Chapter 3

Date: January 12, 2158

Time: 0930

Location: USS Warspite

It didn't take long before Captain Shaw had his senior staff assembled in the back of ship's conference area for their first mission brief of the ship's career. A short half-hour period of checking the warp drive's stability, and stress-testing the drive at Warp 7 for a period of fifteen minutes also yielded the positive results that were hoped for. No problems were encountered, so Captain Shaw assembled his team, and now the work began.

"Let's begin," Captain Shaw stood in front of the large interactive conference table and plugged in the relevant data file and brought up the map of recent pirate attacks, red meaning ships destroyed, orange meaning ships attacked and looted but able to later escape, and yellow for ships that escaped attack. There were very few of the yellows, but a lot of orange dots and some red ones, the red ones being exclusively human ships, "We're on our way to handle a sensitive issue that has been arising for our side. The Agosorio Nebula has become a nexus for raids by Orion and Nausicaan pirates targeting cargo ships from Earth, Andoria, Tellar Prime, Vulcan, and our trade partners. This is threatening real trouble for our supply of Dilithium Crystal and other valuable war goods and jeopardizes our relations with many of the Coalition's trade partners. Lieutenant Commander Frost, you grew up on freighters. Does this area of space have any reputation for this sort of pirate activity?"

"None, usually we passed through there with no worries, but if we had to pass through here, away from Orion on the other side of the nebula, too right it was dangerous," Frost acknowledged in classic Australian fashion, "My family's ship, the Endurance, is a Z-Class, the biggest and fastest of the ECS ships. And we pushed her to the ragged edge every time we went near there."

"Did you encounter any of these Orion while passing through there?" Rowley asked curiously.

"I was only around for two runs, the first time, when I was six, no worries, they never showed. The second…we did get boarded, but pop paid a protection fee and the Orions let us go. Usually, that's how it works, the Orion and the Nausicaans are business-minded. We learned later that the space around Orion itself is far safer than the space further out, because the Orion themselves need to sell their ill-gotten gains and they cannot do that if potential business partners feel unsafe approaching them, destroyed ships don't pay you a protection fee nor come back with new cargo or pick up yours. I've been around for some other interactions involving pirates, shameful as it may sound, but if you approach them with a business proposition they'll work with you, and that's the key. Which is why this spat of destroying ships is weird for Orion, and for the Nausicaans, captain," Frost noted, "We boomers will fight to protect ourselves, but…this…something's different now."

"A regional war will do that," Captain Shaw reminded her, "My suspicion is that we're dealing with a Romulan-instigated uptick in pirate activity, potentially with the Romulans putting bounties on Coalition ships and purchasing pilfered cargoes, as you said, they can't profit from destroying this many ships in the long-run."

"So, we need to search out these Romulan contacts and eliminate the profit motive for these pirate attacks," Odell gestured to the screen.

"Naturally," Shaw nodded as he clasped his hands behind his back, "But we must first announce ourselves with authority, a statement to give ourselves a stronger position in any negotiation. The best course of action for that, is to eliminate the base from which these pirate raids are being conducted. Doing so will hamper their ability to prey on our shipping and of highest priority, we want to rescue captives that may be held by these pirates. And of course, seizure of vital war material and potential intelligence is to be of paramount importance. Colonel Odell, I trust your troops are up to the task of conducting such boarding operations?"

"You get us close enough, we'll take any ship, station, or outpost you point us at," Odell confirmed, crossing his muscular arms over his chest with pride.

"Excellent," Shaw said with an air of pleasant satisfaction, "Do remind your detachment that prisoners are in fact desirable."

"Preferably without unnecessary injuries?" a new voice stated, with Dr. Sydney Watson, the ship's chief medical officer, a civilian and not a Starfleet or MACO officer.

"Of course, my dear doctor. And you will have your staff properly prepared for potential rescued crews?"

"Naturally, old boy," Watson smirked.

This got a subdued but humored chuff from Shaw. It was a common joke for the good doctor that he shared the same last name and occupation of the sidekick of Sherlock Holmes, so any of that humor rolled off him like water off a duck. He and Watson had known one another for quite some time. Watson was formerly a successful private practice doctor, owning a practice with his wife in London. Then the war happened, and casualties poured in. He had left his wife to run their practice and volunteered at the planetside Starfleet hospital and intensive care unit in London on Earth, and made a name for himself saving lives, perhaps hundreds of lives. But ships were churning out faster than Starfleet was turning out senior doctors for those ships. Watson volunteered for placement aboard a ship when many doctors refused to do so, having heard the tales of the horrific casualties Starfleet ships were taking. For whatever reason, Watson just discarded the "advice" of his colleagues and put his name in for the tiny pool of candidates, and Shaw picked him the same day. He'd been training the medical personnel of the Warspite ever since while picking up shifts at the Starfleet hospital in London. The two had formed a fairly tight friendship ever since, seeing as he was the one man on the ship that could give Shaw an order, even if it was only in regard to medical matters.

