Disclaimer: I still don't own Star Trek...The Assurance, and all her crew (minus one Vulcan), are MINE! But if you ask nicely, I'm sure you can play with them...

Notes:

Ariennye Dhivae Argelia: Thank you for the glowing review. I try to write well, but sometimes I drift either into the too much dialogue or too much discription (I think i do the latter in this chapter...). And as for our favorite science officer...well, he's always perfect. And speaking of which, thank you ever so much for reviewing "Perfect", it means a lot to me when reviewers read my other junk. by the way, do you ever do a non-anonymous review?

Onaleia: You would read this without the Star Trek under theme? Wow, I'm really touched. And thank you for picking nits. I told my sister that I finally found someone as much of a grammar nazi as I am and she didn't believe me. But it's the grammar nazis of the world that make it a better place to read, so thank you for finding that fault. I wish I knew how to revise my chapters or I would fix that immediately...

On to the Story...

Chapter 7

Actually, I see no difference between Thursdays and Wednesdays beyond spelling

"I want you to only go after one of the fighters. I don't care which but you don't go after the other until the first is disabled. Take out their engines. Leave the slave ship for last." Gunner and Pilot nodded their heads, turned back to their stations and began plotting how best to fulfill my orders. "Kat, how long can we go before having to de-cloak?"

"Up until we fire, Ma'am, but after that, the cloak has to stay down."

"Saul, do the fighter ships show any evidence of moving in a pattern?" The Vulcan watched the SINS for nearly a minute before replying.

"Negative, the fighters have not moved from their original positions relative to the slaver vessel. If they have any pattern of movement, Major, they have yet to reveal it." I chewed that over.

"Gunner, could you disable the fighters simultaneously?" The weapons chief thought a moment.

"Not simultaneously, Ma'am, but I could do them in quick succession."

"How fast?" Gunner did a quick estimation in his head.

"If I preprogram the positions of all ships involved, I could take both of them out in about three seconds."

"Do it." Gunner and Pilot began to revise their plots on how best to fulfill my orders. Whispered calculations, angles, speeds, power levels, weapons choices, and times were conducted between the two of them. The rest of the bridge sat in tense silence. Seconds ticked slowly by, measured by heartbeats, breaths, and the silent pulse of a klaxon. Klaxons were insanely loud in every part of the Assurance save two: the ICU in sickbay and on my bridge. We waited. The slave ship and her escorts continued slowly ahead and we shadowed them. And waited. Pilot finally broke the silence.

"Ready, Ma'am." She and Gunner silently strapped themselves into their chairs in front of me.

"Get us in position." The Assurance silently glided to a point prefixed by the siblings. Again we waited. I could feel all their eyes, their thoughts, their breathing, their waiting, their silence. And we waited.

"Fire."

DXVJKE

Pilot and Gunner, as I stated previously, were possibly the best team to ever guide any ship anywhere, period. They were very fast. They were very smart. They were very ruthless. And they possessed a hatred of slavers that possibly surpassed my own, possibly. When I had given Gunner the order to take both of the fighters out, he made that his life's goal. Pilot had copied that goal and made it her own, because she always did what her brother did no matter what it was. The fighters, you can imagine, didn't stand a chance.

But Fate, that infuriating Lady who controls the fortunes of all ships that ever existed, intervened at the last moment. The fighters apparently did have a pattern that they followed; they just did it on the hour. The ships began to switch places right as I gave the order to fire. The first of the fighters that Gunner had targeted had its engines torn to bits and was safely out of commission. However, the three seconds that Gunner needed to switch from targeting one ship to targeting the other gave the latter time to move out of the way. Gunner second set of shots only grazed their starboard shields. We were found out. The remaining fighter had a smashing good pilot who instantly realized A) he was being attacked, B) the attacking ship was behind him, C) his sister ship was derelict, and D) he could move a heck of a lot faster than the attacking ship could.

