ROCKS AND SHOALS

 Part II

**********************************************************************

System M-294

Shaking his head somberly as he made his way through the corridors of the Bluefin, Captain Joseph Akinola cautiously picked his way through the scattered debris and the showers of sparks given off by exposed conduits, pausing for a moment near sickbay.  Gently caressed a bulkhead, he heaved a mournful sigh as he heard a stifled sob from inside the tiny cutter’s hospital area, “I’m sorry, Old Girl…” he apologized, “…it’s all my fault.”

“Bull Pucky!”

Raising his head, Captain Akinola saw the Bluefin’s chief medical officer, Dr. Calvin Baxter, wearing a traditional white lab coat over his uniform, approaching.  “What did you say, Doctor?”  The Nigerian captain growled, irritated at his friend interfering with his solitary reflection.

“You heard me.”  The retired head of Starfleet Medical replied in a no-nonsense voice as he ran a hand through his thick white hair.  “You can either come in here, Joseph…” Dr. Baxter said, dropping his voice so no one else could hear, “…or…if you want to continue feeling sorry for yourself, you can go somewhere else.”

Shaking his head, a slight smile crossed the white haired captain’s lips, “I don’t why I put up with you, Calvin.”  Akinola remarked as he crossed the threshold into sickbay.  His smile vanishing as he gazed on the fully occupied biobeds, the captain inquired, “How’re they doing?”

“They’ll be ok, Joe.”  The elderly doctor replied as he placed a consoling hand on his friend’s shoulder.  “If it weren’t for you, there’d be a whole lot more of ‘em in here—and more of ‘em…” he noted somberly, pointing in the direction of the stasis chambers that served as the Bluefin’s morgue, “…in there.”

“It wasn’t me.”  Joseph demurred waving his hand first towards his wounded crew, and then in an all encompassing gesture, “It was them…and it was her.”  He finished, referring to the old border cutter.”

“Yeah.”  Calvin agreed, “They did their part.  But don’t sell yourself short, Joe.  They did it under your leadership.  You held firm, you kept your cool, didn’t panic.”

“Diaz still had me dead to rights.”  The white haired captain vainly protested only to once again be interrupted by his friend.

“Sabrina Diaz was one of the most talented and gifted officers in the Fleet—Regular or Border, Captain Akinola.”  Baxter countered, deliberately emphasizing Joseph’s rank.  “You’re not the first person she’s gotten the drop on and I have a feeling you won’t be the last. Today was her day.  Tomorrow…”

“…is another day.”  Joseph concluded through clenched teeth.  “I guess you’re right, Calvin.”  Taking a deep breath and exhaling, the grizzled border skipper clasped Dr. Baxter’s shoulder, “Thanks, old friend.  I guess I needed the pep talk.”

“Don’t mention it, Joseph.  You’ve done it for me a couple of times.”  The retired admiral answered back with a grin, “So, what’s next.”

“Next…” Joseph grinned, “I wrap up my paperwork, tell Dale to get ready for Shelby’s people, and then I think I’ll beam over to that luxury liner of hers and see how our people are doing over there.”

“Sounds like a plan.”  Calvin replied his lips turning up in a wicked grin.  “Just make sure you don’t catch her at the wrong time—if even a third of what I’ve heard about her is true, I don’t think your heart could stand it.  Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.”

***********************************************************************

Turning her head towards the man seated next to her, Captain Elizabeth Shelby requested as she brushed aside a stray lock of blonde hair, “Chris, I want you to tell Mr. Tol and Dr. Murakawa to organize repair and medical teams to help out on the Bluefin as soon as possible.”

“Aye, Sir.”  The chestnut haired first officer responded as he got up out of his seat, “Anything else?”

“Yeah…” The captain replied thoughtfully, “I don’t want any inter-service dustups right now between our two crews.  Make sure the crew in general and those going on the Bluefin especially understand that they’re to keep the ‘border dog’ and ‘canoe fleet’ comments to themselves until we get the Bluefin to DS9.”  Nodding her head in satisfaction as Hobson, acknowledging her orders, left the bridge; Liz turned her attention to her science officer, “Mr. Varok?  Are you picking up anything from the mining colony?”

“Aye, Captain.”  The Vulcan science officer responded.  “While the raiders were most…efficient…in their attack, the Lissepians state that they have their systems back on line and have politely, yet firmly, refused our offers for assistance.”

“Which means they’re hiding something.”  Liz grimly concluded.

“Given the Lissepians’ long-term relationship with the Cardassians…” Varok replied in his usual flat tone, “…that would be a logical supposition.”  Returning to his scans, the Vulcan science officer remarked, raising an eyebrow, “Interesting…I am detecting a small cylindrical object drifting.”

“A mine?”  Ensign Django interjected.

“I am detecting no signs of explosives.” The Vulcan reported, “Carrying out level nine scan.  Interesting…” The elderly science officer raised an eyebrow, “There appears to be a biological substance in the cylinder.”

“Can you identify it?”  Shelby asked, the hairs on the back of her neck standing out on hearing her science officer’s report.

“Negative, Sir.”  Varok replied.  “Further analysis will require a closer examination.  I would recommend bringing it aboard for a more detailed analysis.”  Anticipating his commanding officer’s objections, the Vulcan added, “If it is transported into one of the research labs that can be ejected and kept within a level ten quarantine/confinement field, that should eliminate any possibility of contamination.”

“Very well.”  Captain Shelby decided, “Go ahead.  I want you and Dr. Murakawa to go over that thing and what’s inside it with a fine tooth comb.”  Her face taking on a grim mien, the petite captain declared, “If Diaz is mucking about with biogenic or mutagenic weapons, then she’s taken this to a totally different level and she’s got to be stopped.”

“Sir?”  Lieutenant Rysyl interjected, “What if she doesn’t know anything about this?  What if it’s an attempt to make us think that she’s working with these weapons?”

“It’s possible.”  Liz conceded, “To be honest, Lieutenant, I hope you’re right, because if you’re not, then as far as I’m concerned, the Sabrina Diaz I knew is dead.”

*********************************************************************

Runabout Loire

“All right, Mr. Atoa…” Sabrina Diaz said, flashing an icy grin as she sat down in the copilot’s seat, “We’ll talk.  But you better make it good.”  Motioning with her phaser for her rescuer to take the pilot’s seat next to her, her grin disappeared as she asked, “First question—why did you help us?”

With a snort, Manuele replied, “I’m not going to tell you that I wanted to join you because I believe in the Maquis cause, because that would be a damned lie.”  Seeing the wry grin on the former starship captain’s face, Atoa continued, “I’m also not going to tell you that I’m in it for the money.”

“So…why are you doing this?”  Diaz pressed, her phaser not quite pointed at the New Kauaian.

After several moments of silence, Manuele answered in a soft voice, “Because of what happened at Leyton’s trial.”  Seeing the quizzical look on his interrogator’s face, Atoa explained, “I was there at the trial.  I saw the slaps on the wrist that Leyton and Benteen got while they threw Lieutenant Commander Daneeka and Captain Taras into that hellhole Supermax for ten years!  Ten years for two good people who made a mistake while the leader of the coup and his aide skate with five years in Club Fed.”  Pausing for a moment, Manny asked, “Did you know either one of them?”

“I knew Daneeka.”  Sabrina confessed, “Met her a few years ago on Deep Space Five.  She impressed me.”  Pausing for a moment, she added in a soft voice, “I met Captain Taras once too.  My ex-husband introduced us.  I’d just been made captain and was about to take command of the Rochefort.  From what I’ve heard, he was a good officer—well liked by his crew and well respected by his fellow captains.  I also remember keeping up with his exploratory missions while I commanded the Cuffe…” ending on a somber note, she remarked, “…he was very much an explorer at heart.  It surprised me when I found out he was involved in Leyton’s plot.”

“He did it out of loyalty to Leyton...”  Manuele replied, carefully hiding his growing confidence that he was feeling that he was beginning to at least partly gain the distrustful Maquis leader’s trust, “…and because he realized how dangerous the Dominion is.”

“I see…” Sabrina remarked sagely before further probing, “I’m not aware of you being a part of Leyton’s plot…”

“I wasn’t.”  Atoa answered back, shaking his head.  “And yes…I did my part in exposing it.”  Taking a deep breath, the New Kauaian continued, “And I’ll be honest with you, had Leyton and Benteen gotten what they should have and Daneeka and Taras treated with a bit more compassion, I probably wouldn’t be here talking with you now.  Instead, Leyton’s friends get him a light sentence and Benteen cops a plea and coasts because she used to be Captain Shelby’s girlfriend.”  Looking straight into Diaz’s eyes, the New Kauaian asked, “Tell me where’s the justice in that?”

“There isn’t any.”  Sabrina allowed before demurring, “What you’ve told me keeps you in one piece, but you still haven’t given me any reason to trust you beyond letting you go your own way with all your body parts intact when we part company.”  A sly grin crossing her face, she added, “With or without the runabout I haven’t decided as yet.”

“Ok…” Manuele retorted, “There is something else.”  Taking a deep breath and then exhaling, the undercover security officer explained, “The straw that finally broke my back was when I received a security communiqué a few weeks ago from Captain Shelby.  As a gesture of support for the new civilian Cardassian government, Starfleet has decided on supplying the Cardassians with medical and other relief supplies—stuff that can’t be replicated.  I…” he declared in a solemn voice, “…know where they’re being stockpiled.”

Her face darkening, Sabrina spat out, “The Maquis colonies have people dying of disease…malnourished…in need of shelter and clothing.  Do you know how many human, Bajoran, and the lives of many others who used to take pride in calling themselves Federation citizens could be saved by those supplies?”  Her eyes boring into Atoa’s, the former starship captain promised, “You show us where they’re being kept and I’ll consider making room for you in my group.”  Her eyes now taking on a steely glint, she warned in an icy tone, “If this is a trick, you won’t live to see how it comes off.”

“Understood.”  Manuele simply replied as he turned his attention to the console.  “If you want to tell me where you want to go, I’ll set the course.”

Her lips once again turning up in a crooked grin, Sabrina inquired, “So…you’re still not going to release the controls? Is this how you wish to earn my trust?”

With a snort, Manuele quipped, “I trust you about as much as you trust me.”

“Good to see we’re on the same page.”  Sabrina rejoined as she, reaching over, she punched in the coordinates for her base on the pilot’s console.  “That’s where we’re going.”

“All right.”  Atoa replied as the runabout slipped into warp in a flash of light.  “Here we go.”

**********************************************************************

Persis IV

“Ok, S’nurl…” Lynn Pierson, asked as, leaning back in his chair, he propped his feet up on his desk, “…what did you find out about our new ‘employee’?”

“He sssseemsssss to check out, Bosssss…” The Gorn bodyguard replied, his teeth flashing in a predatory smile.  “Tabar Esssstak…from an undisssstinguished family.”

“A bushak then.”  Dak, the bartender grunted.  “Just as he says.  So…he’s clean?”

“Maybe…” Pierson responded dubiously as he read the information on the padd that his Gorn employee gave him, “But…the hairs on the back of my head tell me there’s more here.  Added to that…” he said as his fingers drummed the arm of his chair, “…he all but admitted to me that he was once in Starfleet. The question is…if he is a Fed…who is he working for?”

