Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount.   The Captain’s Table concept is owned by Simon and Schuster and Pocketbooks.   Star Traks is owned by Alan Decker.   The Reject’s Table was Anthony Butler and Alan Decker’s bright idea.   I own Star Traks: Next Frontier.   I’m just borrowing Butler and Decker’s idea for a little bit.

 

Star Traks: Next Frontier

 

“The Reject’s Table: Past Indiscretions”

 

By Cory Parker

 

            “Well, what a nice place this is,” mused Halloway as he donned his designer sunglasses and walked down the crowded street.  

            “Beats Romulus,” commented Halvox.

            “You’ve been there?”

            “That’s classified.”   Halloway shrugged and continued walking.   The city of Krillan was located on the planet Benek IV, whose local government had asked Halloway to help settle a dispute between them and their neighbors on Benek III.   After five long days of negotiations, a peace had finally been met.   The official ceremony was scheduled to occur in 3 hours, so he and Halvox, who had acted as a diplomatic advisor on the trip, were killing time.   The street was filled with vendors of every type, from used shuttlecraft to the latest trends in planetary fashion.   Halvox ducked into a weapons shop for a moment, leaving Halloway alone on the street.   Glancing around, an intriguing sign caught the eye of the captain of the Haymaker.  

            “Kerry, I’m going across the street for a moment,” he hollered over the sound of weapons fire.  

            “I’m not your mother,” was Halvox’s response as she tested another pulse rifle.   Halloway sighed and pushed his way through the crowd.   The crew’s stay in Sector 66-F was going on a year and a half now, and Bobby was beginning to wonder if Crane would ever let them get back to Federation space.   Approaching the door, he pulled out his pocket Benekian dictionary and translated the words engraved in the wooden sign.  

            “‘The Captain’s Table’, eh?   Sounds just right for me,” said Halloway to no one in particular.   Placing his hand on the door, he pushed and passed through the entrance.   Upon entering, he was struck by the eccentricity of the place and the diversity of its clientele.   Aliens of all description were seated at the numerous tables, each with a drink in their hand, or whatever similar appendage they might possess.  

            “Hello, Captain Halloway, nice to finally meet you.”   Halloway turned to see the bartender smiling at him.   He appeared to be a middle-aged human, with gray hair and an infectious smile, but as Sector 66-F frequently showed, appearances were often deceiving.   Halloway strode up to the bar, and hopped on a stool.  

            “What do you mean by finally?   And how do you know my name?”

            “It’s all over the news.   The peace talks,” responded the bartender, motioning towards a computer screen.  

            “Oh.   I’d forgotten.   Of course.”   The bartender extended a hand, which Bobby grasped firmly. 

            “Call me Cap.   Everybody else does.”

            “Call me Bobby.   Not everybody does.”   Cap chuckled and motioned to the wall behind him, which was filled with all sorts of exotic liquids.   “Drink?”

            “I’d better not.   I have a peace ceremony to oversee in three hours…” Plopping a glass filled with a blue liquid in front of Bobby, Cap smiled and turned to clean a beer mug.   “Oh, what the hell…” Taking a sip, Bobby grinned and looked at Cap.   “Romulan ale?   Quite hard to come by.”

            “Not in Sector 66-F, it isn’t.”

            “Good point.”   Taking another drink, Halloway turned and took a more detailed look around the place.   He had never seen such an assortment of different species in one place before.   Jyinion, Klingon, Cardassian, even a few Romulans were seen laughing and drinking in the crowded bar.   Suddenly, a face caught Halloway’s eye.   “Oh, sh*t.”

            “Drink not to your liking?” inquired Cap.  

            “No, the drink’s fine.   What the hell is Crane doing here?” asked Bobby in a near panic.   “I thought he was sitting comfortably in his office on Earth.”   Cap grinned and leaned on the bar.

            “He is.”

            “Then, who the hell is that?” 

            “Captain Jack Crane, of the USS Renegade.”   Halloway looked at Cap with a look of confusion.  

            “How the hell does THAT work?” he stammered out after a moment.  

            “My advice on temporal mechanics is: don’t even try to understand it.”   Halloway shrugged and began digging in his pockets for some currency.  

