DISCLAIMER:

"Star Trek" and all associated names and characters, with the exceptions of the ones created by myself for this story, are © Paramount. I am a fan of Gene Roddenberry's dream and just wish to keep it alive so that tomorrow's youth may gain by it as I have. This is fan fiction; there is no infringement of copyright intended with this story, nor have I written it for personal financial gain. So relax, engage at full warp and enjoy!

(note—the winner of this episodes "name the object" contest was Nixnivis. Apparently Nix was so enthused with the contest that she entered twice. Since the contest rules didn't specify otherwise the judges will allow it. There will be another contest real soon, so be watching. So Nix, thank you for your response, I hope you like how I worked your objects in. Anyway here begins chapter six all. Enjoy!)

Chapter Six

"Welcome back, hoo-man." Quarn said standing at one of the aft stations of the bridge as Roberts stepped off of the turbolift.

Roberts joined Quarn at the console and explained, "We haven't got a lot of time, Quarn. Did you get the file transmission from the planet?"

Quarn worked the LCARS system as he replied, "Receiving it now."

Roberts turned and walked around to his captain's chair. Relaxed to sit down he asked, "Good. How's our status?"

"All systems are a go, and the last of the romulans are beaming back to the surface now. So how were our benevolent patrons?" Quarn asked.

The captain swiveled his chair around, smiled at Quarn, and remarked, "They were cordial, especially, that Tal Shiar female who didn't want to be identified. You would have liked meeting her, Quarn." He swiveled his chair back around and with sarcasm added, "Talk about personality!"

Quarn perked up, and turned from the station. He asked, "Was she tall, dark-haired, prone not to saying goodbye, and couldn't crack a smile if her life depended on it?"

Roberts turned around and, puzzled, replied, "Yes, as a matter of fact that is a fairly accurate description. How did you know?"

"I'm surprised you told me about her, she doesn't want anyone to know she exists." Quarn replied turning back to his console. Working the system he explained, "That female would be the reclusive Major Y'pel. She is a field officer in charge of romulan dirty deeds when it comes to federation matters. I've had the unfortunate pleasure of doing business with her before."

Roberts thought back to the fact that his ferengi first officer had once been a member of ferengi intelligence, and replied, "Oh? I take it the transaction didn't go well?"

Quarn just chuckled to himself and replied as he still worked the console's controls, "Let's just say, hoo-man, that I would count my latinum before handing over whatever it is she wants."

Roberts raised his brows and commented, "Is that a fact? I will have to keep that in mind. So is the new cloaking device fully operational?"

"It seems to be online now, at least. As far as actually working when we turn it on, you will have to ask your chief engineer about the chances of success for that." Quarn answered.

"I think I will." Roberts said lifting his wrist communicator up to his mouth. "Nancy, where are you?"

Thirty seconds passed before, Roberts looked up at Quarn and asked, "Have you seen Nancy, recently?"

"The last time I talked with that female, she was on her way to engineering. That was about eight hours ago."

The voice of the EMH came over the ship's com, "This is the ship's EMH speaking. The young lady you were trying to communicate with is in sickbay. She acquired injuries in engineering, and required immediate medical treatment."

Captain Roberts stood up. "Medical treatment?" Roberts questioned with a sense of unease in his voice. He began to walk quickly towards the turbolift.

"Yes.", the doctor responded, and continued to explain, "She suffered a laceration to the wrist and tearing of the Radial, Ulnar, and Anterior Interosseous Arteries. I healed the wounds; however, she lost a considerable volume of blood on the way to sickbay. As a result she lost consciousness before treatment could begin. She is now resting comfortably here in sickbay."

Roberts stopped walking just short of the turbolift doors. He was close enough that the turbolift's sensors detected him and opened the doors. Relieved that Nancy was okay, Roberts simply commented, "Oh, I see." He nodded to Quarn, and said, "You have the bridge, Mr. Quarn." He stepped into the turbolift and commanded, "Deck two."

The doors hissed shut, and in the span of a few short seconds they reopened again revealing the main corridor of deck two. The captain quickly paced his way down until he turned and entered into sickbay. When he stepped into the room, he saw Nancy laying seemingly lifeless on one of the two beds in the recovery bay. The doctor was standing over her, waving the probe of a tricorder over her limp body.

