Captains Log:

I’m still getting used to the idea of being the Captain of this vessel, of any vessel for that matter.  She’s got a lot of history behind her, from serving with the Corps of Engineers and I’ve looked into the exploits of those who have commanded her before me.  I only hope that I can measure up to those standards and show those that had the faith to grant me this opportunity, were correct in doing so.

Our first mission is to join the hunt for a stolen Federation vessel; a hunt for which my previous post as XO was at the centre of.  The loss of the Valparaiso along with several of her crew was a bitter one.  One that could be ill afforded.  A number of its Officers and crew have joined me here on the da Vinci; but whether that is motivated solely by a sense of duty or thoughts of revenge, I’m not 100% sure, at this moment.  I hope I can temper my own feeling of anger and carry out my orders and set an example to the rest of the crew.

I’ve managed to get a reasonable number of those staff I’d originally requested; though like many ships, we’ll be shorthanded for a while.  My new First Officer will be amongst a small number, we’ll pick up on route.  I hope she will adjust to both the new role and her new status as a joined Trill.  Becoming a host in such a traumatic situation can’t have been easy.  Which is why I’m surprised she approached me.

First off we need to get this old girl launched.

<End Log.>

Anacostia-Bolling swivelled her chair to the right away from her desk and the computer terminal, stood and walked over to the window looking out across the docking area.  Her thoughts wondered to the court hearing the day before.  She’d been asked to give evidence via subspace video link at the request of her former captain’s defence team.  But how do you help defend the actions of a self-centred domineering bigot who doesn’t think you have the right, let alone skill to captain a ship of your own.   Mary couldn’t believe how long she’d gone along with everything Captain Robert Eglin had said and done over the years.  Then again he wasn’t the first overbearing guy she’d got herself mixed up with.  She’d been married to one; for a short while at least.

So her words probably hadn’t help the situation he now found himself in; but his need to be in control had led to the deaths of 37 crew members; including one of her close friend.  The man she’d known as Mar Ley was gone, his wife and now her new XO along with being Chief Science Office, now carried the Symbiont he had before his untimely death.  That would take a bit of getting used to.  Now known as Alara Ley, the Commander wondered how much the joining had changed the woman who would be working directly below her.  Could you ever really be the same person after something like that?  She’d find out soon enough.

The Commander turned away from the window in her ready-room and headed for the Bridge; which as she entered, was a hive of activity, though an organized one at least.  “Ensign Phillanie, inform Docking Control we’re ready to get underway.”

“Aye Commander.” Replied the ensign on communications, as he entered the relevant commands.  “Docking Control confirms we are cleared to depart at our discretion.”

Commander Anacostia-Bolling sat herself down the Captain’s chair, her chair, the big chair; this really was it.  Nowhere to run now and no one to hid behind either,   Once they’d rendezvoused with the USS Jaxartes and picked up the last few members of the crew; there would be 77 souls aboard this ship, all looking towards her to make the right call, the right choices.  ‘No pressure then.’

The communication system rang out its tell-tale whistle across all decks.  “This is your Captain.” She took a deep breath, sensing all eyes on the bridge were now focused on her. “We will be shortly leaving dock and heading out on our first mission as crew of the USS da Vinci.  Some of you have served with me before, others have come from other postings; and for a few of you this will be your very first ship.  I hope to get to know you all in the coming days as we head out.  All I ask is that you perform your duties with care and diligence. That is all”

She took a slow casual glance around the bridge, trying to gauge their reactions to her short message.  Beriev the Saurian Assistant Chief Science Officer was impossible to read, he could have been thinking anything.  Even after three years, his reptilian features gave no hint of what went on inside that head of his.  But he was remarkably good at his job and that’s what counted.  Grav her Tellarite Security Chief; not the Commanders first choice, not even her second to be honest; gave his usual seemingly disapproving grunt.  Another veteran of the Valparaiso, he was someone she’d have to tolerate and work with, if she was ever going to succeed.  The rest seemed happy enough, even is the Commander felt she wasn’t going to be winning any awards for inspirational speeches.

“Mister Isaacs, disengage all moorings and take us out nice and slow.”

“Aye Captain, nice and slow.”

From her position within Starbase 86, the USS da Vinci would have to back out; probably not the most impressive way to get a mission going, but at least now they were on their way.

“Bring us about, baring 212 relative.” The ship slowly turned away from the station, which would now be acting as the vessels home base. Anacostia-Bolling watched as the view on the main screen changed from that of the Aurora-class structure that was Starbase 86, the Azure Nebula and the myriad of stars and planets. “Take us out full impulse; on heading 212 mark 037 and got to warp 5 once we’re past the outer marker.”

She waited silently as the USS da Vinci moved away, taking one last look at the Nebula, wondering if the great artist this ship was named after, had ever painted something as magnificent and awe-inspiring.  The Commander knew very little about the man who was born almost a thousand years ago.  What would he have made of a starship like this, or the fact his name was still remembered long after his death.  They certainly weren’t going to be building a ‘USS Anacostia-Bolling’ at any point in the next thousand years, of that she could be 100% sure.

The Commander stood up once the ship had gone to warp.  It wasn’t a bad chair, but the padding in the seat felt a bit hard; may be they thought she had a rock hard backside or something, and wouldn’t notice.  She should have done something about it after first sitting in the big chair; getting a comfy cushion hadn’t been at the top of her list at that point.  She’d just have to put up with it for a while: dealing with a pain in the ass was nothing new.

“Mister Beriev, the bridge is yours.” The Commander announced loud enough for all those present to hear. “I’ll be in my Ready Room if you need me.”

For now the crew were a little in the dark as to their first mission, Anacostia-Bolling was waiting until her OX came aboard before she set up a staff meeting and explained everything to them.  That would be tomorrow, when they meet up with the Jaxartes.

Lieutenant Alara Ley as she was now known since her joining; was one of six passengers aboard the Raven-class corvette, being ferried to their new postings aboard the USS da Vinci.  Though in fact she was along for more than just the ride, she also had a job to do.

Few people had ever heard of the Orion woman going by the name of Navaar Orci; more than three years ago, and only a couple of those knew she’d been an Exotic Dancer prior to that.  So how exactly had someone seemingly insignificant become the leader of a small gang of Pirates, and how had she managed to pull of the impossible.

This crew were the only people who’d seen her face recently, and who were in a fit state to describe her in any detail.  Alara had read the reports they’d given back in February of this year, but she wanted to hear things from them, first hand.

She was sitting at one of the tables in the Officers Mess, drinking a cup of black coffee; one of those odd habits Alara had picked up, as it had always been her husband who’d drank the stuff in the past.  Such was the confusing and unorthodox situation of carrying the same symbiont he had.  She was no longer, just herself, she was the seventh host of Ley; Mar her late husband, having been the sixth.  But at the time; there had been no other choice.

‘Why are you nervous?’  It was his familiar voice in her mind; another quark of the joining.  Both reassuring and a little spooky in equal measure.  But it had been that voice that had given her the strength to carry on, and the resolve to request the XO position on the da Vinci, even if others felt it was too soon for her to return to active duty.  But Alara couldn’t just sit around on Trill and mope about; that sort of thing had never been in her nature, and even becoming a host, hadn’t changed that fact.

“I’m not nervous.” She replied. “Why would you think I was?”

‘I know you inside and out, both physically and metaphorically.’  Came the answer. ‘And you do realise you’re talking aloud.’

“Sorry I do that when I’m nerv.” She stopped herself. “Oh, very clever!”  She took another sip of her coffee.

She heard a polite cough indicating that Ensign Harris the ships New Zealand born helm officer, and the person she was waiting to see had just walked in on her talking to herself.

“Mister Harris.” She stood and smiled offering her hand. “Thank you for coming.” It had after all been a request rather than an order, once the young man had shaken her hand.  She offered and grabbed him a drink, topping her own up at the same time.

“So you want to know all about my encounter with this mysterious Orion woman.”

For the next half hour Ensign Harris went thought his recollection of the whole encounter.   How the ships then Chief Engineer Bellbrooke, having been left in overall charge of the ship at the time; had ordered them to go and assist a freighter by the name of Soufrière, breaking orbit around Y’Tec IV to do so.  How on their arrival they’d been boarded by a group of Orion Pirates and their leader who’d announced herself as Navaar Orci.  He was noticeably agitated as he recalled how she’d brutally murdered the Chief on the Bridge, and how he felt his turn would be next.

She’d already heard from Lieutenants Devron and Stuart about their dramatic and daring, successful attempt to retake the ship, which had resulted in the capture of Orci and her cohorts.  What none of them could have suspected; when a vessel baring the name USS Crimson Tide had arrived to take their prisoners, that it was in fact the USS Stavanger, the very Norway-class ship she’d stolen from Number 3 Decommissioning and Storage Facility.  One thing the Lieutenant-Commander didn’t tell any of them, at least for now; was the name of the person who’d arranged for a perfectly functioning and fully armed vessel to be transferred to the facility in the first place.  The very same Thomas Arthur Bellbrooke; who’d been aboard the Jaxartes when it was hijacked.  Alara hated coincidences at the best of times, but this one really stank.

**********

In another part of the ship another of the ‘passengers’ was been given a tour of the little corvette.  Hayley Green had in fact been working at Number 3 Decommissioning and Storage Facility; when the discovery about the missing ship had been made.  Questions had been asked. ‘How could they have all missed the fact that a vessel measuring some 252 metres in length and 156 high, with 11 decks; had completely vanished?’

No one had been able to answer that, it was a big place, things go lost all the time; admittedly not usually something that massive.  Hayley had only been at the site for 8 months, so the ship had already gone by the time she’d joined the staff.  Now though, instead of helping take ships apart, she’d be helping keep one of them running.

Albert Torf was proud of this little ship and all the effort that had been put in to keep it running, despite what had been thrown at her.  So when a fellow engineer had asked to look around; he’d jumped at the chance to give the full guided tour.  He was the third person to hold the position of Chief Engineer aboard the ‘Jax’ in only a year.  It was meant to have only been temporary, but his predecessor and friend was still stuck on the ‘USS Chapel’ which was currently off on a disaster relief mission somewhere along the Cardassian boarder.

Stopping at one of the junctions, Ensign Green turned to the Betazoid Chief. “This is a great little ship you have here.  Can’t be easy for you; with so few engineering staff around to keep everything up and running.”

“It has been a challenge, yes.” But we get there. He tapped on one of the wall panels lightly with his knuckle.

“You do realise that panel is in upside down?” Hayley enquired.

Albert stood for a moment looking first at the panel then at his companion and back at the wall.  There was a vague recollection of a comment like that being made in the past; it had been a joke, he was sure of it.  Then the ‘light bulb’ clicked. “Did Dinari put you up to this?”

“Something may have been mentioned in passing.” She replied innocently.

“How have you got mixed up with that wayward rogue?” Torf asked. “Or don’t I want to know.”

“Let’s just say, he can be very charming.”

“He’s been very charming with a lot of people.”

“It’s not so bad if you pretend you’re the only one!”  Hayley knew very well she wasn’t the only pretty women to get ‘horizontally acquainted’ with the Namibian born Casanova.  She’d been in her last year of cadet training when their paths had crossed.  They had kept in touch since; just the odd message here and there; nothing serious.  Which is how he came knew, she’d be coming aboard the ‘Jax’.  Hayley wondered if Dinari had any idea what a serious relationship looked like.

Any further conversation on the matter; was halted by a ship wide announcement from Ensign Cho. “We’ll be linking up with the da Vinci in just less than one hour.  If all passengers could be prepare for departure and assemble in the transporter room at 15:00, ship time. Thank you.”

**********

It was in fact 57 minutes and 22 seconds when the two Federation vessels finally came within transporter range of each other.   Commander Salan had moved to his ready room, as the other ships Captain wanted a word with him in private,

When the face of Commander Anacostia-Bolling appearing on the screen, she didn’t look exactly pleased.  “Would you mind explaining to me what the heck is going on?” Her voice was stern yet measured.

“I’m not sure I follow you.” The Vulcan answered in his usual calm unflustered manor.

“Eight hours after we’d launched.  Eight hours mind,” She said it twice to emphasize how significate the length of time was.  “I’m sent a message to tell me that even though this is my ship and my mission.  You’re going to be babysitting me!”

“I wouldn’t class monitoring your progress, as babysitting, as you put it.”

“And what would you call it?” Anacostia-Bolling, shouted back.  “If they didn’t think I was capable of commanding a starship, why did they tell me how brilliant I was, and give me the da Vinci?”

“Your conduct of late has been commendable.”

“Of late, may be.  It’s the rest of my career that’s the mess!”

“I can assure you I’m not here to look over your shoulder.  Just to lend support if it’s needed.”

“You Vulcans can be so calm and logical at times!”

“Why thank you Commander.  We do our best”

She couldn’t be sure if that comment was meant to be ironic or not; Vulcans did have a sense of humour hidden under that blank facade of theirs. Blink and you could miss it.  “Ok I’ll play nice and not upset the apple cart.  Just send my crew over, and if you fancy sitting in on my first full staff meeting, it will be in 3 hours from now.”

“That won’t be necessary.  I have ever faith in your leadership.”

Anacostia-Bolling bowed her head slightly. “Very well, da Vinci out.”

Her face was replaced by the Federation logo on the screen.  Salan laced his fingers together; this was certainly going to be interesting.

Navaar Orci sat in the captain’s chair of the USS Stavanger, something she’d rarely done since acquiring the now former Federation vessel.  It had been regarded as bold and foolish move, by the few outside her organisation privy to its undertaking.  But she wanted to make a name for herself and prove she could be a big player in the Syndicate underworld, despite her humble start in life.

She could imagine the shocked looks when she’d done something they were too scared to even contemplate and pulling the impossible off.  This vessel had moved up and down the shipping lanes for months, in full view of everyone; selecting likely target and directing other craft in for the attack.  The whole scheme had worked to near perfection, with the help of a special device which had allowed the Stavanger to mimic any other ship in her class.  Bellbrooke had even managed to program the ‘dots’ to repaint the ship’s hull with the required name and registration to complete the illusion; it could be done in just a few hours.  Only a full and detailed analysis could detect the deception and what Federation vessel was ever going to consider doing that to a fellow ship, going about its everyday duty?