            “This place is freaking me out.   How much do I owe you for the drink?”   Cap smiled and placed his hand on Halloway’s.  

            “Drinks here are paid for by a story, not money.   Tell a tale, your tab is clean.”

            “That’s all?”

            “Yep.”

            “Man, these temporal anomalies sure are cheap.”   Halloway motioned for Cap to top off his ale.   “You want a tale, I got one for ya.   It involves me, the esteemed Captain Crane over there, and a certain young admiral’s daughter whom I got to know a little too well…”

 

            Let me start for the beginning.   When the Dominion entered into an alliance with Cardassia, I was just a lowly lieutenant who ran the graveyard shift on board the Galaxy-class starship USS Renegade.   Only three years out of the Academy, I had worked my way up the ranks through a series of rather unfortunate events that I won’t get into right now.   Let’s just say I was in the right place at the right time, a lot of the time.   Anyway, the Renegade was stationed at Starbase 57, near the far end of the DMZ.   Our job was to protect wounded ships while they underwent repairs at the starbase.  

            “Status report,” I had called out for the fifth time that night.   Starfleet Command had ordered all ships to maintain yellow alert, and constant status reports were an annoying fact we all had to live with.   The Gamma shift was a rather tight-knit group, we had to be.   Everybody else on the damn ship was asleep, so we had to get along.  

            “Same as it was fifteen minutes ago,” responded Ensign Samantha Davis from Ops.   Now Sam, she was quite a young woman.   It was her first year out of the Academy, and she had already found a steady post on board a ship.   The fact that we were losing a lot of people to the war also factored in to her good fortune, but never mind that.   She and I had dated off and on ever since she came on board the Renegade.   Sam does this thing with her tongue, it’s absolutely incred…never mind.   She’s a great officer, let’s leave it at that for now.  

            “Humor me,” I said with a smile.  

            “Still no activity on long-range sensors.   57 reports all is well, and the Odyssey and the Truman are safe and sound, undergoing repairs.”  

            “Glad to hear it.   How are we doing?”

            “T’Pac down in Engineering reports a slight fluctuation in the plasma flow; he has a team on it now,” Sam reported, clearly bored with repeating information.  

            “Thank you, Miss Davis.   Lucky, why don’t you run through a few maneuvers?” I asked.   The conn officer, Lt. ‘Lucky’ Lindy Kellar, grinned and cracked his knuckles.  

            “With pleasure, boss.”   I sat back and watched the acrobatics.   Lucky was like every other pilot I have ever met.   He liked to impress the ladies, and he fancied himself a better pilot that the Alpha conn officer, a strait-laced Andorian named Belia.   Of this fact he frequently reminded the rest of us, especially tactical officer Ensign Kristina Morrison, a lovely little redhead who Lucky tried in vain to enter into a relationship with.   She was not impressed by his flyboy attitude, and her cold demeanor only served to drive Lucky on.   Which now, I admit, was probably her plan all along.   Yes sir, the Gamma shift of the USS Renegade was a tight unit, all right.   A fact I reflected on as I glanced over at Sam.   Her blonde hair had a way of getting in her face, and she would spend half her shift fixing it, a habit I later observed on a certain first officer of mine.   I had a meeting with the captain at the end of my shift that day, and I remember being quite excited.   The executive officer of the Renegade had been promoted and moved on to her own command, leaving Beta shift without a head officer and the ship without an XO.   My name had filtered its way up to the captain, and hearing nothing but good from the Gamma crew (considering I let them do whatever they wanted to, no wonder they liked me), he wanted to have a meeting with me.  

            “Has anybody checked the time lately?” I asked suddenly, feeling the passage of time catch up with me.   Sam glanced at her station's chronometer.  

            “Shift’s up in two minutes,” she reported in a relieved tone.   Just then, the turbolift doors hissed open, and in walked the Alpha shift.   Actually, just the captain and the first officer.   We all stood and saluted, a practice I was quickly tiring of, but the captain insisted on it.  