"Ah, a concerned captain, I see." The doctor piped up cheerfully. He stepped over to a monitoring terminal on the wall and began to adjust its settings. He smiled and cheerfully continued, "Well you can rest assured captain that she is in the best of care. I wouldn't give her any less than the best medical care. After all, you may be traitors to the federation in league with the romulans, but I am still a doctor, however. I will treat her no different than any other member of the U.S.S. Hydra's crew."

Roberts walked up beside Nancy and took her hand into his. It was warm, and he could feel her strong pulse through her wrist. He laid it back down on the table and replied, "Thank you, doctor." He thought for a second, looked at the doctor, and casually asked, "So how did you find out about the romulans?"

The doctor stopped adjusting the controls, and turned with his back to Roberts. His cheerful smile instantly faded to that of nervous worry. He forced a smile, turned back to Roberts and replied, "One of the romulan technicians that was working on the cloaking device in engineering, stopped by to check on her condition." The doctor walked over to the surgical bed, and picked up a data pad that had been left there. He began to work the data pad as he continued, "Apparently, the young romulan officer was quite smitten with your engineer, and decided to share his love of terran culture with her."

Roberts looked confused, "The romulan did this to her?"

The doctor looked up briefly at Roberts and then continued to work the pad, responding, "In a matter of speaking, yes." The doctor let the pad and his hand drop to his side, walked back over to the wall mounted monitoring terminal above Nancy, and fidgeted with the controls with his one free hand. He continued to explain, "Apparently he brought a rather ill tempered ferret onto the ship with him. The ferret and the young engineer here had a clash of, shall we say, personalities. An altercation occurred, and her injuries were the result."

"A ferret attacked her?" Roberts laughed. He thought back to his first assignment onboard a starship, and remembered how the chief engineer of that ship had as a pet a very tame ferret named Sophie. The engineer had trained Sophie to run ODN cables through the tight confines of beneath the deck plates. It seemed it saved a mountain of time to have the little lanky critter navigate the squeezing maze that exists beneath the deck plates over having to pull all the deck plates up and lay the ODN cable by hand. He remembered the tame little fellow and asked, "Are you sure, doc?"

"I didn't see it happen, if that's what you mean. I am limited to being here in sickbay, my holo-emitters only function in here. So I am forced to believe what the romulan…." The doctor said, something on the monitoring panel having caught his attention and caused him to trail off mid sentence. He rambled to himself, "An elevated level of human chorionic gonadotrophin hormones? How could I have missed that on my initial scan?" The doctor dashed back over to the stand where he set down the medical tricorder, exchanged the pad for the tricorder, and quickly walked back to beside the bed where Nancy lay. He opened the tricorder and pulled out the probe, making a quick scan of her abdomen.

Alarm in his voice, Roberts asked expectantly, "What is it, doctor?"

"Damn!" the doctor exclaimed. He continued to scan as he muttered to himself, "How could I be so stupid!"

Roberts walked around the table, grabbed the doctor by the shoulders, and turned the EMH towards him. He looked the doctor straight in the eyes and asked, "What's the problem, doc?"

The doctor sighed a nervous sigh. He replied, "It would appear that the young engineer here is pregnant."

Roberts released his grip of the doctor's arms and stepped a couple of slow short steps back in shock. With his eyes widening and void of blinking even once, he looked at the doctor, shook his head in disbelief, and asked, "She's what?"

The doctor continued his scan with the tricorder and replied, "She is pregnant. She is with child. She has a bun in the oven. She is going to be receiving a visit from the stork. Her monthly visitor has gone away. In other words, captain, she is one hundred percent assuredly knocked up."

Roberts looked down at Nancy's resting face, and slowly as if guided and pulled by some unseen force his gaze found its way to her stomach. Lifting his now dropped jaw, he managed to pull his gaze away, and focused on the doctor. "How is this possible?"

The doctor paused to look briefly over at Roberts and then focused back on his tricorder resuming his work. He responded, "You mean to tell me that you fancy yourself a captain, and you don't know how this works? Do you require me to explain the mechanics of sexual reproduction?"

Roberts shook his head, and out of disgust and confusion turned a complete circle standing in place. "That's not what I meant, doc. I meant how…or why rather…or what I really mean is who…." Roberts tried to explain, stumbling on his own words. He thought for a second and finished, "I guess it was a rhetorical question. Never mind, doc."

