USS Kestrel - Hunting Grounds

[mirandafave]

USS Kestrel - A Den of Thieves

A Den of Thieves​

Senior Officers' Lounge

As the rest of the senior staff filed out to prepare for the assigned tasks, McGregor held back knowing his XO had something left to say. "You don't look too happy Molly."

Remaining seated at the conference table opposite to McGregor, she said nothing with the two of them staring one another down. "You should know Molly that I'm rather good at staring contests."

Molly eventually responded dully, "No, I'm not particularly thrilled."

"The mission troubles you?"

She rapped the table with her knuckles. "What galls me is just how casual you are about it all. I've not known you to be so flippant when it comes to putting lives on the line."

"It's hardly a major Op Molly. One simple little ship to board, that's all."

"One simple little ship that so far we have no idea as to where it is." She spread her hands as if seeking an answer as to where it might be found.

Dexter's voice came through. "Bridge to McGregor. Sensors have detected a ship on the periphery of our sensor range. Shall we adjust heading?"

McGregor clicked the wall mounted comm. system and called into the speaker. "No. Keep on this heading for the present moment. I'll update shortly."

Molly narrowed her eyes as she shook her head. "You knew that was going to happen. You just set me up to ask right before the sensors would pick it up." He shrugged and grinned. In reference to his know how she asked, "Care to explain?"

Effecting a magnanimous tone McGregor actually came off as boasting. "Oh that, yes I've just discovered the position of Thaddeus' ship. However, I don't want Thaddeus to know. I'm not going to tip my hand just yet. Let's let Thaddeus think he has gotten away."

"Bridge to McGregor, detected ship has changed course and is no longer on our sensors."

"Very good, maintain course."Molly arched her eyebrow by way of questioning McGregor. "I sat up all night doing my math Molly. I read the traffic reports, the constabulary logs, comm. chatter as well as reviewing the navigational buoy logs. All very boring, but a little whisky and a little Yeoman Harris to help me with my calculations, my geometric triangles and tantric positions - oops - I mean triangulations and calculations."

"Ok. However, why then the lack of chasing him down? Why aren't we chasing him down? Why aren't you changing course?"

"I will and I shall." He examines a PADD. "Just not yet. I don't want to spook Thaddeus. I want to keep him on this general heading."McGregor sensed Molly's patience was running thin. "All part of my grand plan."

It did little to mollify her. Getting testy with the lack of answers, Molly retorted, "A grand plan that is vague about certain details."

He scoffed. "Hardly vague."

Molly exclaimed just tempering her anger. "Really! So how are we going to catch and board Thaddeus' ship?"

"It's a simple matter of running up to him and a few rat traps to punch out his lights. And I provided plenty of details on the SARAH itself."

"Those are details are details I don't care much for. Ensign Jex as pilot for one of the Stallions for example is a detail I do not overly care for. You do recall that she is in actuality an engineer." Molly stabbed the table with her forefinger.

"Ah yes, but the slug was a pilot."

Molly rolled her eyes. With McGregor she wondered whether they would ever come down. "The slug - the trill symbiont - may have been a pilot in a previous life but it wasn't the slug that graduated from Starfleet Academy. It was the host, Deodzi who graduated as a pilot, before she was joined."

McGregor pulled an incredulous face. "Of course the slug didn't graduate from the Academy. It would have had no hands to hold the scroll." Bending his elbows, he tucked his arms in towards his body and mocked flailing futilely with his hands miming a short reaching slug.

After long years of working with McGregor, Molly knew to turn his little jokes against him to score a point. "It wouldn't have had hands to pilot a ship either."

Her response made him rub his beard, which was as close as he would come to conceding the point, other than to say, "A good point."

Molly folded her arms smugly as sticking it to her captain. "Another good point is the fact that some of the information you have used here has been kindly provided by T'Hos."

He leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head. "And corroborated by intelligence reports, comm. and navigation buoy records, and various other sources."

"Still, all this information provided by T'Hos is a little convenient."

"Hardly convenient Molly, I sat up all night doing the math, remember."

"T'Hos is smart enough to leave a golden breadcrumb trail for you to follow and have you work it out enough to make you think that you are outsmarting him. All so that you walk into his trap."

"Indeed it could be a trap - but a good one. One with the right bait to lure me in. And yes it is a golden breadcrumb trail but you know what Molly, when tracking shit you follow the smell. Bridge, adjust heading to ..." McGregor instructed the bridge and awaited confirmation. Looking back up through the large window, he noted the change in warp speed and direction. With a tilt of his head, the captain appeared to sense the change of the Kestrel's course through the feel of the deck plates alone. Turning to Cartwright, he spread his hands as if to say viola. "See, I'm full of details."

"Yes and then putting T'Vel in charge of one of the teams."

"Ah that's your fault! I wanted to go remember. Don't you trust T'Vel?"

"I get the distinct impression that you planned that all along. It also strikes me McGregor, that you are the one with trust issues. You won't tell me what is going on. Starfleet was all too happy to dump me here to act as your watchdog sometimes your guide dog but I'm not a lapdog. If you won't trust me, I'm of no use to you. I give you leeway on lots of things McGregor but only because I can usually trust that you are doing the right thing. And I can recognise the times when I know I can't trust you to reign it in. But if you can't trust me then there's no point my serving as your XO."

"Molly! I wouldn't have any other! You're the only one that ever lasted. Don't worry about T'Vel. Judy says she is fine and dandy; not to mention that Rah is on the team with her. Personally, I would be more worried about Rah. I do fear he might choke on a fur ball. I must speak to Judy actually about getting Rah groomed. I wonder should I get him neutered too when I'm at it."

"McGregor."

"Ock Molly, trust me, I do trust you. I'm just choosing to leave your hands clean of this whole affair."

"What! Why?"

"Pfft! Do you think I'd trust information found from T'Hos that seems to highlight many of his competitors' operations and yet revealing very little of his own? Do you think I'd trust it based on official records and Starfleet Intelligence alone? I made use of the information provided by Paul."

Cartwright looked up shocked at the mention of her ex-husband. "What's Paul got to do with this?"

"Nothing at all, other than providing us with useful corroborating evidence that verified much of what T'Hos gave away. Of course, T'Hos gave the information away freely to his own ends. He wants to send us on a wild goose chase - only it ain't so wild or goosey. Instead, it is an all too tempting target. That takes us away from hunting T'Hos down."

"So Paul's information confirmed what T'Hos had."

"It took a little homework, but yup it substantiated the claims the dossier gathered from T'Hos' illegal operations on Aubrellis."

"Why so secretive?"

"I didn't want to name names. I don't want Starfleet to arrest Paul. Worse still, I don't want T'Hos to learn we know of his operations from Paul. Otherwise, Paul will end up a deader. He may yet Molly."

Molly did not want to acknowledge that reality. "Why?"

McGregor leaned forward and the play of light on his face hooded his eyes in shadow as his tone turned dark. "He's a bastard. A charming good-hearted bastard with a great taste in liquor but whilst still a bastard he is your ex-husband bastard. Are we done? Satisfied?"

She shook her head. "I am far from satisfied."

His tone suddenly lightened as he jested. "Normally, I would make a crude comment about your sex life Molly, but I shan't this time."

"You better not. Or your tantric triangle will be missing a vital side. And I get that you are still keeping something from me."

"Oh I like to keep you on your toes Molly. It would get boring if I didn't spring a few surprises along the way."

"Such as doing this to protect Paul?!"

Wagging a finger, he sternly corrected Molly's misconception. "No Molly. I'm protecting you."