            “At ease, Gamma.”   That was another thing.   He always referred to all of us by our shift.   A fact that Ensign Morrison used to complain about all the time at our daily shift dinners.   “Mr. Halloway, a moment of your time,” he called, entering his ready room.   I nodded and followed, leaving my crew (funny that I thought of my shift that way) in the hands of the one man they respected the least on the entire ship.   Commander Thaddeus Montgomery, what a hard-ass.   He must have graduated from the Travis Dillion School of Command.   Sam gave me a pleading, ‘help me’ look as I walked towards the ready room.   I could only shrug and give my condolences silently.   Upon entering the captain’s ‘inner sanctum’, as it were, I waited until he offered me a seat.   “You may sit down, Lieutenant.” 

            “Thank you, Captain.”   There I was, sitting face-to-face with Captain Jack Crane.   He was a good captain, fair, authoritative, a bit old-fashioned in his command style, but a good man nonetheless.   He had gained his fifteen minutes of fame a few weeks previous when the Renegade had found (stumbled upon is a better phrase) a small Cardassian convoy sneaking weapons and supplies to Jem’Hadar troops on the border.   We had successfully captured two of the ships and destroyed a third.   Cardassians can be so predictable sometimes.   Then again, they can bite you in the ass when you least expect it.   Anyway, there were whispers that when the war was over, he would be offered an admiralty because of the happenstance.   A fact I could care less about at the present moment, as Crane leaned back in his chair and gazed out his window at the stars.  

            “As you no doubt heard, our XO has left us for bigger and better things.   There’s a spot open for command of the Beta shift, and your name on the candidate list.”

            “I’m honored, sir.”

            “Lieutenant Yamato is up for the post, too.”   Charles Yamato was the Ops officer in Beta shift.   His best friend was Commander Montgomery, so that should tell you a little something about his personality.   “Quite frankly, Lt. Halloway, I’ve heard better comments about you than him.   But he’s been in the fleet longer, has more experience.   So you can see the dilemma before me.”

            ‘No, I can’t’, ‘ I thought with a smile.   ‘That jackass has the personality of a rock, and the intelligence of one, too.’   Wisely, I kept these comments to myself.  

            “So, Halloway, how would you run Beta shift, if I chose you over Mr. Yamato?”

            “I would run it like Gamma, sir.   With authority and efficiency.”   Crane smiled over that comment.   It was the sort of crap that Montgomery spewed out all the time, and Crane ate it up.   So I played the captain.   So what.  

            “Good answer, Halloway.   How would you adjust to the new crew under you?”

            “I would form my command to accentuate each of their strengths, and to work on their weaknesses.   Plus, I’d get to know them better.”

            “Really?”

            “Of course.   When one has a good personal relationship with someone, their professional relationship tends to run a little more smoothly.”   Sam immediately came to mind, but I wasn’t planning on getting THAT involved with Beta shift.  

            “Interesting philosophy,” commented Crane as he stared out his window.   I knew it was in direct opposite to Crane’s own, but who cares?   I was just speaking truthfully (for the most part), and if he didn’t like it, then I could always transfer to another post if I wanted advancement.   The captain thought for a moment, then turned back to face me with a soft smile.   “Well, Mr. Halloway, I believe I’ve found my man.   Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander.   The Beta shift will be yours starting tomorrow, as will be the official promotion ceremony.”   He stood up and offered his hand.   I grasped it firmly and smiled.   Grinned like a mad idiot is more accurate.   Only three years out of the Academy, and already I was a lieutenant commander.   It was almost too much.   Almost.   We walked out of his ready room together onto the bridge.   The rest of the Alpha shift had arrived, which meant my crew was down in the mess hall, beginning their daily gripe session.   I nodded to Montgomery with a slight grin.   He looked at me for a moment, not understanding the silent message I was sending him.   Suddenly, he understood.   As the turbolift doors closed, I saw him lean close to Crane and began talking rapidly.   I chuckled softly.   Montgomery was going to HATE that I was the new XO and not Yamato.   Come to think of it, I probably wasn’t going to be on the top of Yamato’s list, either.   Entering the mess hall, I headed for the table where the Gamma shift sat.  

            “So, what happened between you and Crane?” asked Sam as I sat down next to her, a replicated bowl of pasta in my hand.  

