Chapter 9

"Computer, ETA to the Titan?"

"If current speed is maintained, this shuttle will rendezvous with the USS Titan at 1724 hours."

Beverly fidgeted in her seat. Only two hours left before the end of the four day journey, some days being cut off the trip by fortunate astronomical anomalies opening up shorter lanes of travel; in her mind, this was both a blessing and a curse. She still didn't quite know how she was going to get the ensigns to go along with her to Gyras IV, and not simply take her into custody and frog march her onto Starbase 356. She had to make it look good – to do anything less would be to put Will's career in jeopardy, not to mention the careers of the two young women who were escorting her, and she wanted her own career to be the only professional casualty of this excursion. As a doctor, she had taken an oath to do no harm, and that precluded simply stunning the pair of security officers with a phaser, which would have been far easier, but not quite her style. An idea can to her mind – two hours was cutting it close, but it was worth a try, and she was entirely out of options. Offering a silent prayer to whatever gods protected the foolish, she made her way to the cockpit.

"Ensign Korax, I have been notified of a case of Algerinian Influenza aboard the Titan. It will be necessary to inoculate you against it. Ensign Yerla will have to undergo the same. Please come to the crew cabin."

Ensign Bellia Korax looked at her companion, who nodded. Getting up from the co-pilot's seat, she made her way to the crew cabin, and sat down, gathering her black hair in her hand, she exposed her neck to the doctor. With a soft hiss, the vaccine entered her blood, and coursed through her veins.

"Thank you, Ensign. Please ask Ensign Yerla to join me."

A few minutes later, both ensigns had been protected against the Algernian flu, not that there was any reason to do so. If the Titan had an outbreak of it before they got there, St. Elizabeth of Hungary would no longer be unique. Not that it matters.

An hour later, both ensigns came into the crew compartment complaining of fatigue and soreness. An hour and fifteen minutes later, and both of the security officers assigned to watch over Crusher were sprawled out on the couches, soundly and firmly asleep as the vaccine took hold. They'd be out for another couple of hours, and then groggy for a day after that, depending on how physically fit they were. I'd wager they'll be out and about in less than a day, considering they're in better shape than I am.

Beverly made her way to the console, and took it off autopilot, wanting to make some minor course changes to give her physician's fingers practise on the shuttle before ditching it for the Captain's Yacht. It would be a long week on the yacht if Korax and Yerla didn't agree with her, and she could be facing a suspension, or even the possibility of losing her medical license for what she had just done, not to mention assault charges from the two ensigns personally. She would plead guilty to it all, of course, but she was not going to stop until she had the answers she sought.

"Approaching the USS Titan."

Beverly didn't hail them, as regulations demanded. Instead, she ask the computer, "Computer, are the shields on the Titan activated?"

"Negative."

"Computer, prepare to beam three to the Captain's Yacht of the Titan. Initiate an interface with the Titan's main computer, and bypass by accessing the replicator control circuits in the secondary core systems group, and reroute those circuits to feed into the auxiliary sensor net. Once access has been established, upload program alpha-1 into the sensor net and run program. After doing so, shut down all power systems on board this vessel, and delete sensor readings, occupancy logs, and flight plan from the shuttles memory. Authorization Crusher two-two-beta-charlie."

"Acknowledged."

Beverly marvelled at the ease of committing these crimes. I suppose that is why Starfleet vets its command level officers thoroughly. They certainly did a hell of a job on me...

"The shuttle is in transporter range of the USS Titan. Standing by."

"Computer, three to beam up. Energize."

She heard the beep of acknowledgement from the computer, and found herself on board what she could assume to be the Captain's Yacht of the Titan. It was a well appointed cockpit, with the seats being leather, and a dark maroon carpet beneath her boots. It smelled faintly of pinewood, and she marvelled at the fact that it was finished with real wood. They two ensigns were sprawled on the floor at her feet, not conscious, but breathing easy. Well, that's a relief. The computer board had a message blinking on it. She tapped the panel, and smiled.

"Captain, sensors report that an unauthorized transport just took place. Three occupants of the unidentified shuttle just beamed aboard...the Captain's Yacht?" Lieutenant Gaarl reported from his post at tactical.

"Acknowledged, Lieutenant. Put the shuttle on main screen."

"Yes, sir. Shuttle on main-" The Lieutenant paused.

