Commanding Officers’ Log,
Supplemental

“We have arrived at the rendezvous point with the Dilithium Transport Ship, just outside the Lorillia System, in the Ceres Sector Block. There is approximately 7 light-years of space between us and Starbase 12, the perfect spot for an ambush. The Fox will be following behind the transport just inside sensor range, running silent, to monitor its activity. With any luck, our prey will be too busy stealing the dummy Dilithium to notice.”

[4 Hours Later]

[“Captain to the Bridge”] the loudspeaker echoed in Michael’s quarters. Dropping his PADD, both he and his father rushed to the turbo lift. As the doors swished open, the Bridge was already buzzing with activity, Archie rising from the captain’s chair. “My apologies, Commander. But the transport is reporting possible contacts.” He reported.

Michael took his seat at the center of the bridge, while Pops took over the vacant Science station. “Multiple contacts off starboard, 28km away, bearing 093 Mark 27,” Yeager reported from the helm. “All stop. Trixie, please go to low power, rig for silent running. Don’t need them spotting us on the horizon and getting spooked.” Michael ordered.

The Fox came to a dead standstill in the open void of space, as all non-essential systems shut down, exterior lights, and all but sensors, communications, and life support remained. She was just shy of 100th of a lightyear away, and at Maximum warp, they could swoop in just under a minute, but they did not want to be seen, not yet anyway.

“Any ID?” Michael asked. Romen at Tactical shook his head, “No sir, so far it’s a jumble of transponder codes and random ship parts. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were Pakled. We do have a positive lock on 5 vessels. 4 Fighters and 1 Frigate.” The tactical officer announced.

“Well, explains the description of junk ships,” Yeager commented. “Frigate is probably the mule,” Pops added. “Order the transport to raise shields, and begin evasive maneuvers. Standard spook tactics.” Michael commanded. The Transport was running on pure automation to limit the risk of life; however, the sensors showed a false reading of 13 crewmen on board to deter the pirates from boarding and discovering their ploy.

“Weapons fire detected. Starboard shields down 68%.” Romen broadcast. “68% on the first volley?” Archie inquired. “Yeah, looks like they’re using Tetryon Beams specifically to bring down the shields,” Romen stated, his eyes affixed to his screen. Meanwhile, the telemetry data was being broadcast on the main viewer, as tiny indicators swarmed around the icon representing the freighter. “Smart…” Michael admitted aloud. “…jamming?” Michael inquired. Romen shook his head again, “Not yet, if they were, we would experience interference.”

“Probably think they can get in and out before anyone even responds. Have the transport send a distress call anyway to make it believable, and arm its turrets to return fire, full spread.” Michael directed.

The Bridge stayed silent as all eyes were glued to the screen, watching the battle unfold; the only sound was the distress call they had activated. “Shields down, I’m already detecting transports,” Romen announced. Just then, there was a flash on the screen as one of the indicators for the pirate fighters flickered and faded from view. “What happened?!” Michael asked.

“Transport got a lucky shot on one of the fighters, but its own Freighter took it out. It’s over sir, they’re warping away.” Romen declared. “How much did they make off with?” Michael asked. “Looks like 37% of the Cargo,” Archie confirmed from another station. “Enough to track?” Michael continued.

“Yup, I got them. Warp 6. Trajectory shows their running hot and fast…to the Arachnid Nebula.” Pops announced.

“Damn it…” Michael cursed. “I needn’t point out that the Arachnid Nebula is over 8 billion kilometers in diameter; if they are hiding in there, no wonder the Federation has not been able to pinpoint them,” Archie informed the group.

“Computer says it’s composed of an extremely dense concentration of Disodium and traces of ethyl chlorate. And if the name has any indication, it’s probably filled with spiders.” Pops chimed in.

“Dad…” Michael stifled a snicker, trying to remain professional. “…How long before they reach the nebula?” Michael asked, turning his attention to Yeager. “Current speed, I’d say 6 hours. We could catch them if we hit max warp.” The helmsman reported.

