Lieutenant Cassius Henderson, Chief Tactical Officer
Lieutenant JG Ella Grey, Assistant Chief Engineer
USS
Galaxy:The Next Generation Sim Log Stardate: 50302.23 - 50303.08 |
Lieutenant Cassius Henderson walked into 10-Forward, his eyes open. That seemed almost strange after his whirlwind first few days on USS Galaxy. Lieutenant Commander Black had left some paperwork, as well as the paperwork required after change of command, as well as the personnel interviews that Henderson had ordered. He had wanted to know his assets, but consequently, was dead tired.
So he'd finally just gone back to his quarters, days after receiving them and yet still dozing lightly in the office, and slept for over 10 hours. He'd woken just in time for his shift, as was his custom. Afterwards, he'd felt rejuvenated. He was beginning to get into the routine of being the CTO on the USS Galaxy.
So he did what he usually did, and went looking. He'd reviewed the bios of the officers that Black had recommended and had decided that Ella Grey intrigued him the most. Her refusal to speak almost made sense, but with his own curiosity about people's motives, he had to know. He'd observed her quiet, unobtrusive behavior a few times now, and had decided to get to know her better.
It was Gamma Shift, so she had just gotten off duty. Spotting her sitting alone with her PADD and a drink, Cass walked over to her table and handed her the PADD that he himself held.
*GOOD EVENING, LIEUTENANT GREY.* it read.
Ella, to put it mildly, was shocked. No one had ever presented her with a computer PADD greeting before. She forced herself not to throw out a thousand questions in sign and instead typed back on her own PADD. *GOOD EVENING, LIEUTENANT.*
Cass nodded, and slipped into the seat next to her. She was more attractive than he had thought she would be. The image in her file didn't do her justice. She seemed to have been surprised by his greeting.... which surprised him. He hadn't thought it a particularly novel way of greeting somebody who spoke by PADD. ~Oh well.~ he thought, ~Maybe I'm a little more creative than I give myself credit for.~
She watched as the man sat down and couldn't help but tilt her head, as was her habit, when she felt like inquiring after something. *HOW DO YOU KNOW ME?*
"I actually just came aboard. Lieutenant Black made lieutenant commander and was transferred to the USS Relentless as it's new executive officer. So now I'm in charge of tactical... been dealing with a lot of paperwork. I'm Cassius Henderson, but you can call me Cass." he said, relaxing his posture and letting some of the tension of his work sink into the chair. "Anyway, Black suggested that you were a reliable officer, and I looked up your bio. You are..... interesting to me."
Ah, Ella thought. Well, at least he wasn't a counselor or a marine. This could turn out to be an interesting discussion. *HOW DO YOU LIKE THE SHIP SO FAR?* She was always curious to hear people's responses. Ella helped to keep the darned thing in space after all.
"I'm pretty pleased by what I see. Once we get all the little problems worked out, which your engineering department has been doing an admirable job of, considering all that this ship has been through in the last few months." Henderson replied, "I'm probably going to want to talk to some of your weapons engineers, get an idea of what they really think of the guns on this ship. What they think could be improved. People rarely listen to engineers, but I do."
Ella grinned, her dimples showing. *I THINK THEY'LL LOVE A CHANCE TO CHAT. BUT BE WARNED, ONCE YOU GET AN ENGINEER TALKING ABOUT THEIR SHIP, YOU MIGHT NEVER GET THEM TO SHUT UP AGAIN.*
Cass laughed, "Yes, I know. But the engineers usually have the most realistic ideas about out technology, since you maintain and repair it every day." he said, ordering a drink from a passing waiter.
"So what about you, Ella?" Henderson asked.
Ella raised an amused eyebrow, knowing exactly what he was asking. *EVERYONE IS SO FORWARD THIS WEEK.* the PADD commented. *WHY SHOULD I TELL MY LIFE'S STORY TO A STRANGER, NO OFFENSE.*
"None taken. I am the one being forward after all." he replied, "By all means, you shouldn't. First, and explanation of my behavior. You see, the reason I approached you is that.... quite frankly, you intrigue me. I usually watch people... in the sense of, if I want to get to know somebody, I tend to watch them from a distance... listen to what they say, read their body language. While your body language is very expressive, you obviously don't say much of anything. So here I am. I hope that makes sense. I don't mean to pry."
~Well, Cass, that certainly sounded utterly convoluted. You really are your father's son. All brains and no sense. High intelligence, low wisdom.~ he thought to himself while Grey used her PADD, watching her body language.
The reply she passed back to him was not what he expected. It neither addressed his question or told him off. It simply said *BEFORE YOU CAME, I WAS SPYING ON THAT COUPLE IN THE CORNER. THEY TEND TO HAVE THE MOST INTERESTING PUBLIC BREAK UPS* Ella grinned impishly.
Cass grinned wryly, "I can never understand what people get from breaking up in public, but sometimes watching people gives me a better idea of what they really think, rather than what they say they think." he said, "That and it can be amusing sometimes."
*I LIKE TO PEOPLE WATCH TOO*
Her statement elicited a roguish grin from the tactical lieutenant. This was punctuated by a loud slap as the woman in the couple that Ella had been observing smacked her former significant other. "So...." Henderson began to lead into another line of questioning, but Ella cut him off, though not sharply.
Ella raised another eyebrow. *I'LL GIVE YOU THE SAME DEAL I GAVE ANOTHER GUY RECENTLY. THREE QUESTIONS, THREE ANSWERS.*
"Okay. That sounds fair enough, Ella," Cass thought for a moment... he'd have to make these count, "Before we start, though, I want to know if there are places you won't go? Within reason, I mean."
*BUT THAT TAKES THE FUN OUT OF IT, DOESN'T IT? NATURALLY, THERE ARE SOME THINGS I WOULD RATHER NOT SHARE. I'LL LET YOU KNOW IF YOU CHOOSE ONE OF THEM, HOW'S THAT?"
"Fair enough. Question one then, is probably the easiest. Why do you think people find you so interesting?" Cass asked, leaning back in his chair and watching her respond. ~People watching up close.~
She sat back in her own chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. *I SUPPOSE, she finally wrote, *THAT PEOPLE FIND ME A CHALLENGE TO THE WAY THE WORLD SHOULD FUNCTION. THE SUN RISES AND SETS EVERYDAY, THE EARTH ROTATES, GIRLS CAPABLE OF SPEECH SHOULD SPEAK.*
"That makes sense to me..... Okay, so, while the next logical question would be, why don't you, I think I can guess as to why that might be," Cass said thoughtfully, "So how about this..... Question two; Why Starfleet? I understand your not wanting to be an opera singer, though I have heard your recordings, and do think that they're wonderful. A person should be allowed to do what they want. So my question is, why did you want to join Starfleet?"
Ella's lips moved slightly, a betrayal to the emotions she was feeling. She had never met anyone in the fleet before that knew her work, or at least had admitted to it. For some reason, it unnerved her a bit, the sound of her voice had always been her source of control,but she made her mouth smile anyway. *I KNEW PEOPLE BACK HOME THAT USED TO TALK ABOUT JOINING AND ALL THE OPPORTUNITIES IT AFFORDED THEM. I HAD ALWAYS ENVIED THEM AND PICTURED IT AS A SORT OF ESCAPE, A MEANS OF DOING WHAT I WANTED TO DO. I LIKE TO BUILD AND FIX THINGS, FLY TOO- THAT LAST ONE IS A FREEBEE.*
Cass read her motions as she put down the PADD. After reading it, he placed it down in front of her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say anything to upset you. I've pressed too far. If you want, I'll leave you to your..... watching." Henderson said, almost smiling, but definitely not.
Her smile became more genuine. *NO, I'M INTERESTED IN THIS LAST QUESTION OF YOURS.*
"Very well then," he said, the fixed his eyes on hers, holding her gaze. Then he did the unexpected again and brought his hands up in front of his face and asked her a question in universal sign language, which he had learned for intelligence work, but which was finally paying off.
~~Will you have dinner on the holodeck with me tonight?~~
"How's that for a third question?" he said, hoping she'd accept. She was right. She was a challenge, and that intrigued him. After years of working with SFI, he was tired of talking to the same types of fleet officers over and over, but Ella was something new, something interesting, something different.
Ella's eyes widened in surprise at the question at the sign language. Not that she should be surprised by the sign language- everyone seemed to know it these days. On the whole that was good, easier on her part.
Strange, though, no direct question as to why she was mute. Maybe he thought he already understood. Well, that would be interesting to discuss later.
She put down her PADD. ~~I'd love to.~~ her hands expressed.
“Great. Pick you up in two hours?” Cass asked, glancing at the clock as he stood. Not only did he have to do another evaluation in that time, but modifying the holo-program would take a moment.
Ella nodded her head with a smile.
“Okay, well then, I need to go run my last evaluation for the day. But I’ll meet you at your quarters in two hours.” Henderson said, then retreated from her table. Meanwhile, the man at the other table had started to protest being broken up with and had received a knee to the crotch for his troubles. He fell to the ground, knocking over a glass of wine into the lap of the Algolian at the table next to him.
Ella grinned again.
"You..want..what?" Captain John Brhode nearly gasped to the gray haired man on the view screen. One of the things that Brhode prided himself upon was his eternal vigilance.
No matter what crisis would rear its ugly head in the universe, one could always count on Mrs. Brhode's baby boy and his crew to be up to the challange. This time however, the man before him had asked for something so absurd, that no amount of training could have prepared the Captain to not seem a touch taken aback.
"I hearby ask you for asylum. As a citizen of the Federation, it is well within my rights to request your protection and I would now like to avail myself and my companions of sanctuary aboard your vessel." Mudd said twisting his handlebar moustache.
Brhode sat back down in the main chair and crossed his legs, brushing imperceptible smudges off his cutsom made Hirogen skin boots.
He then folded his hands upon his lap.
"Request denied. Have a good day. Helm, plot a course to..."
"NOW WAIT JUST A MINUTE, CAPTAIN!" Mudd stammered, then regained his composure justa bit. "You can't just deny me my rights!"
"I can, and I have." the steely eyed old man said rather matter of factly.
"What? Are you people still holding a grudge over that whole little Kirk thing?" the man on the viewscreen asked.
Brhode tapped a few keys on his arm rest. "Truth be told I could care less about James Kirk. What I do care about is bringing an interstellar rouge, con man and general ne'er-do-well aboard my ship. It's bad enough I have to tolerate Streely, I dont feel the need to open my doors to a man who's criminal record includes..Number One.." the Captain ordered.
Commander Von Ernst, never missing a beat, began to recite the same list of charges that she herself called up. "Smuggling, transportation of stolen goods, purchasing a vessal with conterfeit currency..not to mention that whole fraud issue over the Vulcan fuel synthisizer."
"Now I wouldn't call it fraud per se', more like technical information servicing." Mudd said.
"I'm sure the Denebians felt differently. Didn't that charge carry a death penalty?" Lysander asked.
Brhode tugged his tunic.
"You see Mr. Mudd, putting aside the apparent mystery that you are old enough now to quite literally be a long decayed corpse, and being skeptical in how you managed to remain hale and hearty to begin with, I just don't like you. Now before I even so much as allow one synapse to process a fleeting thought of bringing you aboard this ship - buying into whatever grand scheme you no doubt have yourself wrapped up in - I want you to give me one damn good reason why you should be allowed to walk the halls of this magnificant ship."
Brhode leaned foreward for more emphasis.
"And I do mean DAMNED good."
Lights on the tactical arch began to blink. With a quick hand Lt. Donovan Black processed the incoming data then announced: "Captain! Sensors indicate two incoming ships! They are hailing us!"
"On screen." Brhode announced with a scowl.
A green skinned, thickly built Orion leered back at him.
"You are in Orion space. Leave now, or suffer."
Brhode's eyebrows shot up. "Now pardon me if I misunderstood you, but it sounded like you told me leave or suffer. Is that correct?"
The Orion snarled. "You heard me, human. Leave or suffer."
"Yeah, that what I thought you said." Brhode said, then motioned with is hand to cut the transmission. "Red alert! Shields up! Target his warp drive and prepare to fire on my mark." the Captain ordered as the red lights lit the bridge and...
...Klingon opera music began to blare from the ship's intercom.
Black looked up from his board. "Sir, we still have no shields! And the Orions are powering up thier phasers!"
"GODDAMN QUICK AND HIS GODDAMN VIRUS! ALL HANDS BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Brhode bellowed as the Orion phasers slammed into the defensless ship.
"HELM! EVASIVE MANEAUVERS ASAP!! TACTICAL RETURN FIRE AT WILL!! ENGINEERING, I WANT MY SHIELDS UP AND I WANT THEM YESTERDAY! FIND QUICK IF YOU HAVE TO! AND BEAM UP MUDD AND HIS LITTLE FRIENDS! HE JUST MAY KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!"
NRPG: Alright everyone, you have your assignments. Helm you get to work your magic and do some combat flying. Tactical you get to open the shooting gallery. You may destroy 1 of the 2 ships if you like. Engineering, in classic Trek fashion there is a bunch of repair on the fly needed right this very minute. Brandon, you get to role play Mudd coming aboard with his 8 Fem-Bots in tow.
Everyone else, as the main story unfolds you are going to essentially be able to write about a Fem Bot and your character in whatever capacity you like. That should make for some wierd prose from some of you. You want to give them a mean streak have at it. You want them stealing the ships silverware, go ahead. You want to have them lust after you..by all means have at it. Get those ideas perculating people.
Adrian hadnt walked walk two steps into the room when Zerhi threw a towel at him. Showing the innocent look, he started to laugh when he saw her shirt covered in various stains, ranging from peas to ice cream.
Ive finally put YOUR son to bed.
Oh, so when hes being a mischievous little joker, hes MY son. He placed the rag on the sink and gave her a nice kiss. And, when hes being good, hes YOUR son, is that it?
In defense of Maxim, he really was a very good child, an ideal kid to baby-sit even. At an early age, El-Aurians begin to display their passion for learning, whether it be with blocks, books, or in Maxims case, painting (and arent we very glad Bhrode doesnt do surprise inspections, or Maxims passion would give our beloved Captain a coronary!) However, he was like any normal child, and could be occasionally rowdy. Thats normal for all children, Maxim was no exception. However at times Adrian and Zerhi wondered at times if Maxim raised rowdy to a high art.
Im afraid so sweets, She kissed him back. When he gives that certain smile, he looks just like you!
So, what has MY son been up to thats got you so worked up?
Besides our customary food fight?
Hey, those are mighty fun! Adrian chirped up. And, Ive had to clean him up afterwards must say, how child can get that dirty is amazing
Do you know how long it can take to CLEAN paint from a wall?
Oh honey, its just one or two drawings, I cleaned it up last time, piece of cake! He walked to the bedroom and began to change into something more comfortable.
One or two drawings? He brow raised as she came in there with him. Maxim was working on a full scale mural!
You should have saved it for when I got home dearest, He slipped a pair of pants and a T-shirt. We could have had it photographed and placed in the album.
I did.
Zerhi reached over to the top of the drawer, and handed her husband a picture that made his draw drop. The scene had a black background and numerous white dots for stars. Within it, was the Galaxy in a dogfight with a Breen Ship and from what he tell, winning. Below that scene was a very interesting depiction of the Captain giving orders to the crew. Adrian had a clear idea it was Bhrode. He carried a scowling look, and the vein on his forehead was about to burst. The crew themselves look half-scared to death. Some were sweating, some biting their nails, and one was passed out. Though done by a three-year-old, the mural looked much thought out, and carefully drawn down to the last detail.
Wow, Adrian spat out after a minute of serious examining. I take it he was putting last touches when you walked in.
Yep, he drew Commander Ernst, and was about to put a caption of Noodles, when I interrupted him.
He looked at Zerhi in slight puzzlement. Okay I dont even want to know
Daddy! Maxim yelled with joy as he ran into the bedroom and lifted up by his father. Youre home!
And youve been busy! He gave him a fatherly look. Didnt your mom put you to bed.
Yes sir, He answered. But I wanted you to do it, so you can chase the Q out from under my bed!