 “Could be Ssssstarfleet Intelligence…” S’nurl offered helpfully.

“Perhaps.”  Pierson allowed, taking on a thoughtful countenance.  “Or Federation Security or Special Missions or Border Service Intelligence, or any of several black ops groups I know about and you guys don’t.”  A dark look appearing on the bar owner’s face, he warned in a grave tone, “And take my word for it…you don’t want to know about them either.  These guys are every bit as nasty as the Obsidian Order or the Tal’Shiar—maybe even a bit nastier.”

“So…like you thought, he’s a Fed?”  The burly barkeep inquired, “What’s he doing here?”

“Corillan acid would be my guess.”  Pierson conjectured, his hand going momentarily towards the scar on his cheek before it dropped back down to his side once again. 

“So you think he’s going after Rejak and his operation?”  Dak queried, a worried look on his face, “Could attract a lot of attention to us if we let him do it, Boss…attention we might not want.” Sounds like bad news.”  Dak decided with a frown, “Maybe we should just go ahead and get rid of him? Might save us a lot of trouble in the long run.”

“No.”  The former Starfleeter answered back, shaking his head, “We’re not the target and if he does belong to one of the black ops boys, they might decide to retaliate—if for no other reason than to send a message to any other…independent…operators.  Better—and safer—for us just to stay out of the line of fire if at all possible.  Besides…” Pierson chuckled, “I think S’nurl likes him.”

“Yessss…” The Gorn replied, pleased at his employer’s decision.  “He’sssss not so bad…”

“For a warm-blood?”  Pierson quipped as his bodyguard flashed a toothy grin.  “I agree, S’nurl.  Besides, I’m getting to like him too.” His laughter vanishing as his face took on a more menacing cast, the former Starfleet officer continued, “Also, I owe Rejak one for what he did to my ex and my little girl and I can’t think of a better way of paying the bastard back than helping Starfleet trash his operation.  Finally…” he concluded, referring to the Corillan acid, “…I don’t really have any problems with helping take that crap out of circulation.  Since Alena…” he explained, referring to the green Orion dancer who worked for him, “…got hooked on that stuff, she hasn’t been the same.”

“I know what you mean, Boss.”  Dak agreed, “It’s like she’s just…there.  Remember how she used to be when she danced?”  Flashing a leer, he continued, “She used to love it…the customers did too.”  Shaking his head, the heavyset bartender growled, “But since she started taking that junk…well…while she’s high…she…” he admitted, “…she pulls ‘em in even more.  And well…when she’s doing her thing with the johns…as long as she’s trippin’, the tips are really…really…good.”

“That’s the aphrodisiac qualities of the drug…” Pierson interjected adding, “But, it doesn’t come without a price tag attached.”

“Yeah.  When she comes down…”  Dak said, shaking his head, “She comes down hard.  And it’s been getting worse.  Gotta be honest, Boss…I’m worried about her.”

“Same here.”  Pierson admitted, “That’s why I told you to hold back an extra twenty percent from her weekly take—I’ve been putting it aside until she’s got enough so that I can have her put into rehab.”

“So…” The bartender asked, a hopeful note in his voice, “…when do you plan on getting her help?”

“Soon.”  Pierson declared, “I want to wait to be sure what our new guy’s really after first though…in case we have to move fast, but…if he is going after Rejak, I think I’ll make sure to send her…and Bala  and Alain too…out of the way just in case things blow up.”

“Sounds good, Boss.”

“Great.”  Pierson grinned, “So…where is our Mr. Estak?”

Chuckling, the bartender replied, “He’s watching over the girls and Alain—should be getting back soon, unless he ran into a problem with one of the Johns, that is.” 

*********************************************************************

Grasping the naked cringing human by his neck, Solly slammed him up against the wall of the dingy motel room.  “She said Romulan would cost you twenty extra slips…” the burly red Orion growled menacingly.  “When the girls say it’ll cost you twenty slips—it’ll cost you twenty slips—no freebies.  Got it?  Good!”  Still pinning the hapless man up against the wall, Solly called over his shoulder, “You all right, Alena?”

“My bottom’s sore, but other than that, I’m ok…” The green Orion prostitute whimpered as she came out of the bathroom, slurring her words as she spoke.  “Don’t worry.  Boss’ll have Doc look me over and my bum’ll be ready for tonight.”

Noting the glazed look in the green skinned woman’s eyes, Chief Brin shook his head, “Did you drop some acid just now, ‘lena?”

 “Yeah…” She purred as she picked her clothes off the floor, “I’m trippin’, baby.”  Holding out the vial of green liquid, she teased, “Wanna join me?”

“No thanks.”  Solly replied, heaving a sigh of exasperation.  “Just get dressed.  The others are waiting for us outside.”

“Your loss.” Alena mumbled semi-coherently as she slipped on her clothes.

Turning his attention back to the whimpering man in his grasp, Solly warned in a low, threatening tone as he drew his knife, causing the man to gasp in fear as he pressed the point of his blade against his groin, “Next time…I cut them off…understand?”  Releasing his grip on the man’s neck just enough so that he could nod his head, the red Orion CPO flashed a predatory grin as he let the man go, watching as the human slumped simpering down to the floor.  Turning to Alena, the chief jerked his head towards the door, “Let’s get out of here.”

As Solly escorted his charges back to Pierson’s bar, his actions were not going unobserved.  The Ferengi Torq, along with his two companions, watched concealed from a back alley as the foursome walked past them.  One of the Ferengi, drawing his phaser, aimed it at the red Orion’s back.  However, before his finger could press the firing stud, the lead Ferengi, clasping his flunky’s hand by the wrist, pushed it down hissing, “Not now.  If we kill him, it’ll get back to Pierson and he’ll sic his pet Gorn on us.”  His lips curling up in a vicious grin, the Torq whispered, “No…I’ve got a much better idea.  This way, we’ll get the Orion—and maybe Pierson and his Gorn too.”

***********************************************************************

“Great.”  Pierson exclaimed as he got up out of his seat.  Jerking his head towards the door, the ex-Starfleeter instructed his two employees, “So…unless there’s something else, you two can get back to the bar—I’ve got some stuff to tie up here.  I’ll be along shortly.”

As Dak and S’nurl exited his office, the former Starfleet officer activated his desk monitor, “Hey, Miriam…” Pierson grinned as his ex wife’s face appeared on the screen, “How are you and Ellen doing?”

“We’re ok…” The blonde haired woman replied, “So…” she inquired, flashing a wicked grin, “…what do you want?”

“I need you to do some digging for me, Sweetheart…” The dark haired man smiled roguishly, chuckling at the suspicious look on his former spouse’s face, “…don’t worry, it’s nothing that’ll compromise you or your friends in the Maquis.  I just need you to get me some information on any red Orion males that might be in Starfleet or who might have just left.”

“Shouldn’t be too difficult.”  His ex-wife replied with a grin, “There’s not a whole of Orion men in Starfleet in the first place and red Orions would narrow it down even more.  What sort of information do you want?”  Miriam inquired.

“The usual.”  Pierson shrugged, the smile still on his face, “Who they are…regular Starfleet, Border Service, or Special Ops…what ship they might be serving on…friends…associates…etcetera…et tedious cetera…”

“All right…all right.”  The blonde haired woman sighed, “I’ll see what I can do.  It’ll take some time though if you want me to be that thorough.”

“Don’t waste too much time.”  Lynn answered, “But I’d appreciate it if you could get me what you can.”

“Sure thing.”  Miriam replied with a grin, “I’ve got to go now, but Ellen says hi…and you take care of yourself you old scoundrel.

“You too.”  The former Starfleet officer replied with a fond grin as the screen went blank.  His hand once again going to his cheek, Pierson absently stroked his scar.  “Might be dicey…” he mused, “… but if I played my hand right, I might be able to knock off several birds with one stone.  But even if I can’t do that…”  he decided, a self-satisfied smirk appearing on his face, “If I can help knock off one Cardassian shaped bird in particular, it’d still be worth it.”

********************************************************************

System M-294

Immediately after rematerializing in the transporter room of the Albacore-class cutter, Lieutenant Commander Jadon Tol spotted a lithe Vulcan woman wearing the black with gold trim pants and jacket that was commonly worn by both Border Service and station personnel.  Noticing at once how well she filled out the uniform, Jadon’s lips turned up in a flirtatious grin as he requested, “Permission to come aboard?”

“Permission granted.”  The Vulcan woman responded with a playful smile of her own as she extended her hand, “Welcome to the Bluefin.  I’m Lieutenant T’Ser, the cutter’s operations officer.”

“Lieutenant Commander Jadon Tol.”  The dark-haired Trill replied, “But you can call me Jadon.  I’m the Chief Engineer for the Sutherland.”  Gesturing in the direction of the damage control and medical personnel with whom he arrived, Tol asked, “Where do you want ‘em?”

“Corpsman Sanders will escort your medtechs to sickbay, while Petty Officer Bron’ll take your engineering people to Commander Gralt.”  With a sigh of relief, the lovely Vulcan woman added, “If you don’t mind, I could use you and a couple others on the bridge.  More than a few of our systems got fried in the battle.”

“Not a problem.”  Jadon answered back before turning his attention to a blonde haired woman wearing gold and black standing behind him, “Treasure?  Take Philys and Snowden…” he directed, jerking his head towards the human and Denobulan engineering crewmen standing to the left of the buxom ensign, “…and go with the petty officer here and see what you can do to help out with engineering.  Franks and Thompson…you’re with me.”  Turning his attention back to T’Ser, the roguish Trill grinned, “Whenever you’re ready…”

“Great.”  T’Ser replied, “Come with me.”

**********************************************************************

“You were right, Captain.”  Lieutenant Dryer said, speaking to Captain Shelby through her comm unit, “We found three different detonation devices on the cylinder: One set to go off on re-materialization, another timed detonator, and a third set to go off if you try to disarm it without entering the proper key code.  While the transporter security buffers were able to take care of the first two detonators, the third one’s still hot.  Diaz snagged her self one hell of a creative bomb maker here.”  

“I see…”  Shelby drawled, speaking from the center seat of the Nebula-class starship, “…do you think you can disarm that detonator, Lieutenant?”

“I don’t think so, Sir.”  Dryer responded, shaking her head in regret, “This one’s way beyond me.”  Letting out a sigh, she remarked in somber tone, “If Lieutenant Atoa were here, there’d be no problem—unexploded ordinance was his baby.”

“Unfortunately Lieutenant Dryer…” Liz curtly replied, “Mr. Atoa isn’t here.  Mr. Varok? Do you think you can do it?”

“No, Sir.”  The elderly Vulcan replied, “The device has a six place key and appears to consist of multiple pathways…the odds of someone with my limited training being able to correctly deduce the correct sequence and route it through the correct pathways would be…”

“No need to give me the odds, Mr. Varok.”  The blonde captain quickly interjected, “I get the picture.”  Addressing the two officers in the lab, she said, “I’m open to suggestions.”

“Maybe…” Lieutenant Dryer proffered tentatively, “One of the Bluefin’s crew we have in sickbay might be able to help.”

“Can’t hurt to ask.”  Liz replied as she got out of her chair.  “Hold tight and monitor the situation for now.  If it looks like it’s going to blow—don’t take any chances.  Eject the lab pod and destroy it.”

