Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Trek Universe utilized by my characters, that honor belongs to Paramount. This is not a commercial enterprise (no pun intended) and I'm not making any money off this. Please don't sue.
"Again, how did you break your hand?"
"I told you."
"Tell me again, I want to make sure I heard you correctly."
"I put my fist through the desk when I received our latest orders."
"Mhm." The doctor nodded.
"Damn it! Don't look at me like that Steve! Do you know where they're sending us? Sector 617! To interdict some local piracy and smuggling operation."
"That sounds like a worthwhile cause. Isn't that why you joined Starfleet, Hugh? To serve the greater good?"
Hugh laughed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, to boldly go my ass. I'm on some admiral's shit list, and I don't even know who wrote it or why I'm on it."
"Wasn't that girl you met on Risa the daughter of Admiral Planchette?"
"Which girl? I vaguely recall there being several women, a couple Orion women, some Andorians, even I Vulcan I think. Ah, that was one hell of a shore leave."
"Speaking of shore leave, your tests came back negative. You dodged a bullet, but sooner or later..."
"Yeah, yeah."
There was a short, uncomfortable silence while Hugh reminisced about his shore leave.
The doctor coughed, bringing Hugh out of his daydream. "So, why don't you want to go to Sector 617? It seems to be rather simple."
"Hunh. Sure, it's simple. But it would be a hell of a lot easier if I had a ship that wasn't due to be scrapped 50 years ago, weapons that functioned more then half the time, and a crew that hasn't spent more time in New Zealand then on active duty."
"It could be worse."
"Yeah, you're right, the warp core could explode and kill us all. But at least it would be instantaneous! And the crew! They're on the verge of mutiny, I can feel it. I already confiscated 100 liters of real alcohol, and if what's left gets amongst the crew, we're done for." Hugh dropped his voice and leaned closer. "I don't know how far I can trust some of the junior officers, or senior ones for that matter. It's a ship full of strangers, Steve. How the hell am I supposed to turn this mob into a crew? We didn't even get a proper shakedown. Engineering is ready to crack under the workload, as everything that can break is, often in the most catastrophic way possible. And Security? Hell, I think they're responsible for most of the trouble they're supposed to prevent."
Hugh closed his eyes and leaned back.
"I can't say I envy you, Hugh, because I don't. But please don't stir the hornet's nest until we can pick up some proper medical personnel, the ones I have now, well, I don't think they passed the first aid course."
"I'm sorry Steve. I shouldn't have dragged you into this. I...I just needed someone I knew and could trust."
"Don't apologize. You saved me from a fate worse then death. They were going to put me behind a desk."
Hugh opened his eyes and smiled. The comm interrupted as he opened his mouth to reply.
"Captain, to the Bridge. Priority message from Starfleet."
Hugh sighed as he stood. "Bridge, I'm on my way." He looked at Steve and shrugged. "I really don't see how my day can get worse, but somehow, I think it will."
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The corridors were deserted as Hugh Lyndan, Captain of the USS Hornet, made his way to the bridge. His hand ached despite the painkillers he had received, and a feeling of impending doom swept through him when he thought of the priority message which awaited him. He paused at the turbolift doors, reached out and stroked the wall.
"You're a good ship. You deserved a better fate then this, stuck off in some god-forsaken backwater. They should have let you die when your time came."
Upon assuming command, Lyndan had done his research on his new home. She had served long and proud as a science vessel scouting the then unknown sectors near the Romulan and Klingon Neutral Zones before being put into mothballs. When the newer Nebula's had come online, the Hornet had been scheduled to be decommissioned and scrapped. But the Cardassian Wars had flared up, and since the Hornet was already active, albeit on the way to the scrapyard, Starfleet had pressed her into service as a supply ship. A sneak attack at Minas Korva left the Hornet a wreck, but the demand for ships was so high she was patched up and sent back. And the Hornet met a similar fate in the Betloti Sector. And again in the Setlik System, and the Dorvan System. Four times was the Hornet presumed lost, and four times Starfleet engineers performed the miracle of resurrection. After the fourth time, Starfleet command realized the Hornet was held together by spit and duct tape, and relegated her to the ignomious role of supply shuttle at Alpha Centauri. Consequently, when Lyndan took command, the Hornet had no functional torpedo tubes, phaser arrays which were more dangerous to them then anyone they could hope to hit with the woefully obsolete targeting systems, and an artificial gravity system which had the unfortunate habit of hiccuping, though on a regular enough schedule precautions could usually be taken.
The doors opened as Lyndan stepped onto the bridge.
"I'll take it in my ready room, Commander."
Cmdr. Greene nodded, and signaled the communications officer.
As the doors to the ready room closed behind him, Lyndan sighed as he prepared himself to deal with the ever pleasant Admiral Gregory. When the face of Rear Admiral T'Prau appeared, Lyndan let out a sigh of relief.
"A pleasure to see you too, Captain. May I inquire as to the delay? I believe I coded for a priority message."
"I'm very happy to see you Admiral. I am sorry about the delay," Lyndan held up his hand. "but we've been having some issues with the artificial gravity."
