CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
“The merest beat of a butterfly's wings may
effect change throughout the universe.”
- Various versions and
sources
Admiral Nalonge, rather than using his
customary channels, contacted Starfleet Operations directly, and issued his
orders through them.
Thus it was that the person both he and
Gallas had imagined might exist within the Orion Bureau—the “mole,” for lack of
a better term—never got wind of the information that might have made him or her
contact superiors in the Syndicate hierarchy.
They, in the overweening confidence
that through their carefully inserted plant, Starfleet Intelligence would
telegraph its attempt to rescue Aedra Anari, were thus assured that no such
endeavor was yet taking place, or even being planned. Therefore, no additional
precautions were employed… no plans to counter such an effort were in place.
The sheer size of the Starfleet
bureaucracy—an advantage when trying to hide a spy, or a number of them, within
it—also meant that occasionally things were missed or simply lost in the
administrative shuffle.
On such chances, hunches, instinctual
decisions, and hubris often turned
the fate of one or many.
In this case, particularly, the number
was five.
***
It wasn't often that a Federation
starship received conflicting orders. Such things were supposed to be nearly
impossible.
Of course, thought Erika
Donaldson, if it were going to happen,
you can be damned certain it would happen to us.
The subspace signals had caught up with
her ship, USS Adventurous, within
mere moments of each other. The first had left her distraught… and the second,
simply disoriented.
“Read that first one back again.”
Her first officer, Commander Douglas
Roese, affixed her with a disapproving expression somewhere between grimace and
smirk.
“You're just a glutton for punishment,
aren't you?”
“Doug…!”
He relented.
“All right.” He cleared his throat
rather theatrically, garnering chuckles from Adventurous' bridge crew… and a look from his superior that warned
him fun time was over.
“Ahem… 'To: Captain Erika Jill
Donaldson, Commanding Officer, USS Adventurous,
NCX-1306; From: Rear Admiral March Patterson, Commanding Officer, Task
Force Sierra Nine Five Two; Subject: New Orders.
“'Text: You are hereby instructed to
discontinue your transwarp matrix field studies and proceed with all speed on
course 114, mark 37, to rendezvous in three days with aforementioned assault
group's flagship, NCC-1776 USS Liberty.
Appropriate adjustments in both tactical and psychological readiness for combat
operations are to have been made beforehand.
“'On a personal note: I look forward to
our first opportunity for a professional association, Captain Donaldson. Your
reputation precedes you, and I'm certain we'll establish a rapport almost
immediately. Report to Captain Carter,
Roese finished with, “Oh boy.”
You said it, Doug. Now that's what I call a cunningly veiled threat. And…
“…what about Captain Mantovanni?” This came from the patchwork-furred Felisian lieutenant who'd
arrived on the bridge just then to begin his shift.
Erika grimaced.
“I don't know, Pashta… but I'm going to
find out, don’t you worry.
“Now read the one that just came in,
Doug.”
Let's see if things can get any worse.
“‘To: Captain Erika Jill Donaldson,
Commanding Officer, USS Adventurous, NCX-1306;
From: Rear Admiral Arnaud Henri Nalonge, Starfleet Intelligence; Subject: New
Orders.'“
“As if the old orders—either set—weren't charming enough,” offered Brennig Tethyan. Even
under the circumstances, it was a disconcerting joy to hear the Vor'shan speak:
There weren't many seven-foot tall bipedal reptiloids employing the
As if he hadn't been interrupted, Roese
continued.
“‘Text: You are instructed to proceed
on course 228 mark 45 at maximum transwarp velocity until arriving at attached
coordinates… there to anticipate a distress call from NCC-102343, USS Griffin, and respond appropriately.’”
Her X-O glanced up.
“That's it.”
The decision took no effort at all.
“Inform Admiral Patterson we’ll be
delayed, Brennig. Give him no other information… and then go to silent
running.”
A chorus of “Yes, ma’ams” filled the
bridge.
Roese regarded her with the discernment
of long friendship, and longer association.
“You know that's going to infuriate him.”
Erika smiled humorlessly.
“And I can justify it within the
context of our ‘orders,’ too.
“I so
enjoy being able to do that.”
She didn't know Admiral Nalonge…
…but she liked the man, already.
***
The Auspicious-class,
which consisted of only two still surviving vessels, Erika's own and the also
appropriately named USS Impetuous,
harbored experimental drive systems. They were twitchy, and often
non-functional… but when they did
work, Adventurous and her sister were
probably two of the ten fastest ships in the Federation Fleet.
They were being forced to prove it
again. Thus far, though, her chief engineer, Taylor Maxwell, had managed to
“keep the gerbils chugging along,” as she'd so uniquely put it.