            “Oh, you know, the usual.   ‘Hey, How’s it going, How ‘bout a promotion?’   The usual chit-chat,” I said calmly, placing a forkful of pasta in my mouth.   All jaws dropped, except for T’Pac, the Vulcan head of Engineering during Gamma shift.   He merely raised an eyebrow and continued eating his plomeek soup.   Sam hugged me tightly and kissed me on the cheek.  

            “Good job, buddy,” said Lucky with a smile.  

            “We’re going to miss you, Bobby,” added Kristina with a sad smile.  

            “It’ll be okay, baby…” offered Lucky as he placed his hand on her thigh.   Without turning her head, Kristina brought back her fist and landed a solid strike on Lucky’s solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him.  

            “It’s not going to be the same without you,” continued Kristina as Lucky coughed violently.  

            “Did he mention who would be replacing you?” asked Sam.   I thought for a moment, running the current command structure through my head.   Unless specially appointed, the lead position for Gamma shift would be…

            “Oh, no,” I uttered out loud, not realizing it.   “Yamato.”

            “I thought you beat him out for the command of Beta shift,” said Kristina.

            “He did,” answered T’Pac.   “Logic suggests that Lt. Yamato will move into the spot formally held by Halloway.”  

            “He’s right,” I said.   “Yamato gets my command spot in Gamma shift.”

            “Oh, sh*t…” muttered Sam.

            “You can say that again,” said Kristina, as the blood drained from her face.

            “Oh, sh*t.”   A moral dilemma immediately arose within me.   On one hand, I was being promoted, just another step closer to command.   On the other, these were my friends I was leaving behind.   So they weren’t the best bridge crew in the fleet.   What they lacked in experience they made up with in heart.   Or some other sentimental crap like that.   Anyway, I did the only thing I could morally do at that moment.  

            “Man, you guys are in trouble,” I said before I had a chance to think about it.   Sam snapped her head around and glared at me.   That’s when I realized that I had done something very stupid.   Pissing her off meant no sex for AT LEAST a week, and that’s if I was lucky.   “Sorry,” I tried feebly.   She continued frowning and looked away.  

            “I don’t think Yamato’s going to let me continue my naps anymore,” said Kristina in a sad tone.  

            “Say goodbye to my midnight maneuvers!” yelled Lucky.  

            “No more games of Stratego with the computer,” sighed Sam.

            “Logic suggests that my interaction with Lt. Yamato will be quite limited,” said T’Pac calmly.   The rest of the table glared at the Vulcan.   He merely raised an eyebrow and returned to his soup.  

            “Now just hold on a minute,” I said, trying to calm them down.   “The captain might pick one of you to lead Gamma shift.”

            “Logic suggests that the captain will give Yamato the job because he is most qualified to be in a command position,” said T’Pac.

            “SHUT UP, T’PAC!!!” yelled the rest of Gamma shift.   He promptly went back to his soup.   Not knowing what to do, I stood up, and excused myself.   Sam and I shared another look.   I was checking to see if she was still mad.   She was.   On my way to my quarters, I couldn’t stop thinking about their predicament.   It seemed that they were doomed to spend the rest of the war under the command of an officer who didn’t know (in my humble opinion), the true meaning of command.   As time would tell, my crew would be getting a reprieve.                                                      

 

            By this time, a small group of captains had gathered around Halloway, listening intently to the story.   “So did you and Sam ever have sex again?” asked a human dressed in a white captain’s uniform, complete with hat and brass buttons.  

            “Bobby, this is Captain Stubing of the Pacific Princess,” introduced Cap.     

            “Pleased to meet you,” greeted Stubing.   The rest of the captains chuckled and suddenly burst into song.  

            “THE LOOOOOOVE BOAT!   SOON WILL BE MAKING ANOTHER RUUUUUN!” they sang at once, horribly out of tune.   Stubing frowned and tried to ignore his comrades.  

            “They’re just jealous,” he muttered to Halloway as he grabbed his drink and sat down on a nearby stool.   

            “Nice shorts, Stubby!” yelled a nearby Romulan.  

            “That’s Stubing, dammit!” he yelled back, clearly annoyed.   The crowd laughed as Halloway grinned and took another drink from his ale.  

