Note: Paramount…Star Trek. Alan Decker…Star Traks. Cory Parker…Star Traks: Next Frontier. I really hope you see the pattern forming here. But for all you lawyers out there, who or what comes before owns what directly follows the ellipses. Example: Paramount owns Star Trek. Hope you law types can figure the rest out on your own.

Star Traks: Next Frontier

“Risk Factor”

By Cory Parker

“Captain’s log, stardate 53785.9. For the past two weeks, we have been parked outside the asteroid belt in the Tau Gamma Epsilon system, an uninhabited section of Sector 66-F. We’ve received word from our good buddy Admiral Crane that Starfleet Command; indeed, the Federation Council are very pleased with our work out here. Looks like we’ve managed to do more good than bad here. So far, at least.”

“You really don’t have to do this, you know,” said Mennol as he slid the black knight forward on the game board.

“I know, I know. It’s just that Sickbay can be so boring sometimes, with no injuries or mysterious illnesses running around,” answered Clinton as he moved his white rook to counter the black knight, taking Mennol’s piece out of the game.

“Chess with a Betazoid, you must be bored.” Mennol chuckled and grabbed his queen, and placed it down on the opposite side of the board, placing Clinton in check. The Betazoid smiled and leaned back. “So, any work from Halloway on what’s to be done with me?”

“He’s been talking with Crane about a great many things, you included, these past few days. You’re cooperation is being taken into account.”

“Glad to hear it. You going to move anytime soon, or shall I move for you?” Clinton shook his head and slid a bishop between his king and Mennol’s queen.

“Monty’s started a pool on what going to happen to you. Odds are you’ll be transported to a Federation penal colony for a little while, then released.”

“Oh, wonderful.”

“I put down two strips of gold-pressed latinum on you being released before the year is out.”

“Glad to know someone has faith in me.” Mennol chuckled, capturing Clinton’s bishop and returning the game to check. “Next time you see Monty, tell him to put me down for a strip on my immediate release. I’m good for it.” Clinton smiled and the two continued their game within the walls of the brig.

“So, now we come to Sector 66-F mission #17,” said Admiral Crane on the monitor as Captain Halloway sighed and rubbed his forehead. He was sitting in his ready room, as he had been for the past six hours, talking with Crane on a number of different topics. Today, Crane wanted to review a number of missions the Haymaker had undertaken since their arrival to Sector 66-F. Since he DID happen to outrank Halloway, Bobby had to sit and answer his questions. All of his questions. “So, what exactly occurred when you ordered a retreat? The report’s not quite clear on that.”

“Well, I ordered the retreat from the area, seeing as the small Jyinion fleet was more than a match for us. We hid in the star’s corona, and emerged and took them out one at a time. Some of Cimorene’s people showed up soon after, and reclaimed their ships and took the prisoners away to Jyinus Prime for a trial. It was a small skirmish, nothing to be worried about. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get myself some dinner while we finish up.” Crane sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“Of course, Captain.” Halloway smiled and headed over to the replicator. He tapped in his choice.

“How’s your daughter doing, Admiral?”

“She’s fine, now that you’re nowhere near her. Thanks for asking,” he added, clearly not pleased with the topic at hand. Halloway just grinned and grabbed his plate and sat back down in his chair.

“Did she apply to the Academy this fall?”

“Yes, she did. She’s in the middle of her first semester right now.”

“Has she chosen a specialty yet?” he asked as he chewed his food thoughtfully.

“She wants to go into command school, actually,” answered Crane, as he beamed with paternal pride.

“That’s good to hear. You’ll have to watch her, though. The boys in command school today are a lot worse than I ever…”

“HALLOWAY!” yelled Crane.

“Just trying to help,” muttered Halloway as he continued eating. “Any news about what’s happening with Mennol’s case?” he asked, changing the subject.

“It’s a tricky situation. Since he renounced his Federation citizenship four years ago, we can’t charge him with anything except assault on Federation property and personnel, and that wasn’t really his fault. So, the powers that be are currently discussing it. But just between you and me, I think that you’ll be allowed to decide what happens to him. The JAG isn’t fond of taking trips outside of Fed space. Something to do with that assassination attempt last year.”

“Oh, wonderful. I get all the fun jobs, don’t I?” said Halloway with a sly smile. Crane didn’t catch on.

“Now, back to the retreat…” Suddenly, the transmission began to blink in and out.

“Halloway to Halvox. What’s happening to the subspace channel that Crane’s on?” he asked as he tapped his comm badge.

“I’m figuring that out as we speak, Captain. Leave me alone and let me work, dammit!” she replied.

“Okay, okay. Just let me know when you have it fixed.”

“Actually, I think I can clear it up…uh oh.” Halloway stood when he heard the last two words.

“What do you mean, ‘uh oh’?”