"Sub-Commander T'Pmin, as our resident technical expert, what assessment of these Orion and Nausicaan ships would you give?" Shaw now turned to their Vulcan chief engineer.

"Between the two, the Orion pose the greater threat," T'Pmin stated evenly, and typed into her side of the console and the schematics of an Orion Interceptor came up, "The ship we will most likely encounter on this voyage will likely be the Orion Interceptor, a ship whose design bears similarities to the Klingon Bird-of-Prey. It is armed with particle weapons and has powerful impulse drives and a complex transporter array. However, its maximum confirmed speed at warp is warp four point five. However, its deflector shields are primitive, and it lacks much in the way of armor."

"Our best bet in combatting these ships will likely be to ambush and bait them into going to warp. We'll easily be able to run them down and disable them with the weapons we have," Commander Rowley observed.

"Indeed, the only other ship of note that is likely to be encountered is the Orion Barge," the female Vulcan now put up a second ships, "It is a similarly sized vessel in terms of mass. But it is much more heavily armed and heavily armored but slower and more cumbersome at impulse. According to Vulcan experience this vessel is used by the Orion Syndicate to handle their more violent disputes in the stead of their interceptor type vessels."

"So they're warships? Do they pose any threat?" Shaw asked.

"Not to this vessel, so long as we respect its capabilities," T'Pmin deadpanned.

"Crew compliments?" Colonel Odell now asked.

"No confirmed data, but Orion crews can range from sixteen to fifty on both types, although logic would dictate that being pirates who split their ill-gotten gains, they would trend towards the lower end of that range."

"And what is this talk of Orion female pheromones?" Rowley inquired, "And do we have a counter to it if exposed?"

"The Orion female, as far as our science is concerned," Lieutenant Povaliy now piped up, "Has either been engineered with or evolved a potent pheromone, which in males of most every sentient species we have encountered, creates a tremendous imbalance of testosterone in the blood stream, clouding judgement, increasing aggression levels, and grants the Orion female tremendous, almost mind-control levels, of influence over the subject's actions and choices through intensified sexual attraction. In females these pheromones create symptoms similar to a headache or even a bad migraine in more extreme cases. The best answer to this chemical exposure is a nasal blocking agent, or to assume hazmat levels of protection against inhalation. The effects themselves wear off with time once the pheromones dissipate."

"Very well, Sub-Commander, you will work with the Lieutenant on measures we can implement to completely isolate the brig and interrogation rooms and the connecting corridor from the ship's main life support system or a method of transporting them in a quarantined state. If you cannot, use one of the storerooms to create a more adequate quarantine space. Standard procedure when dealing with Orion females will be that no man will be allowed to be in their vicinity unprotected. That is, unless Dr. Watson can come up with a suitable nasal blocking inoculation."

"So boarding actions are to be taken with space suits?" Odell asked.

"If that isn't too inconvenient for you, Lieutenant Colonel," Shaw cocked his head at the MACO officer.

"No qualms here," Shaw responded.

"Good, now. As to our destination," Shaw pointed up at the large screen which had the map of the nebula, "We'll start here, at a previously known asteroid base which a band of Nausicaan raiders are known to have operated from. Enterprise in its mission reports stated that the freighter Fortunate managed to track a Nausicaan raider to this point. It stands to reason that we'll likely encounter them there once more."

"How many Nausicaan ships are we talking about, captain?" Rowley asked as he nodded to the map.

"Captain Archer reported encountering three of them here. But hopefully we can catch more than just a few of their ships here and disable them before they can run. Starfleet is most familiar with the Nausicaans, they've been a thorn in the side of our freighters for years and I've personally fought them before while captain of the Adege. A Ganges is a relatively even match for one of their raiders and is about the same size albeit a bit faster at warp, relatively speaking. Warspite will be a nasty shock to them," Shaw gave an eager grin.

"The Nausicaans will often be hired out by the Orion Syndicate, sir, sometimes being used as extra muscle if they don't have the ships available themselves," Frost piped up, "Where we find the Nausicaans, we might find intel on where to find the Orions."

"Then that will be our secondary objective when searching the station. Enterprise's data gathered from the encounter," Shaw brought up the schematics of the Nausicaan cargo station itself, "Colonel what can you say about what you'll need to take this place and render it inoperable if we cannot find use for it ourselves?"