"I thought ..."

He cut her off brusquely. "McGregor to bridge, adjust course to..." Again, he relayed his instructions to the bridge and awaited their confirmation. He turned his attention back to Molly. He became a little more sober as he laid his palms on the table and pushed himself up to standing. "I'm not doing anything to protect Paul only you Molls. You've paid the price with Admiralty before and I'll not let him ruin your career. Nor will I allow him to get away with facilitating T'Hos' entry to Starbase 49. That ended with two of my people dead. Trust me; I ain't flippant about people's lives Molly. You know that. Paul will get his. But I'll be the one to mete out my own brand of justice. No one else."

* * *​

The lair of T'Hos Likk

The Nausicaan screwed up his nose and gave the man across from him a disapproving sneer. "T'Hos why have you called us here?"

Leaning back in his expansive chair T'Hos plucked at the luxurious fabrics. He considered the fine setting of his little abode. Some would consider it vulgar and tasteless. However, to him, it suited his station as a king among petty thieves and squabbling pirates. He was a criminal mastermind. The leading figure in a crime syndicate primed to replace the audacious Orion Syndicate. Yes, that was his grand vision. The vision he wanted to create and share with his family. All seemed within his grasp until the fateful day he crossed the path of a certain Starfleet officer. The pit of his dark soul growled and twisted with venom for that accursed man.

Slopping down his mug of wine, T'Hos reached over and with a broken and dirty nail skewered a cockroach scuttling across the table between the lavish gold plated tableware adorned with rich foods. He plucked the squirming cockroach up between index and fore finger bringing it to his eye level and turning his narrowed eyes to consider its plight.

"Well? What's the matter T'Hos? Do even you, find your banquet too rich to stomach? Har!" The Nausicaan scooped up a handful of food and scoffed it heartily. Food and wine dribbled down his chin as open mouthed he laughed gregariously.

T'Hos opted to ignore his manners and insult. Instead, he squeezed the cockroach between his fingers as with a degree of finality and with a mouthful of hate he pronounced, "In one word? McGregor."

He looked up to catch the expressions of those seated on the plush fittings of his ‘throne room' floor. The Bers Brothers were long time business associates and rivals. By dent of their greed, they had come to ally themselves with T'Hos in his vision to create a new criminal power to rival the Orions. Bers W'Asdi was the elder Nausicaan brother but where he had the brawn and might of the family, he did not have the brains or ambition. Instead, he allowed his decisions to be schooled by his younger and more cunning siblings. As such, Bers W'Asdi's immediate reaction was to scoff at T'Hos.

"Pah!" The Nausicaan wiped his gaping mouth and chin with his sleeve. "Your vendetta with the Border Dog is none of our concern." He smiled greedily and to T'Hos' mind, far too dangerously at that. "If he hurts your business, why it is only to our advantage."

However, T'Hos did not focus his attention on W'Asdi. Instead, he focused on gauging the responses of the other brothers here. Bers Deros was the more vocal and seemingly the one who made the decisions. His response was cool too. "I agree with my brother. McGregor is a thorn in our sides but so too is any number of Federation captains. You forget T'Hos we are not a committee or a talking house. We are persons with business interests, sometimes mutual, sometimes..." this new speaker extended a hand and weighed it like a scale of sorts, "not."

Undeterred, T'Hos posited, "And in getting rid of McGregor our interests our mutual." He kept his eyes on the silent Bers Huoth who merely slinked back on the velvets as he watched the proceedings with keen eyes even as he ran a hand along the length of the scantily dressed Orion girl draped over him.

Deros pressed his argument. "You have a personal vendetta against McGregor because he killed your kin. Taking on a starship captain deliberately is not something that interests me. As it is, your attack on the Kestrel at Starbase 49 has only brought greater attention to our operations. The Border Patrol have increased their stop and search operations. If anything you owe us compensation for the losses we have endured."

"Now, now Deros. Let's try to rise above petty concerns. Compensation? ... Imagine if we can rid ourselves of McGregor just how much more profitable business will be."

"We can't deny that." But Deros, looking over at his partner and brother carefully, as he gorged himself on more of the finery laid on for them, was not to be easily convinced. A subtle nod from Huoth made Deros continue in this vein. "However, the same could be said of any Border Patrol captain or ship. Do you suggest we take them all on? Wage a war with the Federation? Huh. We are ‘entrepreneurs' not warlords. We aren't the Klingon Empire or the Cardassian Union. They took on the Federation and yet failed. Yet you ask us to go up against them!"

"I don't ask that. Merely that we tackle a single thorn in all our sides. Since McGregor's lucky escape, he has escalated his operations and single-handedly bringing our operations down around our ears. My network on Aubrellis has taken me years to build up and he has destroyed it in a day."

"Yes, your operations. And because of you bringing it upon yourself. You won't win our pity or our sympathy because of your recklessness. Nor will you win our vote for a harebrained scheme to take on McGregor."

T'Hos smiled and countered, "And what if I tell you that already McGregor is falling for my bait, has already fallen into my trap?"
Deros leaned in greedily. "How so?"

"At this very moment he thinks he has a great scheme in operation. Little does he realise I have my own operations in play. A little misinformation can go a long way."

"Misinformation? Is that all?"

"It will be enough to distract McGregor until we can ensnare him in our trap and be rid of him once and for all."

Deros snorted. "It hardly sounds fool proof."

"You forget I still have someone working on the inside. And just when McGregor least needs it, they will play their hand and render the dog useless. I will have McGregor on his knees before me, begging to save his crew and his pathetic life. And then, I will take great pleasure in taking both."

* * *​

 

[kes7]

You're on a roll, MF!

Loved this chapter for the frank conversation between McGregor and his XO. All of it was good, but the part where it came down to her ex-husband was really well done. Also, when you first mentioned tantric stuff I was all "Oh no he didn't," but then you brought it back in for that barb from Molly -- HA! Well played.

As for T'Hos ... well, we'll see what happens there, won't we? I have a bad feeling about all of this and I think things are about to blow up big time. Kind of on the edge of my seat here ... don't leave me hanging!

 

[CeJay]

T'Hos is a bad guy worthy of James Bond villain status. But his associates are right. As far as they are concerned he really is just another Starfleet captain. Albeit a very, very odd one. But all this helps to show the real personal stake, perhaps even hatred, between these two men. McGregor v. T'Hos. Sooner or later this is going to head for one impressive showdown.

 

[mirandafave]

Well McGregor's humour is a thing that does go there - so it is only fair that Molly slaps him in the face with it at times and tries to keep him in check. Sadly, the matter of ehr ex-husband does complicate things slightly but Molly knows McGregor better than most and knows that he was never going to let Paul get away wiht it scot free.

T'Hos likewise is not someone who lets someone get away with matters either. McGregor has crossed him and he has definitely crossed McGregor. So yes, there is going to be a show down at some point between them. Which is bad news for the rest of the crew of the Kestrel.

T'Hos as a Bond villian - hmmm ... I rather imagine him eating the white cat but yeah I can see that!

T'Hos: So Mr McGregor ... it is time to say goodbye.
McGregor: You expect me to talk.
T'Hos: No Mr McGregor, I expect you to die!
McGregor: How's about if I sing you a song?

Showdown is in the pipeline, but some fun, mayhem and drama before we get to that stage though. More soon. Thanks for reading guys and reviewing. Much appreciated.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

I very much enjoyed the tet-a-tet between McGregor and Molly. The XO is understandably frustrated with her eccentric skipper. At least McGregor was somewhat more forthcoming this instant (though brusque as usual). Hopefully he's not getting overconfident in his pursuit of T'Hos.