**********************************************************************

“V’tosh ka’tur?”  Tol queried as he walked beside the Vulcan woman towards the turbolift that would take them to the bridge.

“However did you guess?”  T’Ser quipped with a wicked grin, continuing the mildly flirtatious conversation they had been engaged in since they met.

“Well…” Jadon teased back, “…your smile kind of gave it away.”

“I knew that thing would get me in trouble some day.”  T’Ser laughed and then inquired as the pair stepped into the turbolift, “How did you know about V’tosh ka’tur?  There aren’t that many of us running around.”

“My second host, Moran, was a dilithium speculator.  An acquaintance of his was one.”  Laughing, the joined Trill remarked, “Unfortunately, he had a thing for other men’s wives, girlfriends, or daughters.  Moran kept warning him that it would get him into trouble, but Suvak would just laugh and go on until one day…”

“What happened?”  T’Ser prompted, hooked by the roguish Trill’s story.

“Well…” Jadon recounted, “Suvak comes into Starbase 31 after striking it big in the Typhon Sector.  First, he stakes his claim at the assay office and he’s feeling pretty flush so he meets up with Moran and the two go into this bar on the station owned by a Centauran bartender who was a retired Chief Petty Officer.”

“Let me guess…” T’Ser interjected with a smirk, “He makes a play for the bartender’s wife…”

“No…” Tol replied with a chuckle, “But you’re close.  Ok…so…Suvak and Moran wander into the bar and ol’ Suvak sees this well built dark haired woman in a Starfleet uniform talking to shorter woman who was also in Starfleet.”

“Uh Oh!”  T’Ser exclaimed, “Why do I get the feeling this isn’t going to end very well?”

“Heh…” Jadon snorted, “You have no idea.  Anyway…Suvak goes up to the girls and puts on what he thinks is his best moves.  Both women shoot him down, but he doesn’t take no for an answer.  Bad move—especially when the dark haired girl’s boyfriend shows up along with Commodore Wesley.”

“Commodore Wesley!”    The Vulcan operations officer all but shouted, drawing curious looks from the other Bluefin crewmembers in the corridor.  “Commodore Robert Wesley…”

“The very same.”  Jadon affirmed, nodding his head vigorously.  “And guess who was with him…”

“Who?”  T’Ser asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“None other than our CMO’s current boyfriend.”  Seeing the confused look on the Vulcan’s face, the Trill engineer smiled, “Morgan Bateson.”

Immediately placing the name, T’Ser responded in an amused tone, “You mean Captain Bateson?”

“Yeah.”  Tol replied, again nodding his head.  “Only back then he was a lieutenant.  Well…anyway…they didn’t take too kindly to Suvak putting the make on the two women and asked him—nice and polite, mind you—to get the hell away from them.”  Laughing, the Trill continued, “Well, for a Vulcan, Suvak wasn’t exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer—if you know what I mean.  He tells the Commodore and Bateson to bugger off and that’s when it happened.”
 

“When what happened?”  T’Ser asked, her anticipation growing.

“Ok…Morgan starts to take a swing at him, but Wesley stops him.  He’s going to give Suvak one last warning, you see—but like I said, Suvak’s not the brightest Vulcan in the galaxy, so he’s going to try the old Vulcan neck pinch on the commodore.  Only one problem—Wesley was the Academy boxing champ and used to spar with Vulcans.  He slips the pinch and tags Suvak in his right temple.”

“Ouch.”  The Vulcan woman cringed.

“Right.”  Jadon replied, nodding his head.  “You Vulcans don’t have too many weaknesses, but the temple’s one of them.  Well, Suvak staggers, then the little Starfleet officer—the one sitting with Bateson’s girlfriend, conks him upside the head with her beer mug.  While that’s going on, the bartender comes out from around the counter, grabs poor Suvak by the collar of his shirt and the back of his pants, picks him up and tosses him out of the bar!”

As the turbolift door opened on the bridge, Commander McBride turned quickly at the sound of the loud laughter coming from that direction.  “Lieutenant T’Ser…” The Bluefin’s first officer coughed.

“Sorry, Sir.”  The Bluefin’s operations officer replied sheepishly as she tried to get her laughter under control, “But Jadon…I mean Lieutenant Commander Tol, was telling me a story about one of his prior hosts.”

“Must have been some story.”  McBride grumbled in his Texas accent as he took an instant dislike towards the dark haired Trill whom it seemed was cozying up to his operations officer.  Warily extending his hand, Dale introduced himself in a flat tone, “I’m Commander Dale McBride, Executive Officer for the Bluefin.”

“Jadon Tol…” Jadon replied, taking the first officer’s hand in his in a firm grip.  “As Lieutenant T’Ser said, I’m the Chief Engineer of the Sutherland.”  His eyes taking in the damaged consoles and stations on the bridge, the joined Trill remarked, all humor in his voice now gone, “And I see we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

**********************************************************************

Approaching a lithe Caitan female wearing the turquoise and black of the medical branch standing next to the biobeds containing the two seriously injured crewmates of his, Chief Deryx inquired, his voice edged with concern, “How are they, Nurse?”
 

Ensign M’rral, the Sutherland’s head nurse, upon hearing the Chief’s question, responded in a sure tone as she regarded the Denobulan standing before her, “They’ll be ok now, Chief.” The Caitan nurse assured, a smile appearing on her face, “Their injuries are healing just fine.  They should be ready to return to the Bluefin in a day or so, but they’ll still only be able to do light duty for a week or so…”

“Hey, Chief…” Petty Officer Mitchell said in a soft voice as he looked up at his section supervisor standing by the bed, “Hear that?”

“Yeah.”  Chief Deryx responded, his lips turned up in the wide grin characteristic of his species, “I heard.  A week of lollygagging and goofing off for you.  How’s that any different than normal?”  He laughed good naturedly, “I end up having to go back and fix up all your frak-ups anyway.”

“I think that’s the lot of CPOs everywhere.”

On hearing the female voice, Deryx wheeled about to see two women: one, the ship’s doctor, a woman with Eurasian features wearing a sky blue medical coat over her standard uniform and the other, a petite blonde haired woman wearing the red and black of the command branch as well as the four pips of a captain on her collar.  Maintaining his grin, the chief replied, “Well, Sir…it’s a dirty job but…”
 

“But someone has to do it.”  Liz completed, flashing a grin of her own.  “I’m glad to see that you and your people are doing better, Chief.”  Her smile disappearing, she added in a consoling tone, “I’m just sorry we couldn’t save everyone.”

“Not your fault, Captain.”  Chief Deryx responded, his grin vanishing as well, “We’re just glad you’re here.”  Pausing for a moment, the Denobulan CPO ventured, “Sir?  When can we get back to the Bluefin?”

Turning to Dr. Murakawa, Captain Shelby nodded her head once, indicating to the doctor that she should speak.  “You and everyone other than the two that Ensign M’rral’s taking care of can go back whenever you’re ready.”

“But…before you go, Chief…” Liz interjected, “I’d appreciate it if you could help us out with a situation…”

“Of course, Captain.” The Chief replied; glad to return the favor done to him and his people by Captain Shelby and her crew, “What’s the problem?” 

“I understand that you’ve had quite a bit of experience with unexploded ordinance.”  Nodding her head in approval at the attentive look on the Denobulan chief’s face, Shelby continued, “Unfortunately, I’ve just recently lost my ordinance expert and I need someone to take a look at something we’ve just picked up.”

“I’ll be glad to do what I can, Sir.”  The Chief promptly responded, “What are we dealing with?”

“We picked up a little package that the Maquis left behind—a bomb.”  Shelby explained.  “We’ve beamed it into one of our ejectable labs and it’s behind a level nine quarantine and force field.  We also found three detonators on the thing…”

Nodding her head at the chief’s low whistle of appreciation, the captain continued, “It gets better.  We were able to neutralize two of the detonators—one set to go off on re-materialization and another with a timer, but we couldn’t get the third.”

“Do you know what type of detonator, Sir?”  The chief asked, his mind already taking in the possibilities.

“My science officer and acting tactical officer tell me that it’s key coded with rather intricate pathways…”

“How many keys?”

“Six.” Shelby immediately responded.

“Hmmmm…” The Chief murmured as he pondered the situation.  “Difficult…but not impossible.  Could I have a look at the package?”

“Of course.”  Liz smiled, “If you’ll accompany me, Dr. Murakawa will see about getting the rest of your people released and back to the Bluefin.”

“Lead on, Captain.  I’m all yours.”

*********************************************************************

Runabout Loire

“I don’t trust him.”  Larkin growled, gesturing with his thumb at Manuele who was at that moment sitting in the pilot’s seat of the runabout that he had stolen a few days ago from the Sutherland.  “He’s either Starfleet Intelligence or he’s a deserter.  In either case, he’s a risk.”
 

“You’re probably right.”  Sabrina Diaz, the head of the Maquis cell to which Larkin and Nura, the Bzzit Khaht seated next to him belonged as well as his lover, allowed as she swiveled her seat to face the dark haired former colonist.  “Still…if he is telling the truth about those medical supplies…”

“A lot of lives would be saved.”  Nura interjected.  Her lips turning up in a wicked grin, the leathery skinned woman added, “Besides, he’s cute.  It’d be a shame to space him.”

“So, Bri…what are we going to do with him?”  Larkin asked, leaning over the conference table to whisper his question into his lover’s ear.

“For now, nothing.”  Diaz decided, “Let’s see whether what he’s told us pans out and we’ll go on from there.”

“And if it does?”  Nura inquired.

“Then he gets to live and we’ll keep him with us.”  Seeing the dubious looks on her cell mate’s faces, she explained with a sly grin, “Remember the old saying: keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“Then…” Larkin replied with a dangerous frown, “…I plan to keep very close to Mr. Atoa.”

Licking her lips lasciviously, Nura chimed in with a seductive voice, “So do I.”

Pretending to ignore the fact that he was in all probability the topic of the animated conversation going on in the rear of the runabout, Manuele Atoa kept his attention on the console in front of him, his finger close to the button that would both disable the tiny craft’s systems and send out an emergency distress beacon to the Sutherland.  Not that it’ll do me any good. Manuele thought morosely.  By the time the Suthy gets back to me, I’ll be dead; but at least Diaz and her pals will be caught.  Hearing nothing now but hushed whispers, the New Kauaian risked a quick glance back to see Diaz flashing him a noncommittal grin, Larkin’s scowl, and, most distressing to the fire-dancer, a lascivious grin from Nura.  Quickly turning his attention back to his console, Manuele heaved a sigh of relief.  If they were going to space me…he conjectured inwardly…the Bzzit Khaht wouldn’t have given me that sort of look and Larkin would be the one with the big grin on his face.  So, Manny…the security specialist concluded…you’ve bought yourself a bit more time.  Lucky you.

******************************************************************

System M-294

“Gralt to McBride!”

Hearing the rumbling voice of the Bluefin’s chief engineer coming through his comm unit, Commander McBride quickly responded, “What is it, Mr. Gralt?”

“What in the infernal hells of the death god is Big Tits and her people doing in my engineering section?”  The crusty Tellarite demanded.

His lips turning up in a wry grin, the XO answered back in an amused voice, “You know why they’re here, Mr. Gralt.  They’re from the Sutherland, and they’re here to give us a hand.”