“The transmission is being jammed?”

“By who?”

“Probably by the two Romulan warbirds that just decloaked directly in front of us,” answered Halvox as the ship shook violently. Halloway stumbled out his ready room door and headed for his chair.

“Where the hell did they come from?” he asked as he fell into his chair. The ship rocked again as the red alert klaxon wailed.

“I dunno,” answered LaCroix as she checked her hair and tossed down her issue of ‘Cosmopolitan’ on the floor. “Benn, do your thing. Halvox, try hailing the bastards that interrupted my quiz.”

“Is that the ‘Sex IQ’ test you were taking?” asked Benn, turning around and facing LaCroix.

“Actually, it’s the ‘Are You Maximizing Your Sex Potential?’ quiz from last month’s issue.”

“Cool,” said Benn as she turned back to what she was doing. The Haymaker dove into the asteroids and nimbly flew through the dense field in an effort to hide from the warbirds.

“They’re following us in, Captain,” reported Gabriel as he studied the sensor readings. “Still no response from hails.”

“Dammit. Halvox, let me on the horn.”

“Anytime you’re ready.” Halloway put on his sternest face and faced the viewscreen.

“This is Captain Halloway of the Federation starship Haymaker, to the two unidentified Romulan warbirds firing on us. I demand that you stop all hostilities now!” Halloway’s answer came in the form of another weapons barrage. “Fine, have it your way. Gabriel, give them hell.” The tactical officer grinned and unleashed a phaser barrage on the closest warbird while Benn continued her skillful piloting through the field, narrowly missing a few of the big ones by seconds.

“Shields on the closest ship down to 45%, second ship down to 80%. We’re down to 15%.”

“Thanks for all the good news, Gabriel. Benn, once we clear the field, set a course to the nearest friendly outpost,” ordered Halloway.

“We could make it to our old D’Narin friends at Colony 2-Beta.”

“Do it.”

“It’ll take a little while, though.”

“Lieutenant…” responded Halloway with a glare. The Trill threw her hands up in mock surrender, then plotted a course out of the field. As the Haymaker emerged, the warbirds descended on them, weapons ablaze.

“We’ve lost shields!” yelled Gabriel as the engineering panel exploded a few feet away.

“Hitting warp six now!” reported Benn as she sent the ship hurling away from their attackers.

“We haven’t lost them,” stated Gabriel. “They’re gaining on us, warp factor eight. Weapons range in twenty seconds.” Halloway scratched his head and looked at LaCroix.

“Suggestions, Commander?”

“Well, we could wait until they are right on top of us, slam on the brakes, and glide underneath them to normal space. Might blow out the inertial dampers, but hey, it’ll be one hell of a ride.”

“Good thinking. Miss Benn, whenever you think is right, implement the commander’s plan.” Benn smiled joyfully.

“Cool.” Halloway grabbed on to his chair with one hand while tapping his communicator with the other.

“All hands, this is the captain. We’re about to do something really stupid, so everybody hold on to something. Halloway out.”

“Very eloquently put, sir,” said LaCroix.

“Shut up,” responded Halloway as he closed his eyes tightly. Benn grinned sadistically and slammed on the brakes, suddenly bringing the ship out of warp. The Haymaker shook as the stress began to cause microfractures to tear into the hull. On the bridge, sparks flew from consoles and gas hissed from a ruptured conduit in the ceiling. After the shaking had stopped, Halloway opened one eye, then the other to survey the damage.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” asked LaCroix rhetorically.

“We have no shields, the photon tubes are out, and the warbirds are turning around,” reported Gabriel from his station. “Not bad at all.”

“Bannon, where can we hide?” asked Halloway.

“Huh? Oh, where can we hide?” said Bannon as he came back to reality. “Um, let me see…there’s a gas giant in this system that have 23 moons around it, the largest of which has an atmosphere that should cloud their sensors.”

“Should?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so.”

“It’ll have to do. Jenna, get us there.” The Trill nodded and the Haymaker was soon in the lower atmosphere of the moon. Halloway let out a sigh and began to stand up. “Okay, people, we have a lot of work to do. First things first, I want our shields back up…” Halloway was interrupted by a blast of phaser fire that rocked the ship. “What the hell?” Bannon checked his science console and realized his mistake.

“Oops, wrong moon. My bad.”

“The warbirds just hit the engine core, we are going down,” reported Halvox. “Way to go, Bannon.”

“Jenna, level our decent, please,” said LaCroix as Halloway found his seat again.

“Um, okay.”

“You don’t sound too sure of yourself.”

“That’s because I’m not. Hold on.” As Jenna’s hands danced over the conn console, trying to level the ship’s decent, the Haymaker herself continued her frantic dive for the surface of the large moon. As it passed through the cloud cover, a large mountain range came into view. The bridge crew screamed as Benn barely cleared the nearest peak. She turned around and smiled. “Well, they don’t come much closer than that.”

