261
Riker scrambled to meet the Equinox as it sat down. Rhiann popped the hatch and Riker climbed aboard. He rushed into the cockpit, almost knocking Rhiann back into her seat. Danan sat in the co-pilot's seat. She was limp, held upright by her crash harness.
"Who's idea was this?" Riker asked while surveying the harness.
"Mine." Rhiann confessed, "I didn't want her falling out of the seat and hitting her head."
Riker gave her a warm smile, "Good thinking."
Riker undid Danan's restraints and lifted her out of the seat. He carried her out of the shuttle and headed deeper into the assembled throng of tents. He reached her tent and went inside. Laying her down on the cot, he rose and studied his next project.
He gently undid her utility belt and removed it. Next he unbuckled her boots and took them off. After a moment's consideration, Riker unzipped the front of her coveralls. Finally, he draped a pair of blankets over her.
Riker silently stood and watched her breath. When he was assured that she would be all right on her own, he exited the tent. Zipping the front of the tent shut, he rose to face two confused crewmen.
"What did Captain Macen mean when he said you were in command now?" one of the pair asked.
"Is the Captain leaving?" the other wanted to know.
Riker gave them a gentle smile, "Gather everyone you can find. Have everyone gather behind the infirmary. I'll explain everything there."
"Yes sir." they chimed and scurried off.
That'll cover everyone outside of Dracas' engineers and those guarding the prisoners from the brig. Riker realised, Now if I could only give Brin the speech at the same time.
Riker sighed at made his way to the area he'd designated. Along the way he was met by a half dozen crewmen that had the same questions. Riker assured them that everything was all right and urged them to gather others with the same concern. By the time he reached the field behind the medical tent, over twenty crewmen had gathered.
Riker scanned the faces of the milling crowd. Some were expectant. Others were fretful. A few were angry.
"Can I have everyone's attention?" Riker called out.
Everyone's focus shifted to him and he motioned for them to approach, "Gather around. I have some explaining to do and an announcement to make."
Feet shuffled and the group packed in around him, "I've been asked several times about what happened to the change of command aboard the Obsidian. I can explain."
"You do that!" and angry voice called out from the back of the crowd.
"Captain Macen and I had decided to shift the change of command. The Captain would serve as the Mission Commander and I would be the Captain of the ship." Riker watched astonishment wash through the group as they realised they hadn't misheard the general ship wide announcement, "That decision has been reversed. Captain Macen will remain the Commanding Officer of the Obsidian."
Or whatever ship we get next, Riker thought as he continued, "I will serve as 1st Officer. I will be handling the daily functions of the ship so as to allow the Captain the opportunity to concentrate on the investigations we are assigned to."
"What about Forger?" the same angry voice bellowed.
"Shannon Forger will serve as Executive Officer." Riker revealed, "This position will be marginally lower than my own. She will be in command of the gamma shift and oversee personnel matters. When you are reviewed it will be by her."
"What happened to the position of 2nd Officer?" one of the Sciences team asked.
Riker smiled, "Hopefully, Hannah Grace will remain as the 2nd Officer. We'd be lucky to have her."
The assembled crewmen seemed satisfied with that. Telrik asked, "Where is the Captain?"
"Captain Macen is overseeing the final aspects of our investigation. Next, he will be arranging transport for all of you and arrange for a salvage team to retrieve the ship and take her to a repair yard." Riker assured him. Riker called out to the dispersing crowd, "If you have any further needs, see Commander Forger and Chief Parva. They will facilitate your requests to the best of their ability."
Riker stood still and let the group return to their tents or into huddles around the picnic tables. Kort exited the medical tent and came up alongside Riker.
"Good speech. Is it true?"
Riker grinned, "It will be once I tell Macen what my first, and last, command decisions as the CO of the ship are."
Kort chuckled, "Macen will not be pleased with being backed into a corner."
"No." Riker agreed, "But he will see reason. My plan is the best of all worlds. It accomplishes Macen's goal without alienating the crew. It retains the desired command structure with the swapping of a few titles."
"He will still command during moments of crises." Kort predicted, "Can you accept that?"
"He completely trusts me with the ship when he's not aboard." Riker replied, "He'll expand my responsibilities as that trust permeates our professional relationship."