“You can tell them…” the engineer spat out, “…that they can go back to that party boat of theirs.  My people and I can do the job ourselves.  I don’t need a bunch of Regular Fleet Academy graduate know-it-all pansies frakking around with my frakking engines!”

Letting out a sigh of exasperation, Dale, shaking his head as he barely restrained himself from laughing, replied, “I’ll be down in a moment, Mr. Gralt.”  Turning his attention to the Trill engineer currently hunched over a damaged console along with the Bluefin’s Vulcan operations officer, both of them chuckling softly at some joke or other as they worked, Commander McBride’s laughter suddenly vanished as he cleared his throat, “Mr. Tol….”

On hearing his name, Jadon popped his head up, “Yes, Commander?” He replied, quickly clearing the smirk off his face as he saw the annoyed expression on the human’s face, “What’s up this time?”

“I need you to come with me to engineering.” The Texan declared, “It looks like your engineer and mine aren’t getting along too well.”

“They’re not?”  Jadon asked, somewhat surprised.  Then, taking on a protective posture, he questioned, “What’s the problem?  Treasure’s one of my best and the people with her know their stuff.”

“It’s not her or your people.” Dale responded quickly, this time with a conciliatory smile on his face, “Gralt’s just being territorial.  Come on…” The executive officer insisted, secretly thanking his testy engineer for giving him an excuse to get the smooth talking Trill away from T’Ser, “…let’s get going.”

“Meet you in the wardroom later, T’Ser.”  Jadon grinned as he turned back to the lovely Vulcan, “I’m looking forward to that fresh brewed coffee you’ve been going on about.”

“It’s a date.”  The olive skinned lieutenant replied, returning to her work as the two men exited the bridge.

**********************************************************************

“That’s it.”  Captain Shelby told Chief Deryx, jerking her head towards a cylindrical object resting in the middle of a chamber, the opening shimmering with the blue and yellow glow indicating the presence of a confinement field.  “It’s enclosed by a level nine quarantine field and this entire lab can be ejected if necessary.”

Glancing first in the direction of the door, and then at a dark skinned officer wearing gold and black and an elderly Vulcan male in blue and black standing behind a console in the middle of the room, the Denobulan chief petty officer noted with a grim expression, “Whatever’s in it must be pretty hot, then, Sir.”

“While we cannot be certain of that at this point…” Lieutenant Commander Varok interjected in his usual flat inflection, “…that would indeed be a logical supposition, Chief.”

Used to the more emotional and approachable T’Ser, it took Chief Deryx a few moments to readjust to the more typically Vulcan emotionless response of the elderly Vulcan.  “Uh…right, Sir.”  Turning to the captain, the Denobulan CPO requested, “Could I ask you to lower the field for a moment, Captain, so that I could get a closer look.”

“Or course, Chief.”  Liz replied with a single nod of the head to Lieutenant Dryer who then pressed a button, temporarily lowering the field.  Walking into the chamber as the shimmering vanished; Deryx felt the hairs on the back of his neck tingle as the field was restored once he’d passed over the threshold.  Approaching the cylinder, the ordinance expert first did a slow and careful walkaround, noting the opened access panel that revealed a display screen with six independent numerical displays.  Letting out a low whistle of appreciation as he knelt down in front of the display, the chief carefully inspected the panel, taking note first of the touchpad below the display screen and then of the myriad isolinear connections between the display pad and the detonator.

Standing up, the chief made his way back to the entrance of the chamber.  Pausing until the obsidian skinned Lieutenant Dryer could lower the forcefield, Chief Deryx walked back towards Captain Shelby.  “It’s a tough one, Sir.”  The Denobulan noncommissioned officer admitted, “Whoever designed this thing knew what they were doing.”  A slight, yet confident smile crossing his face, the chief continued, “But I can disarm it.”

“Are you sure?”  Liz carefully replied, sounding a cautionary note, “I won’t take any chances with the safety of this ship or its people, Chief Deryx.  If something goes wrong…” She warned, her eyes drifting to the eject button on Lieutenant Dryer’s console.

“I understand, Sir.”  Deryx responded, “But I know I can do it.”  His confident smile returning, he added, “Of course, I can do it much better if I had my tools.”

Chuckling as she nodded her head approvingly at the Chief’s quiet confidence, Liz retorted, “Don’t worry, Chief.  You’ll get those tools.  After all…” she joked, “…that’s what captains are here for—to make sure CPO’s have what they need to do their jobs.”

Laughing, Chief Deryx, his respect for Captain Shelby growing a bit more, quipped back, “That’s right, Sir.  Good to see there’s another captain who understands how things in the Fleet really work.”

*********************************************************************   

“Ah ain’t tryin’ to mess with how your flux ratios are calibrated, Sir!”  Ensign Angela Burrows exclaimed, valiantly attempting to hold her position against the dominating presence of the testy Tellarite lieutenant commander standing in front of her, staring at her with a menacing glare. “But I’ve got to take ‘em off line if I’m gonna replace those old isolinear relays of yours.”

“You’re godsdamned right you’re not!”  Lieutenant Commander Gralt bellowed back, secretly pleased at how the young ensign was standing her ground against him, “’Cause you snot-nosed kids aren’t getting anywhere near my engines!  My people can do the job just fine by themselves.”

“If’n you had enough time…yes, sir, you could.  But what about if the Maquis come back?”  Ensign Barrows persisted, “What about then?  Do you wanna take that chance?”

Hearing the southwestern sounding twang coming from the attractive and buxom young ensign standing toe to toe with his chief engineer, Dale McBride flashed his winningest smile to her as he interrupted in his Texas accent, “She’s got you there, Mr. Gralt.  I know the Captain would want us as ready as possible as soon as possible just in case something happens.”

“Mr. Gralt…” Lieutenant Commander Tol interrupted, coming to the defense of his subordinate, “Treasure’s one of my best people.  She knows better than to mess around with how another Chief Engineer has their engines tuned.  You don’t have to worry about her doing anything with your engines that you don’t want done.  From one chief engineer to another, I’m asking you to trust her.”

“That’s rich…” Gralt grumbled, “…now the prissy Trill asks me to trust Big Boobs with my engines.”  Turning his attention to Jadon, the Tellarite raised his voice as he jabbed the air with his finger, “Would you trust my people with your engines?”  Receiving no response from the other engineer, a smug grin appeared on Gralt’s face, “I thought so.”

“I’d be much obliged, Mr. Gralt…” Commander McBride interjected, attempting to resolve the situation diplomatically and without him pulling rank, “…if you’d do it as a favor to me.”

His regard for the Bluefin’s executive officer, combined with his respect for how well the young Sutherland engineer had held her cool under his verbal assault, finally making his decision for him, the Tellarite chief engineer nodded his head, “All right.  They can help.  But I’ll be watching everything they do—and if I decide they go—they go!”

“Fair enough.”  Dale agreed, thankful that the situation, for now at least, had been defused.

“You still want to work here, Treasure?”  Jadon turning to his subordinate, asked in a low voice.

“Yeah.”  The buxom young engineer answered back with a grin.  “He ain’t so bad, he’s just makin’ sure we understand that this is his turf, that’s all.  Now that that’s settled, I think we’ll get along just fine.”

Smiling as he heard the young ensign’s response, Commander McBride nodded his head subtly towards her, giving her a slight smile as he whispered in a low voice, “Very good, Ensign.  Good to see that Captain Shelby has officers with good horse sense.”

“All right.”  Tol replied as he turned back towards the exit, “I’ll let you get back to work then.”  Giving his Tellarite counterpart a glare, the Trill engineer added, “Just give me a call if you need me.”

“Thanks, Sir.”  Treasure responded.  Then, flashing the Bluefin’s XO a smile, she added, “An’ thank you too, Sir.”

“Anytime, Ensign.”  Dale said, returning the ensign’s grin.  “You need any help or anything—you just give me a holler.”

***********************************************************************

“What?”  Captain Akinola all but shouted once he heard about Chief Deryx’s request and the reason behind it.  “Who the hell does she think she is?  Putting my acting Chief of the Boat at risk without asking my permission!”  Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, Joseph carefully put down his pad as he turned to his operations officer, “Lieutenant T’Ser.”  The enraged captain ordered, “Tell the Sutherland that I’m beaming over there.  I’m going to personally deliver Chief Deryx’s tools to him and then I’m going to personally deliver a kick in the ass to Captain Shelby.”

Watching as her captain strode angrily off the bridge, the emotional Vulcan’s heaved a sigh of exasperation, “Irresistible force…” she quipped, “…get ready to meet immovable object.”

***********************************************************************

Rematerializing in the Sutherland’s transporter room, Captain Akinola was met by a man with neatly combed seal brown hair and steel grey eyes wearing commander’s pips on his collar.  Clearing his throat, Joseph spoke in a gravelly voice, “Permission to come aboard.”

Speaking with an upper-class patrician accent that immediately put off the Nigerian captain, the commander completed the age-old traditional ceremony.  “Permission granted, Sir.  I am Commander Hobson, the first officer.  “Welcome aboard the Sutherland, Captain Akinola.”

“Where is Captain Shelby?”  Akinola requested, clutching the case containing Chief Deryx’s tools in one hand as he stepped off the transporter pad.

“Captain Shelby is in Research Lab Three with Chief Deryx.” Hobson replied, maintaining the same stony expression on his face that he had when he first introduced himself to Captain Akinola.  “If you would accompany me, Sir, I will be glad to escort you to her.”

“By all means, Commander…” Joseph responded, “…lead the way.”

As he accompanied the Sutherland’s first officer down first one and then another wide corridor, Captain Akinola took in the bustle of activity on the much larger starship as crewmen and officers went to and fro about their activities.  Although fully aware of the crew compliment of a Nebula-class vessel, Joseph, curious as to how the poker-faced executive office would respond to his request, asked, “How many officers and ratings are aboard?”

“At the moment, we have 720 officers and crew, so we are thirty less than our full complement, Captain.  However, we anticipate that we’ll be back to full strength once we pick up new transferees at Deep Space Nine.”  Hobson immediately responded.

“How many officers and how many enlisted?”  Joseph persisted.

“319 commissioned officers, 198 warrant officers—including one cadet currently undergoing her senior cruise, and 203 enlisted.” The first officer answered back.

Captain Akinola, who had spent a good chunk of his career as an enlisted man and who still felt more comfortable with his CPO’s than he did with the commissioned officers under his command remarked with a snort, “Over two officers to every one enlisted—it’s a wonder you get any work done.”

Completely unfazed by the visiting captain’s somewhat derisive comment, Chris rejoined, his voice revealing just the faintest amount of calculated smugness in his response, “The Sutherland, like all explorer type vessels, must be ready to meet a wide range of challenges that most types of vessels generally don’t encounter in their normal routines.  As such, she requires a special crew uniquely qualified to meet those situations.  Rest assured, Sir that unlike the crews of ships in other branches of the fleet, the crew of the Sutherland is highly skilled, motivated, and well versed in a wide variety of subjects from the most mundane to the most esoteric.”  Savoring the look of chagrin on Captain Akinola’s face, the first officer nicknamed the Iceman by the Sutherland’s crew lived up to his moniker as his facial expression remained as bland as ever.  “Here we are, Sir…” Hobson announced, his nasal tone coming across even stronger, “Research Lab Three.”  Pressing a button to the side of the entrance, he gestured as the door slid open, “Captain Shelby and Chief Deryx are inside.  Now…if you’ll excuse me…I have other duties to attend to.”

