Lt. Commander John MacIntyre stood at attention in front of Captain M'aok, the Vulcan captain the USS Harbinger. Next to M'aok was Commander Evans, a serious looking human woman whose disdain for Mac was obvious. She was also the XO on the Harbinger.
"Would you care to explain why you were removed from your old position as tactical officer on the USS Italia, Mr. MacIntyre? Asked Captain M'aok.
Mac figured the Vulcan knew exactly why he's been cooling his heels in the archive section of Starfleet Intelligence instead of fighting the Dominion War from the bridge of a starship.
"The captain of the Italia was a tug captain promoted to the command of a fighting vessel. He was well connected with the brass and even a few Fed representatives from various systems. However, his tactical capability was horrible. In an engagement with the Breen, he made one tactical error after another. Our hull was breached in three places, our first officer was dead, and we only had one phaser bank still operating. He then ordered me to divide our firepower equally between the two ships we were engaging. I refused and told him we needed to concentrate our firepower on one ship to take down their shields. He insisted I follow his orders. I refused and mutinied on the spot. The other crew members, who deserved better than Captain Stock, followed my lead. Stock shouted and fumed, but he crew knew he was incompetent, that is why they followed my orders and we won that fight. Afterwards, Captain Stock and I had a heated argument on the bridge where I expressed my opinion about his capabilities in rather forceful manner. I was locked in the brig and charged with mutiny."
"How is it," demanded Commander Evans, "that you are still a Starfleet officer and not in a penal colony? Loyalty to your captain is the foundation upon which Starfleet is built."
"Must not have done her research," thought Mac to himself, but out loud he replied, "I was incarcerated on Starbase 12 to wait the convening of my court martial, and the Italia was sent out on another patrol. This time, unfortunately, the tactical officer followed Captain Stock's orders and the Italia was destroyed with all hands by all the Jem'hadar. I guess even Starfleet found it awkward to host a court martial when the accusing officer gets himself and all the witnesses killed. I also think they reviewed the tapes and found Stock to be as incompetent as I described. Continuing with the court martial would have made a lot of the brass look bad since it was they who left a incompetent officer get an entire ships crew get killed. On a positive note, Starfleet did issue a new directive requiring all captains assuming a combat command to go through a tactics course, and it only took four hundred and eighty dead crewmen for them to do it."
"You are disgustingly flippant about the loss of your ship," accused Evans.
"The counselor at the jail on Starbase 12 said it is a defense mechanism to deal with the anguish I feel at losing my comrades. Those were his words exactly, oh, and that I also feel guilty for surviving the death of my closest friends. But I personally believe that it's a manifestation of the rage I feel at Starfleet for letting an incompetent officer take a starship out without adult supervision and then trying to punish me for pointing out he was incompetent. Although rumor has it Starfleet gave a really nice memorial service for the Italia. Unfortunately, I was still in the brig and was unable to attend."
"If you dislike Starfleet so much, why don't you resign your commission, MacIntyre?" Demanded Evans.
"I have already written my resignation letter," said Mac, "but I am waiting to submit it."
"For what?" Evans asked.
"For the war to end," replied Mac looking straight at her. "I am waiting for the end of the war so no one like you can say I was a coward."
Mac could see Evans' face turn beet red with anger, but whatever she was going to say was curtailed by Captain M'aok holding up his hand to interrupt. He said to Mac, "If you are selected for duty aboard the Harbinger, can you give me any assurance you will do your job, or will you continue to show overt disdain for authority?"
"Captain M'aok, I am good tactical officer. One of the best, maybe even the best, in Starfleet. I do not have a problem with competent authority, only with incompetent authority. You know Captain Stock was given his command because of politics and not because of his ability. You know this because you are a competent officer and would not have done what he did. I did the right thing in assuming command during that fight, and you know that as well, or you would not have even bothered to interview me today. So, I am not here begging for a second chance to redeem myself, but if you take me on board, you will have an officer dedicated to his duty and to the fight against the Dominion. That is the only assurance I can give you."
"I will consider this further and contact you shortly regarding my decision," replied the Vulcan captain. "You are dismissed."
In the end, Captain M'aok did give him the job of tactical on the Harbinger, over the loud and frequent protests of Evans. Six months later the war ended over Cardassia Prime and on the day the peace treaty was signed Mac submitted his resignation to Starfleet. It was accepted without protest or comment.
A shout from some lucky winner at the dabo wheel brought Mac's focus away from his reveries and back to present. The present was a table in the corner of a seedy bar called Quarks on space station Deep Space Nine. Mac was dressed in dark blue civilian coveralls with a utility belt that held an odd collection of tools and personal items. His Starfleet uniform had been jettisoned out the first convenient airlock he had come across. On the docking ring his small shuttle, a rough little craft he has spent the last three months repairing, sat full of supplies for his little treasure hunt.