Q He glanced at Zerhi as Maxim got down from Adrian and began to lead his father to his bedroom. He would dropped into El-Aurian, but their little boy easily understood and could fluently speak it for a child his age. Terran Children have bogeyman, Bajoran children have what? Pah-wraiths? And we have the Q?
I think it was a joke started by my mother. She shrugged, then laughed. A joke that has gone a little off course?
Ill say. He agreed.
Adrian entered the bedroom and stopped at the doorway, trying to guess which wall it had been this time. He finally figured it out when he saw a speck of red paint just barely clinging to the wall. He didnt stay there long as Maxim tugged his father over to his bed.
You know, if Q were here, he would get a laugh out of this! He mused in his head as he bent down to check under it. It was clean, with three pairs of shoes tucked neatly under it. Nope, no Q under there, so your all safe!
What about my closet?
He got up, wanting to chuckle as he began. Here Q, come out, come out, wherever you are!
Adrian paused dramatically at the door as Maxim watched with great anticipation. Suddenly, the doors flew opened, and Adrian stood there in a very familiar defensive posture, ready give any Q that co-inhabited the room with his son a nice kick out the door. He closed the door, slowly turned around, lowered his hands and smiled. Nope, not a trace of Q anywhere in sight!
Are you sure daddy? He gave his father a mock serious look, ready to burst at any moment into a big smile
Am I sure? He lifted up Maxim, tickling him in the process and set him down on the bed. Im your daddy, Im course Im sure!
I know daddy, He grinned back, giving Adrian a big hug and snuggled into the covers. I love you daddy.
I love you too my precious little Maxim.
Adrian stayed in the room until his son fell fast asleep, then walked to the door and turned off the light. Before leaving, he raised his hands in the traditional defensive posture and did a thorough sweep of the bedroom with his higher senses at maximum strength just to be on the safe side. Officially, Maxim was the first El-Aurian birth documented, something, which was brought to the attention of certain people, and Adrian prayed that wasnt from the darker places. He couldnt help but remember his encounter over a year ago with Q on the old Galaxy. Though the omnipotent being announced his happiness for the expecting couple, Adrian couldnt help but feel that a shadier purpose was his reason for the visit. Something wasnt right about that encounter, and it sent a spine-tingling chill up Adrians spine as he finally ceased his gaze, and returned to his wife in the living room.
"Ambassador-General, I beg to differ. This would not - IS not - an eye-opening experience for me. Brhode is a fool." Kylar Curran, the Kelvan Liaison Officer on board the Galaxy, glared into the viewscreen that housed the image of Natasha Mol, the current head of the Federation Liaison Corps and representative to the Federation Council. She was dishevelled, having been woken up at this early hour, and unprepared for the urgency Curran had imposed on her.
"Captain Brhode is highly regarded in many circles, Kylar, and dangerous. Do not take this duty with any lack of seriousness. I though Kelvans never under-estimated their foes?" She reached up and over the terminal in her home to grasp something out of sight, and her voicec became muffled. Good thing she wasn't in eyesight of him; he was put him by the accusation.
"No offense, Ambassador, but this ship is permeated with Terrans and incompetents. With the exception of a few standouts, I do not see how the Federation will survive if this is what is to be the 'elite' few. The Borg and Dominion Wars have decimated the fleet. Starfleet is rushing its cadets out far too quickly to be considered safe. I have no confidence in the senior staff of this vessel."
Mol seated herself once again, her hair now settled into place. She knew Kylar would have preferred to have been assigned to a vessel that had at least one of his kind on it, but this position had yet to be defined. He was among the first of many liaison officers to be placed on the ships of the line, and would not be the last. Standards needed to be set, and for this bridged position between Starfleet and the Federation, they needed people who could be trusted to further the needs of the Federation, and bring Starfleet back into line again.
She herself, was a 'Dove' supporter. She firmly believed the good of the Federation would soon encompass the military doctrines of the Starfleet and bring it back under its Exploratory auspices.
Of course, Curran was on the fence. He knew Mol was being manipulated through her own superiors through certain releases of information that would allow him his flexibility in expanding his influence, but he didn't have to like it.
He didn't really care how things got done, just that they were done for the right reasons. Being on a vessel that harbored so many undisciplined minds was a threat to his ultimate goal, and would set the agenda back. He supported a military stance like the 'Hawks' were pushing, but only to promote efficiency. Not in the belief that violence begets violence. The 'Doves' stance of negotiation through peaceful intervention was bold, and proper if could be brought about, but there are times one needs to back up their words. He strove to find a balance of the two.
"You don't need to have confidence, Kylar. Only make sure they follow the rules. Now, if the sole reason you messaged me was to complain about your situation, maybe I selected the wrong person for the job. Did I select the wrong person, Legate?" The tone of her voice was cold, on edge. This was the final word. If he bowed to her, then his own career would be put in jeopardy, even if he was removed from this motley crew. He would never be seen as a viable source by his people again.
He took a deep breath and jutted his chin. He'd been beaten by a human once again. This was getting embarrassing, bordering on humiliation.
"Thank you for your advice, Ambassador-General. I apologize for interrupting your schedule." She may be haltingly beautiful for a human, but he would in now way show his weakness to her. She'd beaten him at wordplay, and maybe set his faith with her back a few steps.
"It is quite alright, Legate." All business and formalities aside. "We may have a need to recall you to Earth shortly, but I will inform you when the time arrives." She held up her hand before Curran could speak, even though he had no intention to. He would listen. For now. There will come a day when they will listen to him, though.
"It will only be for consultations. A short time, and then sent back to the Galaxy to continue your tour." She rifled through some padds to catch the one she had been hunting for.
"There is a new Tactical Officer being assigned to the Galaxy." She gazed over his personnel record. Kylar had known of the personnel change through his monitorings of key phrases in communications.
"You might want to meet with Lieutenant Henderson. He is a graduate of the Advanced Tactical in Glasgow Scotland. An excellent facility. Not quite at par with the Wolf-359 school, but he did graduate in the top percentile of the class. He is favoured by Admiral deMercereau. Are you familiar with her?" She glanced up from his records to await a response from Curran, who in return nodded. He himself was reading his file. Mol gave a double-take to Curran, noticing his ominous quiet stance, but continued on regardless.
"He is supportive of our movement to fend off the Starfleet desire for a change in doctrines. He will make an excellent ally."
Curran noticed he had a background in Intelligence as well. More skills to benefit his goals. His eyes caught on a reprimand.
"He got several officers killed for negligence in his duties. Why has be been assigned to the Galaxy? His psychological profile doesn't fit with the character-type needed for the position."
"It is not our place to question orders, Legate. Do not walk that path." Another icy glare. He'd put her off indeed. She must really value this Henderson, or is pressured by someone who does. It wasn't like the Liaison Corps to be supportive of any Starfleet order. He could only put his faith in that she had questioned the validity and points he had seen, and been 'convinced'.
"I will meet with him, Ambassador." He closed off the file, with all his will holding him back from slamming it closed.
"I knew I could count on you, Kylar." Back to the use of his first name, but only as an emphasis on her earlier threat. "I await your report at the next *scheduled* interval."
He closed his eyes and nodded in acknowledgement. When he opened them, the transmission had been terminated. He slammed his fist down on the table jarring all the padds off the edge to clatter to the floor.
Meanwhile, the Galaxy had dropped out of warp, and outside Kylar's port window, hung a small freighter.
Before going to her meeting Rose Isis MacAllen wanted to stop by James office to talk to him about the upcoming dinner and Father and Children day as Karyn's day care.
The young Betazoid walked in and saw so many male officers walking around or relaxing, she grins at then alittle.
"Hey, Boys how are you?"
Like the simultaneous march of soldiers in boot camp, the sound of a dozen feet stopping at once greeted the beautiful science officer. Security officers, young and old alike, stopped stone still for one faithful second, gawking at the wonderful sight.
"Hi, Missus MacA!" A security officer said.
"We're doing great today, Missus MacA!" Another officer chirped.
"Thank you boys!" she said with an gentle smile while looking around the room.
"Wow... a woman. A science woman..." A green, academy fresh ensign sighed. "Don't see many of those coming over here."
"Hey, that's Lieutenant Commander MacAllen." One of the other new people in security whispered to the first ensign, "Way outta your league. You're more suited for O'Rourke."
"HEY! I heard that!" Jokingly piped a mousy woman hunched over her desk, reading the Federation Legal Weekly.
As with the weekly ritual of Rose's visits, the security staff (sans some of the women) participated in the weekly gawk, stare, and whisper out of the science officer's earshot about her good looks. It was a welcome icebreaker and stress relief for the rather macho contingent, as well as a goldmine for the Galaxy's rumor mill.
As for this woman, she was the motherlode of rumors and speculation.
Ensign Hanley gasped in amazement, trying to look back in vain at his PADD.
"Could you sound any more eloquent?" Ensign So'ka nudged his friend on the shoulder, "Go on... talk to her."
"Eeeehhhh... I don't think I should go talk to her." Ensign Hanley stepped back.
"Awww, come on. Talk to her." So'ka insisted.
"I don't know..." Hanley, unsure of himself, stuttered.
"Come on..."
"I can't..."
"Don't be a p*ssy..."
"But I don't...."
So'ka nudged one last time, hitting Hanley with a force equal enough to shove Ensign Hanley stumbling towards the Science officer. With held breaths, security's eyes were all locked on Ensign Hanley, as he found himself face to face with the 'beautiful' Rose Isis MacAllen.
"Go on... say it." So'ka said with a devilish smile, as the rest of the security staff waited with grins and muffled chuckles.
Paul Hanley was sweating power packs as he was face to face with Rose, pondering what he should do, being up close to a woman who's very presence could cause him to land in the brig. In his head, he recalled the protocols, trying to find where in the Starfleet Regs manual it talked about commanding officers and hitting on people. Unfortunately, he could find none, only that his butt was in the brig if he did what the rest of the security staff was trying to force him to do.
So, he said, "Ummmm... hi?"
The security office rippled with slight waves of contained snickering, with the occasional spattering of 'p*ssy...'.
Rose looked at the other officers then looks back towards the young Ensign with alittle grin, "Hello, Ensign how are you?"
"Go on Hanley. How are you? I already placed 5 creds on you..." So'ka teased.
"You what?" Hanley spat, exasperated, as another wave of snickering pulsed through the department. He looked back at Commander MacAllen, her much aware face frightening him. Paul Hanley couldn't admit it to his friend, but he was very intimidated.
"Go on..." So'ka nudged.
"Ummm..." Hanley tried to find the words to get out without being court martialled, "Well... are you here to see the boss?"
Instantly, a bemoaning groan replaced the snickering, as security officers everywhere griped about the nervousness and idiocy of Ensign Paul Hanley. In the corner, So'ka reluctantly slapped down five credits into Lieutenant jg T'lan's hands.
"I told you, logic always wins out." T'lan stated coldly.
"Well..." Paul Hanley ignored the side bet, going back to Rose, "The boss is in his office. You know his open door policy."
"Thank you boys have an good day!" she told then while the young Betazoid walked towards James's office onces more.
Security staff gathered, almost making a loose, informal corridor to Lieutenant Commander Corgan's office. They all held mischevous grins (except for the races who didn't have emotions, or the races who didn't have the proper musculature to try) as she walked to the office.
"You're welcome, Missus MacA!" All the officers jokingly cheered.
Rose nods towards the officers and when up to James's door the young Betazoid took an deep breath and push the door bell while the other male officers kept theirs eyes on the beautiful science officer.
James popped out of his office, giving all his security department a wary glance. "At ease, boys!" James boomed, then spoke slyly, "Whether you can help it or not..."
Rose smiled at James while standing outside his door with her hands on her stomach, "Hello love may I come in I wanted to see you before I went to work."
"Ummmm..." James stammered, taking a hostile glance at his department, who was huddled outside his office and making speculations about what was going on behind those doors. Corgan stopped at his 'ummmmm...'. He was at a loss of words, not knowing exactly what to say.
Or for that matter, not knowing exactly what to do.
James wasn't used to literally right out of the blue visits from attractive science officers. The fact that he was seeing Rose so much lately caused him to think of why she was spending so much time with him. Undeniably, Corgan was flattered by the attention. It wasn't often that the opposite gender gave him attention at all (though lately, rumor had it there was no problem).
But his worries was not about himself or the amount of time he spent with Rose, but why Rose seemed to be so attracted to him. He couldn't deny it. All the references of 'love' whenever she spoke to him hinted strongly of lechery. The fact that she was recently widowed, and acting as if her marriage didn't happen worried him. He has suspicions that she couldn't stand to be alone, and that she clinged to men like a remora to a shark, always feeding off them to ensure her emotional survival, instead of becoming a stronger person and finding the right reasons to do what she did.
~"It couldn't be all that. Who gets over their husband that easily?"~ James thought, ~"And 'love' is used as an expression all the time... hell... knew an englishman who would say that to women he didn't know. She may be a bit confused, but she can't be that crazy for me. Probably some silly thing... it'll most likely pass."~
He added a thought, ~"Whatever makes me comfortable. Hmmm... maybe she is crazy for me. Perhaps I better find out... without upsetting her."~
His mind lit up like a thunderbolt. He had the perfect idea! It was one question.
"Ummm.... i'm doing alright, Rose." James answered her formally, taking a neutral stance, "I'm doing alright. Department's in tip-top shape. I'm ready to take your kid to the daycare. I know what i'll say to the kids... been practicing all night. And... i'm so... ready."
He let loose with his question, "So... I notice you've been seeing me more lately, and we've.. exhausted most of our conversation topics. Ummmm... something on your mind?"
"I like been with you if that a problem?" Rose asked with an puzzle look on her face, while sitting down in an couch near by while looking around the room.
~"She has to be onto me by now."~ James thought to himself, ~"Geez... what am I going to do with her? Can't just shoot her down since I actually like her. But I have to slow things down before I find myself... going domestic."~
He added, ~"Face it, i'm whipped."~
Also Rose wanted to do some music videos hoping that James will help her with that also along with some other things.
"I don't know about that, Rose." James reluctantly stuttered, "I'm a Starfleet officer now. For me, music was just a hobby, something I did to pay my tuition. And it was for fun too, you know? I didn't do it to be famous or rich, just to get by. I left it behind to fight the war, and now i'm keeping it behind me because my job at security is much more important to me than my music."
He then added, "If you really want help, I can talk to my sister on Earth. She owns a media corporation and she's helped many musicians. I'm sure she'll get you on that track a lot better than I can.
"Forget it, I will ask somebody on Betazed."
"You know..." James said, "I do have one thing I can do to help."
Rose looked over his way, "What is it, James?"
"Well... i'm starting to do guitar lessons for some of the crew. I just started with my first student, Commander Von Ernst. I'm thinking of expanding it as a weekly group session on the holodeck. If you want to seriously take up music, you should give the guitar a try."
When Rose heared of Rebecca's name the young woman just turn into an cold look, Rebecca always hated Rose for some reason of course the young Commander Von Ernst kissed everybody ass to get where she is right now.
"I don't think so love singing is really my thing not playing an guitar." she told him while hiding her feeling of coldness towards Rebecca Von Ernst while giving him an gentle smile.
Sensing the slight chill in her voice, James replied, "Ok... no guitar lessons. That's ok. We can do other stuff too. I'm just... well... running out of things to talk about. When you hang around me, you'll find that i'm either dull with the things I talk about, or not willing to tell you the exciting stuff... since it... involves the war and whatnot. Tell you the truth, what you see is what I am nowadays. I don't hide it. I'm a dull, dull person."
"I don't find you dull, and little Karyn just loves you."
~And so do I~ she though to herself, then Rose looked back toward James's face with an smile.
"So what about dinner with me and little Karyn in the holodeck? Found any good programs?"
James eyes lit up with excitement, "Are you kidding me? Well, I do have... a little something."
He slipped an isolinear chip into his fingers, and toyed with it in his hands, "I have an authentic Andorian bistro down at the Al'kazar beach on Untinas Prime. Beautiful scenery, awesome food... and there's even a kids menu. My treat. What do you say?"
"Yes, sounds wonderful James." Rose told him in an gentle voice.