"Well…" Odell narrowed his eyes as he walked a few steps to get a closer look at the schematics, "Looks like a standard cargo waystation and refueling depot. We'll want to avoid weapons fire against these locations," he picked out the spots nearest possible fuel lines and fuel tanks, and away from the station's possible nerve centers, and away from living quarters and warehouse spaces, "If I can get three insertion teams here, in the main hangar, here at this docking tube near the control station, and here at the reactor, we can assert control within three hours."

"If we want to destroy it, a few torpedoes into its reactor and into the fuel tanks will rupture the asteroid and pop it open like a balloon," Rowley now offered his own technical expertise.

"Not likely, Nausicaan fusion reactors are not powerful enough to trigger the sort of meltdown you describe," T'Pmin replied in turn, "However a nuclear strike delivered with detonation set to within the confines of the station will eliminate the entire complex as a useful asset, however."

"I would prefer to avoid using a nuclear weapon on something this lowly, Sub-Commander," Captain Shaw shook his head.

"In which case set phaser cannons to full power, stand off to a safe distance and fire away until the damn rock cracks in half," Rowley shrugged indifferently, "No sense in complicating matters right?"

"It'll give the weapons systems a good test run…very well. Make sure weapons systems preparations are complete by the time we enter potentially hostile space. Colonel, I recommend you select your boarding party and begin rehearsing different training scenarios. Lieutenant Commander Frost, and Lieutenant Povaliy, you will assist in programming the MACO's VR training headsets with the relevant scenarios in boarding and seizing Nausicaan ships, Orion ships, and that station, the good Colonel will give you his priority scenario details," Shaw ordered firmly, "Doctor, I would recommend you begin to train your people on potential mass casualty scenarios, we do intend to inflict some damage upon our foe, but I would like them alive if possible for interrogation. Commander Rowley you will see to potential prisoner holding areas and formulate possible responses from Nausicaan ships so that I may begin working with Ensigns Simms and Castello on combat maneuvers against them. We have twenty-two days before we plan to go into action. I expect basic updates on preparations at the conclusion of every shift's complete rotation. If you have any questions or concerns, my door is always open. Anything else before we break?"

The other officers gave their agreements to this set of orders. Although it was evident that Lieutenant Colonel Odell was somewhat disappointed with not being en route to the main theater of conflict. This was to be expected to an extent. But there was another sense within the senior staff which Captain Shaw took notice of, one of relief. The ship was new, the crew untested as a unit, and the senior officers still needed to gel as a group. Perhaps this mission would be what was needed. After all, the Romulans were a very different threat than the lesser threat profile of the likes of the Orion or the Nausicaans.

"Very well, Commander Rowley, you have the bridge, all others, you have your orders. Doctor, if you'll see me in my ready room?"

"Of course," Dr. Watson responded as they exited the command center and Captain Shaw entered the hall that accessed the captain's quarters and ready room.

The two then entered the large ready room and Shaw let out a long sigh as he went over to his electric fireplace and turned it on, the holographic fire mimicked coming to life.

"Love what you've done with the place," Watson declared, arching his eyebrows as he carefully observed the captain walk over to a coat hangar next to his office and put on the red satin smoking jacket which was hanging there and then took his boots off and withdrew a pair of slippers in a heated drawer in the cabinet, "Still experiencing cold intolerance?"

"It comes and goes," Shaw grumbled as he pulled his Afghan blanket off the back of his reading chair and sat down, pulling it over his legs and sighed contentedly, "But since I've been back aboard the ship it feels worse than before."

"Well seeing as you were in an escape pod for six days hovered in a state of severe hypothermia long enough to kill most men, I suppose this should have been no surprise," Watson sighed as he walked past him, and pulled out a cup from the tea cabinet and placed it in the food synthesizer and tapped the control, "Tea, Jasmine, strong, hot, with honey and milk."

"Thank God for the Warspite, I couldn't have gotten this heater aboard any ship except this one," Shaw noted pleasantly as the tea mixture was dispensed as requested.

"It's not a Victorian parlor, but it will certainly do," Watson smirked back as he checked the tea, not quite sold on the brand-new synthesizer, "Are you keeping up with your physical therapy?"

"Everything you prescribed," Shaw responded as he turned the chair to face the doctor.

"Then take some more of your doctor's advice?" Watson turned back with the steaming cup of tea, "Don't skip tea," he smirked, and Shaw took the cup and saucer with a roll of the eyes as Watson took his own cup, "You are an English gentleman after all, and you and I must represent jolly old England. Tea, Darjeeling, hot, with milk," he said as the appropriate tea was dispensed, and he then came to a quick question in his mind, "This machine can craft food, right?"

"Indeed, so long as it's in its database."

"And I assume that's just about every recipe known to man?"

"Naturally."

"Smoked salmon tea sandwich on whole wheat, crustless."