Mac took a sip of the drink he was nursing as he scanned the crown again. He was waiting for a particular someone to come in the bar. Rumor had it she came in ever night to order food from bar's replicators. Twenty minutes later she arrived. Most of the men in the bar turned to watch her arrive.
Sha'vron was green skinned; the green of an Orion slave girl, but her features bore the mark of Romulus, especially her pointed ears which were revealed by virtue of her hair being pulled back in a severe bun. The Ferengi waiter, who had been given a very ample tip by Mac, immediately took her her favorite drink along with a note by Mac. On that note he had written a single word: SHADOWHAWK.
Sha'vron frowned at the drink and the note and said something to the waiter. Although he could not hear her, he knew she was demanding to know who sent her the drink and the note. The Ferengi, a nervous little chap, pointed to Mac and the green skinned girl turned to look at him and he nodded in way of acknowledgement that he had sent the letter.
The girl turned away from him and Mac, deciding the die had been thrown, ordered another synthahol bourbon and waited to see what happened. It took several minutes, but the girl rose abruptly, almost angrily, and came over to Mac's table. He gestured to a chair, but she remained standing.
"I am no traitor to the Empire, Starfleet," she said with harsh emphasis.
"The Romulan Star Empire has other ideas about that," replied Mac, "but I am not in Starfleet anymore and I am not here to extract information about the Shadowhawk program from you. My name is John Macintyre, and I am on a treasure hunt. I think you could be of assistance to me with my quest, and possibly to yourself. If you sit down, I will explain what I have in mind to you."
The girl looked at him with hard suspicious eyes and did not sit down, but neither did she leave.
"Look," said Mac, "if you sit down and listen, I will buy your dinner, and if you aren't interested in helping me, I won't have any hard feelings about it, and you get a free meal and a drink."
The girl looked at him and said, "I am not for sale."
Mac nodded and said, "I am looking for an engineer, not a whore."
Sha'vron finally sat down. Mac could see some of the male patrons demanding to know from the Ferengi waiter what Mac had done to get the attention of the Orion girl, a feat which they had been unable to accomplish. Mac figured this girl had inherited her mother's pheromones, making every bipedal male in the place take notice of her.
"Let me start by telling you what I know," said Mac, "so you won't have to worry about giving away any Romulan secrets.
"First, I know about the Shadowhawk program. The Romulan Navy was automating old star ships, often cobbled together derelicts, and stuffing them full of sensors, surveillance equipment, and cloaking devices. They sent these spy ships into the territory of their enemies to conduct surveillance. The ships were loaded with explosives and if they were detected, they would simply initiate a self-destruct program. If they weren't detected, at the end of their mission time they were programmed to fly into the nearest star, thereby leaving no trace of their presence.
"Second, I know that you are Sha'vron, daughter of Romulan Admiral Kah'vron and Nelshaana, his Orion concubine. You were an engineer aboard your father's vessel, but only because your father was an admiral and he had the pull to get an obviously mixed species girl a job in the fleet. Romulans accept green blood much more readily than green skin. When the Romulan fleet's efforts at the battle of Cardassia Prime were disappointing, your people enacted their age old tradition of finding a scapegoat to which to lay the blame. Your father, killed in the battle and unable to defend himself, was a convenient target. Your family's fortunes have been reduced and your situation was precarious enough that you fled to Bajor and asked for political asylum and you now work as an engineer on this station's waste reclamation system.
Mac took a sip of his drink before continuing, "Why I have come here is I believe one of the Romulan Shadowhawk ships sent into Federation space is still extant, and if I can, I want to claim that ship as my own."
"What has this to do with me?" Asked Sha'vron.
"The ship is full of Romulan technology and I want a Romulan engineer to help me disable the auto-destruct and get her flying again. I reckoned that you are the only Romulan engineer that might be interested in helping me do this."
"Why should I want to help you?"
"For the chance to be the chief engineer on a starship," Mac replied. "If we find the lost Shadowhawk, if we can disconnect the self-destruct charges, and if we can get her flying again, you can have the job of chief engineer."
"That is a lot of 'ifs' in your offer," the skeptical Sha'vron pointed out.
"You are right," Mac said raising his glass in a mock toast, "and if none of that works out, you will have given up your prestigious job as this station's waste system engineer for nothing. God knows they are going to need you soon. A Tellarite trade caravan is coming to this station in a few days. I am sure you are aware how very hard the Tellarites are on waste reclamation systems."
Judging by look of horror that passed over her green Romulan face, Mac knew that she was indeed familiar with the strain Tellarites put on waste reclamation systems.
The Ferengi waiter returned with their meals and Mac and Sha'vron ate in silence. Mac had decided that she had all the information she needed to make a decision.
"Why do you want a starship?" Asked Sha'vron suddenly.
"A man can do well if he has a ship that can take him anywhere in the galaxy," answered Mac. "Now that the Dominion's stranglehold on the Gamma Quadrant has been broken, there are a lot of opportunities on the other side of that big hole in space out there. I plan to get rich, and if I can upset a few people along the way, all the better."