"Excellent. I can run it tomorrow at six... it'll be an hour after my guitar lesson with Rebecca, so that should be no problem."
"By the way thanks for saving me from your team out there but I don't mind what there doing makes me feel beautiful and needed again, feels like I'm an teenager back on Betazed again..all type of men falling for me."
James smiled sympathetically, "Well... I do what I can. Just want you to be happy, that all. Want to get across that you don't have to be alone and lonely all the time as long as you have friends around you. You know... you should see your other friends as well. I bet they miss you."
"I don't think some of the crew agrees with you James."
As if by magic (or some form of Murphy's Law), security alert sirens rang off all at once. The red lights in the security office blared out, its clanging sirens reverberating all around.
=/\="Security Alert! All security personnel report to battle stations =/\= The computer ordered.
"Well... sh*t on a stick." James muttered, sighing as if he was resigned to his fate, "Looks like we have some trouble. Wouldn't call battlestations unless we at least ran into a smuggler. Do me a favor. Go to your science station, and stay put. It's going to be pretty busy out here, even if its just a smuggler or something."
James office door slid open, an ensign popped his head in to look. "Oh... hi Missus MacA. SIR! Just got the report! Theres a Bolian shuttle outside with a known criminal on board. We're going to bring the shuttle in."
"Then by all means, relay these orders." James boomed, "Send security team alpha and gamma to the main shuttle bay. And order teams epsilon, omega, tango, foxtrot, and rho to each take a transporter room... in case they beam him over. And hurry it up!"
"Yes boss! Oh... bye Missus MacA!" The ensign waved, then bolted off like lightning."
He glanced at Rose, "You better get a move on. Brhode's gonna be pissed if he sees you out of place. I'll see you soon, ok?"
"See you later, Love." she told him with an smile and walked out the door towards her Archology Lab.
When the young Betazoid woman got there her team was already getting ready for anything what will come there way.
That made her very proud..
Her left hand had, unfortunately, been reaching for the panel when it had exploded.
Ella made a disgusted sound as she fumbled with the tool. Her hand was functioning but stiffly and her fingers felt thick as she tried to use the tool and work around the blisters at the same time.
You've felt worse, she told herself and focused on trying to salvage anything from the charred panel.
Thankfully, the ships gravity sensors weren't fried, it was hard to fight a battle when floating around on the bridge- the thought of the Captain barking orders from the ceiling eased the discomfort for a moment- but people were probably going to have problems with the ship's weather controls over the next few days.
But that was what bathing suits and parkas were for, right?
She sighed and moved on to the next problem.
Brianna moved through Engineering glancing around and issue orders to her staff, "Get damage control teams up there then, I don't want to hear it can't be done, we don't say those words under my command." Anna informed a young faced officer as she walked up beside Ella.
"What have you got?" Brianna asked as she glanced over at the MSD.
*WHAT HAVEN'T I GOT?* Ella replied on her PADD. *SHIELDS, LIFE SUPPORT, THE WARP CORE...YOU NAME IT, IT'S GOING BUGGY.*
Another engineer, Delphino, smacked a faulty console as if to prove her point. Ella stomped her foot to get Delphino's attention and tossed over another PADD with the necessary calculations on it.
Brianna shook her head. Looking at the damage she then motioned for Mia and Melvin to come over.
*I DON'T SUPPOSE WE COULD ASK THEM NICELY TO STOP.* Ella typed.
"Ella, you focus a team on shields, strengthening and rebuilding. Mia, take a team and head for sickbay. Melvin, start looking for new ways to produce energy for shields." Brianna said then looked around, "I'll handle the warp core."
*I'M ON IT.* Ella typed before heading off to grab some people and work on the shields.
Brianna motioned some engineers to follow and she started toward the warp core.
[Takes place the day before departure]
****
Betty frowned and peered into the smoked windows of the shop, cupping her hands to help the attempt to see inside.
"Gunny! I told you... that Visitor information guy said that this was the best range on..." nattered one of the gaggle of Marines behind her.
"Shut up Dalhquist. you talk too much" Betty grunted still trying to see inside.
"PAY or leave! Welcome to Tellots, the best shooting on lan'Jep! Check your weapons at the door and use the Houses'!" bellowed the tinny speaker located inside the smiling face on the sign above the door. It was in Klingon, so most of the Marines didn't get it.
The speaker had been saying that for several moments now, the circuits clearly confused by someone trying to WATCH for free. On a Klingon resort planet, people usually tried to shoot for free, not watch.
The Marines, already bored by the displays at Barat's Bak'Leth House fidgeted under the pleasant semi-tropical sun.
"All right you slugs. You ALL need refresher training on Disruptors. So you're gonna go in here and.." Betty began her speech, turning from the window.
The quiet of the street was broken by a shrill scream as a Ferengi - the same 'Tellot' whose smiling face adorned the holosign over the indoor range - literally flew out the double doors on the front of the building. Smoke rose from the charred seat of his mauve and fuchsia pants, and a stray phaser blast chased him out the door, urging him on to a new level of outraged shrieking.
The sound of phaser fire continued from within the building as the Ferengi dashed from one spot to another, stopping to look at puddles left by the just-ended shower until he found one he judged deep enough and sat down in it abruptly. As steam rose up around him, more yelling sounded inside and the doors slammed open again, disgorging three Klingon men - one with a smoking spot on his tunic-front - and a Tiburonian woman, all frantic in their haste to depart the building.
The Ferengi shrieked as the four fled across the street, only seeing Betty when he stopped to take a breath. He sized her up, noting the way she stood, and snapped, "You! I'll pay you to get that woman out of my store! She's ruining my business!"
Betty blew a snort out of her nose and frowned down at the Ferengi.
"Do I LOOK like the cops?" she demanded testily.
"Of course not, hooman! You look dangerous! That's why I'll pay you to do it - the police here are useless, not worth the bribes I pay them! What good, I ask you, is a cop who won't stay bought?" He looked closer. "So, will you do it?"
"No." Betty replied.
"What? She is RUINING me! They are RUINING me! I have offspring to feed!" the Ferengi wailed.
"I am very happy for you. Call your insurance agent. And the cops. Neither of whom is me. I'm a customer, not your flaming bouncer." Betty flared.
From inside, another barrage of phaser blasts sounded, along with the shattering of glass.
"Aiiieee!" Tellot looked frantically around the street, counting the marines that were laughing at him. "All right, all right! Get her out of there and... and you can shoot...can shoot for...." The words seemed to be stuck in his throat.
More glass broke, and something that might have been the squeal of circuitry expiring followed it.
"You can shoot for... for... I will give you the Special Discount Rate," he begged. "Please, you have to stop her - she's the most dangerous thing I've ever seen!"
Betty smiled and twisted the knife harder. It wasn't really a pretty smile. "Then maybe we should shoot for free, after we clean up for you?" she urged.
"Aaaaah!" Tellot threw his hands up over his ears. "Not that word! Please, not that word! I..." he glanced at the shop "I.. will..." More shots sounded from inside. "I... you can... shoot... Yes," he finally got out, unable to say the word.
"The 'You' in 'You can shoot' referring to ALL of us." she added, over the sobbing and rending of garments from the Ferengi, indicating the Marines.
"All of you!?" he screeched, looking around wildly. "But there are... you will..." A particularly delicate crash tinkled and sounded from inside. "No!" he groaned. "Not the Aldeberanian Crystal trophy case!" he looked up, eyes bright with desperation. "Yes, yes, all of you! for FREE! Just stop her!"
"Boys?" Betty smirked, cracking her knuckles.
****
Inside the shop.
The open door darkened a moment, as Rifleman Dahlquist somersaulted through it and took cover behind the "Check your weapons" desk. His hand snaked up and found a Klingon sidearm, jumbled on the top. He waved his other hand. The rest of the ten marines swarmed through a moment later and joined him behind cover.
Except Betty. She joined someone else, at the dubious cover afforded by the 'Pay HERE' desk.
Betty eyed Victor Krieghoff and snorted though her pert nose. "You. I should have known. If there is trouble, you're in it." she added as an afterthought.
"Afternoon, Gunny." Victor nodded pleasantly, shifting so she had half the available cover.
"You don't have a relative named 'Valhoun' do you? Irritating? Cute in a scruffy way? Self destructive? Or is that you I'm describing?" she added spitefully, crowding into the cover. She was aware that parts of her were pressing on parts of Vic in a manner neither seemed to find comfortable. Or disagreeable.
A stray bolt impacted over their heads, sending tendrils of afterblast winding around the hairs on their heads.
"No. Never heard of him. " Victor sounded positive. "You looking for him?"
"Avoiding him, is more like it." Betty snorted again, wriggling to maximize her cover. It also brought her into more contact with Vic. ~Drat.~ she thought to herself.
Victor shifted slightly, trying to make the situation easier for her, but stopped when it became apparent that he was only making things worse. "Sorry, Gunny," he offered in a low voice. "Not a lot of room here."
"We have to stop meeting like this. What is going on here?" Betty demanded, sneaking a peek around the desks' corner.
Standing in the middle of the holographic range stood a pair of attractive Andorian women wearing snug-fitting shorts and cropped tops, the shorter one's hair in a long braid. The taller one was in a rough approximation of a phaser firing stance, and the other woman stood behind her, coaching her. As Betty watched, another holotarget disc spun out from the emitter, and the taller woman turned to fire at it - six times - missing with each shot. The last one almost parted Dahlquist's scalp as he leered over the desk at them.
"That's it," the coach nodded. "You were much closer that time. Just try not to lead the next target so much this time."
"My aunt wanted to get some practice in before certifications this year," Victor offered, looking at an indicator on the wall. "The owner didn't know what he was agreeing to, I'm afraid."
"Your Aunt." Betty grunted, disbelieving. Betty peeked again at the Andorian woman and back at the visibly Human Victor. "And I thought MY family was messed up, when we adopted a kid from another mining base," she muttered, mostly to herself.
"My Uncle Bernhard married into their quad about the time I entered the Academy," Victor explained, forcing himself to remain still as Betty's position shifted when she looked up from where she was leaning around him. "He was older than they were, but they're. very persistent. He and Uncle Thallick died in the War. They took leave to come visit me."
"Umm hmmmmm..... Does the phrase 'too much information' mean anything to you?" Betty growled. "A better question would be 'why are they trying to kill all sentient life insi..."
Another holotarget spun out, this time looping back in the opposite direction. The taller Andorian turned, firing steadily, scoring hits on two chairs, someone's discarded glass of Romulan Ale, and a picture of Tellot with an attractive woman with a distinctive purple skin color and little else on. The target, again, escaped unscathed.
Outside, another wail of anguish sounded from the Ferengi. "Well? Is she dead yet?"
"Shaddup out there!" Betty shouted at max volume. "Dahlquist! Take everyone outside; try to sit on the owner. Some more stuff is gonna be broken before I get this... under... awwww.... snark it!" she muttered. "This is never gonna be under control, is it?" Betty muttered to Victor.
"Not for." Victor eyed the range counter. "Twenty-three more targets. Rexa passes her live-fire qualifications with minimum ratings, and the Range Master usually dummies those up. I think they believe she's dangerous enough that anyone with a shred of self preservation will dive for cover - allied or enemy."
"I thought not. Why can't they just do like the Security nerps and play with the pakled settings?" Betty muttered, again mostly to herself.
Another Holotarget shot out and crossed the range. Seven phaser shots peppered the interior of the room, all missing the target.
"I take it that he sold them on a full power series?" Betty demanded, eying the damage to the walls around her.
"Of course - it's the most expensive one, and he *is* a Ferengi." Victor looked up at the counter to check the remaining targets again, felt Betty start to peer around the corner and overbalance - and reached out without thinking to catch her.
Betty turned on her own as he did so, training taking over and shifting her to take the impact in the least damaging manner. The two motions collided, merged, and stopped in a split-second.
Victor found himself looking down into Betty's eyes, one arm around her waist and the other cradling the back of her shoulders as she lay against his chest, looking up at him, one hand gripping his shirt front. ~ Oh boy. This is not good. Maybe she'll leave me one working kidney.~
On her part, Betty was not only shocked at the physical proximity, but more shocked at the fact she didn't have the desire to rip his arms off and beat him over the head with them. ~~I should KILL this guy!~~~ she mused, reflecting on the scuttlebutt that flew around every time he so much as glanced at her. ~~ Could this get ANY worse?~~
Of course it can.
"Heinrich! What on earth are you doing!"
Victor's eyes closed and he literally cringed, jerking like he'd just been stabbed. Betty smirked and looked to see the cause. Over the top of the desk she could see a pair of antennae-topped blue faces looking down at them curiously.
"Yes, what *are* you doing, Heinrich?" That was the shorter one with the long hair. "I can't believe."
".that we caught you like this!" The taller one exclaimed. "What came over you."
".Heinrich? Whatever will your Ella."
".think?" The taller one peered closer. "Really, I'm shocked! At the."
"...very least you could have *told* us that..."
".you were going to be overcome by your natural urges. We would have understood what being with out."
"...a lover for this long, and having to repress that powerful Krieghoff sexual drive would make you do." The shorter woman nodded. "If we'd just known, then."
".we could have arranged for Ella to be locked in a."
"...room with you or something."
~ I wonder if Rexa left any charge in that phaser?~ he thought, longing for the end.
"Well?" the shorter woman sighed. "Aren't you at least."
"...going to introduce us?" finished the taller seamlessly.
"Gunny," he sighed softly, "these are my aunts, Rexa and Ar'resh. That's Rexa with the phaser. Ladies, this is Master Gunnery Sergeant Major Goldstein from the Galaxy." ~ Who will be removing my spleen with a dull spoon any second now, ~ he added mentally.
"Hi. You need to choke up your stance," Betty said brightly, not really sure of the protocol here.
"I'm pleased to..." Rexa blinked. "I do?"
"You do," her sister confirmed. "I've been telling you that for years, but you never listen."
"I really do?" Rexa looked back at Betty.
"Yes." Betty replied curtly, wondering when Krieghoff was going to get off her. One of his hands was on her bosom, and while she somewhat liked the proximity, the scrutiny of the Andorian women was a bit much. She gave him a practice scowl, just to see if it still worked.
It did. He still didn't move.
She must be losing it.
"Heinrich?" she smirked, just to see if he was paying attention.
"My middle name," he confessed under his breath. He closed his eyes. "She's right," Victor confirmed to his aunt, still waiting for the spoon to come out, all rusty and sharp and scoop out his liver.
"Oh." Rexa blinked. "Well."
"You look like a 'Heinrich.' All pasty and sort of confused..." Betty was murmuring.
Ar'resh looked up at the counter on the wall, one of the few unmarked items in the establishment. "You have twenty-one targets left, Rexa. Let's see what we can do if you take the Gunny's advice."
~ You're going to... I'll be left back here with... ~ Victor felt his face twitch and opened his eyes for a moment to look down at Betty. ~ I'm going to miss my liver. And the rest of my internal organs ~
Betty saw the wince cross his face and deepened her experimental scowl. He still was pressed to her body and had a hand on her bosom. It was nice, as far as gropes went. Accidental or not.
"Oh, and Heinrich?" Ar'resh continued, forcing him to tilt his head back and look up.
"Yes, Ar'resh?" he sighed.
"Be a dear and make sure the Gunny doesn't get accidentally hit, would you? You know how much that upsets Rexa."
"Yes, Ar'resh," he nodded dutifully.
"Yeah. You DO that Heinrich. Watch out for me and all. Because I NEED that," Betty added in a testy voice.
"He's such a dear boy," Ar'resh beamed down at Betty. "So thoughtful and sweet - but that Krieghoff sexual drive..."
Victor cringed again.
"...is a powerful thing. You're going to have to help him resist his impulses and save himself for that nice Ella Grey," Rexa explained.
"Yeah, I bet. Everyone on the ship remarks about those impulses of his," Betty replied, wriggling under him. "Especially... Ella Grey? Heinrich?" Betty smirked again.
There was a moment of silence.
The Andorian women withdrew their heads and a moment later the sound of a phaser firing sounded again.