And speaking of the devil , T'Hos has a mole on the Kestrel! That doesn't bode well for McGregor and company. Here's hoping that the good Captain stays one step ahead of his enemy. I'm betting on McGregor to outfox T'Hos, but probably with some unexpected twists along the way.

Another great chapter - well done!

 

[mirandafave]

Yup, I'd be frustrated too having to work with McGregor. Worse still for Molly she has to clean up his messes all too often. I think McGregor's overconfidence is what is really frustrating Molly here. After all, she knows that T'Hos is not someone to be tangled with lightly. She recognises the same with McGregor too but that's where she is essential to helping him draw the line.

And yes, T'Hos has a mole inside. Though McGregor has that susses way back in the 'Sleeping with the Enemy' instalment. Of course, he gave the impression back then that he also knew who the mole was. Leaving Dexter to work it out for himself! lol! Mind you, whether he knows really and whether he is right, even if has guessed, all remains to be seen...

More soon, probably tomorrow night.

 

[mirandafave]

Past Lives and Bad Memories​

Flight Operation Centre, Deck 4

Leoni Jex stared down at the PADD for what must have been the umpteenth time in fifteen minutes. She could study the details no further or be more prepared for the Captain's plan of action. However, she knew she could always feel more prepared than she did.

"Damn it." She cursed aloud at herself. She tossed the PADD onto the situation table in front of her. Slumping into her seat, she just sat brooding. Her leg jittered almost as if she were nervous. It was not nerves however. It was instead a trait Deodzi often displayed when she would grow impatient and frustrated. Clamping a hand on her thigh, Leoni was brought up at suddenly realising she had picked up this trait.

With several lifetimes of habits and traits dumped into her body upon the joining with the Jex symbiont, Leoni had a hard time trying to adjust. Many of the adjustments that were hardest to comprehend were the little changes such as the tiny habits she would now inherit and display. She spent her first week joined eating her locks of hair that fell across her face, a habit she picked up from Niesa who would do so when she fretted about her children's health and safety. From Deodzi she had also picked up a rather coarse tongue and found herself using expletives as adjectives and adverbs and even nouns when she was speaking. This stemmed from Deodzi's years working with front line troops and patrols during the Cardassian War. Of course, such adjustments were to be expected and her own family understood and excused some of her out of character behaviour at that time. Still, it make it difficult to look her Grandmother in the face after declaring the scarf and mittens she had made for Leoni were the effing best ever, that Nan herself was an effing rockstar and the scarf would keep the nipples of an Orion dancer warm!

She let a small smile play across her face remembering that scene and the horrified looks of her family as they looked on. Leoni herself took a moment even to register what was so out of line. When she had, she was mortified and apologetic. However, even the prime and proper domestic goddess that was Neisa had chuckled at it. Leoni shook her head in wonderment at it all. In small moments such as now, she would find herself marvelling at what she had become. She was different now. Not only different in terms of habits she had picked up but different in how she thought and perceived things. She was different in how her scope of seeing the world around her was seen through entirely new eyes. The different eyes of different people. Her world was not blinkered by seeing it as Leoni herself. She saw beyond such a narrow field of vision and could discern what Neisa would have felt and what Deodzi might have done.

It was still such an odd sensation. From finding herself whistling tunes, she had never heard before, to developing an insatiable appetite for blueberry muffins. Neisa would sing often to her children, they found her voice soothing and comforting to fall over asleep listening to. Deodzi called blueberry muffins the only civilised contribution humans ever made to the universe!

It was a momentary sense of mirth that quickly passed. Leoni now leaned forwards on the tactical display table as it played out the scenario as she envisioned it. And how McGregor was calling it. She rubbed her temples as tried to focus her mind on the challenge at hand. Leoni had scored average to well in her shuttle training. She had never wanted to helm any kind of starship before. Merely she had grown up helping her grandfather as he tinkered with engines of skiffs and the odd shuttle that came his way. Progressing arthritis had paid heed to his exertions so as she grew up Jex had become more involved in the repairs of the one-man repair shop. No wonder then, that she grew to love engines. It was the magic of discovering what lay underneath the surface, holding together old and broken down engines and making them powerful and thrum with life once again.

She shook her head, shaking off the memories of her grandfather and his passing away. He would have loved that his little Leoni was now a Starfleet engineer, a dream he had once aspired to before family life changed his dreams in another direction. She smiled thinking that he would also have loved the fact that her assignment was to a battered, old and weathered Miranda class vessel instead of some fancy top of the line ship.

Though of course, she now remembered a time when the Miranda was a top of the line vessel, or as near to when he had joined Starfleet. Jeodzi had bounded aboard their first posting ready and eager to take the helm. "Grrr ..." She suddenly vented in frustration. She wanted to access those skill sets now. The skill sets in which McGregor had placed his faith believing that her previous incarnation as a pilot would carry through to her life now. In part it did, her skill and proficiency with navigational controls vastly improved upon her being joined. Like so many aspects of her life, she found she had new memories and knowledge of skills Leoni never had before.

However, she had never expected to be call upon such knowledge primarily in order to complete a mission. However, that was what McGregor was demanding of her. Not demanding, asking of her. It was a crazy assed move on his part. It was crazier still for her to consider even going through with it. Yet here she was after spending all night in the Sims practicing the plan of action and finding the touch coming back to her naturally. She now found herself daring to undertake the mission. But she now found that her memories were fading as the time approached and her nerves grew.

"Bing bong! All senior officers please report to my office!"

"You let your anger dictate you."

Startled, Leoni looked up to see the imposing figure of Rah Eyrrs Norr stood over her. The Kzinti's amber eyes drilling into hers with an intensity she found unnerving. She had heard the rumours that some Kzinti males had the ability to read minds. No one had confirmed or denied that their Chief of the Boat could do so. But the look he gave now, gave Leoni pause to wonder that it might well be the case as his penetrating look seemed to pierce her mind. After all, she had seen firsthand that many of the tales that circulated around the Kzinti were in point of fact true.

"I thought all the senior officers were called to a meeting."

"They are." A moment passed. "I am not an officer."

Jex shrugged. "As good as."

Again, the towering Kzinti took a long moment before replying. "Better."

"Huh! I bet you wouldn't say that to the captain's face."

"I do. Often. He agrees."

Jex stepped back as if measuring Rah Eyrrs up, in doing so finding a formidable opponent with no visible weakness or point of attack. "Not much for sentences are you?"

Rah simply bared his teeth in a macabre smile. "No."

"I suppose the captain does not keep your kind for company."

He did not move a whisker in response to her tone. "No."

Smartly and boldly she retorted, "Or conversation."

Rah's ears furled forwards as he countered with a frightening grin baring fangs. "My kind talks through actions."

Jex felt her heartbeat race uncontrollably with such a visceral reminder of her past stood right in front of her. With wide eyes and her breath escaping her she just managed to whisper, "And pleasant conversation it makes."

His head rearing back as his nostrils flared inhaling the scent in the air. His whiskers twitched. "You allow fear to dictate you."

"Fear," she shrugged, "or common sense, either way, I think it wise."

He actually nodded his head approvingly. "You do not fear me the way others do."

Jex could hardly hear him over the rapid rate of her heart or the screams echoing in her head. "Because I don't need to base my fears on myths or historical records like the others. I don't base my fears on what you are capable of. I've seen what your kind has done."

"Kzin are formidable opponents."