"I see." The doctor replied folding the tricorder back over shut and replacing the probe into its carrier. He walked over to the stand and exchanged the tricorder for a hypospray.

Roberts looked down at Nancy and wondered. He wondered why she would enlist in his crew if she knew she were pregnant. Maybe she didn't know. Yes, that was probably the answer. He wondered if maybe her pregnancy explained her recent increase in sexual drive. He wondered one question most of all. Considering they had never been together, who was the father? He turned his head and watched the doctor come back to the bedside. He asked, "Will she be coming-to soon?"

"Doubtful." The doctor replied. He pushed the hypospray up to her neck and depressed the actuator button. It hissed as it delivered its load into Nancy's bloodstream. As the doctor walked back to the stand to set the hypospray down, he explained, "She suffered a severe trauma with the blood loss. She will require several hours of rest to recuperate."

"I see, well when she comes-to, let her know that I would like to see her in my quarters." Roberts requested.

The doctor picked up the pad that he had set down, and began to resume his work with it. Without glancing up he replied, "I will let the patient know your desires when she regains consciousness In the mean time I will keep you apprised of the situation, captain."

"Thank you, doctor.", Roberts replied, walking to the door. The doors to sickbay hissed open and Roberts turned his head back to the doctor and commented, "You know, doc, you aren't that bad of a guy when you aren't quoting starfleet regulations. I am glad to have you onboard." He smiled at the doctor, turned his head back, and exited the room. The doors slid shut behind him.

The doctor's usually ever-present smile faded. He let the data pad drop to his side again. He spoke out, "Computer open EMH medical log, and confirm starfleet encryption codes for integrity."

The computer chirped and replied, "Encryption codes intact for EMH medical logs. Medical logs open."

The doctor sighed in relief. The EMH program and its medical logs were stored in a separate system from the main computer. The doctor was betting on the fact that the ship's hijackers would not have bothered to change the encryption codes for the EMH subsystem, so he could be relatively safe leaving a log there of his activities without them knowing. He needed to do such, so in case he were deactivated, starfleet would have some record of what had transpired onboard the Hydra once they had retaken it. The doctor began to make his log entry, "It has been four hours since I have sent the warning message to starfleet command. The hijacker who has assumed the role of captain made a visit to check up on his fellow co-conspirator. Before he arrived I had barely enough time to perform a short-term memory erasure on her without being caught in the act. If all goes well, she will not remember anything that transpired in sickbay, and as a result my activities should go undetected. This EMH unit, however, will need to undergo a complete diagnostic and possible overhaul as soon as possible, as a mistake in the initial scan of the female engineer failed to determine that she was pregnant. As a result of this failure the neuro-toxin, Trisenepheline was used to sedate her before she could order the computer to shut the EMH program down. Trisenepheline will undoubtedly cause complications throughout the term of her pregnancy, and will most likely result in the unborn fetus being auto-aborted far to prematurely. Even with frequent medical treatment, the predicted survival rate for the unborn child is less than thirteen percent. It is my recommendation that upon recapture of this vessel that this EMH unit be shut down until the reason for the error can be ascertained."

The doctor walked over to Nancy's resting form and touched her hand for a brief moment. It was almost as if he had the look of remorse in his eyes as he looked at her. He called out, "Computer, end log, and encrypt."

* * *

The streets of New Sydney were packed with pedestrian traffic. She weaved her way through the crowd and stopped in front of a store window. It was an antique store, and setting in the window was an object that summoned up some old ghosts from their graves in her mind. She stared down at the rocking horse that sat there motionless in the window display. It was quite old, had to have been at least early twentieth century by the look of it. It was made of wood and expertly carved. Its details were vivid, even though the paint was just but mere flecks scattered here and there over its surface. Its bushiness of its hemp string tail had seen better days, and the leather reins were tattered and looking as if they were about to fall off.

On an impulse she couldn't explain she had made up her mind, she was going to buy it. Besides, it would look good in the study of her new apartment. She began to walk to the door of the shop again wondering to herself what had made her decide to but it. It was probably overpriced, as all twentieth century antiques were, and with her recent unemployment, she probably couldn't afford the credits that it would cost.

Then it hit her.

Kyle had bought one for Nancy when she was little.

She opened the door to the store and was about to walk in when she heard a familiar woman's voice call out from the crowd, "Captain Keating! Captain Keating I have an urgent message for you!"