"They've been matchmaking for me for years," Victor sighed after the shooting started, hoping that Betty would stop moving around for a better position and just kill him. "Every time I see them, they have someone new for me to meet."
"Cute story. My condolences to Grey or whoever they decide you end up with. You think you can get your hand off my tits, now Heinrich? Before I have to feed it back to you and all?" Betty demanded.
"Yeah, well," Victor continued, absently removing his hand from Betty's chest but still didn't make any other move towards releasing her. "The one for this trip didn't work out either, so they latched onto Grey as the new great hope once they realized she doesn't freak out when she gets near me."
"You're not THAT bad, for a Fleetie Nerp and all," Betty grudgingly admitted. "If you'd have joined the Corps, maybe you might have made a decent Marine. After a LOT of training though..."
"No," he admitted honestly. "I'd have been a bad Marine. I don't play well with others, and that's what the Corps is all about."
"True. But some Nerp wannabe like Corgan is less suited..." Betty was musing when a stray phaser bolt scorched the floor near Betty's feet, forcing her to draw them up behind the desk and cutting off her observations.
The motion shifted her weight again, and Victor shifted to support her without thinking about it. "Sorry, Gunny," he whispered, unable to keep from tensing in anticipation of the blow he believed to be coming.
Betty lay cradled in his arms and stared up at the cheap and flickering lighting panels in the ceiling.
"Snarking Sonva Sliteared....why do you keep calling me 'Gunny?'" she snapped, suddenly irritable and not sure why. At last he wasn't lying on top of her. "I have a name, it's Betty. Even a Fleetie should be able to remember that." she snapped.
"I know, Gunny."
"Short for Elizabeth," she snapped again.
"I know that too, Gunny."
"Oh, shut UP." she snapped, throwing an arm over his neck and dragging him down for a long and very soft, lingering kiss.
****
Victor froze, his mind blank, arms tightening around her in reflex as he struggled to comprehend what was happening. The feel of her in his arms made him suddenly aware of a terrible aching emptiness inside him, one that he'd trained himself to ignore. He shivered once in her arms, and then a long-buried need rose up inside him and he stopped trying to think and kissed her back, trying to fill the void inside him with the feel of her lips.
As for Betty, her longing for Major Log had suddenly found a home here.
Her blue eyes snapped open and studied him from a distance of about five centimeters.
With a grunt, and a casual disregard for the facts, she pushed him away and struggled to stand. "Dang it, get off me! Who do you think you are, mauling me!" she demanded, her face crimson.
Victor blinked, the walls inside him slamming back down. "Get down, Gunny - you're going to get hit."
"Save it for Grey, Heinrich! I made it this far through life without YOU watching over me, I'll make it further on my own too!" Betty fired back; stalking towards the two figures huddled over the phaser rifle.
The range was a mess. Holo targets sprang into view and whizzed through their arcs, but the Aunties had opened the rifle to 'see why' Rexa kept missing. The room's environmental computer, one of the first casualties of a random shot, was pumping a foul and fetid miasma into the room, already heated by several full power Phaser shots.
Conscious that Vic was most likely watching, Betty stripped her tunic off to the green sleeveless undertunic. A moment later, her pants hit the floor as well, leaving her in the skintight briefs, undertunic and boots.
The vain and 'girly' part of her brain noticed that the Andorian women's physiques, while admirable, still didn't have Betty's own... robustness in some areas.
Victor watched her undress, trying to figure out what just happened. ~ She... ~ He touched his lips and dropped his hand. ~ Nothing. Nothing happened. ~ Even he didn't believe the lie. His eyes followed her, watching as she moved across the range. ~ Why? Why did she...? Why *didn't* she...? ~ He sighed and merely watched her, feeling the ache inside him that he'd thought buried years before gnaw at him as he did. ~ Why? ~
"You, Auntie One, go and sit your ass down. You NEVER touch a focusing grid like that! Finger oils can ruin it," she snapped at Ar'resh. "Go help Heinrich and see if you can find the environmental controls, it's too hot in here to think." Betty commanded, pointing one finger.
Ar'resh blinked once, smiled and started for the business end of the range, obviously relieved to have someone else handling the training. "Right away, Gunny."
Betty eyed Rexa, who was cradling the phaser gingerly as she snapped the sighting array closed again. "And you! I said choke UP!" Betty guided the elbows to the correct position as she forced the rifle to the firing position.
"Oh." Rexa wiggled her arms. "That does feel better."
Betty glared at Vic, radiating her usual hatred of him again. "Some things feel better when you actually DO them," she growled in her 'business' voice.
Victor waited until Ar'resh was almost to him to look away from Betty, still confused by the ache that she'd awakened in him. "Environmental controls are over here," he pointed behind the weapons counter, leading the way there.
"Do you think your friend can really help Rexa?" Ar'resh whispered as they bent over them. "No one's ever managed to get her to do more than keep her fire within a 180 degree arc."
"If anyone I know could, it'd be the Gunny." Victor frowned at the controls, rubbing blast scorching away to see the readouts. "And she isn't my friend; she just talks to me, that's all." ~ But maybe not again after. that. ~
"Really, Heinrich, that didn't look like talking you two were doing behind the desk. You should be ashamed of yourself."
"There's not enough room back there for two people, Ar'resh. It was get close or get hit - that's all." He punched a few controls experimentally, but nothing happened.
"Now Heinrich, I understand all about your needs - heavens knows your Uncle Bernhard was the same way - but still..."
~ Okay, that's enough. ~ "Ar'resh," Victor turned, meeting her eyes. "Stop, please. Whatever you think you saw back there wasn't happening. I wasn't overcome by any urge to ravish her; I didn't drag her back there to relieve any needs. I promise."
Ar'resh just looked at him for a second, eyes wide. "Oh, dear one," she said after a moment, her expression softening as she reached up to touch his cheek. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. "We just..."
"I know, Ar'resh, I know. It's all right." He sighed and banged his fist on the controls, and was rewarded by the sound of an exhaust fan starting, the smoke in the range stirring in response. "There, that's fixed anyway." He turned back to see how Betty was doing with Rexa, hating himself for his silent wish that the fans took some time to clear the range.
"She is very fiery, your friend. She seems to have much pent up sexual energy," Ar'resh ventured.
Victor watched Betty as she guided Rexa through a slow turn with the phaser rifle, keeping her grip steady. "I don't keep up with her personal life, Ar'resh. I just talk with her over coffee sometimes. I'm sure she has one, though - probably with another Marine." ~ Why did she do that? I don't understand.. ~
"Are you sure?" Ar'resh studied the Marine NCO for a moment. "Has she ever mentioned anyone special to you?"
~ Like I'm going to *ask*? I'm still not sure why I'm still walking under my own power as it is. ~ "Everyone doesn't talk about things like that as easily as you do, Ar'resh."
"It's certainly healthier to," his aunt pointed out. "You really should try it some time. Maybe if you did, then you'd find speaking to Ella about your feelings for her easier."
"Grey and I are not an item, Ar'resh."
"That's just because you're afraid to admit the attraction exists. Maybe if you talked to your friend here? She might be able o give you some advice."
~ Oh God, I *would* be broken and bleeding on the floor if I tried that. ~ "I don't know if that's a good idea."
"Don't worry, dear one, I'll handle everything."
~ I wonder if I can piss the Captain off and get a transfer to Breen? It might be safer there. ~
On the floor of the range, the smoke now clear but the temperature still too warm, Rexa braced for another target. As the holotarget spun out, Victor wondered why he was watching his aunt's coach and not the shot.
****
"Have you known our Heinrich long?' Rexa asked, blowing a tendril of hair back out of her face.
"No. You have to watch the targets ma'am. And your elbows, you keep lifting them too high. Here," Betty chided, heaving out a long suffering breath as she reached around the Andorian Auntie to correct her grip.
"He's such a dear boy, so thoughtful. I understand that there are a number of people on the Galaxy that aren't bothered by that thing he does to people?" She paused to fire twice, Betty's hands stopping her from swinging off the range limits.
Betty refrained from jerking her hands away. One more micrometer and she'd have lost the tip of her right index finger to the muzzle discharge. "You mean annoy?" she asked, trying to keep her face deadpan.
"No, most people are scared of him." Rexa shook her head. "Silly, but that's what happens. Why our Heinrich wouldn't hurt a fly."
'Big old creampuff, that's what I think." Betty muttered, studying the Results indicator (one of the few remaining un-trashed instruments in the building)
"Exactly," Rexa smiled. "You seem to be one of the ones that isn't affected by him, do you know any of the others?"
"No. He seems to keep to himself. I don't know him at all." Betty admitted, feeling an uncharacteristic blush rise on her face.
"He's done that since he got out of the Academy," her student nodded, turning back to take aim again. "He always takes the late shifts, eats in his room, and stays out of everyone's way so he doesn't upset them. He's so considerate that way."
"Right. Considerate," Betty replied, thinking ~~ More like anti-social and creepy!~~
Rexa glanced back over her shoulder seconds before the target spun out. "How did you meet him? He doesn't know many people, and he's always so private, we never know when he's made a new friend."
"He rubbed me the wrong way. Eyes on the target Ma'am," Betty admitted grudgingly.
Then, she considered the Andorian woman.
"Not literally 'rubbed' Ma'am." Betty added, knowing in her gut where this conversation could go.
"Was it something the dear boy said?" Rexa asked as the target launched and she fired twice, missing by a narrower margin than before, but still enough that if she were one of Betty's Marines there'd be a year of remedial marksmanship training in her future. "Or something he did - or didn't do - to you?"
Betty did something she almost never did: she winced. "Not a thing pops to my mind... speaking of which, ma'am yours should be on the..." Betty began lamely.
The Andorian turned back to the range and fired again, frowning at the target as it slipped away unscathed. "Maybe you could talk to him, then? Give him a few pointers? It's been a year since that poor Bajoran girl broke up with him, and that's a very long time for a Krieghoff man to have to suppress his natural urges. Dangerous even, given the size of their... appetites."
More stray phaser shots winged lamely downrange after the fleeing target, all missing wildly.
Images of huge Indians danced through Betty's brain. "True. Some men are... more endowed than others." She grunted grudgingly.
"Especially Krieghoff men," Rexa sighed with a sad fondness. "I'm just worried that he's never going to find a nice girl to settle down without help, that's all. That nice young Ella Grey seems perfect for him, but we just can't get him to admit his attraction to her. Sometimes he can be so stubborn." She looked back again, completely missing the next target launch. "Have you noticed that?"
"Errrr.... you are aware that your score is cumulative Ma'am?" Betty asked, watching the target sail off unnoticed and unscathed.
"Oh yes," she sighed. "That means I'm graded on all these things that I miss." Rexa looked like she was honestly frustrated. "Frankly I don't understand why they make them so small - I've never shot at anyone that looked like a small dot zipping through the air in my life."
Betty thought of the Zalatrarians, and the fire-flitterfly problem she'd once faced there. During one of the more boring assignments, before the Dominion War, their targets had been the local fauna of a planet which had an affinity for sucking terran blood AND exploding on contact. Needless to say, a StarFleet Marine 'Advisory' team had gone in and had several weeks of target practice in the swamps, before the Vulcan Scientific Corps had developed a sterility guarantee for the flitter-flies.
"Yeah. I kind of guessed that." was all Betty grunted, switching the selector to 'Non Regulation Target.'
Another target, this one shaped vaguely the size of a Terranoid being, spun out and Rexa fired off another spread of shots, missing the target wildly but hosing the wall behind. "Drat!" she sighed. "I would have gotten that one if he were taller."
"Yes Ma'am. Maybe if you try the next with your eyes open?" Betty said, bumping the selector up to "Maximum size" and internalizing a sigh.
"Tell me," Rexa asked, looking back over her other shoulder this time, eyes serious. "Is it really as bad as we think it is for him? He never admits to it, but we've talked to others and they all say it's... well...." She searched Betty's face. "Is it?"
"Him who? Eyes open Ma'am." Betty asked, watching the Edoan sized mass of holoenergies float across the range without a shot being fired at it.
"Our darling little Heinriech." Rexa insisted, frowning and loosing a flurry of shots at the disappearing target, missing every time.
"Leading a life of quiet desperation." Betty paraphrased, fussing with the range targeting controls to hide the blush spreading across her face.
"I was afraid of that," Rexa sighed. "I asked Johnny about it when we saw him earlier, and he said he thought it wasn't good." She sighed unhappily. "He knows about Heinrich of course. He told us a few days ago that he'd tried as a favor to us, but that he just hadn't been able to think of a way to help our Heinrich out other than to transfer him to the Galaxy where he could look after him."
"Who.. Johnny? Wh is....noooo....Whoah! Fleet Captain John Q BHRODE said THAT?" Betty looked up from the LCARS with a frown. "Where do you know HIM from?"
"He was the Venture's XO for a long time before he was promoted to Captain," the Andorian explained. "He's really a sweetie once you get to know him." She smiled brightly. "Have you served with him before the Galaxy?"
"I knew him a while back. Good officer. Hardass but good." Betty admitted, pushing thoughts of the doomed USS Odyssey out of her head. "Try this one. feet further apart and lean your hips back. Ma'am." Betty directed, feeling the sweat run down her body in its abbreviated outfit.
"Okay," Rexa agreed dubiously. "But this feels silly." She leaned back slightly, turned to say something else, and jumped as the target appeared right in front of her, her hand tightening on the trigger reflexively. "Eek!"
The salvo of phaser shots impacted dead in the middle of the enormous blob of energy, which was vaguely like Victor's face, if you squinted. Assuming Vic's face was blown up to Targoth size with a red bull's-eye in the middle of it. It drifted across the range at a pace slightly faster than a terran snail's.
"Did I hit it?" she asked, leaning forward excitedly. "It has little holes in it... does that mean I hit it?"
"Looks like you qualify this year again. Ma'am. Congrats." Betty said, wrenching the rifle from Rexa's hands as the Andorian woman beamed. Betty tossed the rifle to a bemused Victor.
~ Well, that wasn't so bad. ~ Victor looked around the room as Ar'resh darted forward to join in Rexa's victory dance, unable to avoid glimpses of Betty in her currently not-very clothed state in the reflective surfaces still intact. ~ The walls are still standing... and so is the roof. Why did she kiss me? ~ He blinked. ~ Stop it. Just let it go. Battle fatigue... combat stress... whatever, just... forget it. ~
"My beyoootiful range! The credits I will have to spend to rebuild!" the Ferengi was moaning from the doorway.
"Beeyotiful schmmotiful! We shoot for free! We had a deal. Pay up." Betty insisted, gathering her uniform from the floor.
"WHAT?" the Ferengi screamed. "Deal? what deal! LOOK at my trophy case! Forget her, -You're- going to bankrupt me!"
"Oh pish," Ar'resh interrupted her dance with Rexa to comment. "You're exaggerating and you know it."
"Exaggerating?! How could I exaggerate with my business in ruins? " the owner shrieked, his eyes bugging out. "Look at the walls, the floor, my equipment! All ruined! And now she," he pointed to Betty, "wants to shoot for... for... for f..f..f.f..f.f.f.ffffffff...free? Aiiiieeee!" He threw his hands up in the air.
"We had a deal." Betty paused, one leg in her pants, eyes narrowed in speculation (no doubt 'How many pieces can I break a Ferengi into?')
Victor shook his head and turned to put the rifle down on the counter, blanking out the Ferengi's screams. ~ He'll have better luck outrunning a charging tarrgoth than getting the Gunny to back out of their deal. Huh... what's that?" he leaned closer, looking at the wall, where a panel had been shattered by one of Rexa's last shots. ~ Isn't that a... ~ An unpleasant smile spread across his face.
****
"No, no, no, no! No free shooting today! Or ever! The range is closed for repairs! I am soo sorry but you'll have to come back another day! And pay...perhaps if you managed to save some coupons I could see myself to offering a slight discount...very slight, of course, since my rates will go up..." the Ferengi was gloating when there was a splintering sound behind Betty and his eyes went wide. "No! Don't open that! I... I was told never to open that by the... previous owner... yes, the previous owner."