"Bloodthirsty, animalistic, brutal, savage, are words more apt to describe what you do." She looked at his claws as he worked his hands. The sharp tapering claws could cleave through flesh like a hot knife through butter. Ripping and shredding and dissecting their opponents even as they fell. Formidable was not the word to describe their savagery.

Rah bowed his head fractionally as if agreeing with her thoughts; this caused Jex to gulp fearing that he could read her mind. The Kzinti were a truly frightening spectre. To have one loom over you was to be under their power and spell. It was no wonder that many people thought they could read minds and control the minds of others. Such was their sheer dominating presence that one would do what they bid. Anything at all to end the fear, the chill through the body as a walking stalking death stood before you.

"Then you are aware of what I can do." She nodded. He waited a moment before continuing. "Understand then why McGregor makes use of me."

Again, Jex nodded imagining that Rah was but a tool for McGregor, a weapon to be wielded. More than that, he was an animal to be unleashed and let loose on McGregor's enemies. Though her voice wanted to fail her, she said in a trembling fearful voice, "I know what to expect to see on the mission." He nodded but his amber eyes bore into hers. "And I can cope with it, if that is what you are concerned with." He gave no commitment to what he was concerned with. Instead, he stood there immovable and looming. "Know this, I will work with your kind, with you, I don't need to like it, but I will do my job and I will not be frightened by your presence."

Rah smiled, it almost seemed genuine, before turning away and leaving the room. Her breath came back to her. Jex felt her heart rate slow somewhat even though adrenaline still raced through her body. Her gut churned still as memories, horrible memories flooded her head. But she did not allow herself to dwell on them. She would not allow herself to relive those horrors of centuries past. She slumped back down into her chair placing her shaking hands flat on the table in some vain hope to still them. Closing her eyes she allowed the fear to ebb away, it meant she had to allow herself to feel the fear, to embrace it somewhat and even be tainted by the memories it dredged up.

... the smells ... the sounds ... the chill of the night air ... the dampness of the mist that shrouded around her ... the mossy peaty smell of the soil she lay face down on ... the bitter taste on her tongue of blood ... the scent of fear and piss and blood in the air ... the sounds of howling and wailing ... the terrible cries that echoed in the night sky ... oh the blood curdling cries ... the calls of Kzinti to other Kzinti as they hunted in the forests ... the snapping of twigs as the Kzinti neared, crashing through the forest hunting them down ... eviscerating them ... shredding and dissecting ... devouring on the flesh ... savouring the blood ... sating their tastes ...

Tears spilled from her as these memories threatened to overwhelm her. With the palms of her hands, she wiped them away. She sucked in a greedy breath and controlled her breathing. The memories clawed at her mind but she resisted their pull. She was Jex but she was also Leoni Jex. She had survived that. She had lived, lost, learned in the time since then. She had mothered children, steered careers and forged new lives since that time. It would not defeat her fortitude. She was Jex, she was Leoni, she was Jex Leoni.

A long moment passed before she shook her head and then pressed the reset on the simulation. "Let's run this through one more time." She pressed the button to set it in motion, her mind focusing on the choices and calibrations she would have to make. "I can do this."

* * *​

Rah stalked off towards the main hanger bay itself ducking through the seal hatch doors such was his height. From the upper gangway, he looked down on the quiet hanger deck. The two Stallion craft to be used in the assault by the boarding party were presently sitting isolated and quiet. Though in truth, the Stallions were always ready for an immediate launch in case of an emergency. A flight and rescue crew was always ‘standing‘ready in the adjoining room. A new shift was due to begin in less than fifteen minutes. The normal procedure for said crew would be to run tests and checks on the Stallions and the stowed equipment as a matter of fact regardless that the previous shift would already have ensured everything was as it should be. Then the crew would drill an emergency launch and record their response time. If it did not meet their target, they reset the drill parameters and began again. Then the crew would either retire to the flight operations room to run through procedures or to assess past missions. These mission recording would be from their own, another teams on the ship or from another Border Patrol vessel. McGregor was keen that the crews would learn from the practices and experiences of other crews. It was a strangely logical practice instilled by McGregor. The ships traded logs and video feeds with one another as different crews had different experiences and specialist training.

This practice was of course in addition to any official debriefings after an actual launch or mission. Depending on the nature of said mission, senior officers would sit in with the post analysis debriefings and contribute to the success or failures of the missions. The Captain himself was always in attendance at such debriefings always looking for a way to refine and improve tactics and approaches and gain insight into novel ideas that might have work instead. It often led to very open and frank debate as various persons argued one option or approach over another. Something McGregor encouraged so that everyone would be better informed for the next time. Even past mistakes were valuable learning exercises.

For now, Rah took in the silence of the moment before McGregor's orders would start filtering through the system. Even as he held his briefing with the senior staff, Rah knew that time-coded orders would start launching in the next five minutes to pertinent departments ahead of the operation, which would be, by McGregor's reckoning, in a number of hours.

Behind him, the access through to the flight operation centre was to be seen through the open hatchway. In the immediate room behind him was the hanger deck's control room to one side with the larger space belonging to the stowage and repair area for the Kestrel's compliment of Wasp and Killer Bee fighters.

The tall muscular well honed figure of Senior Petty Officer Mila Chomsky strode towards him. Her heavy footsteps pounding on the metal grating of the catwalk as she approached. It was of course part of the soldier in her. Breach and Assault missions such as the one ahead of them were par the course for Chomsky and she could stalk with a light foot when she needed. However, in approaching the Chief of the Boat, Mila tended to announce her presence ahead of reaching him. She knew his capabilities when surprised or attacked and preferred not to risk any instinctive reaction.

Clasping her hands behind her back to stand at parade ease at Rah's side, the Ukrainian stopped to inform Rah. "I've Alpha Team getting organised as ve speak Boss. I figured the little ‘bing bong' announcement meant the captain had something cooking."

Rah turned to give her an appraising look and there was a hint of amused pride at her prompt deduction. He nodded his head in a satisfactory acknowledgement. He pulled out a PADD and extended it to the SPO. "Here is the recipe." Her own head bobbed as she reached for it and looked down to examine its contents. Her short dirty choirboy bob cut fell over her face as she did so.

It was her turn now to nod in a satisfactory manner as she took in the details of the mission. Scrolling down the PADD she took in the details of the captain's plan and various contingencies. "The Skipper has been busy. It could be fun. She is the pilot?" She nodded her head back through the open hatchway to where Jex could just be seen scrutinising the plan of attack in the operations centre.

Rah did not look back. Instead in his gruff voiced affirmed it. "Yes."

"She looks," Mila shrugged, "a little frazzled." Rah looked up to give Mila a dark look. "If you don't mind me saying. You have not been scaring the ensigns again on the Skipper's orders?"

"No."

"That is good."

"Just a ... past life."

"Hers, or yours?"

Again, Rah's amber eyes narrowed and gave a glimpse of the predator he was. A low growl reverberated from deep within.

Mila held her hands up in mock surrender. "Forget I said anything then."

"Hers."

Mila stuck out her bottom lip as she mulled on the complex lives of a joined Trill. "I cannot say having a parasite living in my gut would make me anything but queasy. Why now though?" She barrelled a look back at Rah knowing that something more significant must have happened.

"Memories. Bad memories."

"Oh?"

"From the Kzin Wars."

"Oh!" Mila looked through at the waif of a girl and wondered how it was that such a delicate slender figure could have survived the atrocities of that era. Then she shook her head to remind herself that it was the host inside and not the girl on the outside that had survived. It was hard to separate though in Mila's head. "It was a long time ago though. A past life. Before you Boss. Try to remember, those are not your sins to bear."