            “Continue with your story, Bobby,” said Cap softly.   The group of captains calmed down and looked at Halloway.  

            “Where was I?   Ah, yes.   It was a few weeks later that fate dealt me a interesting hand…”

 

            As the war raged on, more and more ships came through the starbase.   We remained there, intent on protecting one of the only safe havens for light-years for wounded ships.   I quickly made friends with Beta shift, as they had warmed up to my command style very rapidly.   It seems that between the former XO’s departure and my promotion, Yamato had been calling the shots during the shift, and I soon discovered that the rest of Beta didn’t miss him much.   Even though things were going well for me professionally, my personal life was taking a turn for the worse.   Since I was going to bed when Sam was getting up for work, we didn’t see much of each other.   Our relationship was quickly deteriorating, and there seemed no easy fix.   In addition, my crew from Gamma seemed more and more depressed on those rare occasions when I saw them.   Even T’Pac seemed more stoic than usual.   Yamato needed to be dealt with, if only for the single reason that my libido needed exercising, and having Sam on a different shift didn’t help matters, either.   One day, I had been asked to join the Alpha staff meeting for a special briefing on new orders from Starfleet Command.   I really didn’t like staff meetings, only because Yamato was there too, and he and Montgomery always sat by one another, talking quietly and glancing my way every so often.   I ignored their childish behavior the best I could.  

            “Ladies and gentlemen, we have new orders.   Starfleet Intelligence has intercepted a Dominion communiqué that contains, among other things, a plan to raid Sirrus V.   As you are aware, Sirrus V is only a light-year away from Starbase 57.   If the Dominion establish a base there, an attack on the starbase is inevitable,” explained Crane, pointing to a star chart that was on the main display screen.   “Starfleet wants us to hide there and ambush the Dominion fleet.”

            “By ourselves?” asked Montgomery.  

            “No, of course not.   The Odyssey, the Truman, and the Challenger are going to be there with us.”

            “But aren’t they damaged?” inquired Yamato.  

            “Not as badly as anybody who might be intercepting our transmissions might think,” answered Crane.  

            “How many ships will the Dominion have?”

            “Eleven, Mr. Montgomery.”   The room became filled with conversation.   “I know that seems like a mismatched fight, but we’ll have surprise on our side.   Our fleet will leave at 1600 hours.   Mr. Halloway?”

            “Yes, Captain?”

            “You’re in charge of letting the other ships know what we’ll be doing.”

            “Aye, sir.”   As Crane relegated other duties, I felt good.   The captain had called on me to perform one of the most important duties having to do with our mission.   If all went well, I may just get promoted again.   The meeting soon concluded, and as I stood to leave, Montgomery called my name.   I walked over to him and Yamato, preparing to do verbal battle with Tweedledee and Tweedledum.   “Something I can do for you, Commander?”

            “Lt. Yamato has brought something to my attention,” he said in that superior tone of voice he had.   I smiled and looked blankly at Yamato.  

            “Yes, Lieutenant Yamato?” I asked, including the ‘lieutenant’ part just to get a rise out of him.   It didn’t work.

            “Mr. Halloway…” he started.  

            “That’s Lieutenant Commander Halloway, Yamato,” I said, pointing to the extra pip on my collar.   “Not ‘mister’.”   Yamato bit his lip and looked at Montgomery.  

            “Lt. Yamato has some concerns about Gamma shift.”

            “Oh, really?”

            “They are entirely unprofessional!” spat out Yamato, unable to hold back any longer.   “Just last week, I caught Lt. Kellar performing unscheduled and unsafe maneuvers with the ship!”

            “He does that,” I said calmly, folding my arms.  

            “Did he do them with you in command?”

            “Yes.”

            “And you let him!?!”

            “Sure, why not.   It’s good practice.   I’d rather have a pilot who is completely familiar with his ship than one who is afraid to break a few regs to save his ass.”   Both officers looked shocked.   “Don’t like it, Yamato?   Then find another place on the ship to be.   Or better yet, another ship.”

            “If you didn’t outrank me, Halloway…” growled Yamato.    

            “Tut tut, young man.   That’s Lieutenant Commander Halloway, remember?   Do that again, and I’ll write you up for insubordination.   I happen to outrank you, you know,” I said, waving a finger.

