time no see! Understand you have a bit of a situation on board and we were in the neighborhood, so . . ."

Horne was feeling a degree of relief. "Damn, Solly! You have no idea how happy I am to see you guys. When did you come over? You didn't beam in, did you?"

Chief Brin shook his head. "Too much ionic interference. Our team came over in a stallion, docked below. I've got two headed to the bridge, two to engineering and then Gandy and me."

Horne nodded. "The one who attacked us on the flight deck is down. I crowned her with a coffee pot, but not before she caught me with a phaser burst."

Brin's expression turned to one of concern. "We need to get you seen about."

Horne's expression hardened. "Negative! We get Rita clear, then I'll worry about me."

Solly didn't have time for arguments. "Okay. Look, I'm reading two lifeforms in a cabin about ten meters down and on the left. Who might that be?"

"That's Raul and Rita's cabin. If she's in there, then one of those punks is with her. I got into a shoot-out with the second perp just a couple of minutes ago in engineering."

Brin passed that information along to the second fire team heading to engineering by sending a text message on his tactical scanner. "Okay. We need to take this guy and take him down fast before he can hurt the hostage. Devon, what are they packing?"

"The Bajoran woman was carrying this." He indicated the Orion phaser rifle he now carried.

Chief Brin uttered an Orion curse. "Nasty rifle, that. No stun setting, so if he gets a shot off at Mrs. Espinoza . . ." He left that thought dangling in the air.

Gandy looked at the two senior NCO's. "I've been looking at these doors and I can get us in there. You two be ready to take out the perp." He explained his idea.

Brin looked thoughtful. "Yeah, that might just work. But you might get your ass fried in the process, Gandy."

"I've got on armor and my hide's tougher than either of yours," said the brawny Centauran.

"Okay," agreed Brin. "Let's do it. Master Chief, cover our six. You don't have any armor and you've already been shot once."

Horne snorted. "You don't have to remind me!"

* * *

Markos had waited long enough. He flipped open the old communicator he carried. "Qel! Have you secured the bridge?"

Silence was his only reply. "Brad! Come in! Do you copy?"

Brad did not reply, but instead of silence, Markos heard a slight noise near the door. As if a small animal was scratching. Markos wondered if the crew had a pet dog on board. He moved closer to the door and put his ear against it listening.

Suddenly, the entire door smashed in. Markos was caught in a wave of smashed density board and massive Centauran. He fell backward against the deck, crushed under the nearly 200 kilos of muscle and armor of the madly grinning petty officer Gandy. Markos' vision began to dim from the knock on his skull and his inability to breathe under the massive man. Chief Brin stood on Markos' arm and removed the phaser rifle, aiming his weapon at Marko's face. Gandy spoke, mere centimeters from the dazed man's face. "You're busted, asshole!"

* * *

In the engineering section, Brad Morgan, formerly a Starfleet ensign, moved backwards on the catwalk, trying to get a clear shot at the main doors to engineering. He was pretty sure he had missed the old engineer who tried to enter earlier so he wanted a better vantage point. He continued to back until he suddenly felt something cold and solid against the back of his neck. His blood turned cold.

"Hi there!" said Security Specialist Lisa Worth. "Be a good boy and hand me the rifle or I'll have to vaporize your head."

Caught between anger and fright, the Maquis operative complied. Then the other security specialist, Missy Bragdon, appeared out of the shadows and put a stubby phaser rifle into Morgan's face. "How 'bout you assume the position, sweetie? We got a nice, warm brig all set and waiting on you."

Lisa kicked Morgan's feet apart and leaned him against the bulkhead with his arms pulled painfully behind him. She put the auto-restraints around his waist and wrists. Then she texted Brin on the tactical scanner, "Sweeper two has subject two in custody. Awaiting instructions."

* * *

On the flight deck of the Cielo Vista, Corpsman Sanders checked out Juan and found him uninjured, only having the breath knocked out of him in the scuffle. The Bajoran woman was still unconscious, but Chief Deryx kept his weapon trained on her, all the same. Sanders stood to check her when he saw the message indicator on his scanner flash. He read it and smiled. "Good news! Mrs. Espinoza is fine and both of the other subjects are in custody."

Raul Espinoza slumped down in his chair, relief evident on his face. "Madre de Dios, what a day. Thank you so much!"

Chief Deryx grinned, "Glad to help, sir."

The elder Espinoza shook his head. "Why do you think they did this?"

Sanders glanced up as he knelt over the prone woman. "At this point, we don't know much more than you." he ran his medical tricorder over the injured woman - a concussion, as he suspected. But I imagine Chief Brin will know something before we leave this ship!, he did not say aloud.