"Lieutenant?"

"Sensors are on the fritz, sir. I can't get a positive lock on anything, including the shuttle. Sir! The internal sensors have been locked out, I can't even access them manually. We're blind."

Will sat in his command chair, stunned. He figured he'd have to order the Lieutenant to look the other way, but Beverly...that had come out of left field. I didn't give her enough credit, it seems. He fought to keep the smile off his face, remembering what he did to the old Enterprise sensors during a war games exercise.

"Riker to Commander Tarah. Sensors are down, Scott, give me a time when they won't be."

"Uh, well. I don't exactly know what happened yet, sir. Computer says that we received a program from the shuttle, hacker by the name of Howie or something, trashed the sensor net. Whoever it was, he really knows his way around a computer, sir. I'd estimate it'll be at least another hour or two before we even know what the hell it is, there are lockout on top of lockouts. It's pretty impressive."

"Alright, Commander. Keep me posted." Will sighed.

Beverly,

Will is planning on taking the sensors down for a maintenance cycle when you beam aboard the yacht. That should give you enough time to get away. We stored a few goodies for you in the rear cargo hold, and have uploaded a new transponder signal into the computer. It should make you look like a Ferengi ship to anything that doesn't look too close. When you are ready to leave, there is a program in the yacht's computers called Undock. Execute the program, and it will override the docking clamps.

Please delete this message after reading it. Good luck, Beverly. Bring him home.

Beverly wondered idly what goodies those were. Knowing Deanna, some real chocolate pudding lay in some stasis containers. She glanced at the command panel – the ship was still clamped to the Titan.

"Computer, disengage docking clamps with the Titan."

"Unable to comply. Docking clamps are protected by a security lockout."

"Computer, execute program Undock."

"Working."

Beverly waited, hoping that the program would work. Her heart started beating again when she heard the mechanical clanking of the docking clamps disengaging from the yacht. She threw the ship into full impulse, and took it to warp when it was clear of the Titan, the viewport showing the graceful lines of stars as they passed at many times the speed of light. She wandered to the cargo hold and had a look inside. There were boxes, half a dozen of them, all locked. At the same moment, the computer recognized someone was in the cargo hold and the lights snapped on.

"Security alert. This is a restricted area. Identify yourself."

"Uh...Doctor Beverly Crusher."

The computer beeped its acknowledgement. "Identity confirmed as Doctor Beverly Crusher."

The boxes opened themselves, revealing an impressively stocked arsenal of weaponry. Hand phasers, phaser rifles, Romulan and Klingon pattern disruptors, solid projectile weapons, and photon grenades. Inside two of the others she found Starfleet Special Operations combat fatigues and prepackaged meals in stasis containers. In the last two lay tactical gear, knives, body armour, sensor nets, and transporter dampeners. This was the good stuff, all stuff she needed, and all stuff that she hoped she wouldn't have to use. Still, she felt a lot more comfortable with what was coming up with the phaser rifle in her hands. Continuing to look at the equipment arrayed before her, her eyes spotted a small, grey device, laying at the bottom of one of the container within a box. The box opened at her touch, and a small written note was within it.

This is an emergency subspace transponder. Use it at only the end of need. She didn't recognize the writing, and was sure it wasn't Will's or Deanna's.

She put it down, and went to check on her 'patients'. Damn. No chocolate.

Captain Riker walked into his ready room, and a beep sounded, alerting him to a waiting message. He accessed his computer, and the screen turned black. Text splashed across the screen.

"This is a friend. Your sensors are experiencing a cascade failure..." she walked him through how to bring the sensors back up, and how to purge her program from his system, "I hope this helps. Anyway, I'll try to return your ship. If I don't, you know what happened."

"Computer, delete record of all messaged sent and received in the past fifteen minutes."

"All records of sent messages deleted. No messages have been received in the past fifteen minutes." Riker's eyebrows raised.

Hot damn, Beverly. I really didn't give you even close to enough credit. He didn't even know that she knew how to do this stuff. Hell, he didn't know how to do this stuff. He tapped his combadge, "Scott, I think I've solved your problem." Riker listened the the response from his Chief Engineer, "yes, I am, Scott, and I don't think that's how you are supposed to address your commanding officer. You know, I am not entirely incompetent with engineering..." Will grinned. Time to earn some points.