Then some stupid fleet of ships lost in time; had sprung up out of nowhere, and all hell had broken loose!  But that had only been the half of it.  When the automated systems had cut in on ‘Frontier Day’ the Fleet Formation Mode was activated and took over complete control of the ship.  She wasn’t the only one who thought this was some new Federation trick, until the magnitude of what had transpired finally reached them.  To Commander Armitage that was just more proof as to how useless an organisation Starfleet had become.  Only the fact that the transporter system hadn’t been tampered with, prevented any of the crew turning into Borg and potentially killing everyone else.

Finally some bright spark had figured out how the Stavanger had managed to keep alluding them; they changed all the transponder codes for the entire Norway-class fleet, one ship at a time, whenever they reached a starbase.  If proof was needed the engagement at Hydra Cascade was the finally indication that it was time to dispose of this ship, either whole or stripped out and cut up into little pieces.  The 38 Quantum Torpedoes alone had to worth something to someone.

Orci had found someone, through various contacts and back channels, someone who was good at dealing with unusually and sometimes deadly merchandise.  Though as yet she was still to discover the man’s true identity; only that everyone called him ‘The Broker’.

One of his operatives had confirmed that there were three interested parties prepared to make offers, but had not elaborated on whom.  The news to reach her was that the ‘The Broker’ had somehow been captured and was been taken to Eos Station.

“There’s a message coming in from Point Creek.” The Orion female monitoring the ships communication system called out.  Point Creek was one of the freighters currently at her disposal for moving goods around. Its current location, rather fortuitously was Eos Station making a more standard supply run, which it did on occasion.

“Patch it through.” Orci replied.

There was a faint crackling sound over the speakers; followed by the voice of what seemed to be an elderly man. “This Reynard, we have a problem here.”

“What sort of problem?” Orci demanded. “Can’t you be a little more specific?”

“The whole station just went on lockdown.” Reynard answered.

“What do you expect?  They got their hands on one of the most dangerous mastermind’s in the sector if not the Quadrant.”  The Orion woman yelled. “What do you think they’d do?  Invite everyone over and throw a party!” Her hands balled up into fists, frustration clearly etched on her face.  She hated having to rely on people like this; to do her work and gather information, it was far from ideal.

“This is something more than just standard procedure.” Reynard came back. “I’ve been around enough to know the difference between standard security, high security and total panic.  And this looks like total panic to me.”

“Stay where you are and don’t draw any undue attention to yourself and report back if you hear any more.”

“Will do ma’am. Point Creek out.”

Korda, her big muscular right hand man and bodyguard looked at her sternly; arms folded across his chest.  He was the only person that could ever look at Ocri in that way or ever speak his mind without the risk of evoking her wrath.  It was a privileged position, but one he never jeopardised.  “If I’m allowed to say, this situation is getting completely out of hand.”

“Oh I agree. But until I have confirmation as to what’s happening, there is no need to panic.”  She reassured him.  “The Broker has no knowledge of our current location.  So we are in no extra danger.”

“If you say so boss.” He bowed.

The Orion leader turned to the woman on communications.  “Contact Dagger 2 have them reroute to Eos Station and be prepared to tail any Federation vessel that makes a sudden bolt for it, understand?”

“Isn’t that rather dangerous sending one of our attack ship in that close?” Korda asked concerned.

“Yes, but if he’s escaped, been killed or they figure out his main base of operation, I want to know, and that attack ship has more chance of keeping up with any of their ships, than an old freighter.” She replied. “Besides that, his got some of my money and if the deal is going to fall through, I want it back.”

Orci closed her eyes and thought of better days, may be stealing this ship hadn’t been a great idea.

Commander Anacostia-Bolling sat at the desk in her ready room aboard the USS da Vinci; a cup of herbal tea in one hand a Padd in the other, numerous other Padd’s spread across its surface, between her and the XO, Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley.

“I’ve been reading through all these since we set out.” The Commander waved the particular electronic device she was holding in the general direction of her Trill companion.  “I used to think it was just me Captain Eglin was secretive with.  Turns out he had the same attitude with everyone.”

“He was previously a covert operative in the intelligence service.” Replied Alara.  “Or that’s the rumour, no one’s ever meant to believe.”

“He’s certainly good at hiding stuff.” Bemoaned the Commander. “Half his service carrier is either classified top secret or redacted.” She picked up a second Padd to show the lines of text on the screen, or rather the handful of words scattered between blank spaces.

“Why are you looking at all this old stuff?” Alara asked. “I thought we we’re hunting for a ship?”

“Because things just don’t add up.” A-B stated plainly.

‘Ask her how?’ The familiar voice echoed in the Trill officers mind. “Shh, I was just going to. Why do you feel somethings wrong?”  She asked the Commander.

“Put simply the route taken by the Valparaiso.”  A third Padd indicated the zig-zag patrol route of the Excelsior-class vessel, before it veered off towards a remote colony on ‘Royce III’; then looping back around and heading as straight as an arrow for the Hydra Cascade.

“You thing someone there, told Robert where to look?”

“I’m almost certain of it.  Somewhere down on that planet he’s got an old contact or someone he used to work with.”

“How do we find them?”

“I think I know someone who can help point us in the right direction.”

**********

It took an hour to get in touch with Number 3 Decommissioning and Storage Facility and its Commander; Hars Bilwat.  The Bolian was rather surprised to be contacted, but more than happy to assist in retrieving the information  Anacostia-Bolling had requested if it was available.

So he sent Kavas and his team over to investigate the once proud Excelsior-class starship.  The USS Valparaiso almost looked intact, only the big hole in the saucer section told a different story.  The pilot of the shuttle brought them in close; before the Andorian beamed across to the derelict with two others.

The ship was in total darkness, only the light from their torches illuminated the way.  however they knew enough about the design of the ship to find their way around; and at least the environmental systems appeared to be functioning, which meant they didn’t require space suits.

“It’s a bit chilly.” Commented one of the team; a youngish blonde man, not long out of completing his training.

“Nonsense.  This is perfect” Replied the Andorian.  “You humans like things far too warm.”  Referring to them as ‘pink skins’ was generally frowned upon these days, though this particular one, did look more pink than most.  Or at least he had until they’d come aboard.

The three of them headed towards the ships main computer core, the other member of the team also human but close to twice the age of his companion and bald; carried a small portable power unit.  They’d beamed in fairly near to their destination, so only needed to open the one set of doors to reach the core.  A pair of magnetic clamps and a bit of brute force had the two halves of the door parted enough to step through.

Bingham; the bald headed member of the team; wasted no time in connecting up the power unit to the computer core and its interface.  Once everything came to life, Kavas started inputting a few commands.  After about ten minutes, he let out a sigh of disappointment.  “Well it was worth a shot, but the main memory and backups have all been wiped.  There’s no data here, and even the deleted stuff has been overwritten to prevent retrieval.”

“Is that normal?” Asked the young assistant.

“Normal and what actual gets done are two different things.” The Andorian answered.  “Our only other bet is to check the logs on the transporters themselves.”

Bingham carefully disconnected the power unit after Kavas had shut the system back down.  Rather than take a long walk, he had the shuttle pilot beam them from their current location to that of Transporter Room 1.

**********

Roughly two and a half hours later, Commander Bilwat was back in contact with the da Vinci.  His team had managed to retrieve the information from one of the backup systems for the transporters.  Stored within its memory; the coordinates of the last five locations anyone had been beamed to from that set of pads.  One of those five locations was on Royce III.  Anacostia-Bolling thanked him for his efforts and promised the Bolian she would owe him one.

“Well we have a set of coordinates somewhere on Royce III.” A-B smiled turning to her XO. “And confirmation that Captain Eglin went alone.”

“So we’re looking for a needle in a slightly smaller haystack now.” Alara replied, taking a sip of black coffee.

‘It’s a start at least.’ The voice of her late husband stated calmly.  ‘You’ve always expected the answers to come too quickly.’

“And you’ve always been happy to wait until things fall into place.”  She realised she’d spoken aloud again.   Alara still had difficulty with conversing with her symbiont through thoughts alone; especially when he said something annoying.  Her husband could be like that at times, and seemingly that hadn’t entirely changed, even after his passing.

“You do know they say talking to yourself is the first sign of madness?” Mary smiled.

“I wouldn’t say that exactly.” Replied the Trill. “The first sign of madness is when you answer yourself back.”  She ignored the rather loud ‘raspberry’ echoing through her mind.  For a being of great age and the combined knowledge of six previous life-times lived; Ley had a rather cheeky side.  Had that always been the case or had her husband Mar had a bigger impact on the symbionts life than even it had realised.  Where in fact did one life begin and the other end?  Was she one person or many?  And why did she love black coffee so much?

She was too lost in thought to realise the Commander had jumped up out of her chair and was heading for the door. “Come on, we’ve got more bread crumbs to follow.”

“This is never going to work.”  Doctor Sunny the Chief Medical Officer moaned; as he stood in the middle of the bridge; facing the main viewer, hands linked behind him, wearing a white knee length medical coat fastened half way, his Starfleet uniform underneath.

“Just trust me doctor.” The Commander said, trying her very best to sound reassuring. “Have a little faith.”

“I don’t know how you ever convinced me to do this?” Was his follow up comment.

“I have District Governor Applewood.”  Phillanie  the communications officer interjected.

“On screen.” Requested Anacostia-Bolling.

The face of a man in his mid-fifties with greased back black hair and rounded face; wearing a rumpled pale grey suit and pink tie, appeared on the screen. “And what would Starfleet want around here?”  He almost sneered with a clean sign of contempt.

“I’m Doctor Sunny Chief Medical Officer.”  The doctor stated, trying to show some an air of authority.  “It’s a medical emergency Governor.”

“What sort of an emergency?” Applewood growled.

“Have you heard of Lamellae Morbus Silakinto?” Sunny asked.

“No, how bad is it?” The Governor looked and sounded a little more agitated now.

“There’s a 12 to 15 percent mortality rate dependant on species.” The doctor replied. “A further 20 percent usually suffer from long term respiratory problems.”

The Governor was visible shocked, and colour in his face was almost completely drained.  “I put you through to our medical team immediately.  Ask them or me for anything and we’ll get it sorted!”

Roughly a quarter of an hour later, Doctor Tanzim Sunny, flopped rather unceremoniously into the Captain’s chair; which the Commander had vacated before communication had been started.  He buried his head in his hands. “I can’t believe I’ve just lied to a Governor and a fellow practitioner!”

Anacostia-Bolling, tapped him gently on the shoulder.  “If it’s any consolation, you did a wonderful job.  You even had me convinced.”

“I’m going to get struck off for this!”  Sunny mumbled.

“Nonsense, it’ll be fine.” The Commander said, warmly. “Now get going, you have lives to save.”

**********

Within the space of three hours, a large tented Aid Station had been set up on the Western edge of Reliance City.  Inside; every member of the da Vinci’s medical team a dozen other officers and crew with basic medical training; along with everyone the local medical team could draft in to help at such short notice.

The locals were sceptical to say the least; Starfleet rarely gave this place a look in; and usually only then if they were hunting some criminal.  But news of this deadly disease started to spread; anyone with a cough, sneeze or slight snivel; was looked at in horror as a potential career.  The queues started short, but soon began to grow as morning on the planet turned to afternoon.

Nurse Folland had just finished giving an injection to a mother and her young son; she’d been dealing with a steady flow of people for four hours; with the odd break inbetween.  Sarah knew that this was all a ruse to get someone’s attention, she just didn’t know who or why.  She wasn’t even sure how this strange plan was meant to work.  The injection everyone was being given, was harmless enough, it might even help the sickest of those in Reliance by giving a much needed boost to their immune system.

The next person in her line of people; was a short and stocky, blonde headed man in his early thirties.  He took a seat opposite the nurse as directed; the right sleeve of the shirt he was wearing, already rolled up.  “Tell me nurse, what are the chances of me picking up a disease of the gills, usually only found in fish native to Ferenginar?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean Sir?”  Folland replied.

“This has to be one of the most bizarre and crackpot ideas yet!” The blonde whispered.  “What’s Captain Eglin playing at?”

“Not Eglin, but we need your help.” Folland Stated, as she gave the man his treatment.

“And what’s to stop me just walking out and disappearing into the crowd?” The man enquired.  “You’d have a hard job spotting me amongst this lot.”

The nurse didn’t answer; instead she let him do just that.  She let him stand up and casually walk out of the tent.  Once the man was out of ear shot, Sarah tapped her Com-badge. “Confirmed contact, sample E1168.”

**********

In Transporter Room 2 aboard the USS da Vinci the Chief on duty received the message and locked on the individual who’d been injected with sample E1168.  A few seconds later, that very same person materialised on the pad.  He took one look at the woman dressed in a Starfleet Commanders uniform flanked by two security guards; one of which was a Tellarite, and started laughing.  “That’ll teach me to be nosey!”

“I’m Commander Anacostia-Bolling, welcome aboard the da Vinci.”

“How in Targ, did you manage to lock on to me that quickly?”

The Commander just smiled at him a gestured for the man to step down off the Transporter Pad.

“You tagged the injection.” He pondered mid step. “But you didn’t know who you were looking for.”  There was another pause. “You tagged every single one!”

The Commanders smile was just a little wider now. “If you’d like to come this way.”

“You can track the location of everyone down there!” The blonde blurted out.  “How long for?”

“Just the next couple of months.”  Anacostia-Bolling answered him.

“Captain Eglin is never normally this devious.  Where is he anyway?”

**********

A short while later in the Main Briefing Room, he was given the answer.  The man admitted that it had been his information that had sent Captain Eglin and the Valparaiso into danger by entering the Hydra Cascade.  “It’s why I wanted to stop in the first place.” Sighed the man. “We can save so many lives, but equally we can send people to their deaths.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” The Commander assured him. “Eglin should have waited, there were two other Federation vessels less than eight hours away. His sense equipment wasn’t up to scanning inside the Cascade.”

“But he wanted Armitage, dead or alive.” The man announced bluntly.

Anacostia-Bolling could understand what that meant; waiting around for backup, when you had an old but still fairly powerful ship at your disposal wouldn’t have been on the Captains mind.  But it had been the two things the Valparaiso lacked that had cost him; adequate scanning and shielding.