* * *
 
Well, the hijackers have been dealt with and I have a feeling Chief Brin is going to be his usual 'persuasive' self and will be getting some answers soon. Just as Starfleet has gotten harder since the Dominion War, so has the Maquis.

Very nicely done!
 
SS Cielo Vista
Molari Badlands

Chief Brin glanced at his tactical scanner and noticed, with satisfaction, that all the perps were in custody. He tapped his comm badge, "Brin to Bluefin,"

"Go ahead, chief," said T'Ser.

"The ship is secure. We have three subjects in custody, one wounded. The crew is alive and safe with one wounded. We'll transport the prisoners and wounded over shortly. Have a security detail standing by to take the prisoners to the brig."

"Acknowledged. Bluefin standing by."

Brin and Gandy pulled the still stunned Maquis operative off of the deck and placed him in a chair. "Gandy, you and Devon escort Mrs. Espinoza to the flight deck. I'll be along in a minute."

Gandy gave Chief Brin a questioning look, but said nothing. He and Horne escorted the still trembling woman out of the cabin and into the corridor.

Brin removed his helmet and stared at Markos. "Now, my friend.You and I are going to have a little talk and I better get some answers. They had better be truthful answers." He drew the long knife out of his thigh sheath and placed the tip against Markos' stomach. "Or else, you and Mr. Blade are going to become very intimate."

Markos, though still groggy, turned pale. He looked in the Orion's eyes and saw death - his own.

* * *

USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands

Akinola headed toward the wardroom for breakfast. He was very pleased with the speed and efficiency of the boarding party in subduing the hijackers and rescuing the crew. He would get the low-down from Brin during the de-brief. Now, though, he was looking forward to a few minutes of quiet over some of Cookie's Belgian waffles and coffee.

He picked up a tray from the galley and crossed the hall into the wardroom. It was empty except for Lt. Sarnek, who was languidly picking at a bowl of fruit. "Mr. Sarnek," Akinola said, by way of greeting. He placed his tray across from the Vulcan officer and filled a heavy porcelain mug with coffee, adding just a pinch of salt.

As he sat, Sarnek raised an eyebrow in a quizzical manner.

"Something wrong, lieutenant?" asked Akinola.

"I noticed that you added sodium chloride to your coffee. I do not believe I have ever seen that done."

Akinola smiled as he poured syrup over his waffles. "You just haven't been around NCO's much. Remember, I was an enlisted man a lot longer than I've been an officer. Adding salt to coffee is an old Earth naval tradition dating back centuries. Old chiefs would add a pinch of salt to coffee - partly to cut the bitterness, partly for luck. It's just a tradition, really. I don't think it really changes the taste of the coffee."

Sarnek frowned slightly. "Do you think it adds . . . luck?"

Akinola chewed a bite of waffle, then pointed his fork at Sarnek for emphasis. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Sarnek had difficulty answering this odd bit of logic. He changed the subject. "Captain, there is something I wish to say, but I must confess I find it difficult to do so."

"Just spit it out, lieutenant." Akinola took a sip of coffee.

"I don't believe that Dr. Baxter killed himself."

It was Akinola's turn to spew.

* * *

SS Cielo Vista
Molari Badlands

Chief Brin escorted the still living and very relieved Markos Askinopoulos to the flight deck. He put him down next to the other young Maquis operative and the now conscious and very pissed Bajoran woman.

"Looks like we've got us a little Maquis cell," said Chief Brin.

"You just couldn't keep your mouth shut, you little . . ." hissed Qel Sorna.

"Quiet!" warned Chief Deryx. He looked at Senior Chief Brin. "Mrs. Espinoza is fine, just traumatized by the experience. She declined any treatment, though, so I guess we'll just take Mr. Horne over and let Doc check him out."

Brin looked at the Espinoza family. "I'm very glad you folks are alright! We'd like to borrow Devon for a bit to get him checked out and get some information, then we'll bring him back over. At that time, we'd like to take statements from you, then you can be on your way. Please let us know if you need anything. Sanders? Why don't you hang around here until we get back."

Sanders nodded, understanding Solly's intent. The Espinozas needed to be 'talked down' from their experience and Sanders was well-trained in that regard.

Brin turned to the rest of the boarding party. "Let's get the prisoners on the stallion. Master Chief, you can ride shotgun with me."

* * *

USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands

Captain Akinola fixed Sarnek with a sharp gaze. "Mr. Sarnek, how did you come by this information?"