A flurry of blue molecules emerged and coalesced, emerging into the vibrant form of said tea time sandwich. Watson smirked, looking over at the captain who just nodded and chuffed at the realization of Watson that their synthesizers were quite good. The doctor came back over and sat down with his tea and sandwich at the couch.

"Care to continue our game?"

"New game you mean?" Shaw inquired as he agreed, gesturing with his hand towards the window where a wooden box held an old school chess set.

"Indeed," Watson said as he took a sip of tea, and began to set up the pieces after removing them, "Out of curiosity, what is this I heard today in the mission briefing about nuclear weapons? We have them aboard?" he inquired incredulously.

"Six missiles, capable of ship-to-ship combat or planetary bombardment. Each with five warheads and five decoys, ten megaton yields per weapon," Captain Shaw declared nonchalantly as he leaned forward and set up his own pieces, opting for the darker set.

"Not sure what I think of that," Dr. Watson sighed as he leaned back, "Captain's honor," he gestured to the completed board.

The two had grown to enjoy a game of chess. Captain Shaw had been admitted to the Starfleet intensive care unit barely alive where the two had met. Once he was able to, and every day they played a game of chess in the cafeteria, discussing the various goings-on of the day. This was the origin of the friendship which had led to the course of events that saw Dr. Watson to join the Warspite's crew. Among his reasons for being aboard was that he had the intention of aiding in the training of the Starfleet medical personnel, and to offer an outsider's point of view to the affairs of the ship. So, Shaw settled in, taking a sip of tea as he did so, sighing as he felt its warmth pass over him. He felt as though he truly needed it.

"In terms of the safety of the crew or on the principal of having nuclear warheads aboard?" Shaw curiously asked as he made a move with one of his pawns and sat back, cradling his cup of tea.

"Both," Watson replied as he then took a bite of his sandwich, "It's not such a secret that the nuclear weapons of Earth are old, perhaps unstable according to some reports."

"Would you think me willing to allow unstable weapons aboard the largest and fastest ship in the fleet?" Shaw arched an eyebrow at the question.

"I think you'd be willing to use whatever means you could get your hands on if you assessed you may have use for them. I'd guess you want them as a way to threaten these Orion into ceasing hostilities," Watson leaned forward and made his own answering move.

"It's more than just nuclear blackmail, Doctor. These Orion must have sensors that can detect our nuclear weapons, even with the strength of our ship's more advanced electronic countermeasures, they'll know they're there. I won't have to blackmail them, not overtly anyway. From the reports I've read, the Orion are well-connected through the trade lanes, they are all too aware of the fact we and the Romulans are regularly trading nuclear hammer blows with one another. I don't think anyone would look at that and say we wouldn't escalate any further if provoked," Shaw explained as he examined the board for potential moves.

"So, it is more a case of a passive menacing," Watson stated and sipped at his tea, "Interesting play to use on an entity which has made piracy its premier cultural facet according to the files we have."

"First we must establish our own reputation, the sort that tells these Orion that negotiating with us will be far less costly than it would be to try to fight us," Shaw moved his knight in response to the play of his opponent.

"And what reputation would that be?"

"That Warspite will go where it pleases and do what it pleases with the Orion being unable to do anything about it."

"So, you intend to instill the ship's reputation into their hierarchy prior to warping into orbit of their homeworld?"

"More or less, letting our ship be a known quantity that they cannot match armed with nuclear weapons orbiting their homeworld will be a strong enough negotiating position to start talks towards ending the hostilities they have shown our merchants," Shaw explained further, "I've also given thought to how we'll do this. We'll act like Orions, not engaging in hostilities within their local space. According to Miss Frost's report, it is an unspoken understanding, one that we'll honor. If we don't, that may only serve to antagonize towards a greater conflict. After all, these Orion are businessmen, not monsters. If we threaten them, it will simply be giving the Romulans a gift in the form of a more steadfast ally."

"And when we are away from Orion space?" Watson moved his own piece, guarding an approach towards his king, which drew a smirk from Shaw.

"We channel that old tradition of the Royal Navy, protect our commerce by attacking theirs."

"I thought we sought to avoid threatening these Orion pirates?"

"Their planet, yes, their pocketbooks however, that is a different story. To them, piracy is simply a form of business, if we threaten that method of income sufficiently, then we will lay the groundwork for negotiations towards allowing our freighters to pass through Orion space. And if we, as Miss Frost stated, pay the protection fee, the Nausicaans will be rendered inert while under Orion protection, and the travel time from Coridan to our worlds will be cut in half and likely we'll be able to allow our merchants the ability to begin networking with some of the Orions' trade partners, which we are in desperate need of, as I'm sure you are aware."