The fighter turned with expert precision, circled the slave ship, and raced around to face the Assurance. It fired at us repeatedly, raking the sides of my ship.

"He is coming around for another pass, Major," Saul stated, his normally calm voice was faintly tainted with strains of urgency. The bridge shook under the next attack. I hung onto the sides of my chair, listening to the movements of my officers, almost hearing the screaming engines of the attacking ship. The fighter raced towards the slave ship, tightly circled it again, and rocketed back to us. Pilot was straining the maneuvering thrusters trying to keep up with him, Gunner was twisting the weapons to every angle he could, and yet the fighter was untouched. I could feel the shields of the Assurance weaken. I had to do something. There had to be a pattern to the attack.

"Pilot, point us straight at the slave ship. Ignore the fighter and shoot that ship. No, wait. Shoot just beneath the slaver's keel. Two bursts in quick succession. Ready." I could feel the eyes of most of my bridge officers on the back of my neck. But we had worked together for far too long for them not to trust me. I waited until the right moment. Seconds slowly passed. The Assurance shuddered with the next pass and still I waited.

"NOW!"

The red phasers lashed out twice into the night sky, shooting, it seemed, at nothing. But at the precise moment, the fighter flew right into the shots. He came around the slave ship for a third time, but far slower. "Take 'em out, Gun." The weapons expert threw everything at the fighter, but not to kill. He knew my standards. Even when fighting slavers, no one died unnecessarily. The fighter's power withered. Five expertly placed blasts took out his engines, leaving the small ship crippled and utterly useless.

"Break the slaver's shields." Pilot and Gunner now moved like one being, circling the slave ship, and crushing the shields with practiced blows. In a matter of minutes, three ships had been reduced into twisted hunks of metal, lying prone before the Assurance.

"Saul, locate the bridge of the slave ship and send the coordinates to the transporter room." He moved deftly over the computer terminal.

"Done, Major." I stood.

"André, Saul, come with me. Katra, you have the bridge. Make sure none of them do anything stupid." I gestured vaguely towards the ships on the view screen as I marched over to the lift. The Vulcan and the Titan followed.

DXVJKE

There were some forty raiders in the transporter room. They all looked up sharply when I entered and spread against the walls to make room for me. The squadron leaders were standing closest to me, waiting for my instructions.

"I want one full team with me on the bridge. The rest of you are going to be spread through the ship. Get anyone who isn't a slave unarmed and in one place. No swiping ANY thing until I give the order. Got it?" There were no dissenting opinions.

"You, Redj isn't it?" The raider I indicated nodded. "Redj, gimme your guns." Redj obediently unbuckled his belt, removed the set of holstered blasters, and handed them to me. "Thanks, go get another set from the armory for this raid. I'll get these back to you later." He nodded again and moved through the small crowd. I handed the belt to Saul. "You'll need these."

I stepped on the transporter pad, André beside me, the four raiders he had selected to be my guard took positions behind us, Saul was the last to get on. The blasters looked strange hanging off of his waist, like they didn't belong there. I drew my twin Schnauers, very deadly energy pistols. They didn't vaporize my victims like Federation phasers did; Schnauers blasted nasty large holes in whoever was unlucky enough to get shot. They were very wicked looking guns, dark metallic blue that didn't glint, about the size of a Barretta from early twenty-first century Earth, very precise, and very smooth. They were rare, and I never, EVER, left my cabin without them. I glanced at the tech in charge of the transporters. "Do it."

DXVJKE

The swirl of the transporters pulled back to reveal a very crazy bridge. Romulans with no kind of uniforms were everywhere, trying to restore control to the bridge. No one noticed me and my crew until the second wave of raiders swept aboard. It is quite possible to not notice seven strange, gun toting, beings on one's bridge, but to ignore fourteen is something quite different. One of the tech-like Romulans headed towards our position, which blocked the main door on and off the bridge, looked up and froze. For some reason, it was his non-action that caught the attention of what I took to be the captain. He stood from a chair in the middle of the bridge and turned to look into the barrel of my Schnauer. Slowly the activity around the bridge abated. All the Romulans were focused on what I would do, and all of my men were focused on what the Romulans would do. The captain spoke first.