            “And I outrank you, Halloway,” said Montgomery.   I slowly turned to the commander and smiled slightly.  

            “Not for long,” I said, grinning.  

            “You’d better watch yourself, Halloway, or you might find yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place, understand?” warned Montgomery.  

            “Are we through?” I asked, finally having enough of this nonsense.   After a moment, Montgomery nodded.   I smiled politely to both of them and made my exit.   I wasn’t afraid of those two fools, and the incident soon left my mind as I went about coordinating the fleet.  

           

            “What does this have to do with Sam?” asked Stubing.

            “Absolutely nothing,” I answered.   “It makes for good storytelling, though.   Say, nobody here has ever seen either of those two in here, have you?”   The crowd was silent for a moment, then erupted with laughter.

            “I don’t believe they are patrons here,” said Cap finally, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.   Halloway smiled.

            “Oh, that’s good.”

 

            1600 hours came and gone.   Our fleet had taken a rather roundabout way to get to Sirrus V, as not to attract attention, but we had finally made it.   It was 20 minutes until the Dominion forces came, and our tiny fleet was hidden behind the planet’s large twin moons.   We waited in silence as the minutes slowly ticked by.   They would arrive right in the middle of the Gamma rotation, but the Alpha crew was there instead, and myself, as I was in charge of coordinating the fleet.   Crane and the rest of the bridge crew seemed cool as cucumbers, except for Montgomery, who was constantly drumming on his armrests with his fingers.   He had acted like this when we had stumbled across the small Cardassian fleet weeks ago.   Hard-ass that he was, he wasn’t the bravest person on the ship.  

            “Long-range sensors have just picked up eleven ships, heading our way,” reported the Alpha tactical officer, Lt. Comm. Jackson.  

            “Halloway, tell the other ships to prepare for attack, pattern Tango-Alpha-6,” ordered Crane, never once taking his eyes off the viewscreen.   I promptly did so, and waited as the ships signaled their responses.  

            “The fleet is ready on your command, Captain,” I said.   

            “The Dominion fleet has just dropped out of warp,” reported Jackson.   Time seemed to stand still.   On the viewscreen, the fleet crept closer and closer.

            “Mr. Belia, prepare to engage the enemy on my mark.   3…2…1…mark!”   The Andorian nodded with his blue head, and punched the ship to full impulse.   I quickly relayed this to the other three ships, and the battle had begun.   All four Starfleet vessels flew from hiding and launched a full volley of weapons fire on the enemy.  

            “One Jem’Hadar fighter destroyed, two severely damaged, minimal damage to the rest,” reported Jackson.   The Renegade shuddered for a moment as the Dominion fleet fired.  

            “Evasive pattern Delta-2!” yelled Crane.   Our fleet flew in for different directions, causing the enemy to break into smaller groups to hunt us down.   “Halloway, tell the Odyssey and the Challenger to head towards the lead Dominion carrier vessel and target their weapons systems!”   I relayed the message, and the two ships did as they were told.  

            “They have disabled the lead ship’s weapons!” I yelled as one of the panels next to me exploded.   I shielded my eyes from the shower of sparks, and stayed at my post.   The ship shook again as three Jem’Hadar fighters began to fire upon us.  

            “Time for phase two, everyone,” called the captain.   The bridge crew nodded, and snapped into action.   I stood   “Montgomery, get down to the battle bridge and prepare for saucer separation.”   The first officer stood and headed for the turbolift.   Suddenly, the ship shook again, and the tactical panel exploded.   Jackson was knocked back, as was Montgomery.   The medic stationed on the bridge hurried over to the two officers, and waved a medical tricorder over both of them.   Crane turned his head and looked on.   “Status?” he asked the medic.

            “Jackson’s gone sir, and Montgomery will join him if I don’t get him to Sickbay.”   Crane nodded, and the medic activated the emergency transporter and beamed the three to Sickbay.  

            “Halloway, get down to the battle bridge.   Take command there,” ordered Crane.  

            “But the fleet…?” I started.  

            “Would you rather Yamato take control?”   I shook my head.   “I didn’t think so.   The fleet will be fine.   Now get your ass down there!”