"Gunny," Victor called out, waiting for Betty to turn before tossing her a long, slim, and lethal energy rifle from the small storage area nestled between the wall-mounted power units for the reinforcing shields on the walls. "Isn't this one of those Romulan Special Forces issue sniper rifles? The new restricted model that came out after the War?"
Betty eyed the lethal looking weapon with an arched eyebrow, and dropped her jacket to the floor. "A Romulan rifle on a Klingon planet? One that is banned in Federation and Imperial space?" she mused.
"It is?" The owner's sweaty face was utterly unconvincing. "But... I... I'm outraged that he left such a dangerous weapon here! He must have been trying to frame me for his... whatever crimes he committed! A frame I tell you! Never trust a Pakled!"
"Yes, clearly a frame up. Perhaps we should let the Imperial Intelligence Corps look into..." Betty was saying, over the blubbering.
"KIIC? Noooooooo...they'll Torture me! They will twist my lobes! Clothe my women! Take my Latinum! Audit my accounts! NOT THE AUDIT! PLEAAAAsssseeeeeeee?" The Ferengi moaned.
"Of course," Victor offered calmly, "if the Gunny and her crew were busy shooting, she might not have time to make any calls..."
"Calls? Shooting? Yes, no calls! Shooting is good," Talloth babbled. "Shooting is very good - unless it's at me." he turned to Betty. "Shooting?" he asked hopefully. "When do you want to start shooting - at the targets," he amended. "Soon? Now? You and your friends?"
"For free." Betty's voice left no room for quibbling.
"Hmmmm..." mused the Ferengi, looking for an escape (and a profit!)
"Hey Dahlquist, you and East have that communicator? Open a line to the Federation Embassy and have them call the Imperial..." Betty began.
"FORFREE" screamed the Ferengi, before passing out in a fake faint.
Seeing things were more-or-less under control, Victor returned to his examination of the small storage area, removing weapon after weapon and setting them on the floor behind the counter. ~ Two Romulan disruptor pistols, a Bajoran phaser rifle, a Silasian scorcher, three Cardassian holdout disruptors, and... hmmm... what's this? ~ He looked over his shoulder at the Ferengi, frowned, and turned back. ~ He definitely doesn't need this either. ~ There was a soft hum as something powered down, a 'pop,' and he removed a series of isolinear chips in a small chipcase from the compartment, a pair of connector leads dangling from the case.
~ Let's see... ~ He sorted through the chips, removed one and pocketed it, and set the rest down on the stack of illegal weapons. ~ I think that does it. ~ "Gunny," he said just loudly enough to carry to Betty, and pointed to the rifle.
Betty eyed the illegal rifles and her Marines, all of whom were jostling for space at the one remaining shooting station. ~~He's not so bad...~~ she mused, eying Victor.
The Ferengi recovered enough to wave a small piece of printout at Betty.
"About the Andorian Ladies bill...." he smirked.
Ar'resh, having seen what Victor was doing, moved up and entered the conversation with Talloth, arguing over Rexa's bill as her taller sister glared at the Ferengi harder with every surcharge he tried to add, allowing Betty to move away. "What do you mean," the Andorian repeated loudly, "you're charging us per shot? That wasn't in the original agreement!"
The Ferengi opened one eye from his huddle on the floor, bill still extended.
"What? You're still here? Neither was the destruction of my shop! She should hire herself out as a demolition team! I'm ruined - I have to recoup my losses somehow. I have children to feed!" His eyes tracked Betty and the Romulan rifle until he couldn't watch them without turning away from Ar'resh and Rexa. Conflicting greeds warred on his face for a second, then he surrendered and concentrated on the bargaining that was in front of him, doubling his last stated fee 'to provide for my twenty children.'
"East, help the Ner....Lieutenant Kreighoff... with these guns." Betty murmured.
"Awwww. Gunny! I was gonna put an implant in my eye, to help me with..." East began his complaint with.
"Belay that crapola. Who'd want an eye implant?" Betty demanded.
"It looks cool." East mumbled.
"Idiots. Why do I always get the idiots?" demanded Betty, of the Universe at large.
"Dahlquist isn't THAT bad." Corporal East grunted, under the armful of illegal weapons.
"East! You look like the Neo-Colonial Survivalist Poster Boy!" Betty snapped. "Get those things aboard GALAXY and locked down before the Old Man blows a gasket!"
Betty turned back to a bemused looking Victor Krieghoff. She followed his eyes... back to her chest.
"You might want to get that looked at," he said quietly, indicating a phaser scorch that ran underneath her left breast, the shirt having dissolved in a thin line along the beam's apparent path and the skin underneath turning red. ~ Why did she kiss me? ~
"You seem to be doing enough looking for ten," she snapped.
Victor looked like he was going to say something in response, but didn't. Instead, he extended his hand to her, an isolinear chip visible in it. "You'll want this, Gunny."
"I will?" Betty sneered. "If you think that some lame ass gift is going to make me forget that you're talking to my boobs..." she began.
"He records everything in the shop," Victor explained, nodding towards the Ferengi. "Probably sells copies of people practicing to their enemies looking to see how they train and how good they are." He nodded to the chip. "That's the one that covers everything that's happened since Rexa and Ar'resh moved up to the range." He looked upwards, directing her attention to a series of sensor inputs in the ceiling. "He gets a good view from up there," he added softly. "Covers all the counters and the range. Didn't think you'd want him to have a copy of you... out on the range like that."
Betty closed her hand over the chip, her stomach quivering and fluttering. "Take a picture, it lasts longer," she snapped, blushing under his gaze.
Victor looked at her for a moment, aware that the silence was making her more uncomfortable, but uncertain of how to break it. Finally he nodded once to her and continued as if she'd not spoken. "I checked, he doesn't look like he was smart enough to have the system make backups automatically - that's the only copy there is. I did leave the power links open, so if someone... accidentally... shot one of the receptor clusters, the overload should blow out the whole system and cascade through anything linked to it... in case I missed something."
Betty blinked, suddenly aware she was close enough to Vic to smell his aftershave. Her usually steely stomach was roiling and she felt embarrassingly warm all over. "whaaaaa...?" she asked, kicking herself for losing her usual silver-tongued ability with words.
"The rifles?" he prompted
"Right. Good job Hein...errr... Krieghoff," she said.
Victor looked at her oddly for a moment, then said, "Thank you."
"You're the officer," she snapped with an edge. "Do not be thanking me for anything! I just do my job!"
"Not your job - for taking the time to help Rexa like that. Most people wouldn't have. I appreciate you taking the time to do that."
"Oh." Betty eyed him for a long moment as she shrugged her jacket back on. "My pleasure," she mumbled before turning to her raucously shouting mob of Marines. "DAHLQUIST! You goatlicking sonnava seacook! Get your disruptor OUT of St. John's ear!" she barked, back on familiar ground.
Victor watched her shape the Marines into an organized line of shooters with herself at the range controls, and then moved to where the Rexa and Ar'resh had the Ferengi backed into a corner. Each of his aunts had a one of his lobes in their hand, and were twisting just enough to keep the shop owner on his toes and yelping. ~ I think I need to get them out of here before he falls in love or something. ~ The thought of being related to the Ferengi drew a shudder from him as he started across the floor.
Behind him, one of the first shots fired by Dahlquist scored a direct hit on the sensor receptor cluster he'd pointed out in the ceiling, causing several consoles to blow out in a spray of sparks, and drawing a cry from the Ferengi. ~ I bet this guy never rents space to an Andorian again. ~
In security, a hailstorm of activity was set loose.
“Team Foxtrot, are you at the transporter room yet?” James barked to his comm.-badge, “NO? Then what the hell are you doing? You’re going there? Of f**king course you’re going there! Dammit, run if you have to! Put those goddamn marine exercises to good use and boot your ass over there! Over and f**king out! Team Epsilon?!?! You there yet? GOOD! About time someone made it. Keep me posted. Over and f**king out! Team Gamma, Epsilon! Status!………. ok…….. that damn shuttle isn’t in yet? God! What’s taking so f**king long?!?! Are they having an asylum reading in there?!?! Oh… they are? DON’T BE SARCASTIC! Keep an eye on things! Over and f**king out!”
Wiping the sweat off his brow, James Corgan breathed a sigh of relief. Though he couldn’t drop his tough leader image just yet, he was proud of what his department was doing. When not in an emergency, the still young department was slapdash, with a few alliances, but no co-hesiveness. Now that there was something to do, everyone was chipping together for the emergency.
One dinky little shuttle was an emergency? Though most may not believe it, except for the occasional evil sentient starship, special phenomenon and bad alien race bent on xenophobia, there was not much to do as a security officer but train and wait for something to happen. And by god, something was happening, and it was sending the department in a tailspin of activity.
~”Good work, boys and girls. I’m proud of you all.”~ James smiled when nobody was looking, watching the activity unfolding. Officers were spilled over the finally fixed security monitoring system, running around to the armory, readying weapons and apprehension gear, and preparing for combat. Though a bit excessive, James prided himself in being cautious, and tried to instill that work ethic into his department.
The department was ready and able to strike out on their own if needed. Whatever the emergency, they were ready.
“God dammit! What does it take to get a f**king report around here!” Commander Corgan boomed, stirring up the crowd whom for a second was starting to bring in a calm before the storm of activities started anew, “I want to know what that shuttle is and who’s on board, and I wanted to know minutes ago! Now where is it?!?!”
Lieutenant T’lan tossed a PADD into Corgan’s direction. He caught it, luckily catching sight of the object in an area that wasn’t his blind spot. She said while James activated the device, “Sir, the shuttle we have encountered is the…. how should I say this eloquently…. the ‘Mud Hen’.”
Blankly, James stared into T’lan’s eyes, disputing the truth, “Really? Now why the f**k would anyone use that name for a shuttle?”
“Perhaps we can ask the owner once we bring that shuttle into our shuttlebay.” T’lan stated.
Momentarily thinking, James replied, “Good thinking. Any idea who owns it, or what the f**k they are doing out here so close to the goddamn triangle?”
[NRPG: Note, the ‘Triangle’ is a section of space bordered by the Romulan, Klingon and Federation superpowers. It is also Orion territory. Source: “Star Trek: Starship Tactical Combat Simulator”].
“Unknown, sir. Perhaps we can ask them.” T’lan answered.
“You have a knack for stating the obvious, Lieutenant.” James flipped through the report pages. “Carry on. I want whoever the hell is in that shuttle to be escorted to wherever the captain wants him. Guest quarters, the bridge, the brig… I don’t give a f**k. Just as long as we find out what the hell this person is doing here.”
“Aye, sir.” T’lan saluted, turned, then walked away to her station. But before she reached it, she turned around again to address her superior officer, “Sir, you may be interested in this particular person. Read the report further on the ship’s owner.”
“Ok… that I will.” James sighed. From T’lan’s announcement, he expected to encounter yet another smuggler or intergalactic small time criminal (the big criminals usually travel on larger, more grandiose vessels). Nothing to get an entire security department all riled up, but enough to put someone in the brig and make Corgan’s day a more fulfilling one. Catching his first smuggler as a chief of security. James almost looked forward to it.
What he didn’t know was that the file photo, staring almost bemusing back at him, was no ordinary smuggler.
“What… the… f**k?” James dropped his jaw.
The photo staring back at him was the most famous small time criminal in the galaxy, perhaps in the entire universe and the other alternate realities. The very utterance of this criminal brought on annoyance, pain, grief, headaches, and exasperation. His name was like a locust in the business and criminal world, spreading misfortune and shenanigans wherever he went. This particular man was a legend in his own right. Not for his success, and sometimes not for his failures, but for his examples of murphy’s law.
James was staring at the file of Harcourt “Harry” Fenton Mudd.
“T’lan, are you sure about this?” James asked.
“Affirmative, sir. This ship is registered to Harry Mudd, sir.” T’lan replied.
The chief of security looked at the file, then at T’lan. She wasn’t known or lying or for pranks. However, he did notice odd behavior in the Vulcan lately which brought on doubt. “This better be a prank, T’lan. According to this file, this sorry sack of sh*t should be a worm farm by now.”
T’lan replied, “Logic dictates that this particular human should be dead due to the average lifespan of a Terran. However, there may be other factors that we do not know about.”
“Well… he looks pretty alive, much less young, for a person of one hundred and forty seven. Keep me posted. I want to meet this man myself.”
There was a bit of celebrity awe in James’ voice. What security officer hasn’t heard of the legendary Harry Mudd. The children’s game ‘cops and robbers’ was changed to ‘Kirk’s and Mudd’s’ thanks to the two famous people’s exploits. Security officers were bombarded with simulations and case studies of Harry Mudd’s famous cons, and asked what to do when confronted with the famous criminal. The old rogue had a rap sheet as long as Corgan’s arm, and not because it was a famous cliché. It was literally as long as Corgan’s arm, maybe even longer! It had every small time crime listed, from forgering safety logs on his starships, to theft, smuggling, counterfeiting, drug and human trafficking, and even trying to sell defective servitor robots to orphanages!
Not only was he scum, but he was the lowest of petty, lowlife, criminal scum. No wonder his last name was Mudd.
“Sh*t on me… why do I get the interesting cases?” James sighed hopelessly. Harry Mudd didn’t live for over one hundred forty years by having the serious case of the stupids. Though a bumbling fool, Harry Mudd was also a man not to be trifled with.
Though granted, the fantasy of having the most famous petty criminal in his jail cell was also a strong, tempting one. ~”Imagine… me, being the one who brought Harry Mudd to jail. Oh, who am I kidding? Brhode would take the credit. I’d just be the one slapping on the restraints and booting him into the brig. I didn’t really catch him, just led him to the slammer. But still… to be part of history… I can’t say I’m not tempted.”~
A smile beamed on his face, “Guess what folks! Today we may get to arrest Harry Mudd!”
Everyone stopped. Literally, everyone. Security was as quiet as a ghost town without a tumbleweed.
“Sir… are you nuts?” One ensign called out.
“Mudd has been dead for years!” Another called.
“I heard he got sucked into a black hole and catapulted into another dimension!” Said another.
“Well I heard he died of the Denebian testicular rot plague!”
”I heard he’s a Naussican’s b*tch puppet in some Romulan prison!”
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” James screamed, silencing the naysayers, showing the PADD for all to see, “Says here he’s alive, and he’s right in front of us. Unless Brhode in his infinite wisdom decides to let the guy loose, we’re going to have a very famous occupant in our brig. Now get your heads out of your asses and start getting busy!”
“SIR!” All the officers cheered, getting back to work with a little more than a smile on their face. Appearantly, catching Harry Mudd was also a fantasy of theirs shared in common with their superior officer.
As everyone was dreaming of getting a piece of Mudd, T’lan approached James again. “Sir, we have an incoming threat. Orion blockade runners have come to intercept the shuttle.”
”You’re serious, right?” James questioned. ~”Now how did I know something like this was going to happen? F**k murphy’s law. He was an optimist.”~
“I am a Vulcan. I am always serious. These ships claim that we are in Orion Territory.”
James took one second to process the oncoming sh*tstorm. “Great, so what you are saying is that we are in the middle of the Triangle, and we have a couple of ships waiting to turn us into scrap metal?”
”Correct sir, though I are not in the middle of the Triangle. We are approximately 1.3452124 lightyears inside the Triangle.”
He sighed hopelessly again, “Great. Always knew Brhode would be the death of me. Well… no sense in calling battlestations. We’re already there. Just wait and see what happens…”
A deck shattering explosion rattled the lower decks of the ships, tossing security officers into the walls, to the floors, and into their equipment. A second shot was more jarring than the first, throwing people about and sending sparks showering from the ceiling. A nearby console blew out all its fuses, showering splintered duraplastics in hot, shrapnel slivers and molten, rocklike chunks. James felt the tiny hot pokers of metal and plastic peck his uniform. Standing up and brushing himself off, he was about to give an order… until another volley of phaser fire threw the ship around like a punch drunk boxer.
“What the hell? Those didn’t feel like shield hits!” James brushed himself off, “T’lan! What the f**k is going on out there!”