"Who are you?" His voice was firm, calm, like the voice of one who knows what he's doing. "What are you doing on my ship?"

"I am Keath Harper." My voice felt like it was chiseled out of ice. "I'm here to seize your cargo." I saw the other Romulans step backward away from me. They knew who I was. "And you are going to tell me everything I want to know if you value the lives of your crew." I saw the muscles on the captain's jaw tighten. It was another one of his crew who spoke.

"You're the Viper. You won't kill anyone." He was young, and had the cockiness of one who had had everything in his life handed to him on a silver platter. I didn't like people like that. My Schnauer moved with a rage all it's own. The Cock leaned backwards, fear suddenly present in his eyes as he had to stare down the barrel of that evil gun.

"I am the Viper, but I'm also a pirate," I smiled grimly, "which means that you should assume nothing." My trigger finger moved ever so slightly and the Captain leapt between the Cock and me.

"Please, don't. Ignore the boy, he doesn't have any manners. What do you want?" His voice had a slight edge to it. I knew well that he would cooperate with me.

"What's your name, Captain?" I relaxed my trigger finger every so slightly.

"T'Cair," he answered simply. I turned my head ever so slightly to indicate to the others that they were to assume their duties. André and one of my "guards" stayed behind me. Saul moved swiftly to a computer terminal to access its information. The other raiders spread out to collect weapons and secure the other stations. None of the Romulans either moved or protested.

"You own this ship?"

"Yes."

"The fighters?"

"I employ them. They've been with me for a while now."

"What's your cargo?" A totally superfluous question, but I asked it nonetheless. How much of his ship would be left intact hinged on how he answered my question.

"Two-hundred-thirty-seven slaves, eight tons of platinum, three of rubies, one of unrefined dilithium crystals." His voice was emotionless, Vulcan-like almost.

"I assume that you know what I do to slavers." My voice held the dark undertones of suppressed rage.

"I know." T'Cair had no fear in his eyes.

"How long have you been shipping slaves?"

"This is the first time." I blinked.

"What?"

"This is the first time that I have ever shipped slaves. I usually deal in hard cargo, but that's been slow. My crew has to work. I took this as a last resort." That same emotionless calm. He was either a VERY good liar or he was telling the truth. I glanced over to my left.

"Saul?"

"He is essentially telling the truth, Major. The ship's manifests go back several years; there are no records of any shipment of slaves other than this one and no evidence of tampering." I turned back to the Romulan.

"I am taking all of you cargo and every last one of the slaves in your hold." I paused. "And I am letting you and the rest of your crew and all three of your ships go." The shock that rippled through the bridge was almost tangible and it came more from my crew than from the Romulans. "BUT," I iced my voice to get my point across, "if I EVER see you trading in slaves again, I will show you no mercy. Got it?"

T'Cair nodded. "My investors will not be pleased with this," he said quietly.

I smiled slightly again. "Just start telling people that pirates raided you. I'm sure that your government will pay you more than enough to keep silent." I holstered my Schnauer. "I am leaving my raiders here to complete the transfer of your goods to my ship. Don't give them any grief and they'll leave you alone." I tapped the com link at my throat. "Assurance, get me out of here." There was a word of acknowledgement from Hannah. I turned to André, "Standard procedure." I was just able to see him nod before the transporter pulled me off the Romulan ship.

My memories had begun to overwhelm me.

I had to get off that ship…

DXVJKE

Any ideas as to what's up with Keath? Answer with a review if you don't mind. Also a question as to the length of this story, do you want them to go on another buzzing adventure, or shall I wrap this up? Again, answer with a review. (Okay, I just started every sentence in that bit with an "A" word...weird.)