He darkly growled, "I know that." He bore his teeth showing the long sabre fangs. "My sins are my own."

"And you have tried to make amends for them. Do not take on the bad memories of another era for you to settle."

"I have enough to make amends for?"

She shrugged. "Only you and God above can tell that for sure. Regardless, I will as always pray for you, your soul and your safety of course too."

"You may pray." He looked down at his paws as his claws slowly extracted and then retracted. "And I will do what I do best. I will slay."

* * *​

 

[kes7]

Wow, some awesome character moments here, MF. I really liked this chapter. Really interesting to get inside the head of a joined Trill and all its history for a while, and the interaction between Jex and Rah was just ... well, creepy. Rah is creepy. You did an awesome job conveying that, I got chills just imagining him. But he seems to have an interesting friendship with Chomsky, who is herself interesting -- non-com, religious, unafraid of the walking death dude ... great stuff!

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Hey, I had a blueberry muffin for breakfast this a.m.!

Loved how you portrayed the big cat in this segment. Good night, he's intimidating! A feline of few words. Great portrayal (and fleshes out some of my own ideas for one of my works in progress - thanks for that ).

You have a wonderful way with words. Yours is a unique style but very engaging. Even in serious situations, there's a bit of underlying fun, sort of Douglas Adams-esque but with your own personal mark. I like the little details you add as well. Small things, but they add life to the story.

A very fun read!

 

[mirandafave]

Wow, some awesome character moments here, MF. I really liked this chapter. Really interesting to get inside the head of a joined Trill and all its history for a while, and the interaction between Jex and Rah was just ... well, creepy. Rah is creepy. You did an awesome job conveying that, I got chills just imagining him. But he seems to have an interesting friendship with Chomsky, who is herself interesting -- non-com, religious, unafraid of the walking death dude ... great stuff!

Yay! Glad you think Rah is creepy. Kinda. But remember, as McGregor would say he is creepy but cuddly!

Yeah I figured writing a joined Trill meant exploring some of that mixed up slug brain thing of thoughts and memories. Gah! Weird and confusing. Glad it seems to have worked. Thanks for reading kes.

 

[mirandafave]

Hey, I had a blueberry muffin for breakfast this a.m.!

Loved how you portrayed the big cat in this segment. Good night, he's intimidating! A feline of few words. Great portrayal (and fleshes out some of my own ideas for one of my works in progress - thanks for that ).

You have a wonderful way with words. Yours is a unique style but very engaging. Even in serious situations, there's a bit of underlying fun, sort of Douglas Adams-esque but with your own personal mark. I like the little details you add as well. Small things, but they add life to the story.

A very fun read!

Hope you enjoyed your breakfast TLR. Hope also that any inspiration works and we get that story you refer to.

Glad that Rah and the various details add to the tale I am telling. In truth, I've not read any Douglas Adams so I can't say in what way you mean it. That said thank for saying I have a unique style. I have style everyone - TLR says it, so it must be true. LOL

Thank you again for reading and commentating. More again soon. Maybe the weekend as I'm going to be hellish busy next week.

 

[CeJay]

Trill are a fascinating race, no doubt, and you are showing us in this chapter exactly why. With multiple lifetimes in one body, sooner or later there are bound to be a number of issues which will come to haunt the most recent host.

I like Jex, always have, and poor girl will have to deal with some serious bad memory issues every time she's around that big scary cat. Seriously ... scary cat.

Great stuff.

 

[mirandafave]

Cogs in the Machine​

Main Hangar, Deck 5

"Chief! I have piloted before." Ensign Leoni Jex implored to Eddie Gardner. "I was a pretty ok pilot even before I was joined. Working in my granddad's workshop, I would use every excuse I could to fly, correction to test fly, the shuttles, zoomers and pods that he had to repair. At the Academy, I got good scores and after my Joining, those scores jumped higher still. Deodzi was an ace pilot."

Eddie scratched his beard angrily. "Still, you're one of my officers and McGregor has no call co-opting you as a pilot just for his own kicks and curiosity. And even if you have good scores you won't have flown the Star Stallions before." He gave the two intimidating black hulled vessels an ominous and yet respectful look. "They're brutes! They've a helluva kick and can be damned wild, loose and aggressively mean. Just why do you think they're called Stallions?"

Jex laughed a little nervously, "I thought it was because the name was pretty." Her own fears were starting to quell as Deodzi's memories had come back to the fore and sitting behind the controls beside the Andorian Keren as they went through one more pre-flight checklist she had begun to feel comfortable and even familiar with helm controls as she once had with Deodzi. Gardner's own worries and bristling mood was also somehow strangely comforting too. Her joke though failed to impress the chief engineer. "I'll be fine Chief. Now sign off on the all clear."

Grumbling he pressed his thumb as an identifier on the PADD and they used a stylus to sign his name. His signature attached he puffed out his cheeks in an exclamation. "Bloody paperwork."

"I'll be fine too Chief."

"You'd better Poulter," Eddie declared grabbing the PADD off him and repeating the thumb verification and signature. "You still owe me fifty credits from the last poker game! And you'd better not scrape it this time. Don't let this noob show you up Chris."

Chris Poulter turned with Jex and laughed off Gardner's jibes. "Honest, I never scratched it, it was only a tiny bump and the Orion raider was trying to get away when it happened."

Strolling away with him laughing, Jex said, "Yeah right. And the fifty credits?"

"Ah well, that's a different story. Good flying Ensign." He waved as he headed towards Stallion Two and his team.

Jex waved him off as she went back to her Stallion and team and wished him the same. She did not notice Gardner giving her a concerned look as she went. "Humph! I'm going back to my engines." He started walking towards the exit and passed Rah and T'Vel and spoke their names by way of address.

"Trying to scrape enough credits together for tomorrow night's poker game Gardner?" Caleb Dexter replied suited up in his armour suit. The deep black mesh sheathed armour was thick but made up of loose plates to allow a greater degree of flexibility despite the sacrifice to over all protection. He approached from behind Stallion Two, his carbine in his hand at his side. "Too bad. I must have cleaned you out bad last week."

Eddie waved him off. "To hell with you Tac. And tell Gunny not to even start. We'll see tomorrow night. And warn Nujinx he had better not blow up the engines of that scow you're boarding. I'll be the one to cop it in the neck if he does."

* * *​

S.P.O. Mila Chomsky slapped the power pack into her backup carbine before thumbing through the controls and settings. Satisfied, she secured it and stashed it atop her backpack sitting on the bench along the bulkhead of the Hangar Deck. Standing up, she patted her phaser sidearm as was a customary habit and of course a standard part of the uniform aboard a border cutter. She hooked her thumbs into the space between the under arm of her armour vest and hoisted it into a more comfortable position.

With a purposeful stride, she approached Stallion One. Her hand ran the length of its hull as she connected with the dark menacing machine. The Stallions were a brute machine. They were much more muscular than the standard Starfleet shuttle or even the newer runabouts; whilst they were still smaller than the Danube class the spartan interior meant they could carry up to thirty personnel. The Star Stallions were meaty vessels that carried twin micro-torpedo launchers housed in the roll bar and with the powerhouse engines also allowed them to be equipped with tractor beams. Their engines were more powerful but the trade off was that they were limited to Warp 4 and more suited to shorter journeys, designed for quick sprints that better suited their purpose and mission as rescue craft and assault vehicles. Their hulls were thick and more heavily armoured, relying not on shields alone as their destinations all too often involved harsh conditions that had already crippled other vehicle shields. That said, the powerhouse engines were there to allow the Stallions to produce a strong shield with a higher endurance than most shuttles.