Immediately spotting his acting Chief of the Boat, Captain Akinola called out as he held out the suitcase containing the CPO’s tools, “Chief?  I believe you said you needed these?”

Surprised at seeing his captain, Chief Deryx’s lips turned up into the wide grin characteristic of his species, “Thanks, Captain…although I’m surprised to see you here—I expected you’d send one of the ratings.”

“Captain.”  Liz interjected as she extended her hand.

“Captain Shelby.”  The white haired Nigerian responded coolly, sparing the petite blonde standing next to Chief Deryx a harsh glare as he briefly shook her hand.  Addressing his next remarks to his Chief of the Boat, Akinola continued, “I needed to speak to Captain Shelby anyway, so I figured I’d save time and just go ahead and bring ‘em to you, Chief.”  Pausing for a moment as he handed the tools over to his chief, Akinola spoke again, his voice echoing his concern and worry, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“All part of the job, Captain.”  Deryx answered back, maintaining his grin as he turned back to the blonde captain standing beside him, “Ready when you are, Captain Shelby.”

Returning Akinola’s baleful glare with a harsh look of her own, Liz addressed her security chief, “You can lower the forcefield now, Mr. Dryer.”  Gesturing towards the chamber containing the Maquis device, Liz continued, “Good luck, Chief.”

“Be back in a few.”  Deryx tossed back over his shoulder as he crossed the threshold, feeling the energy from the forcefield against the small of his back as it was once again activated.  Focusing all his attention on the object sitting in the middle of the room, the Denobulan explosive expert grinned, “All right, my friend, let’s see what’s inside you.”

Watching as his chief began to go to work on the device, Captain Akinola addressed his counterpart in a low, tough voice, “Captain, once my chief is done in here, we need to talk.”

Looking up into the stern face of the older man standing before her, a face that reminded her so much of the disapproving look that her father often gave her, Liz answered back in an equally low and challenging tone, “Don’t worry, Captain.  We will.”

**********************************************************************

“Thank you, Ketar…” Gul Rejak grinned as he read the report that his aide had just given him.  Setting the report down, he motioned the human who had just entered his office to one of the chairs opposite his desk.  “Have a seat, Dmitri!  I just received word from our ‘friend’ that Ayenga successfully delivered her package.  Even as we speak, Captain Shelby is probably attempting to have it defused and analyzed.”

“Good.”  The Syndicate liaison declared as he took the proffered seat.  “Now we wait and see whether Starfleet takes the bait or not.”

“It might already have…” Chuckling at the quizzical look on the human’s face, Rejak further elaborated, “While the battle was going on, Diaz’s raider was disabled.  Then, a Starfleet runabout warped into orbit and snatched both Diaz and her people taken prisoner on the border cutter away and warped out again.”

“You think whoever was on that runabout was a Starfleet plant?”

“Of course.”  The corrupt Cardassian grinned, “Wouldn’t you?”

“Then whoever that plant was, is dead now.”  Dmitri Cherenkov stated, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Not necessarily.”  Rejak demurred, shaking his head slightly as an amused chuckle escaped his lips.  “While I don’t doubt Diaz suspects him, she’ll probably lead him on for a while…to get whatever she can get out him while he’s doing the same to her.  Once she feels she’s gotten all she can, then…”

Laughing, Dmitri made a slashing motion across his throat as Rejak’s aide presented the native of Nova Terra with a glass filled with a clear liquid.  Taking a sip of the liquid, Dmitri grinned, “Not bad…Stolichnaya?”

Nodding his head, Rejak joined his associate in laughter.  “Yes.  Picked it up from a friend of a friend of a not so good friend.  But…” He said, his laughter vanishing, “…to get back to what we were talking about.  Yes, I’m afraid Diaz’s Starfleet plant does have a rather…limited…life expectancy—which works even more to our benefit.  Starfleet will be so focused on Diaz that they won’t see what is happening quite literally right under their noses.  And…once they realize what is going on…”

“Diaz will be the one to catch all the blame, while we take in all the profit.”  Cherenkov laughed as, downing all the vodka with one swallow he stood up, “My superiors will be pleased indeed, Gul Rejak.”

***********************************************************************

USS Sutherland

“Ok, my dear…” Chief Deryx muttered softly to the cylinder as, kneeling beside it, he opened the black valise containing his tools, “Let’s get to work.”  Taking out the microscanner that his section had once chipped in to buy him on his tenth anniversary in the Service, the explosives expert passed it over first the keyboard display and then between it and the detonator.  “There you are.” He remarked in an almost affectionate tone as, taking a marker, he carefully cut a square pattern on the cylinder.   Next, he took out the laser torch given to him by Chief Akinola on the day of his betrothal to his third wife.  Adjusting the torch to its finest setting, the Denobulan CPO cut along the pattern, making sure not to disturb the exposed isolinear relays behind the keyboard as the beam sliced through the device’s outer shell.

As his audience watched, their facial expressions a mixture of nervous tension and fascinated curiosity, a slight grin crossed Chief Deryx’s face.  It wasn’t often he got to practice his craft before a Regular Fleet audience, especially in front of someone with the reputation of Captain Shelby, and he delighted in the opportunity to show to them just how capable and competent those in the ‘Junior’ Service in fact were.  Tracing the first lead, the chief took out his micro-solder and made the connection, his smile growing wider as a green light lit below the first display.  “One down…” the chief muttered softly, “…five to go.”

“Not bad…” Lieutenant Dryer commented in a soft whisper as she saw the first green light appear.  “He’s got a deft touch…that’s for sure.”

Looking on with a mixture of pride and concern at his chief, Joseph nodded his head as he murmured, “Careful, Deryx…careful…I don’t want to have to write your wives and tell them you died showing off.”

***********************************************************************

Persis IV

Lying face down on a marble slab, the very corpulent Ahmet Ershak groaned in satisfaction as his Bajoran slave masseuse kneaded a kink in the muscles in the back of his neck.  “That’s good, my lovely…” The green Orion, for now in a good mood, murmured as the woman went to work on his back, “I think I might just allow you that play-pretty that I’ve been noticing you’ve been eyeing.”  Chuckling as he imagined his slave’s reaction, Ershak remarked, “You didn’t think I noticed, did you, my pet?  You should know by now that I see and hear everything around me.”  Turning his head towards where one of his two bodyguards, a red Orion, stood, Ershak joked, “Isn’t that right, Sylak?”

“Yes, Ahmet.”  The burly guard affirmed.

“Heh.”  Ershak laughed, “No sense of humor!  But then…” he jibed as he tilted his head towards the Nausicaan standing guard on the other side, “…that’s not what I have you and Kadrak here for.”

As the young Bajoran woman began working her way down the Ahmet’s legs, the door chime rang.  Looking at Sylak, Ershak jerked his head towards the door.  Nodding his head once in understanding, the red Orion approached the door.  Pressing a button next to the door, the bodyguard activated a one way window permitting those within the room to see who was on the other side.  Speaking into a comm unit, Sylak nodded once before turning back to his employer.  “Dular says that the Ferengi Torq craves an audience with the Ahmet.  Shall I send him away, Sire?”

After momentarily considering just having his petitioners tossed out, the Orion crime boss changed his mind, “No.  Torq has been useful in the past.  I suppose it’s worth hearing what the little mud troll has to say before I have you and Kadrak toss him and his friends out.  Have Dular escort them to the Lesser Audience Chamber and I shall be there shortly.  And…”  He added with a touch of menace in his voice, “…tell them that this better be important.”  Reluctantly rising up to a seated position, Ershak leered as he patted his Bajoran slave on the rump as the woman giggled.  “And I shall meet you, Talysa, in my quarters later.”

***********************************************************************

“How long is he going to keep us waiting in this antechamber, Torq?” Lom, a Ferengi with smaller than normal lobes who acted as the alpha Ferengi’s valet asked, already cringing from his superior’s expected cuff on the cheek.

Not disappointing his inferior, Torq responded with a backhand across the sniveling Ferengi’s face as he growled, flashing sharp canines, “He’ll keep us waiting here as long as he wants us to.  Now shut up!”

Inwardly amused at the antics of the Ferengi trio waiting to see his employer, Dular, a plump Bolian who served as the Ahmet’s major domo, easily maintained a placid expression on his face. Seeing the green light over the main entrance flash, Dular announced in a deliberately bombastic tone as the door slid open, “The Ahmet will see you now.  Follow me.”

Following behind the portly Bolian, the three Ferengi were led up to where the Ahmet sat behind a desk.  Bowing their heads respectfully as they knelt, Torq ventured to speak for the trio, “I thank you, Ahmet for allowing us to speak with you.”

“Yes, yes…I’m sure…” Ershak responded somewhat impatiently as he cut a piece of Orion kannas melon with a jeweled dagger.  “So…why are you here, Torq?  If it’s because the Nausicaans are muscling in on your trade, I’ve already told you that it’s your problem.”

“No, Sire!”  The Ferengi sniveled as he scrambled up off his knees.  “It’s…I…we thought you might like to know that Pierson has hired on a red Orion…”

Chuckling, the Ahmet replied in an indulgent tone, “I already know that, Torq.  However…” Ershak remarked, his laughter vanishing to be replaced with a dangerous frown, “…it was poor manners of that Orion not to present himself to me first.  Not that I would have hired him…” the crime boss quickly added, “…but it is tradition.  Plus…Pierson has been acting more…independent…of late.  Perhaps I should pay him a visit.”  Turning towards his Nausicaan bodyguard, the Ahmet quipped, “What do you think, Kadrak, would you like to say hello to S’nurl?”  Laughing at his taciturn bodyguard’s growl, Ershak turned his attention back to the three Ferengi cowering before him.  Sighing, he dismissed the trio, “Very well, Torq.  You’ve delivered your message and in return I’ll forgo the pleasure of watching Sylak and Kadrak toss you out.  You may go.”

Mumbling their thanks as they slunk away, Torq and his friends retraced their steps out of the audience chamber.  Shushing his companions to silence until they had safely left the Orion’s manse, Torq turned to the whining Lom, demanding as he drew back his hand, “What is it?”

“I don’t understand, Torq.  Why did we go to the Ahmet?  Why didn’t you just let Beln shoot him when he had the chance?”

Slapping the weaker Ferengi’s frontal lobes with his hand, Torq replied, “That is why you will be nothing more than my valet, Lom.  Rule number 168: Whisper your way to success.  By letting Ahmet Ershak do the work, he takes all the risk while we can only turn a profit.”  Seeing the confused look on his subordinate’s face, the older Ferengi sighed, “At the worst, we gain the Ahmet’s gratitude—something we might be able to cash in on later.  At best, we stand to pick up pieces from Pierson’s profits once the Ahmet has had his full.  Either way…we profit.”

***********************************************************************

USS Sutherland

As beads of perspiration formed on his forehead, what had started out as a fairly easy task for the Denobulan explosives expert had become a much more intricate—and dangerous—puzzle as he tried to isolate the right isolinear pathway for the fifth key code.  Pausing for a moment, Chief Deryx took a deep breath.  Looking up, he saw the worried looks of Captains Akinola and Shelby and Lieutenant Dryer.  While Varok appeared to maintain his typical Vulcan stoicism, the sage chief thought he saw the faintest glimmer of concern in the eyes of the elderly science officer.  His lips turning up into a wide grin, the chief called out reassuringly, “It’s ok!  I’m just taking a breather.”