"And you think you would be able to get Starfleet and the Cargo Service to agree to pay whatever protection fee you can manage to negotiate?"

"Certainly would be preferable to having to organize escorts for convoys and doubling or even tripling travel time for all freighter traffic," Shaw responded thoughtfully.

"Indeed, and your…affliction?"

"I'll be fine," Shaw grumbled, waving it off.

"Cold intolerance can be the sign of a more serious underlying condition, Captain, even if it is not manifesting its true symptoms," Watson responded quickly.

"Doctor," Shaw asserted more forcefully, and then sighed after doing so, "I said I'll be fine. We have at least two weeks before we need to assume a combat footing when we leave Vulcan space. I've got at least that long to fully recover, don't I?"

"I suppose so…well old boy, it's your move."

Date: January 20, 2157

Time: 1900

"G'day chef!" Lieutenant Commander Frost poked her head into the captain's mess, being the second to arrive behind the ship's chef, Chef Gabriel Salamanca, formerly of Mexico City and his Michelin Star restaurant, Maria's, a family-owned affair dating back over a century which Chef Gabe, as he liked to be called, took to the next level after a stint of culinary school in Paris. The restaurant was now one of the most famous in Mexico. But he'd left it to his brother and sister to run, and now was in Starfleet.

"Hola le! Commander Frost! Good to see you," Chef Gabe beamed brightly as he stood up from the large table, having just turned on some electric candles inside of a trio of glass cups with red edges, hand-blown pieces he'd brought from his restaurant for use as centerpieces, "Ready for something auténtico?"

"Too right!" she said as she washed her hands at the sink at the small counter to the side of the door, "Need a hand setting up?"

"Aye no! Bella, look at me," the large portly man stated pleasantly, gesturing to himself. He was wearing a Starfleet uniform, with the badge of lieutenant at his rank and the science division piping, but he also had on a black apron, although he was still quite a hefty man, "Don't you think I know my way around a kitchen table?" he chided her and laughed, his high pitch tone betraying his comedic sensibilities.

"Alright, fair eh," she nodded and noted a small machine on the counter, spinning with a light whitish green slush spinning inside and some wide-brimmed cups next to it and a plate of coarse grained salt beside them, "Don't tell me?!"

"Margarita, like I told you, when I make dinner, I make it fun! Although the captain said, use synthehol, so it isn't totally authentic, but the tequila the replicators make is pretty good, ask me how I know," he laughed again, "So, it is close enough."

"Let me in on that action then," the blonde said quickly and went over to grab a cup and dipped the rim in some water and got a nice helping of salt and then from the slush machine's tap, came the margarita.

"So, how's business been? Anything interesting since those last drills?" Chef Gabe asked as he checked his work and Bella took a drink from a straw she grabbed from next to the machine.

"Nah, just the usual, lots of training. Captain's got the ship's shifts working hard to get up to speed before we get out of friendly space."

"Yeah I noticed, apparently my staff's got a slot training slot tomorrow with the MACO detachment, enhanced self-defense training. How 'bout you? Got a date with the jarheads?"

"Sunday morning, oh-six-thirty."

"Aww…you're not gonna miss chorizo breakfast tacos?"

"Probably…" she shook her head, "Unless you can hook me up, maybe?"

"Don't worry, Commander, I got you," Chef Gabe winked, giving a thumbs up as the door opened and in walked Captain Shaw, Sub-Commander T'Pmin, and Lieutenant Povaliy, "Captain! Good to see you, you hungry?"

"Famished, what's on the menu tonight?" Captain Shaw greeted his head chef as he walked in and took his seat.

"First, got some of your favorites, Chile Relleno, with Poblano peppers and Oaxaca cheese, and for the main course, we have, for the first time this trip, Tacos de Lengua, beef tongue tacos. Although, I know our Vulcan colleague doesn't eat meat or use your fingers, so I made you some baked cauliflower tacos and on the side we Elote, Mexican street corn, some rice, and some black beans."

"My thanks for your consideration," T'Pmin bowed her head in thanks, "I am however willing to…touch," she internally winced, "My food."

"You hear that?! She's doing it!" Chef Gabe giddily gasped, "I'm gonna take a picture."

"Please don't," T'Pmin instantly replied.

"It all sounds delicious, Chef," Shaw said as he noticed the margarita machine, "Are you serious chef? You actually got it working?" he stood back up and walked over to the machine.

"You said if I got it working, I could serve it. Never underestimate a Michelin Star Mexican chef, Captain. You will always be surprised."

"Well, you've certainly outdone yourself, old boy," Shaw smirked as he dispensed a cup for himself and tasted it, "Mmm…just like the real thing, although a bit strong isn't it?"