"So be it." Kort grunted, "If you can live with it, so can I."
Riker grinned, "Thanks for the support."
Kort looked uncomfortable, "I have a favour to ask."
"Name it."
"Teach me to woo non-Klingon women." Kort requested.
"Thinking specifically of Radil." Riker clarified and Kort nodded. Riker rubbed his chin, "I'll see what I can do, but there's no promises."
"Agreed." Kort replied happily, "When do we start?"
"Not now." Riker said sternly, "We have other concerns right now."
"Of course." Kort agreed, "Perhaps tomorrow?"
"You're hopeless." Riker laughed and walked away.
"So does that mean we're on for tomorrow?" Kort called out.
"Form a line and everyone will be processed one at a time." Delaney announced.
Sikorsky and her med team were at the head of the line, examining every passer-by for injury. Agwynn stood by Delaney. The Roman wore a grim smile.
"See?" Agwynn boasted, "Docile as lambs."
"I can't say that reassured me." Delaney rebutted, "They could by lying low, waiting for an opportunity to strike."
"They still have to get past Daggit and Radil." Agwynn reassured his comrade, "They will ferret out the troublemakers."
Delaney frowned, "I can only hope you're right. Even with our combined forces these people outnumber us two to one. If someone were to arm them…"
"Most of them lack the will." Agwynn observed, "They will be easily herded and corralled."
Delaney shook his head at Agwynn's certainty. His job was to plan for every contingency and that included an all out revolt. T'Kir's programs had opened up the database so the Starfleet personnel had gained access to the Solarian employee's records. The SID pair could read a person's personnel jacket as they interviewed him or her.
Generally, it was easy to identify to identify the Security Services employees. They wore uniforms. Three off duty officers had been identified thus far. In all twenty-seven guards had been detained. Earlier Delaney had dispatched Starfleet officers to collect those stunned by the SID team members. His people had had located a hold out pocket of Solarian troops. They were on the roof, scared witless by the multiple fly-bys.
"My name's James Brewster." a stunned looking man informed Daggit. Daggit typed the name into the padd he held.
Daggit turned to Radil, "Administrative Assistant."
"Go back to your quarters, Mr. Brewster. We'll contact you if you're needed." Radil instructed. The young man numbly nodded and moved on. The next woman in line wore the Security uniform.
Radil snapped her fingers, "Legionnaire, escort this young lady to the detention centre."
The Legionnaire placed his fist on his chest then took hold of the Solarian officers arm and escorted out of the area. Another Legionnaire stepped up to take his place.
Daggit grinned, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Of course not." Radil denied it.
"Come on," Daggit coaxed, "you can admit it."
A guilty smile crossed Radil's features, "It does make one feel like the Prophets themselves."
"Just don't get used to it." Daggit advised.
"Actually, I was thinking about making my Security team salute me like that." Radil eyes twinkled mischievously.
"Dracas would join them." Daggit opined.
"That boy is still in for a serious wake up call." Radil predicted, "Wait until he hits a Federation Home World."
Daggit smirked, "That'll be an interesting day."
"Hope it isn't fatal for someone."
Daggit shook his head, "We need to get back to work."
"Next!" Radil called out.
Macen and T'Kir materialised on the pads of the Intrepid's Transporter Room 1. McKinley stood there waiting for them. He wore a carefully neutral expression.
"Uh oh." Macen said, "I sense disapproval."
"Get over here." McKinley held out his hand, "Say hello."
Macen shook McKinley's hand. T'Kir held hers out next.
"Always a pleasure, T'Kir." McKinley said as he shook her hand.
"All right, the suspense is killing me." Macen admitted, "What's on your mind?"
"It can wait until we reach my Ready Room." McKinley replied.
"Where's Admiral Johnson?" Macen wondered.
"He's in the middle of an ultrasecure conference." McKinley revealed, "He can't be disturbed."
That means Council business, Macen thought. He didn't say anything. McKinley's crew knew about the Admiral's involvement with the Council of Five but the less said about the better. After a short turbolift ride, the group entered the Intrepid's bridge.
"Where's Pedrossi?" Macen asked.
