“We can make our way back to Farpoint for a resupply run – with Mom’s help, we’ve got the daring transport captains running the ships.”  Natalie stood at the back of the bridge reviewing the state of the Deneb sector, “Janoor III has risen to the top of the list recently.”

Reid pursed her lips, “They have.  The three ships that Task Group 514 assigned there have been…less than helpful.  The civilian government contacted one of the transport captains they have a relationship with.”  She tapped at the console, “I don’t know how receptive Captain Fountain will be to us, but he’s the squadron commander.”

McKee turned in the center chair, “He wouldn’t shoot at us…would he?”  She couldn’t believe she was asking such a question, but the Dominion did strange things to the universe on a good day.

Natalie wasn’t sure, “Captain Crawford said he was downright awful.  Made some threats.  And that was to a Starfleet Captain!  Who knows what he’d do to a civilian ship.”  She nervously tapped at the helm station of the SS Ambrose, “We’ve got a job to do…and I don’t think we should let the risk get in the way.  Smaller ships than us are putting themselves on the line out here.”

McKee took a long breath and decided, “Get us to Farpoint, and we’ll get Janoor what they need.”

“The Tallahassee didn’t make it to Galadkail Minor…they came under heavy fire in transit, and they’re limping their way to Janoor III.”  Reid shook her head.  The casualty report, together with the damage report, was awful.  “They lost five crew, which leaves them with ten.  Four of them are injured and need a sickbay.”  She pointedly looked at McKee, “I think we’re going to have to take them on.”

Natalie looked at the same report and whistled in shock, “She’s not worth bringing back to Earth.  They nearly tore her apart trying to get here.”  She felt for the new captain.  He’d just taken over…and would lose his first command.

“Let them know we’ll be waiting for them.  Meanwhile…”  McKee stared at the screen, less than thrilled with their reception upon arrival at Janoor III.  It had been radio silent, and the ships had stared at them, hanging in space.  “Let’s see how much fun Captain Fountain is.”

The screen flickered for a second, and an uptight face stared out from a tense bridge, “This is Captain David Fountain of the Federation Starship Marianas Trench in command of the Marianas Squadron, Task Force 514.  This is a Starfleet operation.”

McKee shifted in the command chair.  He hadn’t asked a question.  She wondered if he expected her to apologize like a good little civilian and canter off back where she’d come.  She was very much resolved not to do any of those things as she started her opening introduction, “I’m Captain Elizabeth McKee of the SS Ambrose.  We’re here on a resupply mission at the order of Fourth Fleet Operat….”

Fountain’s eyes narrowed even further, “Fourth Fleet has no authority in this sector.  The Mackenzie is limping to 72, and I sent the Olympic to her next errand..”  McKee noticed a few officers behind him looking uncomfortable.

She tried once more, “I’m not here to deliberate the legitimacy of the whos who in Starfleet Command.  I don’t even know who’s in charge at Fourth Fleet.  I just know somebody in the chain of command said ‘yes’ to us.”  She threw up her hands, “I’m here to help if you take a second to believe us.  We had a request from Janoor III’s provisional government for assistance.  They made a supply requisition through Harris Transport which has an office at Farpoint Station.  We’ve also got a ship inbound that we’ll salvage and render aid to…unless you want to take that responsibility on, sir.”  She hadn’t looked away from him; her stare had been constant.  He tapped at the arms of his chair, checking her story with the computer records for Starfleet and Civilian operations.  McKee finished with, “Unless you’d like to render aid to the SS Tallahassee and get the angry calls from Janoor III about shit hitting the fan.  I’m fine either way.”  Fountain’s face reddened just enough for her to know she’d probably pushed a button or two.  She didn’t flinch but was ready to order Harris to get them out of there.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, Captain McKee.”  She wasn’t a fan of the look on his face. “You’ve got a history as well.”  She nearly broke.  She resorted to swearing in her head using every known language.

“Captain Fountain, I’m not sure talking about my service jacket or my personal life on an open channel and in front of your crew will get us anywhere.”  She glanced at her chrono, “The Tallahassee is thirty minutes away.  You want to take the credit for the supplies? We’ll beam ‘em over to you…and you can look like a hero.  I don’t give a crap.  I just want to get my other crew off their broken ship and move on to the next assignment.”

The captain on the screen took a moment to think and turned to speak to a crew member.  Harris muted the channel and turned to face McKee, “That man has a very punchable voice.”

McKee shrugged, “Punch, kick, throttle, headbutt…take your pick.  Prophets help him if he pees in the wrong person’s replicator chips.” She motioned to Harris, and the channel unmuted, “Can we get out of your way and move on with our lives, Captain?”  She wasn’t sure where her sass was coming from, but she was past caring.  If the last twenty-two days had taught her anything, is that she was done taking shit from anyone who wanted to take a dump on her.  The goddamned Dominion was running wild in the Deneb Sector.  And this jackass had the temerity to dial his hubris levels to eleven?

Fountain maintained some semblance of composure but wasn’t very good at hiding how he felt.  “We’ll take the supplies and deliver them to the people of Janoor III after an extensive inspection.”

It was Reid’s turn to stand up from her station in the back, “Pardon me, Captain…but that’ll take a day or more with the amount we’re carrying.”  She was finding her cup of indigent rage filling.

He shrugged and waved off her protests, “Such is the way of Task Group 514 Pol….”

McKee had moved to the helm console and stabbed her finger on the channel, hanging up on the captain.  Her mind moved quickly, “Get Janoor on the line and ask them what warehouses are available…get a lock and transport the supplies immediately.  Ignore Fountain for now if he calls.”  She returned to her chair while Harris moved quickly.  Ten minutes passed before Harris gave a thumbs up and confirmed that Fountain had been hailing them every thirty seconds.  “At least he didn’t shoot at us.  Open the channel.”

Fountain was furious, “How dare you disobey a direct order from a Starfleet Officer!  You are in direct violation of every….”

Elizabeth McKee sighed and leaned back in her chair, “Captain Fountain, this is exhausting.  I don’t know who you’re mad at, but it ain’t me.  I’m going to meet up with our critically damaged sister ship and do some life-saving over there.  If that means you file a report, send a message, or start an investigation into our actions…you do what feels right, sir.  We’re just good folk trying to save some other good folk.”  She paused and smiled wide, “Sounds downright Federation-y to me, Captain Fountain.” He remained silent and turned to shout at his communications officer, and the channel closed.

Natalie chuckled, “I’m guessing you want me to set an intercept course for the Tallahassee?”

Mckee sourly replied, “Get me the hell away from Captain Fountain before he or I get any ideas on revenge.”  She sat back in the chair and let out a long breath.  The SS Ambrose jumped into warp and was on her way.