"Just like momma taught me," he said as he pulled a chair out for Lieutenant Povaliy, who took the seat as the others likewise sat down, "So, noticed that you've got the lady officers only tonight, what's going on, Captain?"

"That is an intriguing question, Captain," T'Pmin noted, "I find this coincidence quite notable."

"There's a matter specifically for you, my female senior officers, that I need to discuss," Shaw stated.

"Whatever it was I didn't do it," Chef Gabe winced audibly as he turned around, somewhat of a tease, making Shaw smirk and shake his head as their appetizers were brought out. The ladies in the room shared a look amongst themselves as they did so.

"It's regarding how we will handle any Orion…females," Captain Shaw informed them as he took a saltshaker and gave a few light taps on his plate.

"Now it makes sense," Frost said with relief.

"Is Dr. Watson encountering difficulties with the inoculations?" Lieutenant Povaliy inquired curiously, "I can assist him once we have finished programming the training goggles."

"That would be of a good deal of assistance. Thank you, Lieutenant," Shaw began to cut up his food as the other officers did likewise, beginning to dig in, "But, I am still thinking about the fact that not even the Vulcans have come to figure a way to neutralize their pheromones. So, all male personnel will be restricted from being in the presence of any Orion females and that only female MACO and security personnel will be the only ones permitted in their vicinity without EV suits. Dr. Watson will of course need to offer you ladies some strong pain relievers, as I'm led to believe that the presence of Orion pheromones gives you headaches."

"It's true, sir," Bella noted as she remembered her time in the freighter business growing up, "I got a real bad one the one time I was on a planet where there Orion."

"It is a logical step captain," T'Pmin stated nonchalantly, "But what is your plan of action in the case of you or other senior officers being compromised?"

"I would hope you all have the strength to keep me in line and informed," Shaw stated as he began to eat, "Now, I have done some thinking. Our ships that have been targeted and destroyed, they have always had their most valuable cargoes stripped. And clearly this strategy continues to work for the pirates near the nebula, so, they must have someone working with them to buy their cargoes. Who would be buying those stolen goods? Where are they? And what can we do about them?"

"The Orion Free Traders are the major movers of illicitly-gotten goods in the region," T'Pmin stated firmly as she took a drink of her water, and winced internally as she showed a very slight degree of discomfort, a little bit of sweat beading on her forehead.

"You alright, Sub-Commander?" Lieutenant Povaliy asked.

"I…had not expected this level of spice. My compliments, Chef Gabe," the Vulcan nodded over to the chef as he was returning.

"Was that spicy enough?" Chef Gabe grinned brightly.

"Yes, it is quite invigorating."

"Invigorating?" Shaw asked.

"I put Habaneros in that thing, and she's barely even sweating. I've seen grown men cough and hack when they tried that stuff," Gabe whispered suspiciously.

"Impressive," the captain grumbled.

"There's also another group that would buy up the goods, if it isn't the Orion or the Romulans, there's a station near to Valakis, we called it 'Pirate Central' because there were always ships we knew to belong to pirates there. My dad once had to go there to pay a tribute of deuterium so that the Endurance could leave unmolested. Apparently it's run by a Ferengi named Neram."

"Ferengi?" Shaw arched an eyebrow, "Another species known to engage in piracy…I remember reading about them," he then looked over at the ladies at the table, "We may want to keep our female personnel from their sight. They seem prone to take them as goods."

Lieutenant Povaliy quickly went wide-eyed, looking to Frost for confirmation, to which the older officer shrugged indifferently and nodded. Most Starfleet officers only knew of Ferengi only through a single report from Captain Archer when a small Ferengi pirate band had boarded Enterprise and tried to make off with some its cargo, equipment, their female personnel, and Archer's beagle.

"My pop said they were a humanoid species, with big ears and were known to be businessmen, apparently it's their species's whole reason for being. They have a whole rulebook, the Rules of Acquisition that seems to govern their lives, at least to a big bloody extent. Word around the ship was that this guy, Neram, bribed the Valakian government to look the other way while he bought goods stolen from freighters from across the local space and shipped them through to the Orion as a middle-man, and provided a lot of the goods that the Valakians and Menk imported. If I remember right, he sold fuel, equipment, and entertainment aboard his station. It seemed like he made a point of squeezing out the pirates for every bit of latinum that they'd have been willing to spend or gamble away."

"I believe it would be worth our while to pay this…Neram, a visit then," Shaw nodded.

"The Ferengis' entire civilization and culture is built upon the pursuit of profit and material wealth," T'Pmin explained herself, "Violence from any species, except Klingons, they do not pay very much in the way of respect towards."

"Why Klingons?" Povaliy asked.