"Off duty." McKinley explained, "Beta shift just came on."
"Oh, the beauty of three shifts." T'Kir wheedled.
"Stow it." Macen murmured.
"Give me what I want and I will." T'Kir countered.
Macen groaned as McKinley ushered them into his retreat.
"Have a seat." McKinley offered, "Makes yourselves comfortable. Can I get you anything?"
"I'd love some coffee." Macen said.
"Black?"
"Vanilla latte." Macen clarified.
"And you?" McKinley turned to T'Kir.
"A shot of whiskey." T'Kir replied eagerly.
McKinley laughed, "Will synthahol do?"
"In a pinch." T'Kir groused.
"We'll break out the real stuff later." McKinley offered, "I also have a cache of
Romulan Ale aboard."
"That'd remind me of home." T'Kir admitted.
McKinley placed the orders with the replicator and served everyone. Once he was done he ordered his own beverage and sat down. Macen couldn't take it any more.
"What is on your mind?"
McKinley adopted a stern visage and sighed, "Do you know what kind of trouble you've stirred up?"
"Nope." Macen admitted.
"You've created an interstellar incident by breaking the Roman quarantine and I have to clean up the mess." McKinley said with frustration, "I don't care about how many regs you broke but I am concerned with the mess you've created. The Federation's on the verge of a diplomatic disaster."
"I'm sorry about the trouble." Macen replied, "I really am. The last thing I want to do is create a brush fire that you have to put out but the lid was coming off of Magna Roma no matter what I did."
McKinley grimaced, "That's the worst part about it. We weren't ready for them to leap into interstellar politics. They may not be ready."
"They'll have to be." Macen said.
"Yes." McKinley sighed again, "They will."
The door chimed and McKinley said come. It slid aside to reveal Admiral Johnson. He looked weary. He strolled into the room and gazed directly at Macen.
"You have no idea what kind of shitstorm you've set off." Johnson warned, "Even Alynna is willing to let you hang for this one."
"Nice to be loved." Macen retorted, "I'm the unwanted stepchild."
Johnson chuckled, "It's not that bad yet. Amanda stuck by you, as did Edward Noyce. I threw my vote your way, God knows why, and we carried the vote."
"Thanks." Macen said cheerily.
"You could've fired us though." T'Kir insisted, "I could use the vacation."
"Ignore her." Macen urged, "She knows not what she says."
"Okay," McKinley laughed, "break it up. Do I have to separate you two?"
T'Kir crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out at Macen. He rolled his eyes and returned his attention to Johnson.
"So what does the Council want to do about the Romans?"
"I'm to pave the way for a Federation Diplomatic team." Johnson divulged.
Macen grinned, "A brilliant idea."
"Why are you so supportive of them?" Johnson asked, "This mutual admiration society you and the Romans are enjoying a mystery to me. According to your own report, they imprisoned you and tried to kill you."
"Pish posh." Macen waved the comment aside, "It was a simple misunderstanding."
"Are you sure you don't want to retire?" Johnson joked, "I think you've cracked up."
"Nonsense." Macen rebutted, "I am as sane as…well as her."
"Thanks." T'Kir retorted, "Label me as crazy why don'cha?"
"You were committed to an insane asylum." Macen reminded her.
"As if I don't remember that." T'Kir exclaimed, "Most boring two years of my life. Everyone was nuts."
"That's the point, m'love." Macen chuckled
"That's it." McKinley declared with a smile, "Opposite corners."
"If you don't mind I'll have a seat on the couch." Johnson said and lowered himself onto the sofa.
"You want anything?" McKinley asked.
"Two litres of Romulan Ale?" Johnson requested.
"That bad of a day?" McKinley asked.
"A Macen Council session is always taxing." Johnson admitted, "Our friend has an uncanny knack for creating situations with questionable legality."
"It's a gift." Macen smiled.
"Just be glad Jellico isn't on the Council any more." Johnson replied, "He'd have used this to ram down another prohibition of employing privateers."
"We survived it the last time it happened." Macen shrugged.
"The work was easier." T'Kir huffed.
"Seriously," Johnson leaned forward, "have you thought about retiring? You may have earned some powerful friends during the late domestic turmoil but you're fast using them up."