Of course, the question she'd begun to
chronically ask since receiving both directives 18 hours ago once again
presented itself.
What the hell is going on, anyway?
Abruptly, she began to learn.
Even as her helmsman, the Vulcan woman
T'Lise, announced, “We are approaching the outskirts of the Dionysus star
system,” the series of muted alarms that sounded on Tethyan's tactical board
had him dispensing information with a succinctness and aplomb that was both
familiar and appreciated.
“Sensors indicate a trio of vessels
approaching… I detect disruptor fire… two Rakesh-class
Orion blockade runners attempting to disable a Chimera-class Federation fighter.”
He finished with what they already
knew.
“It's the
Erika snapped, “On screen… battle
stations… move to intercept.”
“I must remind the captain,” T'Lise
said with restrained precision, “that Dionysus is an independent star system,
and we have no legal right to cross the border into their space. The
“Noted, Lieutenant,” Donaldson
acknowledged, somewhat more tersely than she'd intended. Moderating her tone subsequently,
she added, “Carry out your orders. Open a channel, Brennig.”
His board sounded again, and he
replied, “Unnecessary, Captain. The commander of the lead Orion vessel wishes
to address you.”
“I can't wait to hear this,” Doug muttered.
Me either, she thought.
“On viewer, split screen; I want to see
what's happening out there, too. T'Lise, time to intercept?”
The Vulcan's tone was mildly
disapproving, but only to one who'd known her for years.
“One minute, 42 seconds.”
It became apparent that the Orion
commander was also covertly observing the pursuit; his vessels, despite their
speed and maneuverability, were finding it impossible to maintain a weapons
lock on the swerving, careening little craft they were chasing. Its pilot was
mad… but his or her brand of insanity was keeping
“I am to inform you that trespass into Dionysian space will not be
tolerated, Federation commander. Their Governance Council warns that intrusion
will be considered sufficient cause to fire on your ship... and that we may act
in their name.” He was being careful to perpetuate the
illusion of autonomy in a government that had been an Orion marionette for over
a century.
The proprieties must be maintained, of course, thought Erika.
“Considering the demonstrated accuracy
of your gunners, Captain,” she replied, “that's not quite the threat it should be, now is it?”
It was in poor taste, but… she'd been
unable to help it. Next to her, Doug muffled a laugh.
In a way, it served a purpose. Orions,
as a rule, hated being ridiculed,
especially by a female; it made them rash. In response, this one delivered a
flood of invective directed mostly at his weapons officers, but in part towards
the woman who'd pointed out their inadequacies.
He covered all the obscenity bases fairly well in that diatribe.
She smiled slightly, and observed,
“While your proposal is intriguing, Captain, I lack the sexual organ necessary
for me to do to myself what you indicate I should.”
Donaldson leaned forward in her chair.
“Now, since I've let you have your
little tantrum, it's my turn. As a famous member of my species once said, 'I am woman, hear me roar.'“
Then, she did.
“Cease fire and withdraw, or I'll take
extreme pleasure in disabling both your ships and stripping them of the no
doubt repugnant cargo you're carrying. You can explain that to whatever slug periodically slithers out from under his rock
to issue you your instructions.”
She glanced over her shoulder to
Tethyan, and snapped, “Phaser array to full power. Tie in the transwarp
augmentations. Quantum torpedoes… maximum yield, full spread. Take both ships
out with the first salvo. No toying with them, Brennig.”
The Vor’shan flicked his tongue out
once. It seemed an eager, hungry gesture.
“Understood. Weapons ready... firing range in 17 seconds.”
“We shall cross the border in
nine-point-two…” T'Lise hesitated; Erika could see the arched elfin brow in her
mind's eye.
“Fascinating. They are veering off.”
“Fancy that,” Roese chuckled.
“The fighter’s ablative armor is
essentially dissipated, and its shields are little more than a permeable veil…
but it is whole, and largely undamaged.” Tethyan sounded pleased, and
impressed.
“All stop,” Donaldson ordered. “Let it
cross the border on its own. This way we avoid any further criminal
accusations.”
Griffin winged her way back into Federation
space with her dignity, her systems and her occupants intact.
“They're hailing us.”
Erika had a feeling as to with whom she
was about to speak… and wasn't disappointed.
Luciano Mantovanni afforded her a
slight smile.
“'Transwarp augmentation' for the phaser arrays? 'Quantum
torpedoes'? Adventurous has received a quite a few upgrades since last we spoke—either that,
or her commander's line of bullshit
has.”
Roese burst into delighted laughter...
followed by most of Erika's bridge officers.
Said captain colored slightly, then
grinned in response.
“Now that,” she countered, “is a compliment from the master.”
Interlude Five Chapter Twenty-Seven