“Take your time, Chief!”  Akinola shouted back, putting on a bold front as well.  Turning towards Captain Shelby, the white haired Nigerian whispered angrily, “He shouldn’t be doing this in the first place.”

Whispering back, Shelby retorted, her voice dripping ice, “If you have a problem, Captain, we’ll talk about it later.”

Not wanting to air dirty laundry in front of Shelby’s crew, Joseph, memories of his estranged daughter, approximately the same age of the petite blonde standing beside him flooding his mind, nodded his head once as he murmured in a barely audible voice, so low that only his counterpart could hear, “You’re damned right we will.”

The look in Akinola’s eyes reminding Liz of that same disapproving look her father had given her on all too many occasions, Shelby, determined on having the last word, responded challengingly, “Fine.  I’m looking forward to it.”

Unaware of the growing tensions between the two captains, Chief Deryx returned to his work.  “Ah…there you are!”  The chief cooed lovingly as he spotted the circuit pathway he was looking for.  “Whoever made you hid you well.”  He remarked as he saw how the proper circuits wended and weaved their way through several misleading and false trails—any one of which had the chief traced activated that connection—would have resulted in an immediate detonation.  “But I’ve got you now.”  He exclaimed as he activated the correct pathway.  Seeing the fifth green light flash on, Deryx declared triumphantly to his audience, “One more!”

“Last one…” Nyota muttered, watching, along with the others, in rapt fascination as the Denobulan explosives expert began the laborious project of tracing out the last pathway.  “Man gets this one…I’m buying him whatever he wants to drink at ‘Ricks’.”

“Better have a lot of credits, then…” Captain Akinola joked in a gruff tone as he glanced in the direction of the obsidian skinned lieutenant standing next to him, her Swahili accent immediately catching the white haired Nigerian’s attention, “…’cause Chief Deryx can put away the beer.”

“We get through this ok, Sir…” Nyota replied, flashing a toothy grin, “…he’ll have earned it.”

“Amen to that.”  Joseph whispered as he said a silent prayer for his old friend.

“Damn!” Chief Deryx swore, his voice a harsh whisper as he studied the flashing circuitry before him.  “They just had to save the best for last.” Taking out his micro-scanner, the chief passed it over first one linked isolinear and then the other, taking note of the different colors given off by the data streams as they raced from one relay to another.  Finally, through a laborious process of elimination, he had managed to isolate three possible pathways.  “Which one?”  The Chief asked himself as he stared at the pale blue, red, and yellow beams.  “Which one’s going to deactivate you and which one’s going to set you off?” As he weighed his options, Deryx’s comm badge chirped, soon followed by Captain Shelby’s voice.

“Everything Ok, Chief?”

Tapping his badge in response, the Denobulan responded.  “I’m not sure, Sir.” The chief answered honestly, “I’ve cleared out all the obvious traps, and even a bunch that were really well hidden, but I couldn’t get rid of them all.  There are three possibilities left.  One’ll disable the device.  But the other two…”

Seeing where the chief was headed with his thoughts, Liz interjected sympathetically, “Understood, Chief” Pausing for a moment, the blonde captain added encouragingly, “Is there anything we can do from our end to possibly cut the odds down?”

As he ran one after another scheme in his mind, rejecting each one in turn, the chief had almost given up hope until, struck by sudden inspiration, his lips turned up into a wide grin, “Yeah, Captain, there is!  I need you to flood the chamber with polaron radiation…”

“Polaron radiation?  Are you crazy, Chief?”  Captain Akinola exploded, “You know that exposure to polaron radiation is lethal to humanoids!”

“Only if it is in high concentrations or for an extended period of time.”  Lieutenant Commander Varok interjected in his typically Vulcan level tone.  Addressing Chief Deryx, the Sutherland’s science officer surmised, “There are only two logical reasons for using polaron radiation.  Either you suspect the presence of a Changeling, a highly unlikely possibility, or, you suspect that there is a cloaked pathway.”

“Exactly!”  Deryx grinned.  “Whoever built this thing knows his or her craft.  Each consecutive key has been harder and harder with the fifth one being especially tough.  Now…three to one odds might seem like a tough choice, but…there’s still a thirty three percent chance I’d get the right one—and that’s assuming I just simply guess—which I wouldn’t,” he added smugly.  “I’ll bet a box of Ferengi-seed Churchills that the bomb maker wanted to be sure his baby went off…so…”

“So he cloaks the real pathway.” Liz interrupted, completing the chief’s statement.  “Damn.  The only way Diaz could have gotten something this sophisticated is either through an intelligence agency like the Tal’Shiar or…”

“The Orion Syndicate.”  Akinola declared.  “They’ve got the money to buy one.”

“Either suggestion is a logical possibility.”  Varok concurred, adding, “However, we cannot be sure without further investigation.”

“Which’ll have to wait until later.”  Captain Shelby concluded.  Her decision made, she then turned towards her tactical officer standing next to her.  “Nyota…flood the chamber with polaron radiation, .001 parts per million.”  Pausing for a moment, she then contacted her CMO, “Dr. Murakawa.  I need you down here in Lab Three pronto and bring something for polaron radiation exposure.”  Nodding her head in satisfaction at the doctor’s rapid response, Liz turned towards her acting tactical officer, nodding her head once.

“Aye, Captain.’  Lieutenant Dryer moved to comply as the Nigerian captain standing on the opposite side of her gritted his teeth.  “.001 parts per million.”

“Not good enough.”  Chief Deryx called back as he shook his head, “You’re going to have to boost it up.”

Acknowledging Captain Shelby’s silent nod of her head, Lieutenant Dryer announced, “.002 parts per million.”

“How high can he go before the radiation hits lethal levels and how long can he stay in there until he’s exposed to too much?”  A concerned Joseph inquired.

“It depends on the concentration.”  A strange female voice responded.  Turning towards the source of the voice, Captain Akinola saw a woman with Eurasian features and wearing a blue with black trim service uniform enter the lab, carrying a satchel under her arm. “I’m Doctor Denise Murakawa,” she said by way of introduction.  Glancing down at Lieutenant Dryer’s console, she took note of the readings, “At current levels, Chief Deryx has five minutes before he receives a lethal dosage.  For every .001 part per million increase, the maximum safe duration would decrease by half.”

Exhaling as the suspect pathway still refused to reveal its presence, Deryx once again called for an increase.  “.003 parts per million.”  Nyota called back, “You’ve got two and half minutes, Chief.”

Seeing what appeared to be thin filaments of light flickering before his eyes, Chief Deryx called out, “Take it up another notch, we’re almost there!”

“You’re cutting it too close, Chief.”  Captain Akinola replied, “I can’t let you do it.”

“It’s not your call to make, Captain!” Shelby interjected in a harsh tone.  Cutting off all further debate, Liz turned her attention back to the Denobulan, asking, “Are you sure, Chief?”

“We’re wasting time, Captain!”  Deryx quickly responded.

“Right.” Liz answered back, turning to Nyota as she ignored Captain Akinola’s vigorous shaking of his head, “Do it, Lieutenant.”

“.004 parts per million, Captain”

“One minute fifteen seconds before lethal dosage levels reached.”  Varok announced as Dr. Murakawa, opening her satchel, immediately took out a hypospray and loaded it with a vial containing an amber liquid.

“Hyronolin.”  Dr. Murakawa explained as she made ready to move into action.

Sweating as he squinted his eyes, Chief Deryx saw the pale luminescent traces once again appear, only this time to remain.  Taking out his micro-laser, the Denobulan whispered smugly, “Got you now.”

“One minute.”

Ignoring the Vulcan science officer’s monotone announcement, Deryx applied his laser at the first isolinear juncture, gently isolating it from the rest of the network.  Moving quickly, the chief moved to the next relay as Mr. Varok’s voice once again filled the chamber.

“Forty seconds.”

“Almost there.”  The chief muttered as he severed the second link in the chain.  Moving to the final relay, Deryx wielded his micro-laser with a jewelers—or a surgeon’s—skill as he cut the last connection.  “Done!”  He shouted as he rose to his feet only to collapse to the deck as soon as he did so.

“Get rid of that radiation!”  Liz ordered, Lieutenant Dryer already anticipating her captain’s orders.

“Radiation level falling.”  Varok declared.  “.003…002…001…Zero.”

“Chief!”  Joseph cried out as he lunged towards the chamber only to be restrained by Dr. Murakawa’s hand on his arm.

“He’ll be alright, Sir.”  The Japanese-Centauran doctor both pleaded and consoled, “Please…let me do my job.”

Seeing the imploring look in the young woman’s eyes, the protective captain relented.  Turning to Captain Shelby, he demanded, “Get that field down—Now!”

Seeing Varok’s single nod of his head, Captain Shelby addressed her tactical officer, “Do it.”

The moment she saw the energy field disappear, Dr. Murakawa rushed into the chamber where the Denobulan chief lay.  Pressing the hypospray against his neck, the doctor injected the hyronolin compound into his system as she, with the assistance of Captain Akinola, pulled Deryx out of the chamber.  Running her medical tricorder over his body, Denise nodded her head in satisfaction.  “He’ll be ok,” she explained, “I’m going to beam him over to sickbay with me to run some tests to be sure, but, barring something unusual, he should be fit for light duty in a few hours.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Joseph replied in a soft voice, “I think I know now what Morgan sees in you.”

 Blushing, Denise stammered shyly, “Th…thank you, Sir.”  Recovering her equilibrium as she received her captain’s confirmation, Dr. Murakawa activated her comm badge.  “Two to transport to sickbay.”

Watching as her doctor and Chief Deryx disappeared in a blue glow, Captain Shelby turned towards her science officer, “Get your people on this, Mr. Varok.  I want to know what we’re dealing with and I want to know as soon as possible.”  Taking the Vulcan’s single nod of his head as acknowledgment of her instructions, Liz then addressed her fellow captain, “Captain Akinola?  If you’ll follow me, we’ll have our discussion in my ready room.”

“By all means, Captain.”  Joseph bit back, “Lead the way.”

********************************************************************

Interlude: Deep Space Nine

“The Sutherland has taken the border cutter Bluefin in tow and should arrive sometime within the next forty-eight hours.”  Captain Benjamin Sisko announced to his senior staff seated around the conference table for the morning briefing.  “You’ll need to coordinate with the Bluefin’s chief engineer when they get in Chief so that they can get up and running as soon as possible.”

“We’ll be ready, Captain.”  The burly Irish station chief of operations declared confidently.

“You’ll also need to get with both ships’ security chiefs as well, Constable Odo.”  Sisko stated, giving his changeling chief of security a knowing glance, “It appears that Diaz’s Maquis cell has been especially active recently.”  Taking the shapeshifter’s single nod of his head as acknowledgment, Benjamin continued his briefing.  “Also, Commander…Doctor…” he instructed, now addressing the raven haired Trill seated next to Lieutenant Commander Worf and Dr. Bashir seated across from them, “…I want the two of you to get with Captain Shelby and her science officer.  From her latest subspace transmission, it appears that they’ve picked up what might be a biological weapon the Maquis left behind.”