            “Aye, sir!” I responded, running for the turbolift.   As the lift headed for its destination, my mind was racing.   The Beta shift had already happened that day, and they would be exhausted.   “Computer, send orders to Gamma bridge crew to report to the battle bridge immediately,” I said.   The computer beeped in reply, and not even a minute after I had arrived at my destination, they were all there.   Unfortunately, that included Yamato.   “Separate the ship,” I ordered, kicking Yamato out of my chair.  

            “Yes, sir!” responded Lucky as he quickly ran through the procedure.   Once the ship had separated, the saucer section moved away, and I was faced with ten Dominion vessels directly ahead.  

            “Kristina, make a path for Lucky to fly through,” I asked calmly.   The redheaded ensign grinned and released a volley of torpedoes.   Yamato approached me, a frown on his face.  

“Halloway, what do you think you’re doing?   You’re going to get us all killed with a move like that!”

“No I’m not.   Now go do something productive, and get the hell away from me!   And try to remember that it’s Lieutenant Commander Halloway.   You have a big problem with that.”   He hurried off, sulking.   Yamato was about as brave as his best friend Montgomery was.   Lucky pushed the ship into high impulse heading straight for the other fleet.   The ship (our half of it) shook as we took a few hits.   Just as we were about to hit the fighter closest to us, it exploded in a ball of fire.   Yamato ducked for cover as we passed right through the blaze, relatively unharmed.   Kristina let loose another weapons salvo, and another ship was destroyed.  

            “Eight ships left!” reported Sam from Ops.   “The saucer section’s shields are holding, the Challenger has a small hull breach, and the Odyssey’s lost warp drive.   The Truman is defending her, but she’s taking heavy damage in the process.”   My mind raced.   If only we had another ship, we could bring this fight to a close.   I suddenly had an idea.  

            “Sam, launch all the shuttles we have, rig their cores to blow, and have them haul ass towards that fleet,” I yelled as the engineering station blew apart.  

            “But why would you want to do that?” she asked.   I turned around and grinned.   She suddenly understood.   Her hands were a blur across the Ops panel.   I tapped my comm badge.

            “Halloway to T’Pac.”

            “T’Pac here, Lt. Commander.   It is agreeable to hear you back in command again,” came the Vulcan’s voice from Main Engineering.  

            “Thank you, T’Pac.   Get to the shuttle bay, and rig all five shuttle cores to overload.”

            “On my way.   T’Pac out.”  

            “You can’t do that, Halloway!   That’s willful destruction of Federation property!   I can’t allow this!” shouted Yamato as he charged across the battle bridge.   Boy, did he have delusions of granger.   I stood up and sidestepped his punch, then grabbed his collar and landed my fist in his face.   He went down like a sack of Klingon potatoes.  

            “That’s Lieutenant Commander Halloway, asshole,” I muttered to his unconscious body.   My comm badge beeped and I answered it as I was dragging Yamato out of the way.

“T’Pac to Halloway.   The cores are ready.”

“Thank you, T’Pac.   Good work.   Halloway out.”   Reclaiming my chair, I watched as the five shuttles made their way towards the Dominion fleet.   “Sam, direct three of those shuttles towards the lead carrier, and the other two towards those clusters of ships.   Kristina, I need you to watch over them, make sure they hit their targets.   Lucky,” I said with a grin.   “show Mr. Belia a few of your moves.”   He grinned, and sent the ship into an insane barrel roll, using the thrusters to increase our rotation speed.   Remarkably, Kristina was able to keep her bearings and keep the shuttles from being destroyed too soon.  

            “Shuttles One through Three just crossed through the carrier’s shields!” yelled Sam.  

            “Lucky, if you wouldn’t mind getting us to a safe distance…” I asked.   The ship made an immediate backflip and turn, changing our direction 180 degrees while the computer complained about exceeding structural integrity limits.   As the first three shuttles exploded, the lead carrier’s warp core blew, taking several nearby ships with it.