“Where do you all fit in to this?” She asked him.

“I was his ‘asset’ the final member of a covert team.” The man looked tired and haggard all of a sudden, like an immense weight had just been dropped on his shoulders.  The memories of what had gone on in the past had clearly left their mark. “I’ve been known by many names; right now I’m Quis, usually I refer to myself as Chameleon.”

The Commander looked at the man; understand most of what he’d said but still not completely. “Chameleon?”

“Are you familiar of what happened to James T. Kirk on Rura Penthe?”

“The Klingon prison he and Doctor McCoy where sent to in 2293, after the assassination of Chancellor Gorkon.  But what’s that got to do with you?”

Chameleon had told very few the story of their life, there were bits still unknown, speculation and educated guesswork filling in much of what was missing.  After the Chameloid shapeshifter going by the name of Martia had been killed on Rura Penthe, someone extracted their DNA for future analysis and testing.  Nothing is known of what the Klingons did with it or if they had any success.  A sample of that DNA found its way into the hands of an unknown scientist.  Chameleon was a genetically engineered result of their experimentation; possibly the only surviving example.

“And before you ask me; no I will not demonstrate.” Quis/Chameleon announced bluntly. “The whole experience can be rather painful.”

“Is that why you went into hiding?”  The Commander asking; showing some concern. “We saw you’re potential and used you like a weapon.”

The blonde man nodded solemnly.  “I got rather too good at it, hated myself for that very reason.”

“Why come out of hiding, if we’d treated you like that?”  Mary was both angry and upset.  Starfleet and the Federation had very strong values and rules they adhered to; but it was clear, that sometimes they broke those rules they held so dear.

“The oldest reason in the galaxy; revenge.” Chameleon looked directly into the Commanders eyes. “Commander Armitage tried to kill myself and Eglin about six years ago; during our last mission.  I think I figured out why.”

“How does any of this link into Navaar Orci?” A-B asked. “She was unheard of six years ago.”

“She was a dancer at the club Armitage regularly visited.” Was the response for the man seating opposite.  “I think he did it to prove his loyalty to her or whoever ran the operation before Navaar took over.”

The top half of commander Salan’s body and his head were clearly visible on Commander Anacostia-Bolling monitor, in her Ready Room.  “So this was completely your idea then.  To create this fake medical emergency on Royce III?” He asked in his usual calm manner.

“Yes that’s correct.” She happily confirmed.  “I needed to track down an unknown individual who may be in a position to help us track down the Stavanger.”

“And at what point did it suddenly dawn on you the enormity of the situation you’d created?” The Vulcan’s eyebrows moved upwards in only a way their race had ever mastered.  That clear look of puzzlement and fascination; that basically indicated how badly you’ve messed up, without the need for words.

“Not until I was informed of actual how many people live in Reliance City.” Her head sunk a little.

“The estimated population of the city, being?” Salan knew the answer; he just wanted his fellow Commander to say it out loud.

“It’s 27,400.” The da Vinci’s Captain replied.

“How long did Doctor Sunny tell you it would take to administer the treatment to everyone?”  The Vulcan was doing his own quick calculation as he spoke, interested to see how close he got his figures.

“He said over two and a half days.” She mumbled.  The point had been that even though they’d found who they wanted within the first few hours, she couldn’t just order a halt to the injections; otherwise it would become obvious this was all a ruse.

“Well 19 hours if no one took any breaks by my calculation.” Salan announced matter of factually. “But the doctor’s answer sounds logical.”

“It just seemed the quickest solution to the problem I was faced with.” Anacostia-Bolling sighed.

“What seems the quickest at first glance might not always be the case.” He intoned, eyebrow inclined.  “And you wondered why I was asked to oversee your mission.”

That last part stung, but A-B knew in a way she was asking for it. “I’ll assess any situation more carefully in the future.”

“I’m sure you will Commander.” The Vulcan replied.  “Hold your position; we’re heading your way.  Jaxartes out.”

She sat starring at the Federation Logo; which replaced the Vulcan on her screen, until the door chime sounded a few moments later. “Enter.”

Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley her Trill First Officer, stepped inside once the door opened.  She took one look at her commanding officer. “That bad was it?”

“Commander Salan has such a wonderful way of putting you down without being openly critical.” A-B answered.

“Want to talk about it?” Alara walked over to the replicator and instinctively requested a black coffee for herself and tea form Mary.

**********

Lieutenant JG Devron vacated the captain’s chair aboard the USS Jaxartes as Commander Salan entered the Bridge. “All quite here Sir.” The young man informed the Vulcan officer.

“Thank you Mr Devron. I have the Bridge”  Salan sat down.  “Ensign Harris, set course for the Royce system Warp 5.”

“Aye Captain.  Bringing her round on heading 220 mark 013, and engaging warp.” The New Zealand announced.  “ETA to the Royce system in six hours.”

The stars on the main view screen turned to streaks of light as the ship jumped to warp and headed off to join up with the da Vinci once more.

“A problem Sir?” Devron ask, regarding the change of course.

“You humans have such a skill at jumping into things without fully exploring the possibilities or consequences.”  The Vulcan commented. “And yet, so often it seems to yield the required results.”

“It’s just a knack we have.” Replied the Lieutenant.

“Mmm, indeed, most perplexing.”  Salan raised an eyebrow.

Devron tried not to smile too much at his commanding officers comment, but the Vulcan did have a point; the human race did have a habit of leaping in before looking.  Things had eased back into normality between the two of them, and things aboard the Raven-class corvette seemed much better for it.  The rest of the crew were happy and worked well because of it.

“Permission to be excused Sir?”  Devron asked politely.  Officially his shift had ended twenty minutes ago, but shifts and work schedules on such a small ship were rarely adhered to.  You worked when you were needed, slept, ate and relaxed, when the opportunity was available.  It was rough and demanding, but Jason didn’t mind too much.

Formerly excused, he headed for sickbay to check on Doctor Andrianakis.  Just as he reacted the door with was only a few paces from the Bridge, the ships current Chief Engineer Albert Torf, was just exiting.  The Betazoid turned.  “Just getting checked out.” He half smiled.  Devron smiled back and nodded in understanding.

It was a wonder to some, how he’d managed to keep going after being near death on two separate occasions.  The first as a result of a rogue Borg attempting to assimilate him and the second after having been beaten and drugged by the Devore when he was seized by them.  Both events had clearly taken their toll, despite the engineer’s attempts to appear upbeat and cheerful.  His face had aged, well beyond the 28 years of age he actually was, and there was a hint of grey above the ears on his otherwise dark brown hair.

Once out of sight, Torf’s confident strides slowed.  He’d managed to pass another medical test; they came regular, due to all that had happened to him.  But it was far from easy.  The doctor had noted his elevated heart rate and he was already taking medication to alleviate the symptoms of the damage to his right lung.  He’d managed to mask the amount of pain he truly was in, but it was a struggle.  It may have seemed stupid and foolish to carry on like this; but this ship needed him, and all he had to do was make it into the New Year.  Just a few more for days, that’s all it was, by then Dinari would be back.  Then Albert could consider his future, even if that future meant giving up the thing he loved most.

Crewman Tyson was keeping an eye on everything in Main Engineering, monitoring the Warp Core which was humming and pulsing away, now the ship was hurtling along. Having spent just under a year, here on the Jaxartes, George had decided he wanted to further his career in engineering and become an officer.  He’s stood in for the Chief when the Betazoid had been injured, so it was clear to everyone he had the knowledge, or at least a good portion of it.  He’d also proved how determined he was; and only regretted not making the commitment right from the start.

“How did it go?” He asked, referring to the medical as he heard the Chief enter.

“You know me; fighting fit and raring to go.” Torf knew that was a lie, as much to himself as the young man he was working with.  “How’s everything in here?”

Tyson gave him a quick rundown of anything that had happened or he’d done in the past half hour.  Everything was operating well within expected parameters.  All the work the engineering team from the Alchemist had put in to repair the ship after its ‘Underspace’ encounter had certainly improved how well this Raven ran.  It had made their lives a lot easier, that was something they were both sure of.

**********

Another member of the crew was seated in the Communication Booth; it was a small private room set up so the crew could contact relatives and friends.  Everyone was allotted so much time per week, which they booked in advance; but no one, so far had complained if someone else had gone a minute or two over.

Crewman Ishan Rahul was chatting with his grandfather, the man who’d more or less brought him up, and who had encouraged him on this career path.  “No Mātāmaha, I have not had the chance.” The young man answered the previously asked question.  “It is far from easy to accomplish on a ship this small.”

His grandfather moaned at him.

“I’m sorry Mātāmaha.  But if you’d only explain to me why I have to do this?”

The grandfather spoke again, angrily.

“I understand, the next chance I get. I will not fail you. I promise.”

The small Raven-class corvette USS Jaxartes and technically lead vessel of this two ship task force; had joined the USS da Vinci in orbit around Joyce III, around an hour ago.  It hadn’t taken long after that for her Captain and First Officer to beam over.

Four individuals sat round one end of the conference table discussing the current situation and the form any future plans should take.  If Commander Anacostia-Bolling didn’t feel like she had a babysitter before, she did now.  Why did this Vulcan sitting opposite; feel the need to keep double checking everything?  She’d made one minor miscalculation, and ok she may have to avoid Sickbay for a bit until Doctor Sunny calmed down.  But she was sure that once this mission was concluded, he’d see that the efforts of himself and the rest of the medical staff hadn’t been wasted.  The Commander also had to thank all the other members of staff and crew; that had stepped in to help.

“So if I’m to understand this correctly.” Salan started on another one of his probing questions.  “This entire mission now hinges on an individual who you’d never met or heard of, until you managed to track them down, here on Royce III?”

Why did the Vulcan have to make it sound like a totally ‘hare-brained’ idea! “That would be correct.” She wished her voice sounded more forceful, like she was really sure of herself.  But she was still learning to be the one at the top and in charge of her own ship.  Having someone checking up on her like this, wasn’t exactly helping her confidence.  Besides she’d held the rank of Commander, longer than he had, so why was he put in charge?  She also had the bigger ship, ‘he wouldn’t request they swap commands would he?’  Anacostia-Bolling heart sank at the thought, this wasn’t butterflies she felt fluttering about; this was a flock of gulls!

“We have carefully examined the implications and possible issues.” That was the voice of Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley, her calm level headed XO.  “The Commander wouldn’t have even suggested it, if she felt there was any danger to the ship or its crew.”

That was a major issue; the last piece of information given by Chameleon had sent a starship racing into a trap; one that had cost 37 lives.  So how could they be sure something equally as bad, couldn’t happen again?

“I have thought this part out much more thoroughly than the plan to track the former operative down.” That part was right, though much of it seemed to be Chameleon’s idea.

“Mmm yes, interesting.” The Vulcan’s eyes scanned briefly along a few lines of text on the Padd, in front of him.  “There isn’t really much about this Chameleon individual here.  How can you verify they are actually who they say they are?”

“I contacted Captain Eglin.” A-B announced. “He was able to furnish me with information only know to a select few individuals, of which Chameleon was one.”

Salan thought about that for a moment.  So the Commander opposite him was basing her entire trust in someone they knew almost nothing about, based on the word of a self-opinionated micro manager with a vendetta.  The Vulcan wasn’t normal a harsh critic of other officers work and conduct; even if he was only thinking it.  Yes he liked things done correctly and his instructions caring out, but even he understood flexibility and last second changes were often required for the success of a mission.  For Captain Robert Eglin, or more correctly former captain, there was no flexibility, he was master and commander of his vessel, and everyone fell into line behind him or suffered for opposing him.  He was completely the wrong sort of person to hold such an important position.  Commander Anacostia-Bolling was a victim of that narrow minded headstrong man, now locked up in a cell.

“Do you feel you can trust Eglin or this Chameleon to be honest?”  Commander Salan asked, putting it as bluntly as he could.

“Not entirely.” Her answer was shift, short and sweet.  The Vulcan raised his eyebrows and Lieutenant Devron who’d remained silent for most of the conversation; look rather taken aback by the statement. “But for them it’s as much about revenge as it is justice.  So I’m banking on that anger being their focus on helping make this whole plan work.”

“There’s a lot of things here that could go wrong.” Commented Devron, looking at his own Padd; which he’d scrolled down to another page and section of text. “If you don’t mind me saying?”

‘Blimey it speaks.’ Alara closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  Her symbiont had such a wonderful way with words.  This whole idea of chasing down those responsible for murdering her husband; was a tough one.  She could sense, despite the cheeky bravado, Ley was feeling the strain to. ‘What must it feel like to lose a part of yourself like that.’  It was a thought that had run through her mind a dozen times, and always the same answer came back.  ‘The pain and grief at losing a host; can never be truly measured only endured.  I gain as much from your strength and determination, as you take from my knowledge, understanding and comfort I provide.’  She’d cried the first time she’d heard those words, cried many times since.  But she and Ley were a team now, and together they would get through this.

The meeting continued on for another good hour, ironing out all the finer details of the planned operation, so what could possibly go wrong?

**********

It had been suggested that a ship of some description would be required, something slightly less conspicuous than a Saber or a Raven at least.  Chameleon had given them the name and details of a likely candidate, a small time Nausicaan pirate by the name of Jdorkra, who, to their knowledge was currently somewhere within Reliance City.  He had one distinguishing feature that made him stand out amongst the few dozen Nausican’s currently roaming around and one that made him look more of a pirate than almost anyone else.  Jdorkra, had a wooden leg!

Grav and two of his security team stood around the edge of the Transporter Pad, phasers draw and set to stun.  Theoretically it would have been safer to beam the Nausicaan directly to one of the holding cell, but he had a piece of equipment that would be vital if anyone was going to gain access to his ship.  No one assumed he’d be too happy or willing to give it up. Here at least there was a bit of room to manoeuvre should there captive prove hostile.  The Tellarite Security Chief could have put money on it.

In the same way they’d been able to track down Chameleon using the unique tag within the injection he’d been administered, they could lock on to Jdorkra and beam him up.