"The Klingons are a warrior race, their entire culture is built towards the pursuit of the perfection of armed combat. Very rarely will the Klingons fight someone and not see the matter through to its ultimate and often permanent conclusion. Having a foe so dedicated towards your destruction is undoubtedly bad for business," Shaw explained firmly, getting an odd look from Frost and T'Pmin, "I read the Vulcan report. But, I am curious as to this Neman character, and to his influence and pull within the system that stands to benefit from the increased piracy of our ships. Perhaps we may be able to use that. Miss Frost, can you gather whatever information you can from any ECS contacts you might have and build a report for me?"

"No worries, Captain. I'll have something for you as soon as I can."

"Excellent," Shaw said as he dug in, "Mmm…this is quite spicy. Tell me you didn't put any Habeneros in mine?" he deadpanned at his chef.

"Nah, just Serrano."

"Serrano? That's what…" Lieutenant Povaliy said as she was seen to be turning red, her brow shining and sweat beading rapidly, apparently she was not nearly as resilient to spice as the others at the table.

"Twenty-five thousand Scoville Units," T'Pmin added, "Compared to eight thousand for a…Jalapeño."

"That's pretty bloody hot," he smirked, shaking his head.

"Wait until we get to dinner…" Chef Gabe smirked.

Date: February 3, 2158

Time: 2100

"Well, well, well," Eddie called out as he walked in, finding the ship's bar quite packed, "Looks like a festive time."

"Sure is," his roommate, Ensign Terry Chopra, a security officer now off-duty like him.

The ship was on a heightened alert, so they were in their uniforms. Normally, in the ship's bar, situated on the port side of G Deck roughly at the ten o'clock position when viewed from above, it was more favorably looked-upon to wear civilian attire, part of the emphasis on the bar's intent to foster a mood where the crew could unwind and release tensions. But still, the inclusion of Synthehol had made the ship's bar quite the attraction for the ship's crew and officers, with or without uniforms. And the crew was large by Starfleet standards, the current souls aboard numbering six hundred and fifty-five officers and enlisted. So, there was certainly a lot of fraternizing and flirting going on with people that they otherwise wouldn't have met before.

"Let's get a drink, come on," Eddie declared as they walked in.

"Sounds good to me," Terry said in agreement as the two walked over to the bar which stood in the middle of the inboard wall facing a row of tables in between the bar and the booths that were situated against the window with the stars zipping by from right to left. The ship was still going Warp 6, so the stars were definitely moving quickly. There were also a number of tall tables for just standing, as well as a few dart boards on the wall to their right side on that wall. Above the bar were a line of screens showing various sports events, old ones, but still, it fit the mood.

The synthesizers, four of them, two on each end of the bar, framed the bar itself which acted as a secondary mess, capable and equipped to make some casual bar fair. Notably, a flattop grill was facing them with some friers there as well making anything fried that could fit. Quite a number of things were made, sourcing from many places on Earth. But there were scheduled days where certain things were available for request. Tonight, it was burger night, and apparently the cook who ran this kitchen in the bar grilled a mean smash burger. Eddie and Terry made their way over, not feeling like a burger, yet.

"Beer, German lager, dark," Eddie stated into the machine after snagging from a two-sided freezer a glass mug which had the Warspite's badge embroidered onto it and sticking it under machine.

Down the dark liquid came, forming a nice foaming effect to it and once its scanner registered it reached the perfect fill line it stopped. He took a quick sip, sort of on instinct to keep the foam from spilling as he turned and Terry came in after him.

"Hard cider, apple," Terry asked, making Eddie turn around as he got his own iced mug filled.

"Hard cider, really?" Eddie scoffed as the two walked back towards the tables, almost all of them filled.

"What? I don't that hoppy taste from beer," Terry waved him off as they walked forward, looking for any of their friends.

"Dude, you gotta man up, you're on the Warspite."

"Hold up, isn't that Monica?" Terry patted him on the chest, pointing over at a booth that had four female ensigns sitting in it, Eddie's fellow bridge crew, Monica Simms, amongst them. They had some slushy type cocktails in front of them plus a cluster of shot glasses in the middle, as they were chatting happily.

"Yeah, with some of her girlfriends, c'mon let's say hi," Eddie said confidently, rather liking the look of things over at that table, "Well, well, well, girls night huh Monica?"

"Oh God, told you he'd show up," Monica rolled her eyes at Eddie's arrival with Terry.

"Take a shot ladies," Ensign Reese, Monica's brunette roommate who was in communications as an analyst and linguist, said as she grabbed from the shot glasses.

The girls all grabbed a shot glass and downed the clear liquid and then slapped them upside down onto the tray. They all laughed at the notion of the shots they'd taken thus far, which had probably been more than a few times by now.