“No…Match their speed and set a parallel course. Don’t need them getting an intercept warning. And keep running silent. As soon as they hit the nebula, adjust course and speed to enter where they did.” Michael ordered. “Sir…I feel I should advise that we should contact Starbase 12, and seek further support from Commander Skaro.” Archie crossed.

Michael shook his head, “We lose their trail in the nebula, we will never find them, even with the tracers on the Dilithium. We go in right behind them, and we can track their movements from the particulate disturbances in the disodium concentrate, like tracks in the sand. Wait too long, and solar winds will wipe those tracks away, and this mission is a bust.”

Though still a bit concerned, Archie nodded in approval, “Aye, sir.” Michael rose from his chair and crossed over to the communications station. Silently, he typed away furiously for a minute before completing his work, “Ok, I’ll be in my quarters, advise of any changes. You have the bridge, Archie.”

Michael left the bridge via the Turbolift again, leaving everyone else to carry out his orders. As Yeager piloted the Fox on its new course, Romen looked curiously at the communications terminal. “What did he do?” the tactical officer asked. Archie crossed the bridge and looked at the terminal log. “It appears the Commander sent an encrypted short band transmission…” the first officer replied.

“To who?” Pops inquired. “I’m not sure. Though I am sure the commander has his reasons that will be apparent to us when the time permits…I hope.” Archie proclaimed, hesitantly.

[7 Hours Later]

The Fox had entered the Arachnid Nebula shortly after the Pirate convoy, with no indication they had been spotted. The trail left behind by the pirates was like the wake of a ship along the water, allowing the Fox to effortlessly follow a safe distance behind. Assuming they had not been followed, the Pirates had made a beeline for their base of operations just inside the nebula, a Class-C planetoid with a large carrier vessel in orbit.

On the view screen, they could see the image of the vessel the fighters were docking inside. The nebula was interfering too much with long-range sensors, and Michael was hesitant to use short-range sensors, for fear of tipping their location too early, so they had to go off-line of sight. “Looks like Orion.” Archie deduced. “Barge Class, ship database calculates high probability it’s a Blackguard Assault Carrier.”

“Well, we got their location now at least. What now? Head back and tell 12?” Pops asked. Michael had been sitting in the captain’s chair, his eyes closed as he reached out with his mind, feeling the thoughts in the vicinity. The pirates were not happy; most likely, they discovered their prize was worthless. There was another stronger feeling coming from the ship, apprehension, fear? “No. We have to stop them here and now.” Michael announced.

All heads turned to the Commander as he spoke. “I thought this was a scout mission, track and report back,” Pops asked. “It is, assuming what we report back has actionable intel. But they know something is up, and I have a strong suspicion they’re about to run. If they do, all of this will have been for nothing, so we have to act now to stop these raids once and for all, which is what this mission was all about.”

“Sir, with respect, one to one, I don’t think we are a match for an assault carrier.” Archie began. Michael smirked, “Don’t worry, number one, I don’t plan to fight fair.” Michael mused. “Yeager, think you can get us to the antipode orbit around that planet without them noticing?” the commander asked.

“They haven’t noticed us yet. I’ll get us there no problem.” The helmsman responded. “Good, Floor it. Romen, I need you to load fore and aft torpedo launchers, high yield explosives on timed detonation.” Michael continued to order.

“How long for the timer?” Romen queried. Michael considered the question for a second. “How long would it take a torpedo to travel halfway across the planet’s orbit?” Michael followed up. Romen looked to his terminal, calculating velocity and distance, “38 seconds.” He reported. “Good, set it for 36-second detonation.”

As everyone began to move to their respective assignments, Michael approached his father. “Dad…I have an assignment for you, too.”

“Oh?” Pops perked up.

“Look, I know you’re retired, so I can’t order you to do this, but it’s critical to the plan I have, and I could really use your help,” Michael stated. Pops looked into his son’s eyes for a moment, a wave of pride swelling within him. “Well, let’s hear the plan then!” Pops replied.