Sarnek tilted his head, puzzled by the captain's emotional intensity. "As I shared with Commander T'Ser, the mind-touch I shared with Dr. Baxter convinced me that he was incapable of self-destructive acts. I suppose it is possible that something else happened to change that, but that is most unlikely."

Akinola relaxed somewhat and nodded his head. Looking around to make sure they were still alone, he leaned forward and spoke quietly but firmly. "You are correct, Mr. Sarnek. Dr. Baxter did not commit suicide. But hear this well, you are not to share that knowledge with anyone else from this point on, unless I give you permission. Understood?"

Sarnek nodded. "Understood, sir. May I ask why this must remain a secret."

Akinola sat back. "You may ask, lieutenant. But, I'm not saying for the moment. I may divulge that to you later. Now, did you share this with anyone else besides T'Ser?"

"No one, captain."

Akinola relaxed a degree more. "Good. Keep it that way. And thank you for coming to me with this, Sarnek. I appreciate it." he paused, then added. "Thank you, also, for what you did for Doc. I consider what you did to be a heroic act. I won't forget it!"

Sarnek maintained his stoic expression. "I only regret that I could not do more for him."

"Sarnek, believe me, you helped. And you had no way of preventing what happened to him." Akinola stood. "I need to speak to Commander T'Ser."

* * *

The Star Stallion settled gently on its designated landing pad in the hangar bay. Four armed security crewmen approached as the whine of the engines faded. The hatch opened and Chief Deryx stepped off followed by the three restrained prisoners. Senior Chief Brin followed and spoke to the lead security crewman. "Get them settled in the brig - separate cells, then let sickbay know the woman probably suffered a concussion. Doc will probably want to check her. First, I'm going to have him check the freighter's engineer."

Senior Chief Brin began to escort retired Master Chief Horne off the hangar deck. As they crossed the deck, Horne's legs suddenly buckled and he grabbed his chest. Brin turned, alarmed at the paleness of Horne's face and the profusion of sweat on his forehead. "Devon?"

Horne dropped to his knees, hand still clutching at his sternum. "Chest . . ." he wheezed, "feels like a shuttle craft is sitting on it." Then his eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the deck.

Instantly, Solly, slapped his comm badge. "Brin to sickbay - medical emergency on the hangar deck!"

Without waiting for a reply he bent over his fallen friend and checked his neck for a pulse. Finding none, he began CPR as a corpsman raced across the deck with a first aid kit to help. Momentarily, Dr. Castille and two additional corpsman arrived on the run.

* * *

Castille exited the critical care cubical and came to speak to Akinola and Senior Chief Brin. His face showed fatigue but also a slight smile. "We've got him stable and resting comfortably for the moment, although it was touch and go. Chief, your quick reaction probably saved his life!"

Akinola slapped the Orion on the back. "Good job, Solly." He addressed Castille, "So, what happened? Was it a heart attack?"

Castille nodded. "Yes, that was the major event, anyway. While his cardio-vascular system was in overall good shape, the phaser hit he took negatively affected the electrical rhythm of his heart. He went into ventricular tachycardia. That, along with the physical and emotional stress resulted in the myocardial infarction."

Brin frowned. "Um, so you're saying the phaser blast caused the heart attack."

"Yes, that's what I said," replied Castille with a bit of irritation.

"So, what's his prognosis, doctor?" asked Akinola.

"I expect a complete recovery. I've begun nano-therapy to remove any damage to the pericardium and drug therapy to stimulate the healing process. The phaser burns we can repair easily with the dermal regenerator. A few days of rest and he should be fine." Castille picked up a medi-kit and medical tri-corder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to check on the woman in the brig."

"Can we see him?" asked Brin.

Castille considered, "I don't see why not. Just keep it brief, he's still pretty groggy."

Akinola and Brin entered the cubicle. Horne lay in a bio-bed, an oxygen canula under his nose and a dermal regenerator covering his torso, emitting a faint blue glow.

"Master Chief?" asked Akinola, quietly.

Horne's eyes fluttered open. He squinted, looking at Akinola, trying to get his eyes to focus. A crooked grin formed on his face. "Frak me! It's Chief Akinola! What're you doin' in this joint?" Horne asked, thickly.

Akinola indicated the four pips on his collar and grinned. "Horne, you're drunk. I haven't been a CPO in over twenty years."

Horne's eyes widened a bit and he spoke, muzzily. "Damn! I must be drunk. Akinola a captain . . . whoulda thunk it . . ." Horne's eyes closed again he began to snore.