“Understood, Captain.”  Dax immediately responded, the gravity of her voice and facial expression immediately indicating that the normally lighthearted Trill fully appreciated the seriousness of the situation.  “I’ll get with Mr. Varok as soon as possible after the Sutherland gets in.”

“And I’ll do the same with Doctor Murakawa…” Julian chimed in.

“Good.”  Benjamin replied, nodding his head in satisfaction.  “Now…if there’s nothing else…” he stated, standing up, “…then…dismissed.”  Clearing his throat as the officers gathered around the table stood up, Benjamin requested, “Mr. Worf…Chief…could you stay for a moment?  I need to ask a favor of the two of you.”

“Of course, Captain.”  Both men answered back in unison as they resumed their seats.

“See you later, Ben…” Jadzia smiled over her shoulder as she made her way towards the door, “I better warn Quark to stock up the bar and spruce up the holosuites if the Sutherland’s coming in.

“And I better check on the condition of my holding cells.”  Odo added grumpily as he followed the Trill science officer out the door.

Walking over to the replicator, Benjamin, ordering a cup of raktajino, picked it up.  Blowing the smoke off the steaming cup, Sisko looked down at the two men seated before him.  “Gentlemen...Lieutenant Sito is coming in on tomorrow’s mid-morning shuttle from Bajor.  She’ll be staying here until she reports aboard the Sutherland.”  Seeing the looks of concern and anticipation on the faces of his two officers, the Emissary’s lips turned up in a warm smile, “I was thinking that it would be good for her to see a pair of familiar faces when she arrives.”

“I’ll be glad to be there, Sir.”  Miles immediately piped up.  “Keiko’s on the station for the next few weeks—I’m sure she’ll be happy to see her and make her feel at home.”

“It will be good…” the taciturn Klingon warrior replied somewhat more guardedly, “…to see Lieutenant Sito again.”

“Excellent!”  Benjamin exclaimed, his smile growing wider, his body language indicating to the two officers that they were now dismissed, “I appreciate your help. Good day, Gentlemen.”  As the Irish engineer and Klingon strategic operations officer filed out of his office, Benjamin looked out the giant picture window into the starry night.  I hope they know what they’re doing letting her back now. He thought pensively as he stroked his goatee.  If they’re not—then this is a disaster in the making.

********************************************************************

Persis IV

“How’s my favorite terrorist?”  Pierson quipped with a wink and a lopsided grin as he recognized the image of his ex-wife on the monitor atop his desk.

“Ducking and covering.”  Miriam riposted with a smile of her own.  Her grin vanishing, she continued, “I got the info you wanted.”

“Go ahead.”  Pierson urged, sitting up straighter in his seat.

“Your man Tabar Estak is really Senior Chief Solly Brin, lately of the USS Bluefin…”

“A Border Dog, then.”  Pierson exclaimed as he fingered the scar on his cheek, “I knew it!”  Leaning forward in his chair, the ex-Starfleeter inquired, “Got anything else on him…”

“Yeah…” Miriam answered back, “You got a few moments…”

“Got nothing but time, babe…” Pierson responded as he leaned back in his seat, “Tell me all about it.”

*********************************************************************

Emerging from his office after finishing a conversation with his ex-wife that ended up part information trading, part witty byplay, and a part flirtation, Pierson walked back towards the bar behind which stood Dak, watching carefully as Solly arrived with the girls and Alain.  Taking note of green Orion woman’s disheveled appearance, the burly barkeep remarked to his boss, “Looks like Alena’s had a time of it.”

“Yeah, and she’s tripping too.”  Pierson noted sourly.  Drawing closer to the bartender, the roguish ex-Starfleet officer whispered, “That’s not important now though.  Look…we were right about our new friend—he’s Starfleet…”

“I knew it!”  Dak spat out.  “So…who is he and what do we do about him?”

However, before Pierson could continue the conversation, his Gorn bouncer S’nurl appeared at the door, touching his nose with his finger.  Recognizing the prearranged signal, Lynn shook his head, “Later Dak.  We’ve got company.”  Watching as Ahmet Ershak strode confidently into the bar, his two bodyguards hovering protectively on either side of him, Lynn plastered an insincere smile on his face as the green Orion approached him.  “Ahmet Ershak.”  The ex-Starfleet officer greeted in a polite voice, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
 

Smiling an equally phony grin, Ershak answered back with a chuckle, “I just came by to see my old friend, Lynn!”  The lecherous Orion leered as his eyes fell upon the green Orion woman who had just arrived with her escort, “Ah…Alena looks like she’s a bit…tired…”

“She’s had a busy day…” Pierson retorted, earning an appreciative chuckle from the Ahmet. “But I’m sure if you give her the chance to freshen up and rest a bit…”

“Heh…it’s tempting, my friend…but I’m afraid I must decline.”  His laughter disappearing quickly, Ershak commented in a matter of fact manner, his lips turned down in a disapproving frown as his eyes focused in on Solly, “I see that my sources were right that you’ve acquired the services of a new employee…an Orion.” 

Seeing where the conversation was headed, Lynn answered flatly, “Yes…a bushak.  His name is Tabor Estak.  I didn’t think you would mind if I added on a bit of additional muscle—as you know, business has picked up in recent months thanks to the war.”

The insincere grin once again on his face, Ershak replied in a voice that was both patronizing and condescending, “Lynn…Lynn…I’m not angry at you.  After all, you’re just zahkin…non-Orion…how could I expect you to have any real conception of respect and tradition.  “But your man…” he continued, his smile vanishing as his countenance took on a subtly dangerous look, “…he should have known better.  He should have come by to see me first…to pay his respects.  By failing to do so, he has rendered to me an insult.” 

As the Syndicate boss made his pronouncement, the tension in the immediate area grew even more intense as S’nurl and Ershak’s Nausicaan bodyguard glared at each other, each one issuing to the other a non-verbal challenge.  Dak, under the pretense of putting away his glasses, quietly moved his hands closer to the disruptor carbine he kept under the bar.  Solly, for his part, had been quietly observing the situation while appearing to be escorting the women under his charge towards a corner table.  Immediately sizing up the opposition, the burly red Orion had already planned his attack as he casually slipped into a positioned himself behind the table so that, if worst came to worst, he could quickly flip it over for use as temporary cover.  As he discreetly waved Alena and Bala back, he clearly heard Ershak’s next words, “Where is your new man?  I would like to meet him and ask him why he was so disrespectful.”

“Tabor!”  Pierson called out, immediately spotting Solly in his defensive position.  “Come here.  There’s someone who wants to meet you.”  Pierson commanded, keeping his new employee in his steady gaze, nodding his head once as S’nurl flashed the Nausicaan an especially toothy predatory grin while Dak, his hands still under the table, seemed to the experienced Bluefin chief to be focusing his attention on Ershak’s other bodyguard.

Taking the non-verbal cues of Pierson and his henchmen as signs of support, Solly strode confidently forward, pausing and, reluctantly, lowering his head respectfully as he came into Ershak’s presence.  Remaining silent, as per custom, the red Orion waited patiently until Ershak chose to speak.  “Tabor Estak.”  The Ahmet began, shaking his head disapprovingly, “You come to my home…and yet you do not render the respect that is my due.  Can you give me any reason as to why I should forgive you this insult to my name and honor?”

Even though the words coming to his lips tasted of the sharpest bile, Solly forced them out while at the same time barely managing to maintain his deferential pose, “Please…Ahmet…I beg your forgiveness.  I had almost literally just arrived on Persis IV when I was first offered employment by Mr. Pierson.  It was not my intention to dishonor or insult your Lordship.  Kneeling down, Solly, bent his head down in a submissive gesture while at the same time keeping his right hand close to the concealed phaser tucked under his shirt.  “Please…” the fierce red Orion pleaded, “…permit me to make whatever amends you desire me to make…”

Nodding his head in satisfaction at Brin’s act of contrition, Ershak announced in a magnanimous voice, “Your apology, Tabor Estak, has been accepted.  I will decide later how you may make amends for your transgression.  For now, though, I will accept as compensation your salary from the moment you entered Pierson’s employment to the present.”

Offering the latinum in his purse, Solly completed the formula of contrition, “Please accept this, Ahmet, as partial atonement for my disobedience.”

Taking the gold pressed latinum, Ershak handed it to his red Orion bodyguard.  Addressing both Solly and Pierson, the Syndicate boss declared in a solemn voice, “Honor for now has been restored.  Let there be peace and commerce between us.”  Turning his attention to Solly, Ershak commanded disdainfully, “You may leave our presence now.”  Watching as Brin walked back towards the two nervously watching prostitutes, Ershak’s lips turned up into a smile as he patted Pierson on the shoulder, signaling his bodyguards that the situation, for now at least, had been resolved.  “Well, Lynn…now that that has been taken care of, I want you to send me your most recent account entries.  Seeing that business has indeed improved for you, I think it might be necessary to revise your monthly tribute.”  Laughing heartily as he gestured for his bodyguards to accompany him, the Ahmet turned towards the door.  “Take care of yourself, Lynn…and next time you speak to her…” the green Orion added with just the faintest hint of menace in his voice, “…tell your wife I said hello.”

The two humans watching as S’nurl escorted the Ahmet and his escorts to the door, Dak whispered, “Told you the new guy was nothing but trouble.”

His face growing crimson in anger at the veiled threat to his wife, Pierson grunted, “Perhaps, but I’m going to make sure that he’s even more trouble for someone else.  Tell ‘Estak’ when he gets done getting the girls settled in that I want to see him in my office.  I’m going to make him an offer that he’s not going to want to refuse.”

“Yeah?  What are you going to offer him, Boss?”  Dak asked curiously.

“The best kind of offer.”  Pierson answered grimly as he fingered his scar, “Revenge.”

**********************************************************************

USS Sutherland

As the two captains walked down the corridors of the Sutherland, Captain Akinola once again shook his head at the sight of the sheer number of crew going to and fro about their tasks on the Nebula-class starship. 

Inwardly amused at the border cutter skipper’s reaction to the size of her ship, Liz smirked, “It is big, isn’t it?”

Shaking his head, Joseph replied, “Too big.  On my ship, I know the name of every officer and crewman.”  Pausing for a moment, the older man gave the petite blonde standing next to him a challenging look, “Can you say the same thing?”

Matching the dark skinned Nigerian glare for glare, Liz responded, “Of course not.  That’s not my job…”

“Not your job?”  Akinola interjected in an incredulous voice, but before he could continue the rant that was on his lips, the younger captain steamrollered over him.

“That’s right.  That’s the job of their section heads who report to their department heads who report to the First Officer.  My job is to command this ship to the best of my ability—not to develop a close personal relationship with all 750 plus officers and ratings on it.”  Stopping for a moment to take a breath, Shelby concluded, “That’s a luxury that unfortunately I cannot afford.”  Deciding to throw the visiting captain a bone, Liz hastily added, “If it makes you feel any better, I did know everyone on the Reed.  But then…” she emphasized, “…that ship only had a crew of a hundred and ninety unlike…”  However, before she could finish her sentence, the blonde captain, spotting an inattentive ensign on a collision course towards her, quickly stepped to the side, avoiding the brunt of the collision as the stack of padds he was carrying in his hands tumbled down to the deck.