T’lan’s fingers raked the security monitoring console, as dozens of screens flashed damaged corridors and milling people making repairs, “Sir, according to internal scanners, we have hull breaches on decks 28, 14 and 12. Due to the speculated output of Orion weapons and the output of our shields, I can only logically assume that shields are not functional!”
Another shot ripped into the ship, sending an explosive burst through a console, blasting apart and catching an unsuspecting security officer in the face. A kid in his early 20’s staggered on the floor, the blood oozing across his face.
“Security to sickbay! Medical Emergency! We are requesting a medical team to the security office right away! We have a seriously injured crewman here!” Corgan desperately barked into his badge, then to the staff, “Jesus Christ! If the shields are down, then…”
”Sir…” T’lan spoke up, as red blips appeared on floor plan monitors all over the ship, “We have another emergency. Orion boarding parties have been reported all over the ship. Security and marine detachments report firefights on decks 11, 5, 8, 16 and 24. They are not targeting vital systems, but cargo bays and research facilities. Marines report an attack on their main armory.”
The coming storm was too much. James was feeling angry, not for the young kid that was injured, but for the incursion on his territory. His territory, the ship he vowed to defend with his life. There was no way the shields should have gone down, and now it was his department’s responsibility to shore up the defenses while shields were inoperable.
“Nobody steps on my turf without my permission and gets away with it. Pack some heat people! We’re going to kick some ass!”
TBC….
Note, the shields are down. Naturally, the Orions will want to board the ship and cause all sorts of trouble.
Also, the Orions are used to pillaging, looting, and all that fun stuff. So, you may not find them in vital systems. That will be rare, and reserved for smart Orions. As for the rest, they’ll be hitting quarters, armories, storage bays and cargo bays for anything they can loot from us. From phaser rifles to PADDs, they’ll get their greasy paws on them.
This is the security department’s responsibility while the attack is on. Stop the Orions! Kill and arrest as many as you want until the attack is over! And make sure they don’t get to loot anything!
OOC: This conversation takes place one night before the current story, as well as one night before the conversation between Curran and Mol, and one night after his date with Ella Grey.
"Irene, I'm sorry. I just can't agree with what you're saying. Kylar Curran is not the kind of ally that we need." Casius Henderson said, watching Fleet Admiral Irene deMercereau, the Director of Starfleet Tactical Analysis' reaction.
Irene deMercereau nodded. She was her immaculate self, youthful and wintery, forever changed by her experiences in the fleet proper. But behind her outward appearance, Cass could tell that the situation in the counsel was wearing on her heavily, as was the late hour to which she had been working. He'd been about to climb into bed for the night when she had called.
"I can understand your hesistance to work with the Liaison Corps. I know you had friends in the Border Patrol that lost their jobs when the reorganization took effect, and that you don't approve of the establishment of watchdogs outside the chain of command, but..." Irene paused, and took a sip of her tea.
"He's Kelvan, Irene. And I'm told that he was responsible for the shooting of the last tactical officer's wife," Henderson said, and the way he said it seemed to unsettle his superior. Adding in the dim lighting in his room, it was not what she had expected, "Admittedly, there were circumstances, but I just don't think he's stable."
"Yes, well, stable not, Ambassador-General Mol believes that he's the one for the job. That's why she assigned him to the USS Galaxy in the first place," Admiral deMercereau replied, "And Natasha Mol and I have known each other for many, many years." That having been said, she stood up to deal with something outside the viewer.
"I understand, Irene." Cass said, finally, when she had sat down, PADD in hand, "I'll meet with him as you and Ambassador-General Mol suggest." He wouldn't like it, but nobody said he had to. He was a military officer, and knew his duty, even when he didn't understand why.
Yet, at the same time, he was not a 'Hawk', as one might have suspected. Irene had known from the moment she had selected him, several years previously, that he was too idealistic for the 'Hawk' movement. That was what she was looking for, somebody who would fight, but was also devoted the Starfleet's true charter, to defend and explore.
And that made him a 'Dove', like her. She knew that Starfleet was of two minds, her own, and that of Admiral Hoth. One supported a return to their charter and peaceful negotiations before the use of force, the other, a more militant approach to life. It was more political than any of them had ever thought it would be, back when they had joined the fleet.
"Of course you will, Cass. When have I ever known you not to follow through. By the way, you may have an interesting time swallowing this, but I need Dan Livadhi elsewhere." she said, referring to his Assistant Chief Tactical Officer.
"The USS Glory? Rear Admiral Schezar's ship?" he asked, having read the transfer orders the previous day. It had surprised him. A former Intelligence operative like Livadhi being summoned to the USS Glory could only mean a return to his former career, as Admiral Schezar was well know as a large player in the intelligence field, though she had long ago given command of SFI itself to Commodore Illyanovitch.
"Yes. I know what you're thinking, and I also remember your private issues with Commodore Illyanovitch." she said, referring to his time as an SFI agent, terminated at the order of the director of SFI. "But no, Dan is being pulled for other reasons."
Cass considered it for a second. Irene was baiting him, as she sometimes did. He sighed and gave in, as he knew he always would. It was the way of things. "So I'll ask the million latinum question. What reasons?"
"I thought you'd never ask. Have you ever met Rima Pennington?" she asked him, and judging by his arched eyebrow and questioning expression, he never had.
"Actually, yes, I have. The girl who dumped paint on the class of 2375?" he said, surprising deMercereau. Then he saw where she was going with this line of inquiry, "Oh, no. You wouldn't. You can't."
"I can and I will. She's your responsibility, now," Irene said, "It will do you some good. She'll probably make you think, Cassius. Rima Pennington is the way she is because she was forced into this. But, she is an astonishingly good tactician. Maybe not as good as you. Lord knows that Saturn Station isn't up to par with us or Wolf-359, but she has ability. If you can reign in her personality, you'd make a good team."
Cassius yet again resigned himself to his job... Not only had he been saddled with one raging personality, but two! Irene had outmaneuvered him more successfully than usual. "Bloody hell, Irene. I should know better than to talk to you this late at night."
deMercereau laughed, "Ah, but you have to. There are benefits to being a senior officer. If you didn't answer my calls, you'd be a crewman recruit by tommorrow morning." Cassius laughed along with her, at the same time deciding that he could see a strange dichotomy in Irene. At times she was a serious, devoted warrior, at others she was an advocate for peace and exploration, and in these rare moments, she was also a friend, a woman forever young.
"Oh well. My curse, you know. So, how long till Ms. Pennington arrives." he asked his superior, who chuckled.
"Ever the serious one, eh. Well, she migth actually be onboard already, but truthfully, I'd say that you have a day or so before she arrives. I timed it that way, so you could have some rest time before she shows up. Go easy on her, Cass. She'll learn." Irene said to him, and he nodded.
"Okay. I'll do as you ask. Now then, was there anything else, or did you just call to see me without a shirt on?" Henderspm chuckled, leaning back in his chair.
"You're incorrigable, you know that. Now then, no...... Oh, well, one thing. The USS Pallas Athena has been dispatched to the Romulan border. That's Admiral Valerian's flagship, and he's a big fan of Jurgen Hoth. Naturally, I trust neither. Just thought you might like to know." she said, "Now then, go get your beauty sleep. You have full days ahead of you."
"Good night, Irene."
"Good night, Lieutenant." she replied, then switched off her monitor. Cassius did the same, then stood up, stretching into a yawn.
"Good greif, Irene." he said, aloud, then swung up into his bunk, lofted over his desk for minimal space consumption, and fell fast asleep, wondering what the future held.
NRPG: I'll get out a post about the fight ASAP, probably tonight.
The Sudden shudder quickly awoke the napping Klaus. The Second caused him to accidentally toss his bass across the room. He was instantly awake at this point and grabbed his uniform shirt and Commbadge. After hooking it on his uniform he heard the all too familiar condition red klaxon and "Intruder Alert." He tapped it and asked, "Are there wounded?"
Sounding over it, "We know of one on deck 38, but there's firefights all over the ship, so we're a little uninformed."
"Ok, I'm on my way."
Suddenly Corgan's voice sounded over his commbadge. “Security to sickbay! Medical Emergency! We are requesting a medical team to the security office right away! We have a seriously injured crewman here!”
"Did you get that sickbay?"
"Yea, we are sending people now."
"Bestätigt(Acknowledged). On my way."
"Thats a negative, we need you here."
"Bestätigt."
Klaus walked out of his quarters quickly reciting,"Computer, Lock quarters, voice recognition only," then headed straight for the nearest turbolift.
Once on deck 12, Klaus' fast walked became a steady run as he made his way to the job he does best. Saving lives.
A red collered crewman lay in the hall. Klaus ran up to him and felt for a pulse, when he got one he tapped his combadge.
"Sickbay, I've found an injured crewman, send someone down to my location, Schnell!"
Featuring unauthorized use of Captain Bhrode and a quick mention and line of dialog from Lt. Cassius Henderson.
***
"Shields STILL not functioning Captain!" Curtis shouted from his console. The sparks were flying, chunks of ceiling were smashing to the ground, and the Quick bug had decided now would be a good time for a visit. "Hull integrity at 60 percent and falling!"
"Mister Geluf! I don't care if you have to divert power from the damned LIFE SUPPORT! GET MY SHIELDS UP!" came Bhrode's reply.
"Yes sir!" Curtis yelled back, frantically trying to outsmart the virus that had infected the ships defenses.
Blast after blast slammed into the hull as the bridge crew moved frantically from station to station, attempting to compensate for the Quick bug.
"We've lost weapons Captain!" came the voice of Lt. Henderson at Tactical.
"I'm working on it!" Curtis shouted.
"Screw the weapons Lieutenant! Get my shields up!" Bhrode contributed.
Then, as if things couldn't have been any worse, an alarm sounded on Curtis' console.
"Unauthorized transport in progress! Intruder alert, all decks! We've been boarded!" Curtis shouted.
He had failed to defend the ship...it was all up to security now.
[OOC: Takes place at the same time as "Dead in Space".]
Jeremy watched and listened to the peculiar exchange between Bhrode and the odd man on the viewscreen. It was the best entertainment he'd seen in weeks.
Suddenly, with the rest of bridge crew, the helmsman stiffened warily when the whiney older guy's visage was replaced with that of a green-skinned Orion. "You are in Orion space. Leave now, or suffer." the alien had said. Jeremy knew there was going to be a fight.
Moments later, the bridge was bathed in the throbbing red glow of battle stations. Things only went from bad to worse when Jeremy heard Klingon opera in reponse to Bhrode's order for shields and weapons.
Then the words that said far more than the sum total of their definitions: "GODDAMN QUICK AND HIS GODDAMN VIRUS!"
As the ship rocked in defenseless response to the Orion phaser fire, Savoie was aware of only two things: the sound of Bhrode's voice and getting the Galaxy out of harms' way.
"HELM! EVASIVE MANEAUVERS ASAP!!" From there, Jeremy focused only on executing the order as all hell seemed to break loose on the bridge.
His fingers flying over his console as if it were covered with hot coals, Savoie feverishly tried to get the lumbering ship out of harm's way. "Warp engines are off line, sir!" he shouted over the din of phaser impact, alert klaxons sounding, and orders being yelled. For a little while, he was able to move a little under impulse . . . but not far enough. Suddenly, another blast struck somewhere as the whole ship rocked in response. To Jeremy's dismay, he was no longer able to get the ship to move anywhere, just as the barrage seemed to increase in frequency and strength.
"Shield STILL not functioning Captain!" he heard Geluf shout out.
"Mister Geluf! I don't care if you have to diver power from the damned LIFE SUPPORT! GET MY SHIELDS UP!" Bhrode thundered.
More reports came in. Shields were still down. Weapons were out. And then an intruder alert alarm . . . .
~Shit," Savoie thought in frustration as none of his efforts to budge the ship even an inch had any effect. The old man wasn't going to like what he would hear next.
"He can take the power from navigation . . . helm control is completely dead, sir," Jeremy informed as he turned his chair around to face the Captain.
Listening as her chief threw a spac-attack over the security comm channel, Brightspot led her team through the ship. Arriving at Deck 11, she stopped suddenly when she heard a transporter sound.
Using her paws, she directed the team into position. Seconds later, Orions came round the corner and the security opened fire.
Ducking behind cover, she fired a few times before sighing.
"Screw this!! Charge!!!"
Racing out blasting and roaring, she sprinted the short distance and started smashing her weapon into Orion faces while her team followed. Dropping the weapon, she slashed with her claws as she cut down orions.
While the ship shook, the the two El-Aurians dove to catch various objects that were fallen to the floor. After securing an antique vase with her foot, Zerhi walked over to Adrian, who had laid what he had saved on the floor and looked out the transparasteel window in thought.
"I do believe Hell has broken loose Zerhi."
"That's no surprise Adrian," She replied nochalantly as they peered outside together. "Hell often breaks loose on this ship."
"Yes. I believe this ship has a magnetism fo that sort of thing..."
"Which means it can't help what it's doing."
"Exactly."
"I take it you locked the door and have the usual weapons ready in case of an intrusion?"
"All hand-held weapons ready at our disposal my Dear."
"Good. Though I would hate to get this carpet dirty... more dirty than it already is."
"I'll have it cleaned when I get off my next shift Zerhi."
"Good."
"Do you think this will wake Maxim?"
They looked at one another and paused.
"Nah!"
They returned to the couch, keeping a mindful watch on the door for any signs of a break-in.
It had been a minute or so before a medical officer had come to aid Klaus and his fallen patient. Accompanying him was a Security officer. The nurse immediately crouched down to check the crewman.
"What happened to him."
"I haven't been able to scan him, forgot my equipment in sickbay yesterday. Most likely a concussion."
"Well here it is."
The case that the nurse was carrying indeed belonged to Klaus.
Klaus hadn't moved the crewman the whole time due to not knowing his injurys. Now that he could scan him, the kid would be in sickbay very soon. "Major concussion, internal injurys, nothing serious. No Internal bleeding. Come on, help me out."
The nurse assisted Klaus in lifting the kid up, didn't want to injure him further. The Young Security officer held his rifle tight, as nervous as a whore in church.
Thankfully sickbay was not very far from where they were.
Once inside, the medical staff was already frantic, doing what they do best. Right now all the injurys were concussions and other injurys that left crewmembers unable to perform their dutys. Broken bones, concussions and the like. The Worst was yet to come. Despite the efficiency of the security department aboard the Galaxy, there would be casualtys.
The Grim truth is, that Klaus was already ready for for the true Chaos that the Medical Department would see.
Brianna was working feverishly as she finished stabilizing the warp core, she then moved over and started on the shields. "What's the status?" She asked as she moved beside a lieutenant who was starting to look a little pinked."Take a break, you don't look so good! I don't want you breaking down on me." Anna said as she looked at the readings on the shields. "We're gonna have to re-start the shield generators, stand by for cold restart!" Brianna said as she ran to the central command table.
"Engineering to bridge, you'll have shields in five seconds..." Brianna said, ~God willing.~ She then thought to herself. "Ella! shut the generators down and reroute to grid nine and ten, punch it up when it reaches 60, we can't wait for the 80 recommendation." Anna said as she give her assistant a nod.
"Alright, forty.... forty five.... fifty.... fifty five..... sixty! Mark!" Brianna said as she saw Ella punch the button.
Brianna moved over to the MSD and looked at power, "Sir, Shields are coming online... but we don't have enough power to feed them."
"The hell we don't." Brianna said turning and tapping into the wrap core, something she learned from the Militia friend of hers. Looking at the power on the shields it rose like a blood pressure on a fat man, "Bridge, you've got shields... I'm working on weapons and propulsion... stand by!" Brianna said as she looked at Ella.
"Lets rock and rock people, lets show then what we can do under pressure!" Brianna said, moving over toward the 'pool table'.
"Warp shuttle Ingram arriving." the voice of the shuttlebay chief blared in Cass Henderson's ear. Cringing, he took a step to the side, away from the wall mounted speaker. Ingram. That would be Ensign Pennington. This should prove interesting.
The warp shuttle slid gently into the bay and settled to the deck, a door in it's slate grey hull sliding open and disgorging it's passengers.