As the Nausicaan quickly coalesced into a solid form, one of the two security guards informed Jdorkra of his arrest.  For a more senior member of his race and one with a clear impediment, Jdorkra moved rather swiftly; faster than the two men nearest him had anticipated.  The guard who’d spoken fired his phaser, as the Nausicaan leapt at him and shoved the poor guy half way across the room.  The stun shot at almost point blank range hadn’t even slowed him.  Jdorkra still on his feet, unlike the first guard, turned to the other and with one swing, delivered a powerful right hook to the individual’s jaw, whilst grabbing the guard with his other hand to prevent the man flying across the room like his companion moments before.

Grav stood back, more intent on making a few minor adjustments to the phaser he was holding than the beating the two unfortunate guards were receiving.  It took a lot to take a Nausicaan down, even an old one.  Nothing short of a maximum stun setting could bring one down, as the first man had discovered.  But the Tellarite had no plans to use stun.

With one carefully aimed beam of concentrated energy and a slight flick of the wrist, the Security Chief sliced through the Nausicaan’s wooden leg, dropping the giant to the ground.  Stepping forward altering the setting on the phaser once more, he put Jdorkra to sleep. “Amateurs.” He grumbled picking up the wooden leg and instructing the technician operating the transporter to beam the Nausicaan to a holding cell.

“You enjoyed that too much.” Anacostia-Bolling commented from her vantage point by the door.

The Tellerite looked at the two guards on the floor, pulling themselves together. “The kids have to learn somehow.”

He handed her the wooden leg, in which was concealed a small electronic device; without which it would be almost impossible to gain access to Jdorkra’s ship.

“Stage one complete.” She smiled.  “That’s the easy part done.”

Getting aboard a pirate ship with the use of a wooden leg, even if it did contain an electronic key imbedded inside it; certainly hadn’t been on Lieutenant Stuart’s ‘to do list’, but that’s exactly what she had done, only minutes before.  The ship itself was roughly three times the size of a Runabout, and had a predictor look with its mandible shaped front section and swept back wings.  It hadn’t just been a case of simply stepping aboard the vessel, though.  Two other Nausicaan’s had to be dealt with, neither of which paid much attention to the outer hatch opening.  So at least the small boarding party, maintained the element of surprise, right until the very last moment.  The Tellarite dropped the individual to the left whilst Stuart took out the one on the right.  Both hit the deck with a loud and satisfying thud.

“Ever thought of trying out security?” Enquired Grav; looking at the two inert bodies. “You’re not too bad a shot.”

Stuart had to stop a moment, ‘had she just been complemented by a Tellarite?’  They placed a tag on both the sleeping Nausicaan, allowing the da Vinci’s transporter to lock on and whisk them straight to a cell next to their leader, who was probably at this moment fuming over having his leg sliced off.

When the all clear signal was given; the rest of the team for this part of the operation, came out of the shadows and headed for the hatch.  Chameleon was with nurse Folland, who’d agreed to come along and monitor the Human/Chameliod hybrids health when it came to the point they’d need to change form.  The appearance of a young blonde man had been one they’d held for over three years.  So becoming someone else after that length of time; was going to hurt.  Last, but in no way least Ensign Sparrow, who was an engineer from the da Vinci and would keep an eye on the systems, whilst Stuart concentrated on flying the ship.

Stuart went through the pre-flight checks in the dimly lit cockpit using a Padd complete with translation program; as every control label was in Nausicaan, whilst Sparrow carrying an identically set up Padd; did the same in the engineering compartment.  So he’d at least know what some of the controls and monitors were telling him. Calling it a room would have been a bit of a stretch; he was barely able to squeeze himself past some of the equipment, and wondered how the much larger Nausicaan had ever managed it!

“Think you can fly this thing?” Asked the Tellarite as he dropped into the co-pilot seat. “Only someone said you crashed the last shuttle you flew!”

She assumed that would have to be Tholakath, the Cardassian; who had been in the shuttle along with her, when they’d been forced to make a hasty exit. “Either way, we’re going to find out fairly quickly.”

Grav grunted and reached for the communications panel.  “This is Silent Fist requesting clearance from Pad 9.” The Tellarite hoped the manner in which he spoke sounded sufficiently like a Nausicaan to fool whoever was monitoring flights from the Space Port.

“This is Flight control, you are clear to depart on Vector 3.” Replied a sweet melodic, female voice.  “Safe flight.”

Lieutenant Stuart, slowly and carefully powered up the engines.  Everything shuddered as the ship began to lift up, as if it wasn’t exactly keen on the prospect of being airborne.  But despite its protests, the Orion managed to get the craft up and away from the Pad.  All she had to do now was figure out in which direction this ‘Vector 3’ was.

“Couldn’t we find a ship that wasn’t as old as my grandmother?” Enquired Grav.  “And felt less like it wanted to rip itself apart,”

“My dear Grav, I’m sure nothing could be as old as your grandmother?” Stuart winked.

The Tellarite burst out laughing; it was rare to find anyone prepared to be insulting like that.  It was in a Tellarites genes to debate, argue and occasionally insult people.  Other Federation species just didn’t always understand that.  Many not familiar with the idea and took offence; but a Tellarite really had to like you, before they unleased their worst insults. It was a sign of trust.

“I get the feeling you’ve been around, my kind before.” Commented the Tellarite.  “Not many people are that quick off the mark.”

“My father did a bit of trading with the Tellarite colonies on Tellar-Seta and Bal-Seta.” Stuart informed him.  “So a girl picks up one or two things.”

“Well at least this trip won’t be too boring then.” Grav grunted. “I’d still prefer it if we didn’t have to go it alone.”

That was the one issue with this stage of the operation; Jdorkra’s ship was only small, so cramming any more people into it wasn’t feasible; neither was meeting up with the two Federation ships in orbit, someone would bound to be watching, no matter how careful they were.  Even the route they’d been given to fly, would take the as far from the ships as possible, without looking entirely deliberate.  Flight Control clearly assumed the Nausicaan would want to avoid the Federation, if possible.  So at the moment Lieutenant Stuart was making a good impression of a Nausicaan pirate trying to avoid detection and capture.  Once she was happy it looked like they were escaping, she jumped to warp.

**********

On the bridge of the USS da Vinci everything was calm and organised.  Commander Anacostia-Bolling sat in the captain’s chair, relaxed with legs cross.  The view screen set to maximum magnification, just picking up a black shape only seconds before a flash indicated a vessel jumping to warp.

“Shall we follow?” Asked Isaacs.

“Not so fast, count to ten, and then set a pursuit course.” Then the Commander turned to communications. “Inform the Jaxartes the ‘chicks’ have left the nest.”

“Jaxartes confirms ready to follow.” Replied Phillanie a moment later.

The helmsman had evidently been counting to ten in his head, for at that point the USS da Vinci banked away from the planet of Royce III and broke orbit.  Heading towards the direction the Nausicaan vessel had gone moments before; Isaacs took the ship clear of any planet.

“What’s the speed of their ship?” Enquired Anacostia-Bolling.

“Speed registering warp 6.32.” He XO was monitoring from the science station.

“Mr Isaacs, match that speed if you will.”

“Aye Captain, going to warp now.”

It never got old, watching the stars turn to streaks of light, as a ship went beyond the speed of light.  The technology and power to send a vessel across the space at such tremendous speeds, was truly amazing.  Yet within the confines of the warp bubble and the ship’s hull itself, you could hardly sense that movement, without actually witnessing it.  No, Anacostia-Bolling would never tire of this magnificent view before her.

So that was part two of the operation; successfully completed.  The next stage would involve the Nausicaan pirate ship ‘accidently’ running into one belonging to Navaar Orci.  The ship in question had briefly been picked up by the scanners of a Freighter heading towards Eos Station.  The crew had basically been on top of the Orion ship before they’d even realised its presence.  She could only imagine the shear panic of blundering into such a vessel, and the surprise at being completely ignored and allowed to carry on with their journey; unmolested.  All be it, at a greatly increased speed.  It was a wonder they hadn’t blown up, judging from the report.

Whatever that ship was doing, it wasn’t hunting; it was waiting or searching for something specific.  It had orders, and was following them rigidly.  The description, though slightly exaggerated as regards to the size and weapons configuration, gave it an 87% chance of being one of two custom designed ships belonging to Navaar Orci; that was their way in.

Navaar Orci stood by one of the large windows that occupied the leading edge of the Forward Lounge, aboard the USS Stavanger.  The illumination level within the room was set low; small lights on each of the tables dotted around the room, flickered like candles caught by an imaginary breeze.  This felt close to the kind of places she’d grown up in, were she’d learnt her craft and the art of seducing men.  She’d been a nothing, a simple dancer, but one with a talent.

Commander William Armitage had been on a mission the first time they’d met; she’d suspected it, yet played naïve.  Navaar had been dancing on the stage and had just finished, when their eyes met, and that was just the start.  She pretended to have no idea of the cruelty and criminal activity, those she worked for had undertaken.  She was just a dancer, nothing more.  He’d come to kill her boss; she’d discovered that part, after spending the night together.  That this was happening surprised her; as she didn’t think the Federation sanctioned such operations.  Apparently they did a lot of things in the shadows, they didn’t want made public; including assassination.  For an expert in subterfuge, Armitage was rather easy to manipulate.  It was that night, she finally realised how talented she truly was.

At any point she could have stopped him; revealed the man’s true identity and intentions.  Twice, she’d had the opportunity to plunge a dagger into his heart, as the pair of them lay together.  But no, she wanted him to succeed in his task and to escape afterwards.  Armitage was finding it difficult to get close.  Navaar even made suggestions; some outlandish and unworkable, she didn’t want him to think she was too smart after all.  One idea though; that she casually tossed out like a second thought, was sheer perfection.  So brilliant in concept that it basically couldn’t fail and wouldn’t risk exposing him.  Which meant the Commander, who’d fallen in love with the young Orion, could continue seeing her, even after the mission was concluded.

Why though was Navaar more than happy to help the covert operative in his quest?  The simple answer was power and greed.  She had ambitions and plans well above her station; but these things took time.  The death of their leader would move her mother up in the ranks, and in so doing, also elevate her standing.  It was a long road.  She was young though, and therefore had time on her side.  She’d also have a Federation officer in her pocket, a fact she was planning on telling no one.

The death of their leader sent shockwaves through the organisation, some even blaming each other for the outrage; suspected, correctly that it was a play for power; but all pointing the finger in the wrong direction.  Who for a moment would ever think it was the dancer they’d watched perform night after night, who had helped orchestrate it.  Some had even been watching her, as the man took his last breath.  She should know, she had the privilege of watching how much he suffered in those last agonising minutes.  Her scream was loud and piercing; very theatrical, yet convincing enough to all those around the room.

Two more top members of the group were dead by the end of the year through infighting.  The whole organisation could have fractured and fallen apart.  One person though stood out as a beacon of calm in the turmoil.  Someone who’d avoided accusations; nor had levelled them against others; a person for that reason, others trusted.  After more than a year of chaos that person was elected the new leader; her name Serin Orci, Navaar’s mother.

Commander Armitage didn’t however work alone; he was part of a team.  The others would have to be dealt with, if she was to hold on to her prize catch.  Especially if it was to believe; one of them had the ability to change form and mimic the appearance of any other person they’d seen.  Someone like that could prove useful to the group, but Navaar was unwilling to take the risk, they would have to be eliminated.

The key to getting him to betray his own people had been the prospect at being at her side and enjoying vast wealth he could have only previously dreamed of.  It was so predictable and so sad at the same time, the Commander was nothing more than a tool to further her needs; a mere play thing, she would destroy if and when the time arose.

Thomas Bellbrooke had been an altogether different prospect.  A gambling alcoholic with survivors’ guilt after the Synth attack on Mars in 2385 had claimed the lives of his family and his entire workforce.  They were just a tiny fraction of the other 92,000 lives lost.  He owned her mother more than he could ever hope to repay.  But Navaar found ways for him to pay off those debts and draw him ever closer into her growing web.

She fed his hatred of the Federation, whilst helping him put his life back together; through a careful cocktail of drugs and hypnosis.  Other talents she’d acquired along the way.  Navaar had even convinced him to re-join Starfleet, where he took on a role as engineer at the Forth Fleets main base of operations, ‘Starbase Bravo’.  He’d lost none of his skills both as an engineer and as a leader, rapidly being promoted to a more senior position, despite officially only holding an Ensigns rank.

Bellbrooke had been the one instrumently  in helping her steal this ship, and had almost managed to aid her in seizing a small Raven-class corvette by the name of USS Jaxartes which he’d become Chief Engineer of.  Currently he was listed as dead; killed by her in fact, and with a witness to the crime.  Such a young handsome man that. She’d called him ‘Pretty Boy’, which indeed he was.  So sad their time together was brief; she would have loved to add him to her ranks.

Navaar turned from the window; she’d dwelled too much on the past.  As much as she enjoyed the thrill and sheer audacity of owning a Federation vessel; the ship itself had become more of a noose, a target on her back.  There’d already been one failed attempt at taking the ship; more were bound to follow.  It was time to part-company, even if as she suspected, the Broker was no longer in a position to find the buys she needed.  May be it was time to do it herself.

“Korda.” She called, and like a lap dog her right hand man, bodyguard and anything else she needed him to be; stepped out of the shadows from the far end of the room. “Signal Dagger 1.  Have them here, at the double.”

“By your command Mistress.” Korda bowed and headed away.

No relying on this mysterious Broker individual had not worked as she’d hoped.  Navaar would find a way of getting the money she’d paid him as a retainer back; he need not worry about that.

The ‘Silent Fist’ banked sharply, as Lieutenant Stuart in the pilot’s seat of the sleek Nausicaan pirate ship, battled with the controls.  Seconds later a beam of intense energy sliced past on the starboard side, right were the ship had been, until the abrupt turn.  She continued to twist, turn and roll the ship in an attempt to lose her pursuer.  Ducking behind a large asteroid, the young Orion didn’t need to be told that a torpedo had just slammed into the far side of it.

Continued course changes within the asteroid field, kept the other ship from getting a positive lock; but there had been several near misses along the 15 minute chase.  She took the ship through a gap between two tumbling chunks of rock, knowing the much large vessel behind couldn’t follow and would need to take evasive action.  That bought them valuable seconds in which to seek out their next piece of cover.