Keating quickly scanned the crowd and located the source of the outcry. She was simple to spot really, as she was the only bajoran in a starfleet uniform on the street. It was Ensign T'ralla trying to push her way through the crowd and make her way to her.

Keating pretended not to here the young ensign, and walked into the store. She walked up to the shopkeeper who was dusting a display case and asked, "Excuse me, how much is that rocking horse in the window worth?"

The older balding man stop dusting the objects on the shelf, turned to her and said, "Well that would depend really."

When he looked at her, she noticed that he had the dark eyes of a betazoid. "Depend on what?" Keating asked as she watched the man walk over to the window display.

She followed him over to it, watched him pick it up, and listened to him explain, "Well, some folks look at this thing and see a few hundred credits and a prize that they can show off to impress their friends. We get those type of folks all the time."
"Okay." She commented.

"And others come in look at it and see the pure investment value of it. They would keep it locked away, until they needed to raise some credits, then they would liquidate it to the highest bidder."

"Go on." She said, wondering what the man was getting at.

"Then there is the third type of person." he said walking with it over to the store's counter.

"And what type of person is that, exactly?" she asked, following him over to the counter.

He set the rocking horse down on the counter, looked her in the eyes, and explained, "The third type comes in and sees a lifetime of memories when they look at it."

"Captain Keating!" Ensign T'ralla's voice panted from across the room.

Keating turned and looked to the door of the shop and saw an out of breath ensign stepping into the shop. The ensign tiredly walked over to Keating and snapped to attention. Ensign T'ralla reported, "Captain, I have an urgent communication from starfleet command for you."

Keating shook her head and responded, "First off, I am no longer your Captain. I resigned, so Ms. Keating will do just fine T'ralla. Second off I have resigned from starfleet, so it doesn't matter what they want to say to me, because I am not listening."

Ensign T'ralla looked uncomfortable as she explained, "But I'm under direct orders to find you and deliver the message."

"You're order's be damned! I don't care about starfleet anymore! Let them go off and fight their own damn battles! Let them suffer the consequences of their actions! I am tired of it! So go away!" Keating barked back. She turned to the shopkeeper, and assumed a softer tone, "I am sorry about all of this. I am interested in obtaining this rocking horse, if I could just know its price…"

Ensign T'ralla interjected, "The Hydra survived the attack, sir."

Keating raised her head and turned around to face Ensign T'ralla. She looked at her nervous face and asked, "Come again?"

Ensign T'ralla was nervous that she had disobeyed her captain's direct order not to just go away. She quietly restated, "I said that the Hydra survived the attack, sir."

The look on Keating's face was a serious one, "Don't joke with me, ensign. How do you know this?"

"I would never joke with you, sir. And we know this because the EMH aboard the Hydra sent a coded subspace message to starfleet command from romulan space."

"I see. What about its crew?" she asked a look of relief creeping up on her face.

The ensign smiled and answered, "Your daughter is alive."

Keating's face quickly turned sour, "That's not what I asked!"

Ensign T'ralla's smile dropped away as she answered, "I'm sorry, sir. I just thought that you would be relieved to find out that she was still alive. I mean that is what you were going to leave starfleet for, right?"

Keating angrily replied, "Unless you haven't been paying attention, ensign, I already did leave starfleet!"

Ensign T'ralla answered with unease, "Commander Evans wanted me to let you know that he never sent your resignation into starfleet command. I am sorry, sir, but you are still in command of the Hoyle."

Keating took a minute to think about what the ensign was telling her. She turned back to the shopkeeper and said, "I'm sorry, but it looks like I won't have time to haggle over its price with you today. Duty calls." She turned back to Ensign T'ralla and said, "Well what are you waiting for Ensign T'ralla? We need to get back to the Hoyle. I need to be fully briefed on the situation."

Captain Keating and Ensign T'ralla began to walk towards the door, when the shop keeper spoke up, "Wait a minute, young lady."

The captain turned around to see the shopkeeper walking towards them cradling the rocking horse in his arms. The captain reiterated, "I'm am very sorry, but I simply don't have the time to haggle over its price today."

She began to turn back around again when the shopkeeper responded, "You can have it."

She turned back around again and asked him, "What?"

"You can have it." He said handing it to her.

She took it from him and gave him a look of puzzlement, "I don't understand. I can have it? Just like that?"

"Yes.", he responded with a smile. He continued, "There is one catch, however."