Surely she should have been expelled by now. Anyone else, of course, but with her luck, well... lack thereof... she'd probably get promoted again. This never would have happened if she hadn't *accidentally* helped on that raid on the Rondelle.... but no use crying over spilt milk.
Gathering her resolve, she marched out- just as the doors were closing. Ducking through the damn things, she narrowly avoided getting stepped on by a portly businessman, who then swore at her in a language she wasn't she had ever heard of. So this is why I hate crowds... it's so damn hard to find anyone in them... She had a picture of her commanding officer which the secretary had *assured* her was up to date- but she had her doubts.
Cassius looked through the crowd of people boarding galaxy. Too many damn civilians in his opinion. Noticing the spindly terran girl nearly getting trampled, he figured that this had to be the infamous Rima Pennington, if he file's image was correct. Their eyes met and he walked across the deck to where the crowd was beginning to disperse.
She grimaced- first meetings were never pleasant, in her experience. Of course, this was just another challenge... Brushing the bootmarks off her uniform, she strode (well, ducked) over to him and suddenly felt dirty and resentful. She shrugged carelessly and saluted; just another challenge, she told herself.
"Lieutenant." Oh, this was going to be FUN....
"Good afternoon, miss. You must be Rima." he said, trying to be as kind as he could. Maybe if he could breach the whole communications barrier she seemed to have erected around herself, he would have an easier time dealing with her.
She sighed inwardly. At the moment, Henderson looked rather afraid of her- she had probably overdone the formality. "Yes, and you must be... uh...." Silently cursing her inability to remember names, she thought desperately. "Cassius!"
"Right." he said, "But, since you and I will be working together a lot, you can call me Cass. Welcome to the Galaxy." He decided to say the usual welcoming message, that way he could size her up, and see how she would react. So far, so good. Seemed like she could handle herself.
"Cass. Right." She checked the dock- it was almost completely empty. "We should probably be, uh..." Gesturing futilely with one hand, she smiled as widely as she could. *I might as well let him off easy... for now...* "So, is that the Galaxy?"
"This, yes, this is the Galaxy." Cass replied, "Why don't we head over to my office and get the particulars down. Sound good, Miss Pennington?"
"Uh... yeah? I mean, that sounds good... where is Tactical anyway?"
"Both Tactical Analysis Control and the Tactical offices, yours and mine, are on Deck 11, near the phaser and torpedo rooms." Cass replied, leading her into a turbolift.
"It's so big..." Rima was in awe- the Galaxy was larger by far than the Rondelle. "How am I supposed to find my way around?"
"Well, eventually you'll get used to it. I know you only served on a maintenance ship previously, but it does come with time. Plus. most of the ship is an endless maze of crew quarters. Anyway, until then, you can access the main computer and ask for directions." he replied, setting the lift to take them up to the office.
"Thanks.... so how'd you get to this ship anyway? Just curious."
"I just arrived a few weeks ago, actually, from Ianjep, the Klingon resort world. Before that, i served on the USS Havoc, a Steamrunner-Class Medium Cruiser. Wound up giving some Breen a bloody nose and getting this position as my 'reward'." he said, with a chuckle. She didn't seem that bad.
She glanced over. Damn! He was catching on to her... couldn't have that. "Huh. Well. I'm here by accident, actually... I never should have saved those civilians."
"And why's that, Ensign?" he asked, curious. That wasn't a hugely 'Starfleet' thing to say, but then, with her, that didn't surprise him.
She grinned. "Well, some idiot scavengers attacked the ship... right at dinner too, the bastards, and then they insisted on firing on some merchants we had taken on... and I had to do SOMETHING, so..." She trailed off, displaying a scar on her arm.
"Why don't you get the scar removed," he asked, "And why wouldn't you be proud of taking down a few scavengers who were preying on people who had no quarrel with them?"
"I never really meant to get into this whole business anyway, you might say it was a complete mistake, and the scar reminds me not to stick my neck out for other people. Are we there yet?"
"Easy." he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender, "I guess I hit a nerve. Hey, if you ever want to talk, I'm all ears. We do have to work together."
She glared. This one was going to be tough to crack, obviously. "Sorry... I try not to think about it too much. It was a weird experience. Also, ARE we there yet? I'm really tired."
"Yeah, we're there. He said as the doors to the lift opened. He had decided that maybe Ella could get something out of her. They had at least a few things in common, by all accounts... "Your trip must have been long." he said, guiding her into his office and into a chair opposite his desk.
She collapsed in a chair and sighed. "A man kept on asking me... something... in Japanese... and kept poking me with his umbrella. What do we have to do before I can sleep, anyway?"
"Not too much, thankfully. We're headed into potentially hostile territory, so I'll need you awake when we get there," Henderson replied, then glanced down at the PADDs on his desk. Handing one to her, he pointed to the office next door. "That office over there is yours. Dan Livadhi, my last ACTO, will clean it out tonight."
She wandered over to her future office, PADD still in hand. "It's, uh, big... well, bigger than I'm used to. Hostile territory, huh?"
"Yeah. Captain Bhrode's been ordered to take us close to Orion territory." he said, "So how much have you heard about the command staff, anyway?"
"Well... I fell asleep during the briefing."
"Ah. Have you heard of Captain Bhrode before?"
She winced. "Uh. Maybe?"
"Not surprising." Henderson said, sitting down while Pennington explored her office, "He's a hard man. He's tough, disciplined, and no nonsense. Twice accused of killing people under his command."
"Under his command?" Rima picked up an odd rock. "Is this a paperweight or what?"
"Uhm, actually, yes. Sometimes applied tactical theory is best worked out on paper. So I always leave a piece of rose quartz in my ACTO's office, should they need a paperweight," he said, then paused. "Where I think I'm trying to go with all this, is that he isn't the kind of officer who tolerates pranks and practical jokes. Nor am I, in all reality, though I certainly won't have you shot."
"Oh. Are you trying to say something here? It's easier when you just come out and say it instead of dancing around the subject. Also, it's a nice rock."
"Thank you. I picked it out myself," Henderson replied, without looking up from the PADD that he was 'reading', "And yes, Ms. Pennington, I am trying to say something. You have, in the past, had problems. I had reservations about accepting you as my assistant, but your record, as well as a few things about your personality, suggest to me that you may well be redeemable."
She raised an eyebrow. "Redeemable? Well, gee, thanks. I didn't really expect to get this far, so I'm just as surprised as you. But seriously... I don't know you, how do I know you'll be a good commanding officer?"
"Well, for the same reason that I have to trust that you'll be a good assistant," Cass replied, "We're stuck together. Life does that to people, no matter what they want."
She put the rock down abruptly. "Well, I guess we'll just have to see. Now, you were talking about sleep?"
Cass looked up for a moment and held her gaze. "Yes, I was. You have Beta shift on the main bridge. You have two days to get settled in before you have to start taking shifts. Also, there will be a tactical meeting tomorrow morning at 1300. Enjoy your rest, Ensign."
Rima grimaced. "Beta shift, huh? Okay, well, 'night.. nice meeting you. I think."
"Right. You can go now. Your quarters are on Deck 8, three doors down from mine. Thanks for taking the time to get started." he said, then watched her leave.
She leaned against the doorway and sighed. Dear god, but she and that man were going to hate each other. Well... after she was done with him, anyway.
Cass slumped in his chair. He would call Irene again tonight. This just wasn't going to work. As much as he had tried to be civil, the woman was just intolerable... Maybe Ella would come with him for tea after the shift ended...
*backpost*
Cassius Henderson gathered his thoughts and rang her chime. He was in front of Ella Grey's quarters, exactly two hours after leaving her in 10 forward. He'd rushed back to the tactical planning office and given the last interview.? It had been relatively simple, since it had been the vulcan woman, T'Liera. She was a specialist in fighter control, which intrigued him, since that meshed with the marines. He'd decided that he would have to look into it.
Then he'd headed back to his quarters, where he had replicated something appropriate to wear. A simple black pullover sweater and black slacks would do nicely. Simple, but kind of dark and mysterious. And it accented his hair. Deciding that was good enough, he tied his cream-colored ascot around his neck and shoved it down his sweater. With that said, he headed down to the holodeck and made the few modifications to the program that he would need. He knew that he had read somewhere in Ella's bio that she liked a good holo-novel....Maybe this would pique her tastes.
So now he was here, outside her door, calm and confident, or at least he hoped he looked that way, because Ella was one of the few people who he knew he couldn't count on to act any one particular way.
Ella had debated on what to wear. So far this Cassius had only seen her in uniform and Ella had always thought that clothes were important for making lasting impressions upon people.
She had gone through her closet, so nice to have her own closet now, and still crammed drawers until she had finally decided on fitted black jeans, a blue halter top, and some sensible shoes in case this man's idea of fun on the Holodeck included running from aliens. She'd kept her hair up to show off her back.
Ella had wondered briefly about what she might hear because of this, the rumors were just begining to get started about her and Victor's alleged torrid affair, but she found she didn't really care. She needed a night out.
Ordinarily, she tried to avoid actually going in the holodeck but she figured, with him there, the chances of her getting stuck inside were too small to be concerned about.
She opened the door to reveal Cass. She looked him over briefly, amused that they were somewhat clothing coordinated. ~~Hi.~~ she signed.
~~Hello.You look nice...~~ Cass returned. She certainly did.... Ella Grey had a certain look that appealed to Cass.She was relaxed, yet attractive.Confident, yet not overly dominant. A nice middle ground.
~~Thank you. Am I going to need a jacket?~~
~~Might be a decent idea... The entrance is a short walk from the restuarant. By the way, we have an option,~~ he signed, ~~The program is designed to function one of two ways, as a murder mystery, or as a nice place to have dinner.We can do it either way you want.~~
Ella smiled. ~~Just a second.~~ She went back in to grab a matching black jean jacket and then returned. ~~I want to do the murder mystery, I've never been to one before.~~
~~Great.?Whenever you're ready to go, I'm certainly up to it...~~ he said, hooking his arm out so she could take it.
With a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, she linked her arm with his.
~~So, tell me about yourself, Cass.~~ she managed to sign with her free arm and linked arm.
~~Well, I'm space born, but my parents are both English. They served on the Callimachus together. Considering their devotion to duty, it was only natural that I would join the fleet.~~ Cass signed, a little more unevenly, since he wasn't as skilled or used to signing with his arm linked, ~~Unfortunately, I've spent most of my life in intelligence work.~~
~~So you decided to leave it, then?~ Ella asked.
~~Actually, getting out of it wasn't really too much of my choice,~~ Cass replied, ~~I used to hold the rank of Lieutenant Commander, back in the Dominion War when you rose through the ranks fast, especially in intelligence. But after the war, I fouled a mission, lost my rank and was forced out of intelligence. Best day of my life.~~
She stole a sideways glance at him, wondered if he were really serious about that. He seemed to be at any rate. They approached the Holodeck and Cass unlinked arms so that he could input the program.
Ella entered with some caution. One never knew what one would find when first entering the Holodeck. She'd once had a severed Romulans head come flying at her. They entered the program, set in the United States, circa 1944, an area that was occupied by that era's Nazi Germany. After a short walk, Cass gently guided Ella into club, filled with upper-class socialites in the middle of a party.
~~Don't worry, they won't notice that you don't belong.~~ he signed to her.
She sat down at the table, impressed, and then started looking around her with narrowed eyes. Which one of these people would be the killer? The waiter was too obvious. He looked lecherous and even a bit drunk. The old woman, possibly. She just looked the sort. Maybe even her son, who looked....Ella noticed Cass looking at her. ~~Sorry~~ she appoligized. ~~I didnt mean to ignore you.~~
~~Don't worry about it. There's a whole world of possibilities that we don't encounter every day... I haven't done this program yet, though I set the parameters and am reasonable knowledgable about what to expect.~~ he signed, then signalled the tipsy waiter.
She was about to respond when there was a loud cry. Ella turned to see the old lady slumped forward, her mouth open and her dead eyes turned up to the stars. I guess she didn't do it, Ella thought drily.
~~Do we investigate?~~ Ella asked him.
~~Why don't we watch for a moment,~~ he replied, ~~You and I both know that you can learn a lot from people watching.
Ella looked on with interest as everone huddled around the dead woman. There was the son, the waiter, an older man she assumed was the husband, a yonger man- possibly another son, a woman shrieking after her dead friend, and a maid.
The woman had apparently been poisoned. No wounds of any kind appeared on her body. Ella raised an eyebrow, for a moment thinking back on her ex employee Daro Cole. Daro had once commented that poison was a coward's tool. Ella had told him that for a mercenary, he sure was picky.
~~I think the friend did it.~~ Ella confided in Cass.
~~I'd say it's likely to be the other woman. She's over acting quite badly.~~ Cass suggested, ~~Though that could just be the program.~~
~~Ah, but we women can be dangerous.~~ She signed with a wink.
A wry smile crossed Cass' face. ~~With you around, I believe it.~~ he chuckled after signing. Then he walked over to the group of mourning individuals and spoke. "Ladies and gentlemen. Maybe I can be of some assistance. Now then, don't all speak at once." Cass said, and then waited from them to reply.
"It's terrible, terrible" The best friend said. "Poor Mirabelle."
The maid was too busy weeping to respond.
"MY MOTHER IS DEAD." the son exclaimed, as if the concept just caught up with him.
"The old bat never could leave without making a spectacle." the dead woman's husband agreed.
Ella came over as well. She patted the maid on the back and then pushed her gently out of the way when the woman didn't respond. Ella looked at the dead woman and pointed out the strange substance around her mouth. ~~I'm not a doctor, Cass, but that looks bad.~~
Cassius, meanwhile, had bent over to look at it... ~~Doesn't look natural, whatever it is.~~
~~Allright then, let's start the interrogations.~~
~~Be my guest, Ella. They will understand sign, but won't respond to it.~~
~~I get to be bad cop.~~ Ella signed with a smirk. She put on her 'serious' face.
Cassius just chuckled, then pulled the husband aside and let Ella dig into the women. It was amusing, he decided, the way she acted. There was a certain adventurous lovability about her. Turning to the task at hand, he began to question the old man about his life with his wife.
Ella glared at the best friend. The woman gulped and took a seat. Ella crossed her arms, paced slightly, and then pointed at her. ~~You killed her, DIDN'T YOU!!!~~
The woman broke into tears. "Yes...yes, I did! Mirabelle always got everything she wanted. She stole my husband, she stole my happiness, she-" the woman blabbered on.
Ella flicked an imaginary speck of dust off herself and then blew at her nails before signing, triumphantly, ~~I told you.~~ She smiled. ~~I think your program is set at too low a level.~~
Cass just sighed, and leaned on a table. "Computer, freeze program." he said, then signed to Ella, ~~You know, you're really quite attractive when you're smug. Oops.~~ He shrugged his shoulders. ~~So, ah... what do you want to do now?~~ He was embarrassed, and hoped that Ella wouldn't see that under his carefully trained expression.
She smiled. ~~Let's set it a couple of levels ahead.~~
****
Ella and Cass walked out of the Holodeck. Ella shook her head. ~~I can't believe that little old man did it. I guess it just goes to show you can never trust the buttler. I should tell my parents.~~
Cass and Ella made small talk as he walked her back to her quarters. As he went, he breathed a sigh of relief. Some women would have laughed at him for such a simple oversight as forgetting to set the program's difficulty level. But Ella had handled it like a mature young lady, which was more than could be said of many people that Cass knew.
Upon arriving back at her quarters, Cass kissed Ella's hand and bid her goodnight, then watched her dissapear into her quarters. Smiling absently, he signed to himself, though nobody was there.
~~I could get to like her.~~
All over the ship, chaos was breaking out of the proverbial hell’s gate.
=/\=”Team Epsilon to Security Central! We are under heavy fire. Half of our team is pinned at section 2 gamma, deck 12. We are in need of assistance. Over!”=/\=
=/\=”Lieutenant Nuln to Security Central! I need backup at cargo bay six! I’m in way over my head! *FRAK FRAK*”=/\=
=/\=”Strike team Viking to Security Central, reporting Orion movements on deck ten. Possible destination, deck 9. They’re on the move, and we don’t have enough people on deck ten. SEND BACKUP!!!”=/\=
There were too many calls for help to keep track. What the Orions lacked in sheer numeral superiority, they made up for it by keeping on the move. For the good part of the emergency, while the ship was swatted around by raking phaser shots, security was forced to play cat and mouse with the cagey Orion boarding parties.