Inevitable a shot found its mark; some 3 minutes later the aft shields took a direct hit.  “Shields are down to 87%!”  Shouted Chameleon; from his seat at the rear of the cockpit as the alarms wailed throughout the ship.  Grav merely grunted; he was annoyed that the stupid owner of this vessel had never thought to install adequate rear facing weaponry.  What was the point of having two heavy Plasma Cannons; more commonly fitted to larger vessels and a micro torpedo launcher, if you were going to have s pitifully small cannon at the rear?  To make matters worse; it was mounted between the engines, severely limiting the firing arc.

Stuart took the ‘Silent Fist’ into another corkscrewing turn, narrowly avoiding one of the largest asteroids they’d encountered yet. The whole ship seemed to be screaming at her to stop the madness and the Inertial Dampeners struggled against the immense forces being created with every sudden and elaborate course change.

“Ok, that was close!” The Orion laughed.

The Tellarite next to her only glared; tough and dependable, Grav could handle almost anything; and he’d been involve in some really horrible situations during his career.  But never had he felt so helpless, gripping the arm rests of his chair tightly, as some mad woman performed manoeuvres he was sure should have been beyond the capacity of the ship to undertake.

“You’re enjoying this all, way too much.” He yelled.

“Come on Grav, where’s your sense of fun and adventure?”  She grinned back.

“Spread across several of those asteroids, along with my pride, common sense and probably breakfast, if you keep this up!”

The Lieutenant only laughed again in response and took the ‘Silent Fist’ into a barrel role to avoid another volley of fire. It was just then she noticed a new ‘blip’ on the scanner.  “We’ve got more company.”

Grav carefully yet swiftly checked the reading. “One Orion pirate vessel; currently on an intercept course.”

“At last.” Stuart sighed, swinging the Nausicaan ship around on a new heading. “I was being to think we’d be doing this all day, before they noticed!”

The vessel pursuing them clearly didn’t want to tangle with the Orion’s and made a hasty retreat.  The Lieutenant slowed the ship down as the pirate ship closed in.  A few seconds later, the ship tried to establish contacted with them.

“Now it’s your turn.” The Tellarite announced turning to Chameleon.

The figure that stepped to the front of the cockpit and stood between the Orion and Tellarite was very different from the one that had boarder with them a few days previously.  When the Captain of the Orion pirate ship appeared on the monitor, Chameleon introduced themself.

**********

Previous…

It had taken longer than expected to track down the correct Orion Pirate ship; as there were apparently more of them active in the regions around Eos Station than expected.  This was both a puzzling and worrying development.  Commanders Salan and Anacostia-Bolling had agreed not to inform the station or any of the vessels attached to it.  There was still concern over who could be trusted and how for Ambose Nichols connection spread within the Federation.  There was no indication that the man himself had been spotted recently; so if no one knew his current whereabouts, his apparent appearance somewhere else, wouldn’t flag up any warnings.  The only hope was that Navaar Orci’s people would keep the whole thing quiet and not jeopardise the hunt for the real man.

It was time for Chameleon to do the one thing they’d been created for.  The rear cargo-hold was well away from the rest of the crew aboard the Nausicaan pirate ship.  Few had ever witnessed a transformation; it was traumatic and painful, both to be the one it was happening to and anyone watching.  Even Eglin had been shocked by what he’d seen happen as Chameleon went from one form to another.  It was the main reason he’d finally helped Chameleon escape; the then covert operations office, could see the strain both physically and mentally it was having. Now Chameleon was preparing to do it once more; to step back into the shadowy world of lies and deceit.  Had they ever really left that past behind them?  Their whole life and existence was a lie; a Changeling by another name, and look what chaos and destruction they had created.

So it came as a surprise when Nurse Folland stepped into the compartment.  “This won’t be pleasant.” They informed her as way of warning.

“I know, you told me.” She replied softly. “But you shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.”

“Why do you care?” Chameleon asked.

“Because I don’t think anyone else really has.” Was her honest answer. “Besides that, I’m your nurse.”

There was the hint of a smile, possible the last smile this face would ever make; at least in its current form.  Soon Chameleon would be wearing someone else’s face; thought to be truthful, every face had belonged to someone else.  Chameleon did not know what their true form was; how to become themselves, they would forever be a copy of someone else, living or dead.

Chameleon had studied every image and video that could be tracked down of the Broker or Ambrose Nichols, as had been discovered.  The way the man moved as he walked, moved his hands, greeted people, his voice.  Every little scrap of information and detail that was available.  This had to be as close to perfect as possible; because it wasn’t just a case of pretending to be that man, it was becoming that man.

It was the heat that came first, intense heat; across skin, over muscles, through bone.  It felt like being a living torch.  Every cell, every molecule within the body; ready to change and morph into something new.  Those Changelings had it so easy; they didn’t burn within and scream with agony each time they took on a new form.  And those screams did come; like a banshee from hell or a lost tortured soul.

From a stocky blonde of 5’7” with bluey green eyes; formed a much slimmer man of 6’1”, with black hair, highlighted with grey, beard and moustache to match; eyes now grey and mysterious.

Nurse Folland was shaking; she’d never witnessed a sight like it, but somehow she’d stayed calm enough during the transformation, to administer some pain relief.  She’d also held his hand throughout the whole episode.

Chameleon, now in the form of Ambrose Nichols, leaned forward and kissed Sarah on the forehead.  “Thank you.”

**********

Present…

So it was a few hours later; after a staged engagement between the ‘Silent Fist’ and the USS Jaxartes, that Chameleon introduced himself to the Captain of the Orion vessel as Ambrose Nichols.  Part three of the operation, was now underway.

Captains Log Supplemental:

We’ve been trailing the Orion Pirate vessel identified as being one of two known ships, belonging to the mysterious Navaar Orci; for the past two days.  It is hoped our undercover asset has convinced the Captain of that ship to take him straight to the stolen USS Stavanger and possibly the Orion Leader herself.

There is so little known about this Orion woman.  Who, despite her seemingly young age has rapidly risen to such a prominent position as leader of her organisation.  We have just as little information about the group itself; which until Navaar took over, had only even been involved with a few attacks on ships and slave trafficking.  They’d certainly never try anything as major as stealing a starship.  She was undeniably trying to make a name for herself and get noticed; but possible this escapade had got her too noticed.

On a personal note, I wonder what turns a dedicated Starfleet officer into a criminal, what happens to change them so dramatically?  Or were they always bad, and we didn’t always see it?

<End Log>

Commander Anacostia-Bolling, rotated her chair slightly, so she could gaze out of the window.  It was nice to have small moments like this.  A chance to reflect and take stock of the situation.  They’d certainly covered some distance so far during this mission, and it wasn’t over yet.

With her first officers help organising the shift rotas; she’d tried to make sure everyone in the crew had at least some time to relax.  It was hard to know when they might suddenly all be needed; and the last thing she wanted was any of them to be off their game, because they’d been on duty too long.  She’d seen that happen, a Captain keeping the crew on full readiness for hours on end; leading to fatigue and mistakes being made at the vital moment.  She’d only been an ensign then, too low down the ladder to make much of a difference, but she understood the consequences.

She stood up and took the few steps to the window, as if being just that bit closer would make any different to what she could see.  Yes stupid, Mary knew, but people had a habit of doing things that didn’t completely make sense when you looked closer.  Somewhere out there in the distance was an Orion pirate ship, on board amongst its normal crew, Chameleon and Petty Officer, nurse Sarah Folland.

The Commander could still hear the ringing from the ear bending rant from her Tellarite Security Chief.  He was supposed to have been the one that went; but apparently the Orion captain didn’t like his face.  She was never going to hear the last of that.  Doctor Sunny was also annoyed with her for letting the nurse go on the pirate ship; as if she actually had control over events.  Firstly the girl volunteered for the mission and to accompany Chameleon, who was now playing the role of Ambrose Nichols.  Rather convincingly, judging by the reaction they’d received.

The three Nausicaan had been handed over, along with their vessel.  It was now another captain’s job to look after them.  Lieutenant Stuart had certainly enjoyed flying the craft and had been sad to let it go.  She’d proved herself a skilled pilot more than on just this mission, and Commander Salan was lucky to have her.  But if the Lieutenant fancied flying anything just a bit bigger than a Raven, Mary would find a way to squeeze her in on the da Vinci.  Not that there was anything to grumble about those that already flew her.

Commander Anacostia-Bolling headed to the Bridge; there were no whistles, fanfares, shouts or proclamations.  She’d nipped that one in the bud right from the off.  There was no need for everyone to know she’d just stepped back on to the Bridge, because in her opinion a good crew should work just as efficiently, whether she was there or not.  So having some sort of signal basically saying ‘look lively the boss is watching’ was a no go.

“Anything to report, number one?” She asked her XO.

“Other than a couple of minor course changes by our Orion friend in the last half hour; nothing of note has happened.” Answered Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley; getting up out of the captain’s chair.

“Well I’ll keep an eye on everything for the next couple of hours.” Smiled the Commander; taking the chair.  “So go grab something to eat and whatever.”

“Very well, I’ll be back at 19:00 then.” Alara confirmed.

As the door on the turbo-lift closed and the Trill instructed it where she wanted it to take her, she heard the familiar voice of her husband.  ‘So what are we having?’

‘Oh you speak!  Thought you’d wondered off it had gone so quiet.’ Her ability to think a reply to her symbiont, rather than say it; was getting better.

‘I’ve got a lot on my mind.’

She exited the lift and stopped. ‘You’re worried aren’t you?’

‘Yes’

‘Because the last time we found that ship, Mar got killed.’

The symbiont didn’t answer, but Alara could sense the turmoil.  There was still the instinct in there as a husband to protect his wife, even after death, mixed with the sense of honour and duty.  That part of him that still existed within the memories of Ley, loved her and that would never change.  But she was an officer in Starfleet, as he had been, as they’d both been.

‘It’s going to be ok, I trust Mary to do the right thing.  Otherwise I wouldn’t have come back.’

‘I trust her to.  Besides you’d get too board talking to yourself at home all day!’

Alara smiled. ‘Let’s grab a Chinese.  You may have somehow got me hooked on coffee, but you’ll never diminish my love of Asian foods.’  The response as she headed off towards the main restaurant was loud laughter.

**********

Down on deck 8; two of the other science officers were enjoying a quick drink at the bar, which was a resent addition to this part of the ship.  Giovanni Agusta was another veteran of the USS Valparaiso, the ship on which Alara’s husband had been killed; nearly half the officers and crew on the da Vinci had served aboard the old Excelsior-class on that fateful final mission.  His name could have easily been amongst the dead; and he’d work with a few of them closely.

His current companion at the bar was an Andorian called Ithran, who was part of the Life Science department.  There topic of conversation had been meandering from one subject to another with no set pattern; if anyone other than the Holographic Bartender had been close enough to listen in, they’d probably be rather confused.

“So hold on, let me get this straight.” Giovanni continued. “You’re an Andorian, yet you’ve never once set foot on Andoria?”

“Yes that’s true.” Ithran replied.  “But how many Humans have never set foot on Earth?”

The Italian thought about that for a moment.  “Ok, you may have a point there.”

“Change of subject.” The Andorian announced out of the blue.

Giovanni took a sip of his Limoncello. “We’ve been doing that the last half hour.  But go on.”

“Have you noticed how our bartender friend here keeps looking over my shoulder, but there’s no one behind me.” Ithran commented.

The Italian looked at the hologram then around the room; true enough, the two of them were the only ones there.  Then he caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up.  Nudging his friend the two of them looked up at one of the ships Dot’s on the ceiling.  “I think you’ve got you answer.” Giovanni announced, before tapping badge. “This is Lieutenant Giovanni. I’m in ‘Down Under on deck 8.  Can someone from maintenance come check on a Dot, it might be faulty?”

The pair didn’t have to wait all that long before someone from the maintenance section of engineering arrived; in the form of a young cheerful red head.

“That was quick.” Ithran noted.

“I was on the deck above or below depending on your point of view.” She smiled back. “Somebodies K177 replicator would only do toast.”

“Just toast?” Giovanni questioned.

“Well muffins, tea cakes, buns, baps, baguettes and bagels.” She continued.

“Sounds like a bad joke.” Ithran added.

“I’m Ensign Hayley Green by the way.” They shock hands.  “So where is this Dot?  I don’t see one.”

The two science officers pointed up. “There.”  They said in unison.

“Now how do you know there aren’t a few cobwebs up there?” She giggled. “Question is how do I get ‘Henry’ down to check him out?”

“Henry?” The Italian asked, perplexed.

“Apparently it was the name given to hoovers back in the 20^th century.” Hayley offered as an answer.

The young Ensign climbed up on a table, and reached out to the Dot after it had ignored any verbal commands she’d given it. Unfortunately hitting the emergency shutdown had the effect of disengaging the magnets helping to hold the machine to the ceiling; and it crashed to the floor. “Oh bugger.” Green exclaimed as a few pieces of Dot went flying off and bounced across the floor.

She was about to ask them to help her down and search for the missing bits; when the lights went red. “Red Alert, all crews to your stations.” Came the voice of the Captain. “Medical and emergency repair team to standby positions.”

Giovanni and Ithran both rushed out. “Guys, don’t leave me up here in the dark!” Hayley shouted after them. “Guys!”

Commander Anacostia-Bolling twisted around in her chair as she heard the swish of the door open. “Sorry about cutting your brake short.” She apologised to her XO.

“What’s up?” The Trill asked, noting they were travelling on impulse power.

“Our friend out there just dropped out of warp.”  The Commander pointed towards the main viewer even though the ship they’d been following wasn’t visible at the time; even on maximum magnification.

“So you think we might be close?”  Alara asked moving over to join Beriev at the science station. “Better see what we can spot out there, then.”  She started giving instructions to the Saurian on which parts of the analysis she wanted him to focus on, whilst concentrating her effort elsewhere.

They had arrived in the vicinity of Fyresia a Supergiant star, with no less than 15 orbiting planets of varying types and sizes, along with a myriad of moons and other bodies.  It was going to take an absolute age to check every one of them.  It was for this reason the da Vinci slowed down even more; to the galactic equivalent of a snail’s pace.

“Almost as good as hiding yourself inside a nebula.  Only without the issue of reducing your own ability to detect any approaching vessels.”  Anacostia-Bolling commented as she took a look at the data being presented to her. “I’m annoyingly impressed.”