"And that would be?" she asked.

He smiled, put his hand on her shoulder, and explained, "Of the three types of people I told you about, I want you to send me a communication when you find out what type you are."

She looked back at him and gave a slight smile, "Okay, It's a deal."

She thanked him and turned back around. She exited the store and they quickly disappeared into the streets of New Sydney.

Her daughter and her cohorts were alive.

It looked like she would have the opportunity to get even after all.

* * *

Considering he didn't have any fresh stock of it to boil his own the cup of Darjeeling tea that Captain Roberts was sipping on was quite good. Good as far as replicator tea goes anyway. Roberts was sitting on the lower bunk of the cabin that had been forced to choose as his own. It was standard crew quarters for a defiant class starship: cramped, two bunks, a replicator and a computer terminal. The defiant class wasn't built to shuttle diplomats or to go showboating across the galaxy. It was built for one purpose and one purpose alone. War.

The door to his cabin slid open, and Nancy groggily waddled in. The door shut behind her, she looked at Roberts, and said, "The EMH told me that you wanted to see me. So what is it that you wanted?"

Roberts stood up and set his tea down on a small bedside table that jutted out from the wall. He moved up beside her and said, "Have a seat, Nancy."

"If it will make you feel better, asshole." She somberly said.

Roberts escorted her to the bed and helped her to sit down, which just earned him a look of disgust from Nancy. He picked his tea back up and set down beside Nancy. He took a sip of it and asked, "So how are you feeling?"

"Piss off, and what in the hell are you drinking?" she tiredly retorted.

Roberts looked at her and knew that she wasn't feeling one hundred percent okay. For one thing, even though her usage of colorful metaphors had not diminished, the passion with which she spoke them did. He decided to reply with, "It's Darjeeling tea, its pretty good. Would you like some?"

"Hell no. I would rather have a lager right about now." She said rubbing her neck with her hand.

"Do you think that would be a good idea in your condition?" he took another sip of his tea and asked.

Nancy jumped up off of the bed, and angrily asked, "So exactly how much did that holo-dildo tell you?"

"He was only doing his job, Nancy" Roberts explained looking up at her. He continued, "I am your captain, and I have a right to know about the crew's medical condition. Especially when it might effect their job performance."

Nancy pointed to her stomach and responded, "You think that this is gonna affect my job performance?"

"Well somehow I think that it already has." Roberts replied standing up in front of her. "I mean you haven't been acting the same for the past few weeks. I mean when were you planning on telling me about this?"

"First off I don't think that I have to tell you shit, dickweed. And second of all, I don't think that how I've been acting is why you are so concerned about it. Admit it, Roberts, you are jealous. You want to know who the father is. Or more appropriately, who has been screwing my brains out!" She said, her nostrils flaring.

"No I don't. I don't care what you've been doing and with who. All I care about is this ship! And I am beginning to think that I will need to get a replacement for you until you little condition is over with in several months!" Roberts said beginning to lose his temper.

Nancy was pissed. "All you care about is this ship?" she asked.

"Yes!" he responded getting up in her face.

That is when Roberts found out he had given the wrong answer. She deftly and with force brought her knee up into his crotch, causing him to fall to his knees writhing in pain on the deck of the cabin. His teacup was just jagged shards on the floor before him. "Fine, to hell with you and your ship!" She said. She turned around and stomped out of the cabin.

Roberts rolled over onto his back, he was in unbearable agony, and he didn't want to go to sick bay to have the doctor look at his injury. He would be far too embarrassed.

The ship's com came to life and Quarn spoke up, "Well I've got good news, and I've got bad news, hoo-man."

"What's that, Quarn?" Roberts strained to ask as he pulled himself back up onto his knees.

"Well the good news is that the cloak appears to be working. We have passed out of romulan space and we haven't been detected yet." Quarn explained.

Roberts managed to get to his feet and ask, "So what's the bad news?"

There was a moment of silence before Quarn replied, "Someone on board sent a coded subspace message to starfleet."

* End Chapter Six *

Will the crew figure out who sent the message? Will Nancy reveal who the father of her child is? Will Captain Keating get her revenge? To get the answers to these questions you will have to tune in for the next installment because this story is…

To be continued…

P.S.—the I would love any questions or comments that you all have for me you can either post them on the review page or email them to me at: mojo@iowatelecom.net