“I’m sorry, Sir…” The ensign stammered as he knelt down to pick up the stack of padds, “…I was trying to get these to Mr. Rysyl before 1330 hours and…”

“That’s all right, Ensign...”  Captain Shelby grinned as she knelt down to help the athletic and toned chocolate skinned young human. 

“Goli, Sir.”  The ensign smiled back shyly, “Chunderban Goli.”

“Well, Ensign Goli…” Liz admonished good humouredly as she helped the young officer to his feet, “…you better hurry if you’re going to make that 1330 appointment.”

“Aye, Sir.”  The ensign responded as he dashed down the corridor.

“And that Captain…” Liz remarked with a smug grin, “…is how it is done.”  Quickly banishing the lascivious thoughts that crossed her mind as she gazed on the retreating form of Ensign Goli, Liz immediately spotted the disapproving glower on her fellow captain’s face in her peripheral vision.  “Contrary to what you might have heard, Captain Akinola, I don’t screw the crew.” The petite captain muttered sotto voce as the ensign disappeared into the turbolift.

“I didn’t say anything, Captain.” Akinola responded in a low gruff voice that betrayed nothing of his true feelings.

“Good.”  Liz tersely replied as the pair entered the turbolift.  “Bridge.”

*******************************************************************

As the turbolift door opened, the two captains stepped on to the bridge of the Nebula-class starship.  His alert eyes quickly taking in the bustle of disciplined activity, Captain Akinola raised an eyebrow.  Noticing the gesture, Liz chuckled inwardly as she addressed her first officer, “Commander Hobson?”

“Sir?”

“I’ll be in my ready room with Captain Akinola.  Once the Bluefin is ready, take her under tow and set course for Deep Space Nine.”

“Aye, Captain.”  The punctilious first officer acknowledged as his captain escorted her guest to her office.

Waiting until the two captains were safely out of the way, Ensign Django leaned over and whispered in the ear of her lover, Sam Lavelle, “So…that’s the sangue bom in charge of that old rustbucket.” 

“I wouldn’t be so quick about calling it a ‘rustbucket’.”  Sam whispered back, “From what I’ve been told, they’ve juiced the impulse engines on those things so much that you’ve got to be pretty damned good to pilot one of ‘em.”

“Looking to transfer over to the Border Babies?”  Maria teased.

“No way!”  The dark haired Canadian helmsman retorted, “I’ll stick to the real fleet, thank you very much!”

Before Ensign Django could respond, the sound of a throat clearing followed by Commander Hobson’s patrician voice immediately got the attention of the two young officers, “You may engage the tractor beam now, Misters Lavelle and Django and make for Deep Space Nine at warp three…that is if the two of you can tear yourselves away from your conversation long enough.”

“Aye, Sir.”  Both officers at once acknowledged, Lavelle’s face flushing red with embarrassment as he turned his attention to his helm.

**********************************************************************

Entering his fellow captain’s ready room, Captain Akinola shook his head at both its size and luxurious furnishing.  Sniffing at the sight of the wood paneled bulkhead and luxuriously padded black leather couch with plush pillows at either end, the paintings hanging above the couch immediately caught the old skipper’s eye, especially the painting prominently displayed in the center.  As he examined the craggy face, alert eyes, and determined expression of Robert Wesley, captured as he was when he sat in the center chair of the Lexington, the Nigerian captain felt an instant kinship to the legendary commodore. Wander what he would think of how his granddaughter turned out?  The parent in Joseph asked himself, only to have the Starfleet officer inside him chide, Joseph…you’re no prude and you know better than to rush to judgment.  So far, all she’s done is step on your toes a bit.

Watching with curiosity as her guest studied the painting of her grandfather, Liz remarked in a wistful voice, “My grandfather.  He died before I was born.  I wish I had the opportunity to get to know him.”

The dull ache in his heart growing sharper as he was reminded of his own grandson, whom he had yet to lay eyes on, Akinola turned towards Shelby, seeing her with new eyes.  No longer seeing the wanton woman that he had pictured her in his mind as being, he saw instead a little girl who missed her grandfather as much as he was even now missing his grandson.  His lips turning up into a sad smile, he replied, “I understand.  I’m a grandfather myself.”

“You must be proud.” Liz responded, motioning for Joseph to take a seat on the couch.  Her eyes falling on the replicator niche on the other wall, she inquired, “Would you like something to drink?  I’m for coffee myself.”

“No, thank you.” the Bluefin skipper replied as he sat down on the plush couch.    

Returning a few moments later with a cup of steaming hot coffee, the blonde captain grinned, “That’s right, I’ve heard you don’t like replicated foods.”  Chuckling at the look of distaste on her fellow captain’s part, Shelby began to relax as she leaned against her desk, “I understand how you feel.  Personally, I prefer the real thing myself, but…” she shrugged.  Her laughter dying down, the impish look on the young captain’s face became replaced a much more serious, almost apologetic expression.  “Look, Captain…I think I know why you’re here…Chief Deryx—right?” Taking the Nigerian cutter skipper’s single nod of the head as assent, Liz continued, “That’s what I figured.  Understand, Captain Akinola, I’m not sorry for using him.  I needed an unexploded devices expert and your Chief Deryx was already on the Sutherland and willing to do the job.  As senior captain here…”

“Senior captain?”  Joseph responded, his bad temper restored by the younger captain’s words.  “Captain Shelby…I was probably wearing four pips while you were wearing two—maybe even one…”

“All right…that was probably a bad choice of words on my part.”  Liz interjected quickly, “But, the simple truth of the matter is that my ship is the tactically superior vessel…” she trailed off, knowing full well that the captain now glowering at her was fully aware of the appropriate regulation and that it wouldn’t help matters by spelling it out to him, humiliating him even more.  Sighing, Shelby attempted to mollify the older man seated before her, “For what it’s worth, Captain Akinola, I do apologize for not letting you know about Chief Deryx when I had the chance to do so, that was…insensitive…of me.”  Her eyes now taking on a steely glint, the Sutherland captain continued to speak in a carefully modulated tone, “But as for using Chief Deryx without first running it through you? No, I do not apologize for that—and we are both aware as to my authority to do so—and I will do it again if I have to.”  The disapproving gaze on Akinola’s face once again reminding her of her father, Liz struggled to restrain her temper as she demanded, “Do we understand each other?”

Standing up, Joseph, biting back the angry retort trying to force itself to his lips, regarded the woman standing before, now reminding him more of his daughter than the little girl he saw earlier.  Matching her gaze for gaze, Akinola responded quietly, “Yes, Captain Shelby, we do.  Now…as our business seems to be completed, I’ll return to my ship.”  Seeing as Shelby made ready to accompany him, the Nigerian captain raised his hand as he turned towards the door, “No…that won’t be necessary.  I can see my own way out.”

Watching as the old man strode proudly out of her office; Liz shook her head as she quietly cursed herself.  That could have gone much better.

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Persis IV

Smiling from behind his desk as his newest employee entered his office, Lynn Pierson, his feet propped seemingly casually on his desk, his right hand hanging loosely close to the old phaser one that he kept attached concealed to the chair leg, called out, “Come In Tabar, come in.  Pull up a seat…” he proffered gesturing at the chair before the desk.  We have a lot to talk about, Tabar.”  His smile vanishing, Pierson added, “Or should I say, Senior Chief Solly Brin of the USS Bluefin?”

Recognizing that maintaining any pretense to his cover would be useless, Solly, his senses keyed as he measured distances within the room and carefully noted the deceptively hidden alertness of the man seated before him, moved slowly towards the chair.  “How long have you known?”

“Suspected?”  Lynn smirked, “Hmmm…pretty much from the moment we met.  Known for a fact?  Just recently—in fact my suspicions were confirmed only just before Fatso Ershak showed up to rub your nose in it for stiffing him.” His lips turning up into a sly grin, the human added, “And I have a feeling that you did it intentionally.”  Seeing the answering grin on Solly’s face, Pierson laughed, “I knew you were an all right guy!  In any event…” he consoled, “Don’t feel bad I tumbled on to you. If it were anyone but me…” the rogue shrugged, “…you might have pulled it off a bit longer.”  Seeing that the red Orion was still standing, Pierson chuckled, “Oh, do sit down, Solly!  I’m not going to do anything to you and I’m pretty sure you’re not going to try anything—at least not without hearing me out first.  So…why don’t you just relax?  We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“All right…” Chief Brin said as he cautiously took his seat, “Let’s talk.”

“That’s better!”  Pierson grinned.  His smile then vanished to be replaced by a grim expression, “Look.  Ershak might be a jackass, but he’s no fool.  It won’t take him long to find out about who you are.  And once he does find out, he’s going to move—against both of us.”

“So…” Solly inquired guardedly, “…what do you suggest we do about it?”

“Look…” Pierson declared, “…while I know you don’t hold any great love for the ahmets and ahmet’surs, I also know that you’re not exactly going to go out of your way to piss on them either—with the possible exception of the Elix clan that is.”  Seeing the slight stiffening of the red Orion’s spine at the mention of the Elix name, Lynn nodded his head sagely.  “So…that tells me that Ershak isn’t the reason why you’re here, and I’m not the reason why you’re here…”

“Why would you say that?”  Solly riposted with an evil grin.

“Because I’m not that damned important to Starfleet Intelligence.”  Pierson laughed.  His laughter fading away, the defrocked Starfleet officer added, “But I know who is.”

“And who would that be?”

“The being behind the smuggling of Corillan acid in this sector.”  Pierson flatly responded.

“You mean Gul Rejak.” Solly interjected with a sly grin.

Shaking his head, Pierson’s laughter returned as he pulled a bottle containing an amber liquid out of his desk drawer and two glasses, “I really do like you, Chief!”  He exclaimed as he poured the liquid into the glasses, pushing one towards the chief while he picked the other one up.  “Antarean brandy.”  Lynn declared as he took the first sip while Solly watched, “Don’t worry, it’s safe.”

Taking a tentative sip from his glass, Solly nodded his head appreciatively, “Not bad.”  Getting back to the point of their talk, the red Orion inquired, “But you still haven’t told me how you can help me...or why you’re even bothering.”

His laughter dying down, Pierson took another drink before explaining, “I’ve got plenty of reasons—and while most of them don’t concern you, I think one of them might.  I don’t like what that stuff’s done to Alena.”  Shaking his head, the human reminisced, “You should have seen her before she got hooked on that junk.  She was so full of life…she loved to dance.”  Sighing, a sad expression overtook the bar owner as he almost pleaded, “Look…you help me…I help you.  You make sure Alena, Bala, and the others get away to safety and that Alena gets help kicking the acid, and I’ll help you take down Rejak’s operation.”

Seeing the look of sincerity on the man’s face, Solly replied, “All right, you have a deal.  So…how are you going to deliver on your end?”

“That’s the fun part.”  Pierson chuckled, his laughter carrying a sharp edge to it, “Ershak’s going to open the door for us.”

“I can’t imagine he’d do that out of the goodness of his heart.”  Solly wryly opined.

“Oh…” The human answered back, all traces of laughter gone, “He won’t do it out of the goodness of his heart.  But…” he added, an especially evil grin appearing on his face, “…he will do it to keep his heart—in his body and in one piece that is.”

“All right, Pierson…” Solly replied, leaning forward in his chair, “Tell me how we’re going to do this.”

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Part III