She hunkered down to the prostrate form of an engineer at the Stallion's prow. "Is she ship shape and ready?"

Her Ukrainian accent a telltale to Becca Swift engrossed in her diagnostics. "That she is S.P.O., ready and raring."

"And her pilot?" Becca looked up in the direction that Chomsky nodded to herself where Ensign Jex stood presenting the status report to Eddie Gardner awaiting his clearance and approval of the vessel.

"I think she might be a bit nervous but she's been preparing and night and morning."

"Yes, McGregor seems to have given our little Trill friend a heads up. He must be making a project out of her."

"I guess so." Becca said in a noncommittal tone. She knew herself that the captain had made a project out of Becca herself after rescuing her from Orion pirates. "Must be lucky to have lifetimes of experience to call upon."

"Lucky? I'm not so sure about." Mila looked about for Rah when she said this. "Though it certainly would be useful. Good work Becca. Sorry you are not coming vit us on this one petty officer."

Becca sat up and set some of her tools into her cloth tool kit. "Oh capturing a target bridge after a breach and assault. The usual SARAH affair! It sounds boring." She joked.

"I'm sure it is going to be a walk in the park Becca."

"I'm sure it will." Becca's eye then caught sight of the approaching Sebastian Templar and her jovial nature slipped away to be replaced with a cold hostility. "Besides, I wouldn't be sure of the company."

"Oh Submino is a bit of a loudmouth but hardly bad company." Chomsky's joking retort faded, as she understood the tone in Becca's voice and the look of her disapproving frown. "Now isn't the time for a scene petty officer." She gave Becca a dismissive nod.

Getting to her foot, Becca returned it with a crisp and slightly bitter nod of her own. "Understood S.P.O. Chomsky." With that, she ducked away from Sebastian's presence.

"Ensign Templar, have you familiarised yourself with our equipment?" Chomsky looked down at the carbine strapped around his armour suit as an indication of the equipment she most referred to. She understood the rather protracted career path of the ensign and how he had specialised in security and tactical but was nevertheless more Fleet trained. The carbines used by the Border Service were much shorter than a Starfleet phaser rifle, packing a blunt wallop all the same but the more compact design making it ideally suited to the tight quarters the cutter crews found themselves in. The carbines had a hefty kick to them, especially when set to the ‘grenade' level whereupon it could discharge an explosive blast at a bulkhead.

He gave a rather unaffected air. "It was a matter of course, Chomsky."

"That's Senior Petty Officer Chomsky." She pointedly said. "Ensign. And whilst it might be a matter of course, I would be remiss in my duties to allow you on this mission without requisite experience with the carbine and the other arsenal and equipment we utilise. So be it a matter of course or not, I'd sooner know that you did in fact treat it as such."

He gave a long moment before replying. It no doubt rankled with the ensign to have a non-commissioned officer essentially pulling him up short. However, he had to appreciate she had not done in front of others and whilst technically outranked by the ensign, her expertise status and operational superiority in the mission ahead gave her the leeway to speak so. He mulled his response over.

"I did. The carbine is a brute but a beauty to behold."

"Good to know." She then mellowed her tone to mollify the ensign slightly. And it is. It's a hell of a report when you first use it. But you be glad for the kick when in a bind. The puffs and cuffs are going to arrive in short order. Why don't you get the crewmen together? They'll be directly under your control when we board. Just an FYI, Timmian is a lazy beggar but a crack shot, still make sure he has stowed his gear properly. Don't listen to any nonsense about entering his Denobulan hibernation cycle! There'll be no such problems with Keren but he should be in the cockpit going through the checklist with Ensign Jex."

Templar took a moment to take in her ‘orders'. After a small hesitation, he nodded his head accepting her orders as good advice and taking no umbrage at the S.P.O. dishing out the orders to him. Taking heed of her advice, he ducked past Chomsky to check on the lazy Denobulan.

Mila turned then to go back to her own equipment pile to where she found some of the rest of the team doing their final checks. "Ok Submino, you got the charges?"

The Bolian petty officer (third class) looked up at the bawler. "Any louder Chomsky and you'll set the charges off prematurely!"

A drawl to the side of them interjected, "From what I hear, it is Jock here we have to worry about going off prematurely!"

Submino looked over at the drawling Texan and then looked to an embarrassed Sven. "Har! The question I have for you Buchanan is how do you know?"

Buchanan shrugged casually. "Well sir ‘e, that's what the dissatisfied ladies who come my way tell me."

"If they go from Jock to you Buchanan, they ain't just dissatisfied; they're deaf, dumb and blind and severely disillusioned." This come back managed to put a smile back on the blushing Jock.

"Jude, Submino! Knock off the coarse talk in front of the Pips." Mila called with Jex (the ‘Pips') now beside her. "Get squared away onboard. Excuse them ensign, they may be pig ignorant but they know how to knock heads together."

Jex smiled in return to the S.P.O. and watched the men file past her into the Stallion to stow their gear. "Oh, I've heard much worse, hell from my own lips, Deodzi was a profuse curser."

"Sounds like she was fun."

"She was. Oh boys she was." A mischievous memory stole a smile across Jex's face as she thought about Deodzi.

Chomsky smiled at the ensign and figured there might be something to her yet. "Checks clear?"

"Yes. We are ready."

"Good, then S.P.O. Chomsky we can have our final run through then." The two women turned to face the imposing figure of T'Vel. The Vulcan somehow looking more dignified and aloof than one could imagine an armour suit would lend. It certainly added to the intimidating stature of the women.

"Of course, Lt. Commander, I'll gather the team." Chomsky moved off to check the team had stowed their gear and to gather them for the final debriefing. Jex went with her to grab her own PADD.

"T'Vel. I mean Lt. Commander; it's good to see you. I hadn't the opportunity to give you your book back. I didn't bring it as I rather assumed a SARAH wouldn't be the best place to give back a loaned book."

"Not quite an astute observation but nevertheless an accurate one, petty officer Cain."

"Perhaps I can return it to your quarters later."

"That would be ... most satisfactory ... Dashiel."

The petty officer (first class) started to walk towards the congregating team but stopped to turn back to the Vulcan. "I was thinking that perhaps you'd be interested in tackling another Earth classic, War and Peace."

T'Vel raised an intrigued eyebrow. "I have heard of it. It should provide an illuminating window into the human psyche. In trade, I would offer the treatise by T'Pol recounting her experiences with the crew of the NX Enterprise. It is more of a Vulcan sociology essay than a voyeuristic account but it still makes for interesting reading."

"I look forward to it. I'm sure that it will similarly be an illuminating window into the Vulcan psyche and the Vulcan view of the human mindset."

"Indeed." T'Vel curtly nodded her head as Dashiel approached the mission team taking up a place beside Mila Chomsky. With her acute hearing, T'Vel managed to pick up the crossly whispered question from Chomsky to Dashiel.

"Still sharing books with her Dashiel?"

He looked guiltily for but a brief second. Then somewhat contritely but with an air of innocence he stated, "It's only books Mila."

She gave no vocal response but gave a cool response a Vulcan would have been proud of as she turned towards Rah and the assembled team. "Everyone fall in." Rah inclined his head fractionally indicating for Mila to proceed and from her leg pocket she pulled out a silicone gel like roll out map. It flapped out onto the deck of the shuttle bay as the members of Team One arrayed themselves around. The roll out map an MSD interactive display illustrated the interior schematic of the target ship Thaddeus travelled onboard. The interactive display was a ready to hand tactical and sensor readout that when tied in with the Kestrel's sensors and those of the Star Stallion gave a real time heads up for the assault team. For now, conjecture and plans of action scrolled across its flexible and durable surface.
"One last time, here's the plan. Phase one ..."