"Are you telling me its time to quit?" Macen asked.
"I'm suggesting to you that its time to be more circumspect." Johnson explained.
"I'd settle for you not creating a crisis every time you get an assignment. Take a break from old habits." McKinley added, "We have other assignments and we can't always be there."
"I'll keep it in mind." Macen promised.
"That's all we're asking for." Johnson said.
"Speak for yourself." McKinley interjected, "You're rolling in the latinum. Mind floating me a loan?"
Macen laughed, "We can discuss it later."
"Anything else we can do for you while we're here?" McKinley asked.
"I need a message sent to Starfleet requesting a salvage tug." Macen requested, "We think we can save the Obsidian."
"Is it possible?" McKinley wondered.
"My engineers are inspecting the hull even as we speak." Macen revealed.
"Well good luck. Losing a ship is hard." Johnson looked mischievous, "Although I suspect you're used to it by now."
"Ouch." Macen winced.
"Anyone else up for that Romulan Ale that was mentioned?" T'Kir asked.
McKinley looked at Johnson, "I am off duty."
"So am I." Johnson replied with a happy smile.
"It's a bit early for us." Macen commented then shrugged, "But what the hell? The company is worth it."
"Let's go." Johnson said gleefully.
"Hello?" a woman's voice called out, "Anybody there?"
Grace hit her head as she came out from underneath the helm. She muttered a particularly vile curse and rubbed her head. The voice called again.
"Is anyone here?"
"Yes." Grace yelled in annoyance, "I'm coming."
Grace scrambled to her feet and made for the hatch. She'd unzipped her flightsuit to her hips and shrugged out of the top of it. The sleeves were tied around her waist. Her gunbelt lay draped across a passenger seat.
Grace squinted as the sun hit her eyes. As her vision cleared, she made out two women standing in front of the shuttle. Both wore Starfleet uniforms. One, the younger, had two equipment cases draped from her shoulders.
"Can I help you?" Grace asked.
"No." Liefers replied, "But we can help you. We're Commander Delaney's rescue party."
Grace brightened, "Glad to hear it Lieutenant. But shouldn't you be putting your squadrons through their paces or conducting after action debriefings?"
Liefers smiled, "I've already done those. I'm all yours."
"Glad to hear it." Grace sighed, "Whose your friend?"
"This here is Ensign Emily Johnson, no relation to the big man. Johnson is one of our up and coming engineers. She's here to fix your ship." Liefers made the introductions then smiled, "With a little help from me of course."
"I'd be grateful." Grace admitted, "Come aboard."
Johnson trudged aboard and set her cases down. Liefers followed. They took a look around.
"Everything seems normal." Liefers commented, "There's no visible damage to the exterior or interior."
"You scanned the exterior already?" Grace asked.
"Yes." Liefers replied, "I did a visual search to confirm the readings."
"And?"
"Nothing." Liefers answered.
"That's what the Engineering and OPS stations say as well." Grace revealed, "But the helm is unresponsive. The board doesn't even activate."
Johnson shrugged out her uniform jacket. Next she rolled up her sleeves. Unzipping her shirt to her chest, she moved over to the Engineering station. She clapped her hands together and rubbed them.
"Talk to me." she said and sat down at the station. She closed her eyes and waited.
"What's she doing?" Grace whispered.
"Becoming one with the ship." Liefers whispered back.
"What?"
Liefers shrugged, "I don't know but it works."
Johnson's eyes flew open and she furiously began working at the station. After a moment's worth of work, she frowned.
"This isn't right." she announced, "The diagnostics show the Helm as receiving power but we know that isn't right."
Grace looked abashed, "I missed that."
"That's why she's the engineer." Liefers said consolingly.
"Lieutenant," Johnson interjected, "would you man OPS? See if it shows a data feed to the Helm as well."
Lifers complied, "I don't see…wait, there it is. All systems read 'green'. She shows she's active."
"Only she isn't." Johnson frowned, "Let's check the source. Shut your station down."
Liefers smiled as she did what she was told. Johnson was too deep in thought to remember the niceties of formal address so Liefers overlooked the omitted, "Ma'am".