Akinola shook his head and Brin grinned broadly as they left the cubicle. "Solly, inform the Espinozas about Horne's condition. Tell them we can stay with them in transit a few days until he's fit enough to rejoin them. Then you can tell me about all the fun you had boarding the freighter."

"Aye, sir. Too bad you couldn't join us!"

Akinola smirked. "Watch it, chief. You're treading on sensitive ground."

* * *

The ironic thing about the Section 31 mole was he had no idea that he was one. He had never heard of Section 31 and had no idea that he was spying on their behalf.

He had been approached by a senior officer at a starbase, ostensibly to be a part of an experiment with encrypted messages. He had been ordered to simply report on the activities of the cutter, where they were headed, what transpired on a given day, and the like. When he expressed concern, he was assured that his CO was aware of the experiment, but he still was not to discuss it with his CO or anyone else on board, lest the experiment be "compromised."

He was given a small device that translated his reports about the Bluefin into innocuous letters to his parents, which went out with the daily dispatches. Of course, the messages went to Section 31.

He completed his report and transferred it to his document through the encryption device. He was always amazed at the "letters" to his parents that appeared. They always seemed innocent, plausible and read as if he had written them himself. Occasionally, he wondered about this, but dismissed such thoughts as paranoia. It's a Starfleet program, he would think. What could possibly be wrong with it?
 
A very, very well done installment. And as the Maquis are rounded up, the plot thickens with Section 31. Nice idea as regards the mole--the best kind of spy is the spy who doesn't even realize he is one--he thinks he's just doing his duty as a good officer should.

And now we have a new duo: Solly and Mr. Blade--when you absolutely, positively have to know about it yesterday! :)
 
A very nice wrap-up to the freighter rescue. The Maquis were definitely picking on the wrong transport ship, as well as carrying out their attack in the wrong Border Cutter’s patrol area. Akinola’s crew know not only how to carry out the tactical rescue op, but how to care for the freighter’s crew in the aftermath.

Section 31 has its eyes on the Bluefin, which naturally doesn’t bode well.

And Solly Brin earns the Pava Lar’ragos Spill Your Guts Bitch! ™ seal of approval! :lol:
 
USS Bluefin
departing the Molari Badlands en-route to Klaamat IV

Captain Akinola took a mug and filled it with coffee from the servitor in his cabin. He sat at his desk to review reports when his desk communicator chimed.

"Bridge to captain. We're receiving an in-coming message from the cutter Bozeman" said Ensign Vashtee.

"Pipe it down here, ensign." Momentarily, the Border Service insignia on the desk viewer was replaced by the smiling face of Captain Gabriel Bush, the current commanding officer of the USS Bozeman.

"Greetings, Joseph. How was the ride through the badlands?" said the sandy haired captain.

"Pretty tame, for once, Gabe. We did have a bit of fun breaking up a hijacking by a Maquis cell group."

"Yeah, we heard. That's one of the reasons I'm here - to take your prisoners off your hands and transport them to Starbase 415." said Bush.

Akinola was surprised. "I thought we'd drop them off to Federation Security on Klaamat IV."

"Change of plans. The 'bearded one' is on board, reliving his glory days. He's got new orders for you."

Akinola grinned at the nick-name for Admiral Bateson. "You still let him drive that thing?"

Captain Bush rolled his eyes in mock frustration. "Are you kidding?" He walked closer to the viewer and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. "He's about to drive us all nuts, Joseph! I'm about ready to fire him out a torpedo tube!"

Off screen a voice boomed. "I heard that, Gabe!" Admiral Bateson strode into view and placed a fatherly arm around Bush. "Forgive Captain Bush, Joseph. He seems to forget that I still out-rank him, even if the powers that be let him command my ship, however temporarily."

Akinola grinned. "Hello, admiral. I understand you have new orders for us."

"I do, let me go to my . . .that is Gabe's ready room and we'll talk."

"Standing by, sir." said Akinola.

* * *

Commander Strauss was preparing for her duty shift when her door annunciator chimed. "Come!" she called.

Her cabin door hissed open to reveal Lt. Bane standing, his arms behind his back.

Inga smiled at the sight of the Australian lieutenant. "Nigel! Wie gehts!How are you this morning."

He returned the smile. "I'll be doing much better if a certain lovely,German commander would consider accompanying me to the ship's holo-movie during beta shift."

Inga cocked an eyebrow and regarded him with a coy expression. "I don't know," she said playfully. "It depends on what's showing."

"It's a remake of Gone With the Wind, the original Klingon opera version." he said, deadpan.

She made a face. "Is it any good?"