            “Only five ships remaining,” reported Sam with a hint of glee in her voice.   “Detonating Shuttles Four and Five.”   The remaining ships soon joined the rest of the convoy in oblivion as they exploded, sending parts of their hull spiraling in every direction.   The entire bridge erupted into cheers, and I stood and smiled as Lucky headed for the saucer section.   Sam ran to me and jumped in the air, wrapping her legs around me and gave me one of the most passionate kisses I had ever had in my life.   And believe me, I’ve had plenty.   Even Kristina gave Lucky a small pat on the cheek, we were so excited.   After the Renegade’s two halves rejoined, we all headed up to the bridge to check how our side fared in the battle.   As we exited the turbolift, Crane greeted us, a frown plastered on his face.  

            “Mr. Halloway, do you mind explaining what that was you just did there?” he asked, his eyes boring into my head.   I was shocked.   I thought that I had done well.   After all, we had saved the day.  

            “It was what I had to do to beat them, sir,” I finally replied.   Crane’s frown instantaneously changed into a grin.  

            “Excellent work, Lt. Commander Halloway.   Hell of a job.”   Then he started clapping.   The entire bridge crew joined in as we, the lowly Gamma shift bridge crew, and I, a new XO and leader of Beta shift, smiled and accepted our applause with dignity and grace.   All four Federation ships had survived, and there were only 7 fatalities.   We had done it.   The Dominion never tried again to occupy Sirrus V, and as we limped back to Starbase 57 for a much-deserved rest and repair, we felt a sense of pride.   In our own small way, we had won a victory over the Dominion.   Outgunned, outnumbered, we managed to pull through.   I still can’t believe it.   Lt. Yamato soon transferred, as did his buddy, Commander Montgomery, to postings back on Earth.   I guess they must have decided that the war was more than they bargained for.   Kristina and Lucky actually started dating soon after that, and Sam and I had one of those talks, and we both realized that we were better off as friends, but not before we had sex a couple of more times.   I became Crane’s first officer, and when the war ended, he was promoted to admiral (as I guessed he would be), and he promoted me to captain and gave me command of the USS Haymaker.   So there you have it.   That’s my story.   Hope you all enjoyed it.  

 

            As Halloway finished his tale and his drink, the crowd of captains around him were silent.   Feeling a bit confused, Halloway looked at Cap.   “Was that story not good enough?” he asked.

            “No, it was great, Bobby.   We were just wondering…um…”

            “We were wondering what that had to do with Crane’s daughter,” piped up Captain Stubing.   The rest of the captains nodded in agreement.  

            “Oh, that’s right.   I did mention here at the beginning, didn’t I?   Silly me.   The reason why Crane and I aren’t on the best of terms is that he caught his daughter in a rather compromising situation with a young officer.”

            “Who was the officer?” asked Stubing.   Halloway coughed and shifted uncomfortably on his stool.  

            “That would be me,” he admitted.   The captains all erupted into laughter, and soon, Halloway joined them.   “Yeah, I guess it wasn’t the brightest move ever.   I chalk it up to captain’s prerogative.”

            “Good excuse as any,” smiled Stubing.   Halloway chuckled and turned, raising his glass to Captain Crane, who was deep in a story of his own across the bar.  

            “To Captain Jack Crane, without whom, I would not be where I am today.   Literally.”

            “To Captain Crane,” echoed the others, clinking their glasses together and downing their respective drinks.   Now Halloway stood and smiled to his new friends.  

            “I’ll be seeing you around, Cap,” said Halloway as he shook the bartender’s hand.  

            “I’m sure of it.”   Giving a crisp salute to the rest of the captains assembled at the bar, Halloway turned and headed for the exit.   Before he left, he took one last look at Crane.   For a moment, Halloway actually regretted the distance that had grown between them.   Crane was a good man deep down, and it would do Halloway good to make peace with him.   Suddenly, his thoughts switched gears as the man that Crane had been in such deep conversation with for all this time laughed and looked off to the side for a moment.  

            “It can’t be…” stammered Halloway as he recognized the aged face he saw across the room.   Clad in a captain’s uniform not yet used by the Federation, Captain Blake Bannon chuckled and took a sip from his glass while continuing to listen to Crane speak.   Halloway shook his head rapidly and pushed open the door, as he rejoined the crowded street, leaving ‘The Captain’s Table’ and his past behind him.

 

THE END