"I am sorry to hear that. Add it to your list of complaints for Starbase 653 to fix."
"Admiral, we're no where near Starbase 653. At the moment, we're limited to Warp 5."
"Then you had better adjust your course sooner rather then later. You will receive further instructions upon your arrival."
With that, the Admiral signed off. Lyndan leaned back and contemplated the darkened screen. The Admiral had said Starbase 653 would repair the Hornet, which was good, but that he'd also be receiving new orders in person, which was bad. He rose and made his way to the bridge, giving the order to change heading at maximum warp.
At least I have a week to ponder my fate Lyndan thought as he made his way to his quarters.
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Two days later the Hornet arrived at Starbase 653. Engineering had managed to coax warp 8 out of the engines for a day and a half.
Damn them and their technical wizardry Lyndan thought as he made his way through the docking arm to the station proper. He'd been looking forward to several days of relaxation, but it was not to be. I can't be too mad at them though, they did work a miracle getting the engines above Warp 5. I just wish they could have done it without flooding the engineering section with radiation. Cleanup is going to cost us any time saved in transit. And the paperwork involved!
Lost in thought, Lyndan failed to notice the security detail awaiting him at the end of the docking arm.
"Captain Lyndan?" The officer asked the question as a mere formality. "The Admiral would like to see you, now."
Lyndan looked around, noticed that aside from the security team and himself, the docking arm and reception area was empty. He turned to the officer and opened his mouth.
"It's cleared so there are no witnesses for this meeting sir. The Admirals orders." The officer interrupted. "This way."
He turned on his heel as the rest of the team flanked Lyndan, giving him no choice in the matter but to follow.
They proceeded down deserted hallways, deeper and deeper into the bowels of the station. Lyndan began to worry, as the team refused to answer his questions, or even talk to him. Finally, they arrived at an unmarked door, which the security team paused outside. Lyndan was thoroughly lost as all doors and bulkheads along their route had any identifying marks removed. Lyndan took a deep breath and walked up to the door. When it opened, the room was pitch black. One of the guards pushed him through the door, which sealed instantly and silently behind him.
"What the hell..."
A bright spotlight illuminated a spot in front of Lyndan.
"Advance into the light." a disembodied voice ordered. "Now!" it exclaimed when Lyndan failed to advance.
"Who the fuck are you? What the hell is going on?"
"Just step into the light you stubborn jackass."
Reluctantly, Lyndan stepped into the light.
"Captain Hugh Lyndan, of the USS Hornet, do you know why you are here?"
"Because Admiral T'Prau ordered me to Starbase 653, and a team of security guard dogs escorted me here."
"Do you know the reason why you are here?"
"That depends, does the brass ever really have a reason for what they do, besides the fact they take pleasure in screwing me?"
Lyndan was pleased to hear an exasperated sigh come from the darkness. Suddenly the spotlight went off, plunging him into darkness once more.
"Now wh..."
The room lights came on, and Lyndan was surprised to find himself in a small circular room, roughly 5 meters in diameter. The only furniture was a small table before him, behind which sat Admirals T'Prau and Planchette.
"Nice theatrics. What the hell is going on?" Lyndan demanded.
Admiral Planchette laughed. "You're right about one thing, Lyndan, I do like screwing with you."
"I failed to see the need for such a dramatic entrance, but the Admiral was quite insistent." Admiral T'Prau added.
Admiral Planchette's face grew serious. "There is a good reason why you're here. The Hornet is in no condition to tackle a shuttlecraft, much less pirates. She's going to receive a complete overhaul. You're going to Sector 617, but not for the reasons you think. Yes, there is a smuggling operation and some small scale pirates. That's your cover story. But it's who we think they're in league with that has us worried."
Admiral T'Prau leaned forward. "Captain, you realize what we are about to tell you is Top Secret. You and you alone are to know what is going on. It is the only way to ensure security is not compromised on your mission. If knowledge of your actual mission was to fall into the wrong hands, the results for you and your ship would be fatal."
"We believe Fleet Admiral Bower is in league with the Orion Syndicate, and is protecting their operations in his domain. Sector 617 borders Bower's area of command, but does not fall under it. He knows you'll be there, but only as a picket. He will rightfully conclude you are not a threat to his operations. Materially, he is correct. You're no match for a pirate fleet, or even some of their ships. Which is why you'll be equipped with sensitive sensors and other intelligence gathering devices. Your armament will also be expanded, just in case. But your primary mission is to find any evidence linking Admiral Bower to the Orion Syndicate."
"Or evidence exonerating him from involvement." Admiral T'Prau interjected.
"Yes, or that. Anyhow, it'll be several weeks before your ship is ready, so I suggest you spend your time whipping your crew into shape. They need it. You and your crew are restricted to the top six decks, where you'll find everything you need. I just had the holodecks upgraded, I suggest you make good use of them."
With that, The admirals got up and left through the door, leaving a shocked and concerned Captain Lyndan behind them.
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A/N - Reviews are more then welcome, the second chaper is ready to go if anyone is interested.