* * *​

 

[mirandafave]

[contd]

Senior Officers' Lounge


McGregor took a last swallow of his whiskey tumbler before setting it back into the sink. "Ah. Computer, secure lounge."

With a roll of metal, an automatic shutter descended upon the library shelves encasing the books in a metal mesh cage of protection. Similar shutters came down over the optics and small glass cabinets. The lights dimmed and a low emergency lighting illuminated the room in a soft light that gave the luxurious surrounds a calming atmosphere of rest and quiet belying the action in the offing. Amid this low light, a bubble of sparkling blue hummed into life as a protective shield formed around the bust of the kestrel sitting atop the bar.

The computer reported, "Room secured."

Molly gave the shielded bust and McGregor a pursed frown. "I still think the forcefield for that is a little overkill McGregor."

"Molly! Heaven forefends." He nearly stroked the bust. "There, there, Kes, Mommy Molly doesn't mean it. Anyway, Molls, it is its own power source and you really don't want my Kes to ever break. That would make me rather mad." He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Let's get to it."

The two departed the lounge as yeomen Harris and Ronak approached the lounge to secure the larger furnishings ahead of the action. McGregor and Molly both darting dark looks at the Vulcan who suppressed a curling sneer himself. Harris as usual walked by with a strut to shame an Orion slave. McGregor giving a salacious wink to Harris as the yeoman passed by.

Cartwright walked onto the bridge throwing what seemed to be an odd look at the Captain. At the tactical station looking ever alert, and while even engrossed on the tactical read outs of her station was ready to pounce on any visitor to the bridge lest they be a threat, was the ship's second senior security officer. The lean, chiselled ebony lieutenant [junior grade] who had dominated the bridge until the entrance of her captain and XO relaxed somewhat at their arrival. Her crisp clear French accent cut across the bridge as she relinquished the conn. to McGregor.

"Gladly Contessa. And I'll take whatever else you are offering." He approached the tactical station and leaned forwards to kiss the back of the hand of the tall ebony smooth skinned woman at it. "Magnificent as always, Contessa."

McGregor's charm did not terribly impress the lieutenant but she offered him a slight demure smile by way of thanks. Her posture was rigid but poised and elegantly graceful in the flowing moves she took. Molly knew just how gracefully and covertly the woman could move upon her enemies. And for all of her grace, there was no doubting that Contessa was a woman not to be crossed.

He turned to the science station and called out. "Denora! Has Stanley the ole fox asked you on a date yet?" In contrast to the human at tactical, was the officer staffing the science station in the absence of T'Vel. Lieutenant Denora was an Avian and her physical stature towered over that of everyone else on the bridge but her much more passive demeanour lessened that presence. Her dove grey feathers and golden beak a soothing appearance to the otherwise fierce size, dangerous talons and potentially deadly serrated beak. However, Denora herself was but an inquisitive and genteel scientist who at times seemed too gentle and kind for the rougher and readier kind of work a border patrol vessel pulled.

Her shrill squawking reply was mortified. "Captain! No!"

Turning to Stanley, he wagged an admonishing finger. "Tut, tut Stan! I thought you were a true gent. Trust me Denora. He has the hots for you. I'll fix you up on a blind dinner date with one another after this."

In confusion, Stanley blinked at the captain and then the Avian. "I do not see why we should be blind in order to eat."

It was hard to tell with her feathered face, but Molly swore the ruffle and way in which Denora pulled in her wings and talon claws indicated she was flushing at how forward McGregor was being. She but positively beamed though when Stanley continued, "Though dinner with Lieutenant Denora itself would be a most welcome activity."

"Ah, there you go then! All sorted. Now, to business Denora. Tell me what do your sensors show ..."

Molly turned her attention away and to Noah Cutler as she approached the Ops station. She bid him a curt hello through a simple address of his rank, "Ensign."

"Commander." She pursed her lips at the hint of nervousness in his voice. No doubt, a similar sense of nervousness and anticipation filled many of the crew ahead of the captain's plans. The kid had a huge self-esteem complex. Molly wanted to shake him and have him understand just how capable he was of his job. The ensign was a bridge officer. He operated a vitally important and complex station. He not only assumed bridge duties here, but also directed other Ops personnel throughout the ship. His Academy record proved his ability for the job now was the time for him to prove it to himself and to stand up and do the job.

"No need to be nervous Cutler. You have trained for this and are skilled in the task before you." ‘Unlike your friend,' she frowned to herself. Whether Noah himself imagined that she was in part alluding to Leoni about to pilot a Star Stallion in the upcoming operation she doubted. She hoped though he took some confidence from the fact she had confidence in him. "Ok, let's run through this."

She focused her attention on the display board, tapping controls and reaching back around to look at the damage control systems. "The first thing you have to be aware of in a tactical situation is that time is precious. Normally, you are coordinating with the team in operational control. But given the time pressure issue you are going to have much more direct control over the distribution of ship power and resources. That said, you have a team down below who can be delegated and made to prioritise according to your requests. Likewise, here on the bridge, you will have a damage control officer who takes up their position when the ship goes to alert.

"That said, you are still the circus manager. You have to keep a lot of balls in the air and bring certain things to the commanding officer's attention that merit it. But this is where your training kicks in and experience teaches you, you have to decide what merits the C.O.'s attention and what does not. The things that do not, you take the decision and sort them. Remember again your team in Ops control, that's what they are for."

"It is not exactly straight forward is it?"

"No Cutler it isn't. In Ops, we are the balancing act. Engineering has to come up with the power, fix what's broken, and deliver that power. But it is up to you to prioritise where the power has to go. That means balancing it between sudden power curves from the warp engines to meet the demands of the helm or security firing phasers. Sometimes it is a carefully orchestrated choreographic synchronised dance that no one ever knows or appreciates because the person is to ensure a safe and even flow of operations. But in a pinch you'll be the one expected to facilitate the miracles. But before you get a big head, we are but cogs in the machine, each one of us, each department is dependent upon the other. That said, I like to think Ops acts as the grease for the gears."

As Cartwright went through the duties of the Ops station at red alert in order to calm Noah, she sensed how appreciative he was of the Commander's assistance. Even if it made him look less than capable in the eyes of the captain, who seemed to be studiously ignoring his XO, the ensign was glad for the reassurance that helped his find his focus and remember that he could do this job.

McGregor's focus was elsewhere as he circled the bridge casually checking the status of the ship, its crew and mulling his plans over in his head. Molly had seen him in this more subdued mode before. As per usual before heading a potential firefight, McGregor would stroll around the bridge visiting each station collating up-to-the-minute information on the ship and its systems. The bravado and outrageous remarks were forgotten as he assimilated the information into his head with a perfect clarity. Despite his many detractors, Molly knew he cared for the lives under his charge and he amassed information from all over the ship to better inform himself. When he spoke in the meeting with the senior officers about sitting up and reading the relay information, he did not lie or over state the fact. In truth, Molly doubted there was a captain with as intimate a knowledge of their ship or the region of space in which they travelled. Of course, this was an attribute he hardly admitted aloud, which considering how much he liked talking himself up was strange. Modest he was not. However, his ability to soak up such vital information and use it to his advantage was a strength he had and one she herself envied. Not that she'd ever admit it aloud to him!