"What was that about?" Eddie asked as he gestured to the glasses.

"Any time a guy approaches the table looking to flirt, we take a shot," Monica declared.

"And we have had more than a few shots as you can see."

"Got your adrenaline patches? Because I'd bet the Synthehol would take more than a few minutes to be neutralized judging by what you've got in your systems," Terry replied, arching an eyebrow.

The bar handed out a small band-aid-like patch which delivered a strengthened adrenaline boost into the body to help dissipate and neutralize the alcoholic mimicry effect of Synthehol in the event of an alert going out. It was required for all bar patrons to apply this patch if they were called to stations due to a tactical alert. A member of the ship's security team was present at the bar's entrance making sure this policy was adhered to.

"So, you boys looking to find yourselves some company?" one of the other girls, Ensign Yoshida who wore the red of operations, herself an engineer, said with an inebriated grin on her face.

"Looking to leave the girls night already?" Eddie leaned confidently in.

"Easy stick jockey, this isn't San Francisco, the ladies here aren't all that easy," Monica put a finger to his chest, "And I don't think you're quite up to the standard."

"I don't know Monica, let him make his case, it's been so long since a guy's tried his luck with you," Ensign Yoshida's roommate, Ensign Marlow, a cherry blonde girl from security, teased the two male ensigns.

"Emma!" Monica jabbed her friend.

"Oh?" Terry arched his eyebrows at that, "Now, how can that be?"

"Here I thought you said you weren't single?" Eddie said with a confident tone of freshly gained knowledge and catching her in a lie.

"Uh oh…someone's interested…" Ensign Reese declared tauntingly, "Better look out Monica…"

"Yeah right, I'm getting some more shots," Monica got up, rather unsteadily, having to catch herself as she did so.

"Here, I'll give you a hand."

"Not a big deal," she waved him off, and reached into her pocket, and peeled her adrenaline patch and slapped it onto the back of her hand and walked towards the bar, "You had to kill my buzz."

"Buzz? You were practically drunk!" Eddie laughed as he followed along, taking a swig of his beer, now noting he'd downed about a quarter of the mug.

"Yeah! Duh, that's the point!" Monica gawked at him before grabbing a tray and put a dozen shot glasses on it and started to pour out her and her little gang's next round of shots.

"So, what's this about you lying about having a boyfriend?"

"Didn't fancy you guys flirting with me while we were still working up with the ship. In case you hadn't noticed, it's been pretty busy lately. Not a lot of time for keeping up with a relationship, don't you think?" she deadpanned to him.

"Oh, so you were thinking about it. Perhaps keeping the riffraff away while you picked the real stars on the ship," Eddie said confidently.

"Puh-lease, you are so full of it," she rolled her eyes as she filled her shot glasses.

"The captain paid me a decent compliment."

"He told you 'well-done' in an off-hand way. Hardly a ringing endorsement of your self-assured superiority at the helm."

"Hadn't you heard about the Captain before?" Eddie scoffed.

"That he was Captain of the Adege, and he lost her in a fight near Andoria against three Bird-of-Prey but still got two of them, and that he had a hand in the development of the Yorktown-Class," Monica replied, "Everyone knows that."

"That's only part of the story," Eddie declared, holding an arm out before she could turn to go back to the table, "He fought in Starfleet's first big fight, way back in 2149. The Adege drove off three Nausicaan raiders all by herself. He rescued the Amazon in 2154, destroying two more Nausicaans and chasing a third ship to an outpost where rumor has it, he captured twenty pirates, and hung 'em from a tree," Eddie whispered excitedly, "I heard one of the lieutenants talking about it. The guy's apparently the most feared captain in all of Starfleet."

"Hanging pirates? Seriously? That's ridiculous, he's a helluva captain, but he's not some sort of…whatever you're trying to paint him as."

"He's a legend is what he is. But the pansies in the Admiralty don't want to talk about it because it might make Humans look like loose cannons to the likes of our allies. I mean…did you hear what we're carrying in the secondary launch bay?"

"What about it?" Monica looked over suspiciously.

"Nukes, six missiles, thirty warheads in total in their MIRV's, ten megaton yields in each. It's enough firepower to wipe a continent off the map," Eddie declared, which made Monica turn her head, she had noticed the increased security around the secondary launch bay, but had not put that to be the reason, "You're putting it together, aren't you?"

"Yeah, maybe, but it doesn't mean our captain is some kind of attack dog."

Then, the music cut off, and a shrill alarm klaxon rang out.

"This is a tactical alert, all hands to your stations!" the voice on the shipwide comm ordered quickly and concisely.

This was it.

Next chapter will have the first battle scene of many, hopefully. So sit tight, it's something I am looking forward to sharing with you guys.