“LOOK OUT!” yelled the rest of the crew as another peak appeared directly in the Haymaker’s path. Benn turned back to the conn and tried to dodge out of the way. The tip of the peak scraped the bottom of the hull, causing the ship to tip to one side and dive into the valley on the other side of the mountain range. Just before the ship crashed into the forest below, Halloway rubbed his forehead and sighed.

“Oh, crap.”

Down in the brig, Mennol rubbed his head and slowly stood. The room stood aglow in red emergency lights, and the forcefield appeared to be deactivated. Mennol looked around to see if anyone was looking, then stuck his hands in his pockets and stepped outside the cell that had held him for the better part of a year. The Betazoid smiled to himself and headed for the door. Finding that it didn’t open right away, he sighed and tapped the manual release. The door complied, and Mennol poked his head out into the corridor. It was at this time when he noticed the floor was pitched downward. It was slight, but it was definitely there. “What the hell is going on around here?” he asked himself as he checked the nearest computer terminal. Unfortunately, the database had been encrypted, so he didn’t get much out of that. “Computer, activate EEH at this location.” The computer beeped and after a moment’s time, Monty shimmered into existence.

“…and the guy turns to his wife and says, ‘Honey, he’s eating all the popcorn!’. Get it?” said the hologram before figuring out where he was. “Mennol? Why are you out of your cell?”

“The power’s off in there, and I don’t know why. I just remember the ship shaking, Halloway saying something about doing something stupid, then I hit my head. I think.” Monty proceeded to fill Mennol in to what else occurred, up to the point at which he was deactivated. “Well, that’s quite the little adventure we had, now isn’t it? Did Halloway ever figure out what the hell the Romulans were doing here in Sector 66-F?”

“Nope.”

“Do you know why the computer is encrypted?”

“Nope.”

“Do you know where everybody is?”

“Nope.”

“Well, what the hell DO you know!?!” yelled Mennol.

“I know that you had better calm down, or else I smell an ass-whoopin’ coming,” responded Monty. “Now give me a minute to access internal sensors.”

“You can do that?”

“You bet you boots I can. In fact, I’m doing it right now…uh oh.”

“What’s uh-oh?”

“Well, it appears that the Romulans beamed aboard after we crashed, and have taken the rest of the crew hostage aboard their lead vessel, leaving a few of their own to fix the Haymaker and tow it back to Romulan space.”

“Oh, great.” Monty smiled and placed his hand on Mennol’s shoulder.

“So, guess what we get to do?”

“I would read your mind, but since you’re a hologram, you might as well tell me.”

“We get to reclaim the Haymaker, fix it up, and rescue the crew.” Mennol frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Hooray.”

On board the Romulan warbird ‘Terinax’, Halloway rubbed his jaw and winced in pain while Clinton looked him over. “Are you okay, Captain?” asked LaCroix.

“Does it look like I’m okay, Rachel??? The Romulan’s kicked the sh*t out of me!” he responded with a glare.

“Jeez, I was just asking…” she mumbled, turning away.

“What did they want?” asked Benn, who was sitting Bannon on the only bed in the room.

“They wanted info on the current state of the Jyinion Assembly. My guess is that the Romulan Empire wants to annex the entire sector.”

“But Jyinion space isn’t even bordering Romulan space! It’s not even on the same side of the Federation!”

“Tell me about it. The Romulans have been pretty buddy-buddy with everybody else since the war ended, so I’m not surprised that they would try something like this.” He looked around the room as Clinton helped him to the bed. “Where’s Gabriel?”

“They took him about 10 minutes ago,” responded LaCroix. “God knows what they’re doing to him.”

“I don’t want to interrogate him! You do it!”

“Are you nuts? Look at him! He’s huge! He looks like he could pick the both of us up by our pointy ears and crush our skulls with one claw!”

“Well, I’m not getting near him.”

“Neither am I.” Gabriel smiled in amusement as the two Romulan interrogators continued to argue across the room. His hearing was quite acute, and even though they confiscated his universal translator, his Romulan was decent enough to figure out what they were so worried about. The door to the interrogation chamber opened, and in stepped an older Romulan female, wearing a centurion’s uniform, and not looking very pleased at the moment.

“What is the problem here, Lieutenants?” she asked coldly.

“Well, Centurion, Jenix here doesn’t want to interrogate the prisoner,” started one.

“That’s not true, Centurion! It was Telar here that was too cowardly to approach the captive!” The Centurion raised her hand and let out a deep sigh.

“I will do this one myself,” she said, and started walking over to Gabriel.