“Hidden in plain sight.” Her helm officer added.

The Commander looked across to her communications officer.  “Inform Command of our position and request any available ship in the sector.”  She paused a second. “Also check with Commander Salan and confirm the Jaxartes ETA.”

A couple of minutes later the communications officer had an answer.  “Commander Salan confirms the USS Jaxartes is 11 hours behind us, and The USS Sizemore should be able to join us in17.” Ensign Phillanie paused a moment. “No other vessels within range to reach us in the next 36 hours.”

“Thank you Ensign.” The Commander replied. “Inform me if that situation changes at any point.”

“Understood.”

A Saber, a Steamrunner and a Raven-class; going up against a Norway and an Orion Pirate ship.  Anacostia-Bolling ran the numbers through her mind.  Firepower, shield strength and manoeuvrability of each vessel.  The statistics made it a close thing and she didn’t want to go in all guns blazing; if there was a chance of failure.  He former Captain had done that, and the Commander owed it to this crew, not to make the same mistake.

Alara Ley the Trill First Officer had been half listening in whilst performing her own tasks.  She stepped across to the Captains, placing her hand on top of the Commanders.  “We trust you to make the right call.”

Mary wasn’t sure if her XO and friend meant ‘We’ as in herself and her symbiont or her and the crew in general, but she understood the sentiment.

It was time to move things up a gear, there were a lot of planets and moons out there to cover and the long it took them to move through the system, the greater the chance of being spotted or the USS Stavanger slipping away unseen.

“Prep shuttles Shirley and Mona Lisa for launch.” The Commander instructed.  “They can help speed up the process of scanning the system and hopefully our friends out there won’t spot them first.”

Alara made a request to take charge of one of the shuttles and Anacostia-Bolling nodded her approval, before the Trill officer raced off the Bridge.

‘You know in situations like this we’d usually take a shuttle each.’ Her symbiont Ley commented.  In the past that had been very true; more than once during a mission, husband and wife had took command of two separate shuttle craft.  Now of cause that wasn’t an option, Mar was only here in spirit.  She did know that Lieutenant Giovanni Agusta was a good officer and so one she could trust to do a thorough job.  He would be taking Shirley; which had been with the da Vinci since its Corps of Engineer days.  Whilst she’d be taking the Mona Lisa out on its first operational mission.

**********

At the same moment Chameleon in the guise of Ambrose Nichols had just been beamed across to the USS Stavanger from the Orion Pirate ship along with Nurse Sarah Folland, playing the role of his companion and lover.  She kept close by his side her hand brushing the back of his, in a sign of affection the Petty Officer hoped would look believable and genuine.

Were as he wore a finely tailor suit, or at least one that had been replicated to look expensive and well made; she had on a simple creamy coloured dress which almost reached her ankles.  It wasn’t the kind of clothing Sarah would normally choose to wear, but she did kind of like it.

Two people were there to greet them in the Transporter Room; one the typical muscular brut of an Orion, who probably used his fists more often than the Starfleet issue hand phaser he was holding.  It was almost lost between his chunky fingers.  The other man was dressed in a red Commanders Uniform and had his own weapon holstered.

Chameleon had worked with this man for several years and knew he’d been the one to try and kill them.  Given the chance he would have leapt forward and strangled the guy to death right there.  But that wouldn’t help the mission and would probably cost Nurse Folland her life.  She was certainly brave, and was he allowed to say ‘beautiful’.

So instead he held out his hand and the two shook.  “You must me Commander Armitage. “ Chameleon commented. “Navaar mentioned you during our first meeting.  There was no way of knowing if that was the truth, but Chameleon felt it more than likely.

“So what brings you here?”  Armitage questioned. “I wasn’t told to expect anyone.”

“Potential buyers wanted my opinion on this vessel before the committed themselves.” Chameleon replied.  “So I am merely here to check on the merchandise, as it were.”

“I should check with the boss.” The former commander mused.  “Tavil shouldn’t have brought you here without informing us first.”

Tavil was the Captain of Dagger 2, and it had been Chameleon who’d convinced him to bring them here unannounced.  “Apologies for that, it was entirely my fault. I was hoping to surprise Navaar.” 

“I’m afraid she’s not on board.” Armitage replied. “She’s gone to make her own arrangements. We had information Starfleet had you?”

“They did.  But I have enough friends in the right places.”  Chameleon didn’t know what friends Ambrose Nichols had or where they might be; but then this idiot wouldn’t know them either.  “I’ll just have to change the way I do things.  But they’re not going to stop me.”

“If I give you the guided tour; what about your companion here?” Armitage gestured towards Sarah.

“She knows as much about all this as I do.”  It was an honest enough statement, without giving away the fact neither of them knew all that much.  Right now they were just playing for time and hoping that the da Vinci was closing in at this very moment.

Armitage started by taking them to Main Engineering; were three Orion’s, a Benzite and a human were all working away.  “You look like you’re ready to go somewhere.”  Noted Chameleon, eyes scanning the room.

“Oh, we have to be.” Smiled Armitage. “Just in case the Federation show up again.”

In their last engagement they’d had the advantage of cloaked Romulan mines to protect the Stavanger, but those had been the only ones they’d managed to acquire.  Despite being around 70 years old, they’d done their job.  It was just a shame Captain Eglin had survived the battle.  That was twice Armitage had failed to kill his former colleague.

Further along Chameleon sensed there was something slightly off with this tour, but couldn’t figure out what.  A gently squeeze of Nurse Folland’s hand was meant to be reassuring to the young women.  Then the realisation of what part of the ship this was and that they’d acquired extra escorts.  Beyond the next set of doors, was the Brig.

“And this is where I must leave you, Chameleon, madam.” The smile was more sinister this time. “Don’t look so surprised.  It was a good trick, but since we received the same Transporter upgrades as every other Federation vessel right after Frontier Day.  I knew who you were from the very second you arrived.”

Chameleon and Folland were both marched into one of the Holding Cell, and the force field raised. “I’m sorry for getting you into this.”

“This time you’re going to stay dead.” Armitage gloated.

**********

From the cockpit of the Mona Lisa, Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley scanned the sensors for any sign of the pirate vessel or the stolen Norway-class.  They’d been out there for eighteen hours now, taking it in turns with the other members of her team to monitor things or eat and sleep.  Thought she herself had spent more time working than anyone else. ‘You do know I could put you to sleep.’  The voice of her husband courtesy of her symbiont sounded both worried and annoyed.  Though she wasn’t sure is a symbiont would ever do that to a host. ‘Just five more minutes and I’ll take a two hour rest.’

‘You said that, ten minutes ago!’

She only needed a minute of that extra time. “This is the Mona Lisa to da Vinci.  I have the Stavanger. Repeat I have located the USS Stavanger, and she appears to be alone.”

Navaar Orci sat in a high backed office style chair at one end of an oval shaped cobalt grey table, in the middle of a dimly lit conference room.  Standing behind her and just to the right, stood Korda; holding the Starfleet issue Type 3 phaser rifle he tended to have with him to protect his boss.  Korda was doing his best to look intimidating; which appeared to be having some effect on the rather young looking Romulan guards standing either side of the door.

The Orion leader couldn’t help but smile; her first office would eat those two for breakfast.  The smile did nothing to ease the nerves of the two guards, neither of which could have been more than a few months out of training.  She’d noticed that on the relatively short journey from the Transporter Room to where she now sat.  This was a young, inexperienced crew; being commanded by a fool.  But then Vice-proconsul A’Tevek was a fairly rich individual; and that was her reason for being here.

The man himself walked in a few minutes later; and she noticed how the two guards sprang to attention as the doors parted.  “My dear Navaar.” He greeted the Orion, with a warm smile and a high pitched voice which was more comical than menacing.  No wonder he was never taken seriously by anyone.  “I hope you’ve not been waiting long?”

He knew exactly how long she’s been waiting the pompous idiot. Knew the second she’d beamed over; the length of time it had taken her to walk here, and the drink one of his assistance had offered her.  The particular glass of Romulan Ale, was probably the worst Navaar had ever tasted.

“Not at all Vice-proconsul.” She smiled back. “I have been enjoying your hospitality and wonderful ship. I only wish I had something like it.” In reality the Orion didn’t think much of the vessel at all; it wasn’t even a warship.  This was nothing more than an old passenger liner with a few weapons attached lording over a section of space everyone else seemed to have largely ignored since the collapse of the Romulan Star Empire.  This man had been part of that empire and still retained his original title; as if one day they’d be restored to their former glory.  It wasn’t going to happen and A’Tevek certainly wasn’t going to be around to find out.

The sat opposite her, fingers interlaced elbows resting on the table. “Is everything in place?”

“I have a team installing some important software as we speak.” She reassured him; they’d probably already finished based on the amount of time that had passed since Navaar contacted the Stavanger.  “Once I have confirmation you’ve transferred payment; the ship will be sent on its way to attack your chosen target.”

“It’s as simple as that?” He questioned.

“A Federation ship, with Federation equipment and a Federation crew.”

The Vice-proconsul sat back in his chair, a stunned look on his face and the words struggling to form on his lips. “You have a crew?” He finally stuttered.

“In a fashion.”  The Orion started laughing; whilst A’Tevek looked at her bemused by what could be so funny, at such a serious moment.

**********

The USS da Vinci had retrieved her shuttles and moved in closer to the USS Stavanger, whilst the other two ships hung back.  Commander Anacostia-Bolling was puzzled; as were the rest of her senior staff.  Everything had been building up towards a potential confrontation.  Yet here was the ship they’d been trying to track down; just sitting there, as if it was waiting for them.

“I do not like this one bit.” It was her XO that brought a voice to everyone’s thoughts.

“I agree entirely number one.” The Commander replied. “And you say there is something blocking our scans, despite the shields being down?”

“Correct.” Alara replied. “Myself and Lieutenant Beriev have tried several adjustments and our sensors are unable to detect anything or anyone aboard.”

“Do we assume as no attempt has been made to surrender, run or fire upon us; that the ships empty?” The Commander queried.

“I’d like to say yes, but it just doesn’t add up.” Alara responded

“I could take a security team over.” Interjected Grav.

The Commander pondered her options a moment longer.  “Number one; take a team and secure the Bridge, Lieutenant Grav likewise secure Main Engineering.” She instructed them. “Once that’s done, conduct a coordinated sweep of the ship.  Deck by deck and room by room.”

“Understood.” The two officers replied in unison.

“Do you think Chameleon and Nurse Folland are still aboard?” The Trill XO asked her Captain.

“I’ve got no idea. I just hope they’re ok.” Was her honest answer.

**********

For now Chameleon and Folland were both safe; though both feeling a little worse for wear.  They’d spent several hours in a cell aboard the stolen starship since Armitage had revealed he’d known who Chameleon was and not Ambrose Nichols, which was the form he’d assumed for this part of the mission.

The human/ Chameliod genetically engineered hybrid was angry and frustrated.  The ability to become anyone had made them virtually impossible to differentiate from the original person.  Scanners could tell a lot; but they were never perfect, especially when dealing with something or someone they’d never encountered before.  It had been the same with the Transporters.  If you looked like a person and possessed the correct antonym, all in the right places, the system assumed you must be that person.  The Changelings had exploited that defect to perfection.  That anomaly had been dealt with, and they had been captured because of it.

Nurse Folland head rested in Chameleons lap; she’d been like that a good half hour, just staring at the slowly pulsing wall of energy that separated the two of them from freedom.  They’d been there hours; it could even have been a day for all they knew.  There was nothing to indicate the passing of time, and no one had come to check on them.

Food and water had been left for them in the form of Starfleet Standard Issue Ration Packs.  Enough to last them a couple of days; longer if the stretched it out a little.  Armitage seemed to indicate they were here to die.  So why had they seemingly been abandoned; starving them didn’t seem the man’s style, not if they’d been give some food at any rate.

Sarah thought she should be more scared than she was feeling right now.  This wasn’t exactly her first away mission, but it was certainly unlike any she’d done before.  She felt safe in the presence of Chameleon, and knew he wouldn’t let any harm come to her.  For now that was enough to calm her nerves.

**********

Six figures appeared on the Bridge of the USS Stavanger; as the blue columns of transporter energy around them dissipated.  Armed to security members stood either side of the group, with Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley, Doctor Sunny and a pair of engineers in the middle.  The scene that confronted them would have been almost normal had it not been for the bodies.  Five in total; all dressed in standard issue Starfleet uniforms, each of them sat as it they were ready and waiting for orders.  Only one of them was known to any of the away team.

Doctor Sunny scanned the former Commander William Armitage.  “He’s been dead about eight hours.” The doctor commented. “I’d have to get him back to the ship before I could give you any more details.” He moved on to check the others.

The two engineers were working away at the controls, but couldn’t seem to gain access to any of the ships systems.  Alara moved over to the science station and tried from there, only to get the same response.  Grav reported in from Main Engineering.  Three bodies had been discovered there; and the engineer with him, faced the same issues.  Everything on the ship was locked down.

The first thing anyone noticed was a faint hum; then all the screens seemed to blink as if everything was resetting.  The engineer wondered if they’d somehow cracked it.  Then a message appeared in big bold text; a harbinger of doom and herald of destruction.

  < < FLEET FORMATION MODE ACTIVATED > >

On the Bridge of the USS da Vinci; as with the Bridges of the other ships in the small Taskforce and that of the vessel they’d come to recapture; there was a sense of collective confusion.  First was the realisation that this whole operation had one more twist and the second was what the USS Stavanger  was about to do.

Protocols dictated when and where a ship could engage warp drive.  Travelling at speeds many times faster than light within a planetary system could be dangerous.  The orbits of every planet, moon, etc. had to be calculated to avoid collision.  So whilst not impossible; ships tended to make their approaches at sub-light speeds.

So when the Norway-class vessel sat in front of them raised shields and jumped to warp 6 from orbit in the space of a few seconds; it caught everyone flat footed.

“Lay in a pursuit course and get us up to warp 7 the moment we’re clear!” Yelled Commander Anacostia-Bolling to her Helms Officer; whilst to her Communication Officer.  “Signal the others to follow.”