Johnson moved to the centre of the shuttle's rear compartment and knelt. She opened a hatch and flipped open her tricorder. Visually examining the computer core, she noted a broken data shunt. She detached all of the various data shunts out of the core and hefted it to the deck.
Very intently, she scanned every inch of its surface and it's interior. Folding her tricorder shut she looked to Grace and Liefers, "This is the problem."
"The computer core?" Grace asked.
"Yep." Johnson wiped her hands of on her pant legs, "These things are hardened against electromagnetic interference, not impact."
Johnson stood, "There are fractures all across the matrices. The part of the computer that still works is just cycling the last scan completed before it was damaged. That accounts for the diagnostic discrepancy."
Grace looked over to Liefers, "She's good."
Liefers grinned, "You haven't seen anything yet."
"Please, I'm blushing." Johnson retorted then grew serious, "That accounts for the diagnostics but we still have a power flow problem that needs mending. But first, I have to complete this repair."
She rose and proceeded to her jacket. Plucking the comm badge off of it, she tapped it with her thumb, "Johnson to Smiley."
"Smiley here."
"Derek, I need you to replicate a computer core from a Waverider-class shuttle and beam it to my position." Johnson requested, "I also need a data shunt for the core."
"If I do this for you, will you be so grateful that you'll say "Yes" if I ask you out again?"
"Derek," Johnson scolded, "we've had this conversation."
"Had to try."
"Just get to the replicator and get my parts." Johnson instructed.
"Yes, ma'am. Smiley out."
"Now, we wait." Johnson said with a wry grin. She affixed the comm badge to her shirt and stepped out of the shuttle.
"I like her." Grace said to Liefers.
"Johnson is a good kid." Liefers agreed, "Caplan has plans for her."
Grace chuckled, "I bet."
"So," Liefers said cagily, "any thoughts on the suggestion I made to you the last time we met?"
"Which suggestion?" Grace wondered\.
"The one where you give up the glamorous life of a secret agent and become a fighter jock." Liefers reminded her, "You're a natural. I know a dozen Flight Ops commanders that would love to have you. I certainly would jump at the chance."
"I'm flattered." Grace admitted, "I really am."
"But?" Liefers asked.
"I owe it to Captain Macen and the team to stand by them." Grace explained.
"Is this a 'Debt of Honour" kind of thing?" Liefers asked
"Yeah." Grace ruefully admitted, "I put them through hell and they stood by me. A few reluctantly did it but the point is they did it. I can't abandon them."
"Delaney will be disappointed." Liefers teased.
"Why is it that everyone that I talk to is trying to get me together with Ian Delaney?" Grace grew agitated.
"Maybe they know something you don't." Liefers offered.
"We're friends." Grace declared, "Period."
Liefers grinned, "I think thou dost protest too much."
"Whatever." a grumpy Grace replied.
Liefers merely smiled as Johnson reboarded the shuttle. She carried a computer core and a data shunt. The engineer knelt next to the core's access and storage port. She replaced the core and in installed it.
"Lieutenant, if you'll fire up the OPS station and test the core," Johnson suggested, "we'll see if this piece of junk works."
"Did Ensign Smiley program it?" Liefers enquired.
"If he didn't then I'll kill him." Johnson growled.
Liefers decided to leave that one alone. She fired up the OPS station and ran a diagnostic. She had to run a system calibration and then everything worked. A diagnostic revealed that Helm was not receiving data."
"It's working properly now." she announced.
"Good." Johnson replied. She sealed up the core's hatch and rose to her feet. returning to the Engineering station, she took a seat and activated the console.
"What do we have here?" she asked as she read the results of her diagnostic, "We have a disconnected power conduit at the third junction. Easy to fix."
"Well, it looks like you'll have your shuttle back, Lieutenant." Liefers commented as Johnson went to work.
"Why don't you join me for dinner as soon as the Ensign is done?" Liefers offered.
"It'd be lunch for me." Grace pointed out.
"Whatever works." Liefers smiled, "The boys and girls in the Squadron Mess would love to have you."
"All right." Grace nodded, "I'll do it."
"Good." Liefers was satisfied, "Once we can get this bird aloft and take her out on a shakedown flight, we can return to the Intrepid."
"Sounds good." Grace remarked.