"Absolutely abysmal." He produced a rose from behind his back. "That's why I brought a bribe."

She walked over, coming very close to him. "You think that with charm and a rose that I'll just melt and go see that awful movie."

"That's the idea," he said with a grin.

"Good plan," she said, putting her arms around his neck and pressing her warm lips against his. They lingered a moment, then Inga took the rose and placed in in a water glass on her sink. She took his arm as they headed toward the bridge. "Where did you find a rose? I know you didn't replicate it!"

Bane had a very pleased expression on his face. "Cookie maintains a hydroponics garden for herbs and the like. Lately, he's been experimenting with other plants, including roses."

Strauss raised an eye-brow. "And you owe him, right?"

Band nodded his expression now slightly worried. "Big-time."

* * *

T'Ser sat in the command chair on the bridge, watching the Bozeman keeping station nearby. Her thoughts were elsewhere, however. Akinola and Commander Strauss had met with her yesterday and confirmed Sarnek's suspicion that Dr. Baxter had not committed suicide. The captain had further confided in her about the conversation with Captain Lhar'Shon that implicated Section 31 in Baxter's murder.

T'Ser had accepted the explanation and agreed to keep the matter confidential for now. But, she realized, the captain had not implicitly stated that she could not do some snooping on her own. She was determined to discover the mole and any information that would lead them to Dr. Baxter's killer. Vengeance, she knew, was not logical. But then, no one had ever accused her of living her life by logic!

* * *

Captain Akinola sat in his quarters, drinking coffee and viewing the image of his squadron commander, Admiral Morgan Bateson, on his computer screen.

“That was a nice job your boarding party did on the Cielo Vista, Joseph. Quick and clean with no casualties. That’s what I like to hear!”

Akinola nodded and took a sip of coffee. “Senior Chief Brin keeps the sweeper teams well-trained and ready, admiral. In fact, I’d like to recommend him for promotion to master chief. He’s got enough years in and he certainly deserves it.”

Bateson smiled. “Agreed. But I’ve got to run it through BuPers first. And, as you know, there’s a cap on the number of active duty master chiefs in Starfleet.”

“I’d appreciate any leverage you could add, sir.”

“You’ve got it, captain. Now, for your new orders,” said Bateson.

Akinola frowned slightly. “You’re pulling us off the search for those freighters?”

“Not me. This comes from up the chain. You’re probably aware of the troubles in occupied Cardassian space – food shortages, outbreaks of disease, sectarian violence, the whole, nasty apocalyptic package. The Maquis are making a come-back and the Klingons have been causing some trouble too. They’re both into the “eye for an eye” thing pretty heavily with the Cardies. You’re being assigned patrol and SAR duty in sector 21509. There will be some other ships handling convoy and defense duties, including an old Connie.”

Akinola raised his eyebrows. “A Constitution – class starship? I haven’t seen one since I was a crewman, third!

Bateson had a wistful look. “Fantastic ships, Joseph! Timeless and graceful design. Did I tell you I served on the old Lexington under Commodore Robert Wesley in my ‘previous life’?”

Akinola raised his coffee mug to hide his wide grin. “You may have mentioned it, sir.”

Bateson sighed, “Anyway, your orders have been transmitted. How soon can you depart your current station?”

“We’ll be ready in two hours, sir.”

* * *
 
I only have a quick minute here, but I wanted to say that I'm enjoying this installment immensely; as much as your previous efforts. I was prompted to post just now because of how much I particularly enjoy your writing and characterizations of Admiral Bateson, and his interactions with your other characters. While I think all your work is very good and exciting and compelling, those scenes in particular really seem to jump off the page and grab me, for some reason. I have a feeling you must have a particular soft spot for him (as do I.) ;)

Well done, and thanks for another enjoyable ride! :thumbsup:
 
Thanks, TM - and yes, I definitely have a soft spot for Morgan Bateson. Consdering the character's brief screen time on a single TNG episode, he's providing a lot of mileage and fun! His character just continues to unfold and I enjoy writing him immensely.

Let me recommend you check out DavidFalkayn's latest installment in "Sutherland: Messages from Earth." He's written a marvelous vignette where Bateson (before his promotion to admiral) and Capt. Shelby get together and reminisce. A truly great job on David's part!
 
Nice segue into Gibraltar's tale. Add me to the list of people who enjoy Morgan Bateson. Even though Kelsey Grammar only had a few minutes of screen time with him, he made the most of it. And thank you for your kind words on my little vignette with Shelby and Bateson--I figured those two would get along with each other.

Very well done!
 
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