She sat forward in the captain’s chair hands clasped together.  Her crew, including the XO were now trapped on that ship; until she could stop it or they could figure out a way of disabling it from on board.   The other ship had a head start, but by going faster, catching it up wouldn’t take long.  But where were they heading, that was the question.  The answer was confirmed a few minutes later; they were heading into Klingon territory.  That was not a good sign at all.

**********

Ten minutes later the Commander was sat in her Ready Room talking to her two fellow captains.  Both Commander’s  Salan and Kayto seemed relatively calm and relaxed, both sat aboard their relevant ships; though understandably Vulcan’s never looked panicked and Betazoid’s had a general grasp of emotions.  Neither of which did much to help Anacostia-Bolling.

At the moment it wasn’t clear what the Stavanger’s destination was; it was understood from Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley’s last message; before being cut off, that the Fleet Formation system had been re-activated and that the ship was now operating on a set of pre-programmed instructions.  Along or close to its current path, lay four planets inhabited by the Klingons.  None of them were anything significant, but if a Federation vessel was to suddenly turn up and attack one of them; who knows how fast things could spiral out of control.  They could be hours away from starting another war, that ship had to be stopped.

It was the Captain of the Sizemore who came up with the first suggestion of a workable plan. “Inverse Graviton burst.”  It was in a report he vaguely recalled regarding destabilising a ships warp bubble.  A few minutes later Kayto had the relevant information and was able to pass it on to his colleagues.

“Yes, I remember now.” Salan looked thoughtfully at the data. “It was used by one of the Klingons greatest warriors, Dahar Master Kor: to drop a fleet of ten Jem’Hadar fighters out of warp.”

“How would we deal with the shields?” Anacostia-Bolling enquired.

“The Norway-class is fitted with Graviton shields.” The Sizemore’s captain replied cheerfully.  “A big enough burst would render those temporarily inoperative.”

“I believe that assumption to be correct.” Added the Vulcan.  “The USS Stavanger would be unable to use either its warp drive or shielding for approximately two minutes.”

“Who’s got the best equipment for this task?” A-B asked.

“I think the Sizemore has the most robust main deflector, out of the three of use.” The Betazoid replied with a nod of agreement from the Vulcan.

The rest of their conversation involved formulating the plan and how they would coordinate their efforts to stop the rogue vessel without injuring any of the da Vinci’s crew currently trapped on board.  When it was concluded Commander Kayto headed off to have a word with his Chief Engineer about making the required adjustments to the Main Defector.  It would also require the Sizemore travelling at emergency warp to get far enough ahead to get in position.

**********

Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley and the rest of her party were stuck on the Bridge of the USS Stavanger, now under computer control and hurtling towards Klingon space. Attempts by herself and the two engineers in the group had been blocked.  The turbo-lift appeared to be out of action; so the security guards were looking for other means of escape.  There had been no word from Lieutenant Grav since the vessel had become active again.

The Trill looked across to the Captains Ready Room, were the body they’d discovered, had been moved to.   Former Starfleet Command Armitage had been shot in the back by a disrupter at relatively close range; no more than an hour or so before they’d first sighted the ship.  May be the Orion who led this group had decided he was of no further use to her.  According to doctor Sunny; the others had died at various times and their bodies frozen, which made calculating when death had occurred rather difficult using just a medical tricorder.  He was almost certain that two of them had been killed in a mining accident.

That interesting piece of information, just added more to the puzzle.  Was Navaar Orci operating a mine somewhere, or had someone supplied her with dead bodies to represent a skeleton crew.  That particular line of thought only brought a groan from Alara’s symbiont.

She sat on the smooth surface of the forward console looking around for any inspiration.  ‘Mary won’t give up on use, you know that.’ That inner calm voice of her late husband hoped to reassure her.  ‘And what if it’s the difference between us and the lives of a planet full of people?’ She replied.

‘We just keep trying until all else fails.’  Was the answer she received.

‘I knew there was a reason I married you.’

‘What, just one?’

Alara smile. ‘Ok, this ship hasn’t beaten us yet.’

Then there was a shout, one of the security officers had made it through to deck 2.  If they could get to deck 4, they could possible reach the Computer Core and disable the ship from there.

**********

Down in Main Engineering, Lieutenant Grav and his group were making just as much progress; in fact technically even less, because were as those on the bridge had access to all the controls but could get the computer to release control; a set of force fields prevented anyone from touching anything.  The Tellarite Security Chief had even fired his phaser on full power directly at the warp core.  The only effect being a rippling wall of energy and a few panicked faces.

There was nothing to stop them walking out, or going anywhere else, they just couldn’t touch any of the controls here in engineering.  With that in mind; one of the engineers came up with the same idea that had been reached on the Bridge, head for the Computer Core and shut it down.  Grav pointed to one of the two security men with them.   “Edwards go with him, you shouldn’t run into any one legged Nausicaan’s.  But keep a sharp look out.” The man nodded and followed the engineer out of the room; wishing his boss hadn’t reminded him of how badly he’d handled a seemingly simple task.

Just like the equipment and controls in Main Engineer, access to the ships Computer Core was blocked by a force field.  Time and options were starting to run out.

**********

Morning on board the USS Sizemore came with a mix of hope and trepidation.  Commander Kayto was immensely proud of the hard work his engineers had all put in to get the Main Deflector prepared.  The ship now sat directly in the path of the runaway starship; ready to fire an Inverse Graviton Burst as the Norway-class came into range.

“Target in range in three minutes.” The calm steady voice of the Tactical Officer announced.

“Standby, we only get one chance at this.” The Commander’s voice sounded louder in the near silence.

Target in range in two.” She stopped a second. “Target altering course; taking avoiding action.”

“Can we still fire?” Shouted  Kayto.

“Negative Captain, the Stavanger stayed out of range.”

He slammed his fist into the arm of his chair.  Ten hours that ship had stayed on this heading and now moments before they could strike, it turned.  Outsmarted by a computer!

“Helm, get after that damned ship.” The Betazoid ordered, and then taking a deep breath he calmed himself.  “You did your best. But we’re not giving up.”

It had taken a while; crawling through Jeffries Tubes and forcing open a couple of doors along the way, but eventually Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley and her team had met up with Lieutenant Grav and his group.  Between them the Trill and Tellarite discussed what they and the engineers with them had tried so far.

“We fired three phasers at those shields on maximum and still couldn’t penetrate them.”  The Tellarite Security chief grumbled. “It’s drawing on a lot of power to stop us.”

“Not enough that it would need to take power from the warp drive and slow down though.” Alara replied. “There are plenty of redundant systems it could use first.”

‘Including life support.’  The ever present voice inside whispered sombrely. ‘Computers don’t need oxygen.’ That was a dark and chilling thought.  Would the computer really shut life support down, to protect itself?  The problem was she couldn’t rule that possibility out.

“Short of blowing the ship up, I can’t see a way of stopping it before it gets to wherever we’re heading.”  Grav flung his hands up in frustration.

“Klingon space.” Alara informed him. “We managed to figure that much out from the Bridge.”

“Oh, just great. We’re going to start a war, aren’t we?” The Tellarite moaned.

“How could be blow up the ship if we can’t tamper with the controls?” The Trill questioned him.

“Detonate a few torpedoes.” Grav replied after thinking for a moment.

“Look into it.” Alara responded.  “Take an engineer with you.”

The Tellarite simply pointed at the first of the engineers to look in his direction and signalled for the man to follow him.  The Lieutenant-Commander then walked over towards two of the other engineers. “Chris, Niroc; I want the pair of you to check on the shuttle craft.  We may need them in order to get off this ship.”

Lieutenant Grav had sent two of his men off to the Brig; to see if Nurse Folland and Chameleon were being held there.  She was trying to think what else needed sorting out; the voice inside was happy to remind her, with one simple word. ‘Bodies.’  Yes that was it; Doctor Sunny wanted to take all the bodies they’d discovered with them.  He felt it was only fair to treat them with more respect that the Orion’s clearly had, and to find out who these people were.  They could hold key information regarding where they’d been kept.  It wasn’t exactly going to be an easy task, without the use of the lifts.  Then again, nothing seemed all that easy at the moment.

**********

Nurse Sarah Folland jumped, her eyes flew open with a panicked look on her face as she sat up.  Her breathing was heavy and slightly laboured.   A bad dream or reality, her mind was clouded for a moment; vision taking a moment to focus on what little was around her.  A hand touched hers and a reassuring voice asked.  “Are you ok?”

She turned and looked into the eyes of a total stranger and yet someone she’d come to know over the last few days. Sarah nodded.  “I dreamt I was in a prison cell.” She looked around, it was no dream, she was really in a cell.  “How long was I asleep?”

“Around three or four hours.” Chameleon announced.  “Not all that easy to tell.”

“I don’t want to die in here.” Folland pleaded.

“Hopefully you won’t have to, miss.” It was a third voice, which made the nurse look across to the force-field that held them prisoner.  Two Starfleet security guards stood in the main part of the brig. “Crewman Denisov, I’ll have you both out in a moment.” The one on the left introduced himself before stepping towards the key pad that operated the force-field.

The Chief had managed to get access to some of the security codes prior to them boarding the Stavanger: by contacting the last person to hold that position on the vessel, before its retirement; and he hoped no one had bothered to change them since then.  For once luck was on their side, and the energy barrier dissolved into nothing.  Allowing the two captives to step to their freedom.  Sarah was a little unsteady so Chameleon helped by supporting her as she gingerly stepped forward.

“So are you the rescue party then, Mr. Denisov?” Chameleon asked; he still had the appearance of Ambrose Nichols, but this security guard probably wasn’t aware of what Nichols looked like.

“It’s a little complicated at the moment.” Denisov replied.  “For now, please follow me.”

Chameleon put an arm around Sarah’s waist and held her gently her head moved to rest against their chest.  In the role Chameleon once had; forming any sort of attachment to someone was nearly impossible.  How couldn’t anyone love a thing?  A genetically created anomaly; with the ability to look like and become anyone else they’d seen.  Yet having witnessed one of these transformations first hand, this young woman had made Chameleon feel the closest to being normal as they ever had.  It was a weird feeling to have.

**********

Lieutenant Grav had met another ‘brick wall’, or rather force-field.  The computer had clearly figured out or at least those that had programmed in the instructions for it: that the Photon and Quantum Torpedoes could be turned into a bomb.  It had therefore sealed those sections of the ship off.   He and the engineer could get within arm’s reach of the security door, but no closer.

When he arrived back at the crew mess, were everyone had assembled together he noticed his men had returned with Chameleon and Nurse Folland.  She was sitting on one of the tables being checked over by Doctor Sunny.  She looked shaken but otherwise in good health.  Whilst Chameleon was sat over at another table; talking to the Lieutenant-Commander.

“I can’t believe he’s dead.”  Chameleon was visibly stunned.  A large part of why he’d agreed to help with this mission had been the thought of confronting Armitage.  The man they’d spent several years working with, in Covert Operations, and the man who’d tried to kill them.  The former Commander had known who Chameleon was, despite the disguise.  Now everything seemed an anti-climax.  “Why have him killed though.”

“May be he’d become a liability?” Pondered Alara. “Do you need a Starfleet Officer if you no longer have a Starfleet vessel for them to command?”

“If that was the case, why wasn’t that Bellbrooke guy’s body here?” Grav enquired, joining the conversation.

“You have a point Lieutenant.” Agreed Alara. “This all seemed like a rush on the one hand, and yet carefully planned on the other.”

“This Navaar Orci comes across as a rather random and chaotic woman.”  Chameleon mused.

‘You can say that again!’ Alara’s symbiont laughed dryly; but of cause only she heard it.  There was another thought, her own thought.  ‘What made the Chief Engineer stand out?’

“He’s still here!” She blurted out.”

“Who?” The Tellarite asked puzzled by the outburst.

“Bellbrooke is still on or near this ship.” She answered. “No way they had the time to reprogram everything and let her head off unaided.  They need someone close at hand to deal with anything unforeseen.”  The XO was annoyed that she’d not figured it out before; but then again so was Ley her Symbiont who had many more years of experience.

“We need to search the hull of this ship.” Grav announced.  “Security; grab yourselves a suit each, we’re going for a walk.”

Five space suited figures slowly and carefully made their way across the outer hull of the Norway-class vessel.  Each carried a phaser; drawn and pointing in the general direction they were moving.  They were spread out to cover as much area of the ship was possible, yet close enough to spot any hand signals being used by the individual at the centre of the line.

A thin finger tapped the monitor screen which was relaying the image. “I thought you said they wouldn’t know we were here?”  The Romulan Sub-Commander who’s finger it was growled.  “If this operation goes wrong, Vice-proconsul A’Tevek will expect to be repaid in full.”

Bellbrooke ignored the irritated office behind him and continued to check his reading, confirming a few details with the pilot seated next to him in the cloaked Romulan shuttle craft.  “We arrive at the target in five minutes. They won’t reach us before then.”

The Sub-Commander muttered something under his breath, but kept his eyes focused on the slowly advancing figures.  Whilst it was true to say they were still some distance away, they would eventually discover the location of the shuttle.  Even if they never saw it; one of them was eventually going to walk right into the craft, with a bump.   However he didn’t even have to wait until that happened.

The figure at the centre raised his hand; and indication for everyone to stop.  The Romulan wished they’d only monitored rather than block all communications.  Whilst it meant the Starfleet officers and crew couldn’t talk to each other, it also meant he had no clear indication of what they were doing.

The same figure raised the phaser they were carrying. “No you can’t see use?” It was both a statement and question rolled into one.  Whether they could see the cloaked shuttle or not, made no difference.  They fired anyway.  Had there been nothing to hit, the beam of energy would have just carried on.  Instead a point of light glowed in the nothingness.   Moments later the rest of the group joined him in firing.

Sparks flew and something on the consul just behind the pilot; short-circuited.  Cloaked the shuttle had no shields and at this range even hand held energy weapons could cause minor damage. “Get our shields up.”  Yelled the Sub-Commander to the pilot.

“They’ll see us!” Bellbrooke shouted back at the Romulan.

“As if that’s going to make any difference now, you fool!” The Romulan barked.  The shuttle was now fully visible, but at least it could no longer be damaged by the pitifully small weapons the five Federation personnel, carried.

“Two minutes to target.” Bellbrooke informed them; making one last check on the USS Stavanger’s weapons.  “The USS da Vinci and Sizemore are right behind use.”

