A/N: surprised that I managed to get more of this one written, but hey...anyway, Irekah returns in this new chapter, and I hope there are still people here to read this one :D
Many thanks, as per usual, to my friend and Star Trek information source, Kretolus, who is just an awesome guy who writes some awesome stuff!
Irekah hadn't thought it possible, but the decrepit little vessel she'd inherited had even more problems than originally reported.
For a start, the plasma torpedo launcher could only be fired by taking the shields offline, and she wondered exactly how recently the ship had last seen combat. That kind of work-around was a last-ditch attempt at keeping the shields going, not a permanent solution, and it left the Reman with few options.
Another issue was that only one of the dual cannons worked all the time – the other worked occasionally, when it felt like joining in. That, coupled with the temperamental cloaking device, meant that direct combat would be a swift route to their demise.
Irekah crossed to the tactical officer's station, eyeing the flickering display while she attempted to formulate a plan, and for once realised that something had gone right; a light patrol further in-system, three ships with nothing larger than their own Dhelan-class warbird.
Except, of course, that those three ships were all in perfect working order.
And then she had an idea so bold, so reckless and so insane, it would either go down in history or result in everyone onboard getting killed.
Irekah straightened up hurriedly and slapped her wristband communicator.
"Lehnat, what's the status of our transporters?"
"The transporters? Uh...as far as I know, they're about the only thing that are working even remotely well right now. Why?"
"Because I'm planning something crazy. Make sure the transporters are working as well as you can, I've got some details to work out."
She hit the comm again to close the channel, then crossed to the Ops station.
"How long would it take to make this ship read like a wreck?" she asked the Ops officer, who scoffed humourlessly.
"Have you seen this ship, Centurion? It pretty much is a wreck," he told her, and she nodded to herself.
"Good. Make sure it reads as if we're a floating wreck, with no lifesigns. Be quick about it."
Before he had chance to argue, Irekah crossed to the helm officer and fixed him with a firm glare.
"If you want to keep existing, I need you to co-operate. Are you with me?"
There was a moment's hesitation, but eventually he nodded slowly, and Irekah bared her teeth in a predator's grin.
"Set a course for the Tal Shiar formation, maximum warp. Make sure you overload the engines so that they blow out when we get there."
"You want me to deliberately break this ship further, Centurion?" he asked bluntly, and Irekah nodded.
"Yes, I do. Because if this works, we won't be staying."
She returned to her own seat, tapping commands into the captain's console at her side, and hoping the ship would hold together just long enough for this to work.
Centurion Okar was seething inwardly. He had no idea what he had done to offend Hakeev, but he'd been ordered to patrol the Brea system with a handful of tiny ships, as if he was being sent to die.
Not that it mattered. Brea was a backwater, of no use to-
"Sir, I'm picking up...it's a warp signature, sir, fluctuating wildly."
Okar looked at his Ops officer, a beautiful, diminutive woman named Vedara, and once again lamented the shipboard rules that prevented him from ordering her into his bed.
"What can you tell me about it?"
There was a sudden explosion, and the ship shuddered violently, before Vedara looked back at her captain.
"It's here, sir. I'm initiating a scan for- that's odd..."
Okar rolled his eyes.
"Don't give me 'that's odd', Vedara, just give me a report!"
"It's showing minimal lifesigns, sir, and it seems the warp nacelles just overloaded – that's what the explosion was."
"Anything else?" Okar asked, already losing interest.
"It's a Republic ship-"
"Then we can leave it be and let the remaining crew die a slow death," Okar interrupted, and Vedara pursed her lips.
"Sir, I'm reading a low-level scan – if I wasn't already actively scanning them I wouldn't have detected it."
"It's probably just their sensors, operating on the last commands they were given. Helm, continue the patrol route."
"Sir, I don't think-"
Okar turned to the protesting Vedara, his eyes flashing angrily.
"I have made my decision, Vedara, and the matter is closed!" he snapped. "It is a husk, soon to be a lifeless one. It is beneath our concern." He turned back to the helm officer, dismissing Vedara completely, and repeated his order.
"Tell me you're nearly finished."
With no viewscreen, Irekah could only sit in the captain's chair, squirming to try and avoid whatever it was that poked her in the back, while trying not to appear as worried as she felt.
"Just...about," her ops officer muttered, as if speaking louder would tip off the Tal Shiar vessel. "They're scanning us in return, and- shit, they're breaking off! They'll be out of range in three minutes!"
"How many have you got?"
"Not enough!"
Irekah swore viciously, determined not to lose her prize.
"Keep at it, then engage at the last moment," she ordered, ensuring she had her disruptor in easy reach before keying the ship-wide comm.
"All hands, stand by!" was all she said, thankful she'd informed the crew of the plan a few minutes earlier.
"Engaging!" the ops officer shouted, and suddenly everything hazed momentarily. When their vision returned, they were on an identical bridge to the one they'd left – except all the systems were functioning perfectly.
Irekah shielded her eyes from the lights, even as one of her crew shot the last remaining bridge officer, and she hurried to take the captain's seat once again.
"Kalem, report."
There was a moment of silence as Kalem, her ops officer worked his console, and he smiled in victory.
"It worked as well as we could have hoped, given the time we had," he answered. "Bridge, engineering and most of the crew decks are completely under our control. Security teams are already sweeping the decks that still have Tal Shiar present."
"Excellent work!" Irekah cheered, baring her teeth in a feral grin. "In that case, what say we test the weapons, Tactical?"
"Yes, ma'am," her tactical officer answered with cruel glee, and brought all the weapons online.
"A single torpedo at our friends' new home should do, I think," Irekah added, and a moment later the viewscreen blinked, displaying their former command and the glittering emerald projectile that sped towards it. The Reman settled a pair of small goggles over her eyes, looking back at the viewscreen just in time to see their wreck of a ship tear itself apart, as the torpedo ruptured the singularity core and detonated it in a green-white glare.
"Perfect," she purred, steeling her fingers. "Take us to red alert, engage the cloaking device...and put us on a pursuit course for the remaining ships."
As the red alert warning began to sound, Irekah allowed herself a small chuckle – her plan to steal one of the Tal Shiar's ships had worked almost perfectly, and certainly far better than she'd dared to hope.
As the ship swung around and the lights dimmed, signifying the cloaking device going active, she couldn't help but picture Temer's face when she returned.