[30 Minutes Later]

The Orian Carrier had stowed all of its fighter craft within its shuttle bays. An old/crude towing cable had latched onto the freighter and was pulling it in tow as it prepared to turn and leave orbit. Just then, the bridge of the carrier lit up with klaxons as the ship began to lightly rock back and forth. “Captain, several detonations 20km ahead, bearing 0 mark 55!” one of the crewmen announced. “Source?!” The Female Orion demanded. “Unknown, Ma’am. It looks as if pockets of Ethylchlorate may have erupted.” The crewman reported.

“Idiot! Something had to have set it off. Shields up! Scan the planet and find out whe—” the captain began, but once again the ship was rocked, this time much more violently. Impact after impact shook the bridge to its core, consoles were overloading, sending crewmen flying as showers of sparks flew across the room. When it was all over, the Captain picked herself up off the floor and returned to her seat, from which she had been thrown. “REPORT!” she screamed, as blood began to trickle down her forehead.

“Shields at 8%, Engines Offline. Freighter has disconnected and is adrift. Damage to both Port and Starboard shuttle bays, we can’t launch!” a desperate officer called out. “What happened?!” The captain snarled, wiping the blood from her brow. “Photon torpedoes came in hot and fast from both sides of the planet and ignited the volatile gases! If we didn’t raise shields when we did, we would be in pieces!” the officer explained. “I want to know who’s responsible for–!” she began to cry, but was cut off “Captain!” a crewman interrupted.

On the main view screen was a Federation Escort, 20km ahead, and despite being 1/4th the size of the Orian Carrier, it loomed menacingly over the limp vessel. “Captain…their broadcasting on an open channel.” The crewman reported. The Orian Captain stood from her seat, glaring at the screen ahead, “On screen.” She snarled.

The image of Commander Michael Angelus lit up their bridge as he sat relaxed in his chair. As he took stock of the state of the Orion’s bridge, his hand went to his chest, “Oh my! You seem pretty banged up there. So terribly sorry, had I known a ship was on the other side of the planet, I would have never approved that routine weapons test.” His words were laced with mocking venom; she knew damn well this was a direct attack. “Cut the crap, Federation! We found your tagged depleted Dilithium! We know why you’re here!” she snapped.

The forced appearance of shock and concern melted from his face as he returned to a relaxed and arrogant pose. “Ahh. So you’re the ones who have been stealing Dilithium from our transports. Thanks for that admission, makes my job a whole lot easier.”

“Admit this!” She roared, waving her hand for a non-verbal order to fire. The Orion Carrier fired a barrage of fore disruptors and torpedoes at the Fox. “Mr. Yeager, Evasive patter Peppy-Lamda,” Michael ordered, and on queue as if expecting the assault, the nimble Fox ignited its Port maneuvering thrusters and rolled out of the way of the oncoming fire. “Romen…” Michael called out. On command, the tactical officer returned fire with phaser cannons, striking the Orion ship several times in key locations.

The bridge to the Orion ship rocked once again. “We lost 3 Phaser Strips and a Torpedo Launcher!” an officer cried out.

“If you were trying to return the favor and ignite the particles around my ship, I beat you to it. See, I fired a volley along the northern hemisphere to clear my approach and give you enough notice to raise your shields, then I fired a full spread along both sides of the equator to box your ears in. I know what you’re thinking, there is no way this tiny little federation starship could be a match for yours…but let’s face it, in your current condition?” Michael declared, giving a knowing shrug. “But to be fully transparent, I’m not the one you need to worry about. I’m actually here to help. Them…not so much.” He finished, pointing out at the screen.

The crew of the Fox gave confused glances towards one another, as the Officer aboard the Orion vessel scrambled to scan the surrounding area. “Let me guess, your Mommy Odessey is closing in, using you as bait to distract us?!” The Orion captain spat. Michael gave a cold, wicked smile, “Oh you wish…”

“SaH muv lopno’?” Michael barked in fluent Klingon.
        ((Translation: Care to Join the Party?))