“You better be able to get use clear once this ship opens fire.”  The Sub-Commander aimed the comment at both the former chief engineer and the pilot.  “I have little wish to turn this into a suicide mission.”

“We’ll re-engage the cloak just before we disengage.” Responded Bellbrooke. “Dropping us out of warp 10, 9, 8….”

The Romulan shuttle was anchored to a point on the hull just off the port side of the bridge; had Lieutenant Grav and his team approached from the rear of the Norway-class ship they would never have been near to it in time.  The XO had made suggestions as were a ship might be attached.  Close to the Bridge and the ships computer core, for ease of communication with it.  The Tellarite had felt he could just see something; a slight distortion in the hull plating; it had been enough to convince him to open fire.  His hunch had proven correct.  But this had all been part of a carefully calculated distraction.

**********

Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley, had carefully piloted the shuttle craft Viking from its hanger and way now flying it within a metre of its parent vessel.  Keeping it within the Stavanger’s warp bubble; meant the two craft travelled as one.  There was little room for error; too low and she could strike the hull, too high and the shuttle would make an abrupt and possibly catastrophic exit from the warp bubble.  It helped that host number three had been an accomplished pilot; she was a pretty good pilot herself and her husband had been equally as good.  So all that knowledge and skill combined into one individual; certainly made a difference in challenging situation like this.

It had only been a theory put forward by one of the engineers that a small craft might be attached, though they’d not detected one from the da Vinci before beaming over, but that didn’t rule out something with a cloak.  Lieutenant Grav and his security team had very kindly forced the Romulan shuttle to reveal itself, and also hopeful distract whoever was on board.

Alara had no idea who was on the shuttle, or that one of them was about to say the number ‘7’ as part of their countdown, as she rammed the Type 6 she was piloting into its side.  The Trill XO was jolted in her seat by the impact of the two small craft.  The momentum was enough to overcome the magnetic clamps holding the Romulan in place causing it to drift sideways.  It struck the hull plating around the Bridge section of the Stavanger; sending into a slow motion spin.

**********

The Romulan Sub-Commander lay dazed on the floor having been flung off his feet by the sudden and unexpected impact.  Bellbrooke was half out of his seat; having just been able to hold on, the pilot next to him had clearly cracked his head on the control surface in front of him.  He lay face down on it, a faint trace of blood running down the angled touch screen interface.

The former Starfleet officer had two choices; send the final commands to the ship as it now dropped out of warp, or shove the unconscious pilot out the way and steady the shuttle.  He chose to commence the attack; even if he was about to be captured or killed; his final actions would be to start a war between the Klingon’s and the Federation.  A Federation that had through its incompetence had resulted in the death of his entire family on Mars.  Navaar Orci may have thought she controlled him, and to start with that had been true; but his thirst for vengeance was much stronger than any hypnotise or drug she’d used on him over the years.  What made it even sweeter was the fact that a small breakaway Romulan faction had bought this ship to start the war. Today would mark the beginning of the end for what he saw as his enemy.

A small Klingon mining platform sat on an unremarkable looking moon and the space station in close orbit; would be the first things to be ripped apart by torpedo’s and Phaser fire.  Even the combined efforts of the da Vinci and Sizemore couldn’t stop it in time; and the longer they took the more devastation and havoc he could create.

He’d killed Armitage the only other person that could have overridden his commands and brought all this to an end.  Bellbrooke leaned back, closed his eyes and begun laughing hysterically, nothing was going to stop him.

**********

On the Bridge of the USS da Vinci what seemed like chaos to any outside observer was in fact a well-oiled machine in operation.  The Saber-class vessel dropped out of warp, mere seconds behind the ship they were pursuing; and less three minutes before the USS Sizemore joined them.

Commander Anacostia-Bolling sat in the Captain’s seat as reports came at her from all sides.  But the Bridge crew were skilled and disciplined enough not to interrupt each other and only give her the information she needed to make her decisions.

The USS Stavanger had its shields up and was charging all weapons; ready to fire at a Klingon mining facility, with an estimated 250 individual working there.  On the hull five space suited figures had been spotted; along with a Federation shuttle and A Romulan one.  All this added to the difficulty of aiming at the renegade vessel and the chances of killing Starfleet personnel.

As the first pair of Quantum Torpedoes leapt from the Stavanger’s forward tubes and phaser fire lanced towards the mine; its destruction within minutes looked a foregone conclusion, yet someone had very different ideas.  The Vor’cha-class Attack Cruiser Qu’vatlh; sat waiting for the perfect moment to reveal itself and with all the power it could provide to its forward shields, absorb the onslaught.

By now the now the Romulan shuttle had drifted further from the Norway-class vessel, presenting itself as a more favourable target.  Commander Anacostia-Bolling stood behind the Ensign at Tactical; watching the same set of reading they were. “Fire!”

**********

The last thing former Starfleet Chief Engineer Thomas Arthur Bellbrooke witnessed was the Klingon Vor’cha bringing an end to all his hopes of vengeance.  Seconds later; the shields of the shuttle collapsed and a hull breach killed himself and the two Romulan’s aboard.

With no external commands or influence the USS Stavanger carried on with it last orders, and fired more torpedoes striking the Klingon vessels shielding.

A second shuttle carrying the rest of the away team now made a dash for safety as the USS da Vinci was able to beam Lieutenant Grav and his security guards off the hull.  Last to hobble clear was the XO in her slightly dented shuttle.

The da Vinci, Sizemore and Qu’vatlh all opened fire; even the Jaxartes was able to arrive just in time to hasten the doom of the USS Stavanger.   Finally its career as a pirate ship and potential instrument of war was over.

**********

The image of an old and greying Klingon warrior appeared on the view screen of the USS da Vinci.  “I trust you have accounted for all your crew?”

“Yes General Matora.” Answered Commander Anacostia-Bolling .  “Thank you once again for your assistance and believing everything I’d told you about the situation.”

The Klingon started to laugh, the turned and barked a brief order to one of his subordinates.  Three Klingon Birds of Prey de-cloaked above and just behind the Vor’cha.  “Who said I believed you?”  He leaned back in his chair.  “Now I’ve played my part, but I suggest you leave Klingon space immediately.”

“Don’t worry we know when were not wanted General.”

“Vaj ngoQ’e’laH.” The Klingon laughed again and so did other members of his bridge crew, before transmission was cut.

“Helm; take use out of here.” The Commander ordered. “And someone explain to me what he just said!?”

Commander Anacostia-Bolling stood looking out of the window of her ready room as the stars streaked past, the USS da Vinci was only doing warp 4; with the mission completed and having cleared Klingon territory, there wasn’t as much need to race around.  But was the mission really over?  The USS Stavanger was no more, and although it had been sent on a mission of destruction, in the hope of igniting a war between the Klingon Empire and the Federation; watching and being partly responsible for demise, had been hard.  She’d witnessed too many fine vessels meet a fiery end in battle during the course of this year.  Would 2402 prove any better?

Navaar Orci was still out there amongst the stars; free and able to plot more mayhem.  At least she no longer had a Federation ship to guide her pirate ships to their targets.  That part at least, was good news.  Two former Starfleet officers were dead because of her, though; both had once been brilliant men, but fate and circumstances had changed them.  She had taken advantage of that and moulded them into her loyal henchmen.

What to, of the unknown group of Romulan’s that had either aligned themselves with her, or merely used the ship to further their own ends?  Did they have other plans in place to destabilise the region?

The door gave a whistling chirp, bringing the Commander out of her thoughts; indicating someone wanted to gain access. “Enter.” She called from the other side of the room, without turning round.  It was Ensign Dravid, her Logistics Officer.  As usual he had a Padd with him.  She was starting to wonder if he slept with it: either cuddled to his chest or tucked under his pillow.  To be fair though, he was a miracle worker and all the Department Heads aboard ship had been more than happy with what he’d achieved in getting equipment and stocks they’d needed.  How he did it, he was yet to explain; she just hoped it wasn’t anything underhand or illegal.

“I’ve added the shuttle craft Viking to our inventory. ma’am.”  He announced, in his usual cheerful manner.  “How should I list the Norge?”

Norge was the name of the Stavanger’s other shuttle; the one she’d loaned to Chameleon.  Not that the Commander was ever expecting to get in back. “I don’t believe we have a shuttle by that name.” She replied tilting her head to one side.

Ensign Dravid looked puzzled for a moment, before realising what it was the Commander was indirectly telling him.  “I see ma’am, it was destroyed in the fighting.”

“That is how it would appear, Ensign.” Anacostia-Bolling nodded.

Happy that everything was in order, the young man made his exit.  Leaving Mary to her own thoughts and to gaze at the stars beyond the window.

**********

Tools lay scattered in a haphazard fan space around the half hidden body of an engineer.  Half hidden that is, because it was partly underneath the dented front end of a Type 6 shuttle craft.  A hand came down searching by touch alone, finding the required tool on the third attempt.

“Enjoying yourself under there?” Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley asked the engineer.

“Oh, me. Just wonderful, absolutely wonderful.” Was the muffled reply, she received.  “This was a half descent craft despite its age, until the XO used it as a battering ram!”

“That bad?” Alara enquired.

“It’s now five centimetres shorter than spec and I can’t get the clamps to disengage.” The guy grumbled from underneath.  “If I can get the nose off, I can at least assess the damage inside.”

“Need a hand?” The Trill XO asked, not revealing who she was to him.

“Pass me the type 2 wrench.”

“What’s that look like?” Ley’s hosts had been many things, but none had ever worked in Engineering or done maintenance.

There was a pause, as if the engineer under the shuttle was running something through his mind. “You’re not part of the maintenance team are you?” He started to slide out slowly; first noting the nice clean boots, the black pants legs.  He was most of the way out before the red, indicating someone in command, came into his line of sight.  There weren’t all that many people it could be, only two of them female and one just the right height. “Ah yes, about what I just said.”

She held up her hand to stop him doing any further.  “That’s quite alright Chief Petty Officer Rockwell.  I did rather give it a whack.”  ‘But then you should see the other guy.’ Her symbiont added, but then the Chief would never hear that.

Rockwell located the tool he’d originally asked for, and shook it in his hand. “I’ll just keep at it.”

“You do that Chief.”  She tried her hardest to keep a straight face at the man’s clear discomfort, but once he’d ducked out of sight; had to smile.

The USS da Vinci now had four shuttle craft.  There was a Type 11 with the name Shirley which had been on the ships roster since 2378; after the previous craft of that name had been destroyed the year before.  A pair of Type 12’s with the name Mona Lisa and Isabella; and of cause now the much older; veteran Type 6 Viking.

Lieutenant-Commander Alara Ley continued on her tour of the ship; it was something she tried to do as often as possible.  It was her way of assessing the mood of the crew and how everything was going on board.

**********

For most of the officers and crew, everything was going well and the general mood was an upbeat, positive one.  They had been successful in thwarting a plot to start a war; not bad for a ships first mission with its current crew.  Though the majority did understand it wouldn’t always be this dramatic.

One individual was not feeling the joy and relief of a successfully concluded mission.  Right now Nurse Sarah Folland, didn’t feel much like celebrating anything, and her mind clearly wasn’t on the task at hand.

“You know that clamp won’t float its way over to me by itself.” Doctor Sunny’s words were soft, a little more calm than he could be at times.  He’s harshness was usually directed at those patients who’d done something rather stupid or hadn’t listened to previous advice.  To his staff, as small in number as they were; he was kind and sympathetic.

Right now he had his hands inside someone’s body, not exactly the best position for a heartfelt chat.  The body belonged to one of those found on the USS Stavanger.  The doctor was glad they’d been able to loud the bodies into the shuttles, even if that had made it a tight squeeze for all those involved.  This particular body was a male, in his late thirties from the look of him; malnourished, several broken bones and cracked ribs.  There was a dragon tattoo on his right shoulder and a small sun shaped one on the back of his right wrist.  The man had been washed and shaved sometime after death.  The cut under the chin and absence of blood indicated the later; were as he looked too clean for a miner, which is what Doctor Sunny believed this man had been, up until his death.

Nurse Folland handed him the clamp. “Sorry doc.” She replied apologetically.

Whilst modern scanning equipment could render real time three dimensional representations of complete bodies; Doctor Sunny still preferred the old hands on method of post-mortem examinations; which was why he’d physically sliced this individual open to look inside.

“You miss him, don’t you?” The doctor enquired, referring to Chameleon.

“Am I stupid to?” Folland pondered.  “A few days’ seems hardly enough time to form a connection.”

“And yet you have?” Sunny added

“I felt so safe, even when I thought I was going to die.” She sighed. “Does that make any sense?”

“In a way, it does.” The doctor continued with his examination at the same time.

“Everyone seems to see an assassin, spy, a tool, some sort of creature then.” Sarah intoned.  “There’s a person in there just like you and me.”

“May be your paths will cross again.” The doctor mussed.  “Space may be vast, but stranger things have happened.”

“By nature of being able to change form, how would I know? Folland asked.

“You won’t have changed.” Offered Sunny.

Sarah had tried to convince Chameleon to stay; but forming any sort of relationship with someone, despite the bond they’d developed wasn’t something on the cards; at least not for now.  There was something Chameleon desperately wanted to know, a question that had been on their mind for years; and it involved a search they felt they needed to take alone.

**********

A few days later:

A woman in her late thirties; with shoulder length auburn hair, framing a thin face with high cheekbones, thin nose and grey eyes, took a seat at the bar.  She adjusted the silvery grey jacket of the suit she was wearing, under which was a cream coloured blouse.  The bartender asked her what she was having and returned with the Brandy a moment later.

“I’m Alex, Alex Forbes.” The bartender introduced himself. “I don’t recall seeing you here before.”

“Susan Demin, but you can just call me Sue.” The woman smiled back. “I only arrived yesterday.”

“So Sue, what brings you to Elysium?”  He enquired, always happy to chat with new and old customers alike.

“I’m tracing my ancestors.” Sue informed him.

Alex was rather puzzled by that comment, it was clear this woman was human, so why was she out here on the fringe looking for long lost family members.  “Where are you planning on looking?”

“Rura Penthe.” She answered before taking a sip of Brandy and walking away from the now stunned man behind the bar.