Keeping a careful eye to Noah Cutler, she watched McGregor too. With a certain fascination, she could see his mind working behind his eyes. She could see the unfolding plans playing out in his head with the flash of his eyes as he scored a victory or a loss at some stratagem or other. She recognised it as the predatory streak in him that he shared with the likes of Rah, the dark hunter mentality that would keep on hunting down its prey, would never let go of the bit between his teeth, that might not know when to stop. Then would come that secret smile of his. The smile that would play at the corner of his mouth and tug his craggy face. The smile that would creep into his eyes and they would flash with a demented glee. That wolfish grin of his, when he would preen to himself, when he delighted in besting an enemy, and when he harboured whatever dark thoughts he kept. When it came, Molly sometimes felt herself shudder for she feared just what lengths he would go to. There was much to marvel about the man known and cursed as the captain of the Kestrel. There was much to be feared too.

"Captaine. All tactical and security stations report ready for action."

The smile on McGregor's face widened. "All set then."

"Oui."

"No thanks, I've just been, captain's log and all that."

Noah covered his mouth surprised at the captain. He also struggled to stifle his own laugh. Cartwright gave Noah a withering disappointed look at his distraction whilst the alluring French woman exclaimed, "Merde! Captaine!"

"Hee, hee." He laughed rubbing his hands together before jumping into his command chair. Spinning in the chair his smile was almost maniacal. "Time for fun. Stanley?"

Molly found the blank blink of Stanley unnerving as he responded, "The helm is ready."

"Good, good. Contessa ready phasers."

The woman nodded slightly as she responded, "Aye captaine."

"Ops? Looking forward to the action Cutler?"

The ensign wanted to faint under the scrutiny but composed himself and gave a stoic reply. "Operations ready captain." He refused to gulp and show his nervousness.

McGregor moved on acting as if offended at Noah's lack of further response. "Denora, sensors?"

The Avian's feathers ruffled in a telltale sign of agitation or excitement. Her response a sharp shrill voice with clicks underneath as she dutifully replied, "Sensors fully functional. Target still on the periphery of sensor range."

"McGregor to Engineering, Eddie what's the score?"

Gardner's rather fed up voice came over the comm. tickling McGregor's mood. "Aye, whatever, just get on with whatever you plan to do and leave me to my engines."

"Open a comm. to the Stallions. Stallion Leader One, ready?"

The cool aloof voice of T'Vel responded clearly. "Ready captain." Molly wondered how poised the Vulcan really was.

"Stallion Leader Two, ready?"

Dexter's cynical response, which came across with the eye roll near virtually audible in his tone. "Ready." Molly could appreciate the cynicism.

"Now, now, Dexter, sound a little bit more excited about it. There's fun to be had." McGregor twiddled with the controls on the armrest of his chair to open a ship wide comm. and so addressed the ship. "This is the Captain ..."

He spun the seat and faced the viewscreen as he gripped the armrests and leaned forward on the edge of the command chair. He sat like a general atop his steed on the field of battle. Ready. Waiting. Baiting. Hungry. The inexperienced ensign at Molly's side leaned forward to listen raptly without intention to the captain's words. A sense a quiet fell over the entire ship. An expectant collective breath awaiting rallying words to battle. Words of courage and bravery and bold moves. Words to raise the blood. All always, Molly knew better when it came to McGregor. A wry smile played across McGregor's face. "Anyone for a game of ping pong?"

* * *​

 

[kes7]

Nice chapter, MF! First of all, I have to say -- A TRIANGLE?! Is that what I saw there? Hehe. Dashiel is playing with fire, between the unstable Vulcan T'Vel and Mila the ball-busting Ukrainian non-com. I like where this is going, even as a fun side jaunt.

Okay, everything else. Poor Jex! No one beyond McGregor himself seems to trust her, and why should they? Deodzi may have been a wonderful pilot, but Leoni is an engineer. I'm sure it's very difficult for anyone who isn't joined to understand how the previous hosts become part of you. You've done a great job illustrating how it works inside Leoni's mind so far, but her crewmates don't have the luxury of peeking inside like we have.

And then there's the great scene on the bridge. Stanley and the bird -- I mean Avian! Hilarious. I can only imagine their date ... Also, I felt for Noah with his perpetual nervousness, and I think Cartwright's pep talk was my favorite part of this chapter. I've never heard Ops described in such loving detail, and it was pretty inspiring to me, so I hope it works on Noah. Her thoughts on McGregor were also illuminating, and it's nice to see that kind of introspection going on.

I can't wait to see what happens in their game of "ping pong." Get writing!

 

[mirandafave]

Glad you like the Jex stuff. It is quite confusing to get into that head space actually! Hee hee. But yeah she has to try and prove herself simply because McGregor has a whim and fancy for her to prove her piloting skills.

As to triangles - I leave such complicated geometry to you! We'll just have to wait and see how that plays out now won't we.

And of course Molly has some - many - thoughts about McGregor. As XO and as a former C.O. herself. She has many valid opinions on the man. And I'm glad too that you liked her description of Ops. It sounds like a rather complicated balancing act. Not sure it is a job I'd want myself! Thanks for reading and sorry about the many real life delays that keep bogging this story down.

 

[CeJay]

We don't get to read about Kestrel and her crew very often but when we do it's usually a treat. No exception here.

This is a great bunch of characters you've got assembled and they all seemed to have their own interesting plot developments.

However something about this setup has me concerned. I can't quite put my finger on it, all I know is that I won't be able to breathe easy again until the mission is accomplished.

Great stuff.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

I absolutely love the banter between your characters! It has a unique flow that seems strangely appropriate for this eccentric crew.

Speaking of eccentric, I can't help but picture "Mad-man" McGregor as Captain of a 19th century Sloop 'o War, chasing down pirates off the Barbary Coast. Perchance, has he done any time traveling?

And I liked the detail you gave (and reasoning behind) the Stallions and carbines. Always good to give the pirates, smugglers and the odd smug 'Fleeter a reason to be wary of the Border Dogs!

 

[mirandafave]

We don't get to read about Kestrel and her crew very often but when we do it's usually a treat. No exception here.Great stuff.

First off, I do want to apologise to all of you readers about the infrequency. It has been a really bad year in different ways. And whilst writing is a great escape, sadly time and even the desire to write is not always there. So thank you for bearing with me and continuing to read. Your comments and reading out a gret big smile on my face.

However, fear not, I ain't giving up on this. I'm not finished with this thing. And there are several ways for things to play out at every turn. So we will have to see just how well things do or don't go from here CeJay.

I absolutely love the banter between your characters! It has a unique flow that seems strangely appropriate for this eccentric crew.

Speaking of eccentric, I can't help but picture "Mad-man" McGregor as Captain of a 19th century Sloop 'o War, chasing down pirates off the Barbary Coast. Perchance, has he done any time traveling?

And I liked the detail you gave (and reasoning behind) the Stallions and carbines. Always good to give the pirates, smugglers and the odd smug 'Fleeter a reason to be wary of the Border Dogs!

Why yes he has done a little time travelling ... oops!

Wow. glad you liked the Stallion explanations. I had to try and extrapolate from your ideas and fit them to this so I'm chuffed to pieces it feels right to you. PS. Big thank you for their usage.

 

[Partzz]

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I really like your book and writing style. I did do a 'Book Cover' just for myself,and have assembled your chapters so far into an ebook for my use. The cover I did is just basically clipped images with some effects. Here is a view of it.....

Hope you like it.​