Both Sensor Officers aboard both vessels picked up on it immediately and were nearly stunned by the revelation. 50km off the Stern of the Orion Vessel, Mat’Ha-class Klingon Destroyer decloaked, its weapons hot and trained on the Carrier. “Captain…” the Orion officer whimpered, but the Female Orion had already seen it on screen, a look of terror on her face. She knew how the federation operated, a bunch of bureaucracy and bolstering. But she also knew that the Klingons were capable of far worse.

“See, that Dilithium you stole…was supposed to go to them. And they’re not happy about it. So here in a few seconds, the Klingons are going to start beaming it off your ship. After that…who knows, they might start beaming off bodies, if they don’t blow you out of orbit for the hassle you’ve caused.” Michael paused for dramatic effect. He could feel the crushing feeling of dread wash away any sort of bravado the Orion Captain was trying to maintain as she calculated the odds. “Or your mighty starship could surrender to us. You’ll still lose the Dilithium and your freedom. But at least that’s all you’ll lose. Choice is yours, but I’d make it quick before the Klingons get into weapons range and make that choice for you.”

The Orion captain slumped down into her chair, her ego crushed. “We surrender…”

[2 Days Later] – Starbase 12

Cheers erupted from the promenade down below, as Federation and Klingon officers shared drinks to the glorious capture of the Orion Pirates. Officially, the Klingons took credit for the capture, which made their claim to the Dilithium undisputed. Commander Skaro was at first perturbed by this, but inevitably, with the raids ended, he could requisition what he needed to get the station back to its normal operations. Michael stood with the Commander in his office as they looked down at the celebration.

“Well, all in all, things turned out in our favor. I’ll be filing a report with your command to validate the delay to your posting. I can’t thank you enough for your assistance in this, Commander.” Skaro proclaimed. “You sure you don’t want to stay for the party?”

“Nah…got tens of lightyears ahead of us, plus if I stay, the Klingons will want to drink me into alcohol poisoning, so I think I’ll leave the celebrating to you,” Michael smirked.

“I’d rather take the Mauk-to ‘Vor.” Skaro teased, leading the two to share a laugh. “God Speed Angelus, the Fox is a damn fine ship.” Skaro bid farewell as the two shook hands.

Michael slipped away down to the docking ring where the Fox had been waiting. Just outside his father was waiting for him, bags on a hover cart to his side. “I hear they’re giving out free booze, so I might delay my trip to Sol by a day or two.” Pops teased. The two men shared a warm embrace. “Thank you, Dad,” Michael admitted.

“Don’t think I don’t know that you shoved me in that shuttle to keep me out of the fight, in case it didn’t go as you planned.” The elder declared. Michael raised his hands in defeat, “Hay, I needed the Shuttle to fire torpedoes in one direction, while the ship fired in another, it just so happened that we didn’t have time to get you to dock before we confronted the Orions. Not like you wouldn’t have done the same in my position.”

Pop’s hand unconsciously went to his chest, hovering over where the hidden pocket was before giving his son a beaming smile, “Yeah…guess you’re right.”

“Well, look, you take care, and trust that crew of yours. It was a good gambit bringing the Klingons along, but you could have clued them in on it, too. Remember, your job is in delegation now. Let them make the tacti-cool choices.” Pops shared. Michael looked out the port window to his ship, hanging in waiting. “I will Dad. I love you.”

“I love you too, son. Stay safe, and keep in touch. Your mother would be so proud of the man you’ve become.” Pops finished with one more hug.

Reluctantly, Michael returned to the Fox and immediately headed for the bridge.

“Helm, Set course for the Thomar Expanse,” Michael commanded, taking his seat.

“Docking clearance received, sir. We are ready to depart on your orders.” Archie confirmed, Data PADD in hand.

“Make way and clear from the station…then Floor it, Mr Yeager.” Michael ordered.

[THE END]