For the most part, James was keeping his cool, despite the ship exploding around himself, despite the fact that the Orions were shooting at him and creating all sorts of chaos that went well against the order of the ship that he was used to. Dashing through the halls of the ship, firing back as the Orions nipped at their heels, James and his security outfit was doing all right.
“What the f**k are the marines doing? Sitting with their thumbs up their asses!?!” James screamed into his badge, while ducking a green Orion disruptor blast, “Well f**k me sideways, tell them to start suppressing the f**king Orions in the saucer section. Would make our jobs a hell of a lot easier!….. What? Talk to them myself? I’m knee deep in their f**king dead for f**k sakes! Now’s not a time for a conference call! Fine! I’ll take care of the f**king parties myself! Over and f**king out, security central!”
James sighed, turning his attention to the Orions taking cover at the next intersection, “Always get the interesting cases…”
Years of being away from any front lines didn’t dull Corgan’s battle skills. His phaser pistol snapped out, ringing and screaming red death at the Orion interlopers. Phaser beams criss-crossed the halls, searing black jagged marks into the walls, causing Orion boarders to duck into the corners and wait for the phaser fire to die down.
Without his glasses on, James was having difficulty seeing the Orions in the corner through his right eye. The old wound irritated when he squinted to aim, therefore he relied more on his left, though it wasn’t the same. Though only half as effective as he was in his prime, he was still a deadly marksman. As soon as he saw an Orion peer out of the left corner of the intersection, his beam scythed air and sent the boarder reeling into unconciousness.
“Surrender motherf**kers, or you’ll be phaser bait!” The chief of security cried out an ultimatum, “You have the right to have your ass turned into a crispy nugget unless you comply!”
From out of the corner, an Orion jeered, “Blow me, brothel b*tch!”
Maybe it was the insult, or maybe it was because the boarding was starting to get on James Corgan’s nerves. But maybe it was both that contributed to Corgan’s instant change of mood. He was no longer just an angry, swearing, trash mouthed leader. He was now a totally irate, filthy, trash mouth berzerker. What he did next came as a surprise.
“Wanna come over here and say that, sh*theel?!” Corgan yelled back, then turned to Lieutenant T’lan and E’xch, showing he was feigning his anger, “When will teams Viper, Boa and Cobra make it to their corridor? We should have these jolly pirates pinned by now.”
“Any second, sir.” E’xch confidently hummed in the typical Denobulan fashion. He cockily poked his rifle out and squeezed a few shots, then ducked back as the Orions fired.
James answer to his question came over the comm-badge, =/\=“Strike Team Viper to Team Omega. We’re in position. Ready to execute?”=/\=
James replied, “Ready and able. Over and out.” Then he turned to his crew of five, “Alright boys, retreat!”
E’xch blinked skeptically, “What sir?”
“You heard me. Fall back. Slowly. We’re being outnumbered.” James said, then winked. “T’lan, E’xch, cover fire. Richards and Tel’shii, retreat with me. Don’t let the Orions squeeze off too many. Keep them pinned. Now move!”
As if inching backwards, Team Omega (Corgan’s team designation), retreated slowly, firing off shots to keep the Orions from getting too curious. Barely any of them were willing to duck out for a full moment, until one Orion curious enough popped fully out, shooting stray shots into the hall. Then, to more came out and blanketed the area with fire. Team Omega bolted for cover, diving in as the two Lieutenants gave cover fire, striking one of the Orions down in the exchange. But as more orions were coming in, T’lan and E’xch found themselves hard pressed to keep them from charging down the halls. Finally, Corgan and his two ensigns found cover in another intersection, and fired back at the advancing raiders. T’lan and E’xch then ran for the corners and hid there for safety.
“Good work!” James congratulated, “Now if only we can get rid…” He fired a shot, “…of these f**king idiots! Stupid f**king Brhode and his stupid f**king trip to the stupid f**king triangle! That stupid f**king…” James shot twice, an Orion being felled in the chest with the stunning bolt, “…c*ck sucking son of a f**king b*tch! F**k!”
The Orions took cover at Team Omega’s original position, and more were coming in. James shots kept the raiders in cover, as a signal came in, =/\=”Viper to Omega. We’re in position.=/\=
James commanded, “Execute! Everyone, give ‘em hell!”
Team Omega answered back to the Orions advance with a devastating attack. All five members came out of cover and fired simultaneously, picking off two of the eight Orion boarding party. The Orions looked disarrayed as seeing the Starfleet officer’s newfound resistance, but were yet totally shaken. They fired back, sending Omega scrambling for the corners. From the rear of the Orion party, two of the boarders screamed in pain, and feel on the floor. As two others looked back, they too were hit with phaser shots, and brought out of action.
The remaining two officers, trying to glance between the firing from their rear and Team Omega, were starting to waver in their resolve. Caught in a t intersection of the ship, and with two blocked by outnumbering Federation security, they decided that it was time to retreat. Therefore, both Orions looked at each other, and ran opposite directions away from the firing.
Seconds later, James heard panicked screams, phaser firing, and the dropping of two heavy, humanoid sized weights.
“Looks like Cobra and Boa got their share too.” James grinned, “Team Omega to Teams Boa, Cobra and Viper, good job. Continue towards the objective.”
=/\=“Objective, sir?”=/\=
“Cargo bay 2. Security Team Bravo reports looting in that area. We’ll need to suppress them. Over and out.” James ended the conversation as he opened the turbolift.
************
Nexx Maritzi was in a very happy mood.
It was one of those assignments he felt couldn’t possibly go wrong. The USS Galaxy was caught not only in their territory while pursuing a criminal, but caught with its shields down as well. It was as ripe to pick as a wild Rigellian jewel plum during harvest season, and wild Rigellian jewel plums were very, very rare.
Especially when they came as a one of a kind Federation battleship that was crippled and ready to plunder.
As was stated before, Nexx Maritzi was in a very happy mood.
His boarding party, a hardened crew of twenty of the best Orion raiders on this side of the triangle, was already sifting through crates and containers, cataloging loot and setting up transport enhancers to beam away all this wonderful, bountiful gift of pillagery. Two Starfleet officers, a security officer and an engineer, were captured and standing, unarmed and plucked of their communicators, with Nexx pacing from side to side around them, as three guards watched the officers for suspicious movements.
“You boys better start talking…” Nexx warned jokingly, whistling like a victorious songbird, “I want to know what else is in those crates, and where all the valuable cargo is…”
“Mathiassson, Johan. Ensign. Starfleet registration number 56143879.” Spoke a captured officer.
“Bennett, Lily. Lieutenant junior grade. Starfleet registration number 34552972.” Spoke the other.
Nexx, feeling somewhat peeved and frustrated, threw his arms up in the air and yelled, “Ahhh! Am I talking to Borg drones here? Come on….” He whined pitifully, “Tell me something useful. I really… really… REALLY… need to know where all the good stuff is stored.”
“Sir, all we have here are PADDS and self sealing stembolts.” Called one of his raiding party.
“I KNOW THAT!” He barked, the messenger yelping in fear, “Come on… where’s the good loot? Please?”
He waited a moment, thinking this line of interrogation had some potential. It was too bad the Starfleet officers dashed his hopes.
“Mathiassson, Johan. Ensign. Starfleet registration number 56143879.”
“Bennett, Lily. Lieutenant junior grade. Starfleet registration number 34552972.”
“Awwwww… man!” Lexx huffed, “What am I doing wrong? I tried persuasion, bribery… offers to the nice engineering lady…” He winked roguishly at Lieutenant jg Bennett, “And still nothing? Come on guys… I really need to know where the good stuff is, or else my captain will put me in some serious hot water. You understand me? I’m going to be in trouble! Please….” He wheedled, “Help out a poor man who’s just trying to make a living? Pllleeeaaassseee….”
“Mathiassson, Johan. Ensign. Starfleet registration number 56143879.”
“Bennett, Lily. Lieutenant junior grade. Starfleet registration number 34552972.”
“CRAP!” Nexx cursed, fishing through his pockets for an item. He pulls out a tiny, pocket sized Orion PADD, and virtually leafs through the pages, “Lets see… what to do with captured officers… hmmmmm… page 83… ok got it! Grint, you know what to do with these people in case they don’t tell you anything?”
“Yes..” Grint grumbled like two slabs of slate grinding together, “We torture them.”
“Hey, we’re raiders, not inquisitors. How primitive!” Nexx said with disgust, “Now it says here in the procedure manual, ‘in case the prisoner or captured enemy does not give you the information you request, you are to proceed with interrogation and torture of the subjects, including threats and offers to stop.’” He paused with a skeptical look, “Torture?!?! Awwww man! I don’t want to torture these people! I hate it when I have to hurt people. Is it too hard to get the location of all the good stuff?”
An Orion phaser shot rocked the ship, a spark flying from the console alerted the leader of the raiding party, “Awww… forget it. Lets just take this junk and get out of here before this rustbucket implodes on us… or something.”
“Torture?” Grint smiled with a sadistic glint in his eyes.
Nexx slapped Grint on the cheek. The slow witted giant of an Orion didn’t have time to block, but had time to gingerly rub the bruise on his cheek and wimper.
“Ohhh! Now I’m a hypocrite! I had to smack you, Grint! For the last time, no torture, no breaking bones, no cutting, no repeated phaser stunnings, no nothing! Got it!?!?”
“Yes… sir.” Grint whined, “But I really wanna…”
“Wanna doesn’t mean you’re gonna. Not in my outfit. Now get the rest of those transporter enhancers set up so we can take this junk home. Even this crap will let us eat and vacation for a good couple of months!”
“Yes… sir.”
The gigantic, hulking Grint slunk towards the rest of the boarding party, an permanent sulk in his step and a frown on his face. The brute was looking forward to busting heads and pounding on people, but this boarding was anything but. It left the giant unsatisfied as he snatched a transport enhancer out of a raider’s hand and slammed the activated device on the floor.
Nexx, sporting the grin of a victorious fox, his gray Orion uniform and gray cape lined on the inside with red velvet, lorded over his party like a southern general. Using his disruptor, he pointed to what crated went where, and where to set up the transport enhancers. The rest of the Orions, wishing reprieve from the onslaught of Nexx’s voice.
Unitch, Maritzi’s second in command, walked purposely towards his leader, “Sir, what do we do with the prisoners.”
Nexx tried to evade the question, “Are the crates and enhancers in position yet?”
“Yes sir, but what about the prisoners!” Unitch persisted.
Nexx glanced around, feigning ignorance, “The whatnow? OHHH!!!” He glanced at the two captured Starfleet officers, “The PRISONERS…. Ummmm…. I dunno. Let them loose when we get out of here. I don’t want any excess paperwork.”
“Sir, are you nuts!” Unitch gasped, “We’ll get tons of extra pay once we bring those two aboard!”
“Hey, haven’t you taken your ‘Pillage Economics’ classes at the Orion Academy yet?” Nexx Maritzi scolded his second, “Take the cargo we have, which is class 1 low grade loot. The quantity we have will net us about… six bars of gold pressed latinum. Now, the two prisoners will net us ten strips apiece. However, the paperwork takes on average three hours, which is time I could use to invest our booty on the Ferenginar and Rigellian stock exchanges for three times as much as I would get for these two prisoners. In order to make it worthwhile, I would have to have at least five prisoners.”
“Ummm… ok.” Unitch rolled his eyes, “Whatever you want, sir.”
“It is what I want. And we’ll leave it at that.“
Unitch asked, “You just don’t want to hurt them, don’t you?”
Begrudgingly, Nexx admitted, “Yeah… that too.”
“You know, you won’t get that promotion from the captain if we keep doing stuff like this.” Unitch reminded, “Disobeying orders, pillaging instead of hitting vital systems, refusing to interrogate prisoners…”
“Come on, you know it’s the captain’s way of testing us.” Nexx patted Unitch on the shoulder, “He wants us to take the initiative. He wants us to find that motherlode. We just have to go out there and get it.”
Hopelessly, Unitch sighed, “Whatever you say, sir.”
Nexx Maritzi couldn’t help but laugh. His second just couldn’t SEE it though his eyes. They were rich, though it was a pile of junk. However, what he saw was a pile of Federation junk, which was hard to come by, high quality, and much sought after… though most of it was the equivalent of Federation stationary. In his eyes, it was his motherlode.
“Transport enhancers ready, sir.” One of his raiding party barked.
He yelled back, “Good. Prepare to get this stuff beamed over…. Right about… I’d say…. When I say now, beam it over. Hold on… gotta find my moment. Find my moment… find my moment………..”
The raiding party waited impatiently as Nexx tried to find the precise moment that was perfect to beam over.
Finally, he boomed, “Right about… Nnnnn..”
=/\=“FREEZE!”=/\=
Nexx found himself, and the rest of his raiding party, surrounded by five Starfleet officers. A Denobulan male, a beautiful female Vulcan, and three Human males, one of them wearing the pips of a Lieutenant Commander. All the Starfleet officers (except the Vulcan) didn’t look impressed, but all the officers (Vulcan included) had phaser pistols aimed right at their chests.
“Game over, f**kwad.” The Lieutenant Commander snarled, staring eye to wounded eye at the Orion leader.
“HA ha ha!” Nexx scoffed, “We have prisoners, and unless you want me to… ugggg, kill them, I suggest you.”
“Sir, the prisoners ran for cover. They’re right next to the security party now.” Unitch pointed out, as Lieutenant jg Bennett and Ensign Mathiasson picked up phasers and watched the surprised boarders.
Nexx’s jaw dropped. “No way… awww man! Well… ummm… we have you OUTNUMBERED! Haaaahahahahaha!!!!” Maritzi laughed like a jackal, “What are you going to do about that?”
The Lieutenant Commander didn’t speak. He simply pointed upwards. Nexx risked a glance…
And found the upper deck of the Cargo Bay filled with security officers, all aiming rifles at his raiding party. There were ten of them upstairs, ready to fire.
“Strike team Viper and Boa is in position, sir.” The squad leader up above called down to the Lieutenant Commander.
“Sir…” Unitch urged, “Backup plan… now…”
Nexx thought quickly, “Ummmm…. Welll… we still outnumber you! So there!”
Five more Starfleet security officers stormed through the main gate, this time armed with phaser rifled and battle armor. Nexx noted in dismay that their equipment was much better than his.
“Ummmm…. We have transport enhancers ready to steal your goods on my command?” He wimpered.
The Lieutenant Commander aimed his phaser at a transport enhancer and fired. A red beamed phaser blasted the Orion equipment into bits of charred metal and melted plastics.
“Not nomore you ain’t.” James smiled, very pleased with himself, “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re f**ked. This is where you surrender.”
Nexx looked around. He thought his men would be steadfast, ignoring odds and fighting on. They were the best, the best there was!
Awwww… who was he kidding? Most of the raiding party were rejects. They weren’t the best, but the worse, and this was another black mark on their track record. The reality was, they were just sprung out of a Denobulan prison, and before that the dungeon of a Suliban renegade warlord. This was not their week, so far.
“Alright… I surrender.” Nexx gave up, throwing down his weapon, “Ok everybody, you know the drill.”
In a sea of groans, the Orion raiders threw down their weapons and loot. Expertly, every raider put their hands on their heads. Like robots, they all kneeled down on the floor, the laid prone, waiting like Ripian sheep to be trussed up for market.
“Do you know quite what to make of this?” James Corgan asked, slightly embarrased.
T’lan answered, “It appears they are well versed on the criminal side of apprehension protocol.”
James observed the field of surrendering Orions, who did it so well and practiced that it made him doubt the value of their capture. “That, Lieutenant, was too easy. Cuff ‘em and stuff ‘em. We’ll stay here while we call for a mop up crew.”
Nexx sweated a drop. He had enough captures to know what ‘cuff ‘em and stuff ‘em’ meant. Once again, his crew was going straight to the brig.
496