“I am Centurion B’Len, and you are on the Romulan warbird Terinax, and you are my prisoner. Please, save us all some time and effort by not feigning heroism. Your captain tried that, and when you return to the cell, you’ll see where that got him.” Gabriel just stared blankly at the Romulan, not moving a muscle. “Did you not hear me?” she asked, leaning into his face. “Heroism gets you nowhere.” Before she knew what was happening, Gabriel had broken through his metal restraints, grabbed the centurion by the throat, and leapt to his feet, the claws of his other hand ready to rip into her flesh. The two lieutenants across the room drew their disruptors and aimed them at the security chief, their hands shaking as Gabriel made his way slowly for the exit. Gabriel bared his fangs and pressed his head next to B’Len’s.

“On the contrary, my dear Centurion, heroism gets me anywhere I want to. Tell your two officers to back off,” he growled into her pointed ear. He sniffed for a moment, then added “You smell nice.”

“Thanks. Back off,” she ordered. The two lieutenants slowly lowered their guns and allowed Gabriel and B’Len to pass. As soon as he stepped into the corridor, twenty armed guards surrounded them, weapons all drawn. B’Len smiled. “You really didn’t believe you’d escape, did you?”

“Not really, but it was worth a try.”

“Willing to go back in there, or will you have to be shot?”

“You really think that a disrupter blast would hurt me? Romulan Intelligence is getting sloppy.”

“How about twenty blasters?” Gabriel thought for a moment.

“Good point.”

“Well, that takes care of Romulan intruders numbers 14, 15, and 16,” said Monty, standing over the three unconscious officers with a grin on his face and a large phase inducer in his hand.

“Great. That only leaves 23 more to go.,” muttered Mennol as he transported them to the brig. The Romulans had restored the ship’s power grid, and so the forcefields in Mennol’s former home were back up again. “Are you sure you rerouted internal sensors correctly to hide the transports?”

“Positive. I know this ship like I know my own holographic matrix.” The red alert klaxon suddenly started to ring. Mennol glared at Monty, who just shrugged. “Or maybe not.”

“Wonderful. They detected that last transport, and are sending soldiers to this location to investigate.” Monty looked at the computer screen in the wall and started rapidly pressing buttons.

“Huh. Ten Romulans just exited the turbolift down the way fifty meters from us, fully armed.”

“So, what do we do?” Monty rubbed his chin and thought for a moment.

“I’m going to try something. Good luck.”

“With what?” asked Mennol. He soon found out when Monty waved and disappeared. The Betazoid cursed under his breath and dashed down the corridor away from the Romulans. Scanning their minds, he found out what their positions were, and ducked into the nearest Jefferys tube. As he scrambled down the tube, his mind raced with what he was going to do with Monty once he found him. A disrupter blast flew past his head, drawing Mennol out of his thoughts. He turned his head to see two Romulans following behind him in the tube, barely a hundred meters away. He scowled and kept his pace until he got to the nearest junction. Once there, Mennol closed the tube off and engaged the lock, sealing the Romulans in for the time being. “Mennol to Monty, what the hell are you doing?” he asked, slapping his communicator in frustration.

“Taking care of our problem,” responded the hologram as he materialized beside the Betazoid.

“Will you knock that off? It scares the crap out of me!”

“Sorry.”

“What did you do, anyway?” Monty just grinned and opened the sealed hatch, revealing a Romulan-free tube.

“I transported them 5 kilometers away, minus their lovely weapons. Wouldn’t want them to come barging in again, now would we?” Mennol smiled and patted the hologram on the back.

“Monty, when was the last time I told you how wonderful you are?”

“Hmm, let’s see…I believe never.”

“Then let’s not set a precedent then, shall we?” Monty returned the grin and the two headed for Main Engineering.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” asked B’Len, as she remained a captive of Gabriel, who had been standing in the middle of the corridor for the last three hours, not moving a millimeter, all twenty of the Romulans still present and weapons drawn.

“My mother used to tell me that patience is a virtue. Far be it for me to disagree with my mother.”

“How quaint,” sighed the centurion.

“I certainly think so.” There was a murmur in the crowd of Romulans that surrounded them, and as a familiar face appeared from within the enemy, Gabriel chuckled softly. “Your subordinates must be impatient.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because they wouldn’t have rousted me if they could handle my chief of security,” answered Halloway, standing tall, guards on both sides, his hands cuffed. “How are you doing, Gabriel?”

“Just peachy, sir.”

“Glad to hear it. Any chance of letting Centurion B’Len go anytime soon?”

“Not really.”

“Well, at least you’re honest.” Turning to one of his guards, he held his cuffed hands in front of him, outstretched. “I’m ready to go back now.”

“What? You didn’t even try!” protested B’Len, who was finally starting to lose her cool.

“Sure I did. He isn’t ready to give you up yet, so who am I to argue with that?”

“You are his captain!”

“Yeah, well, whatever. I have an aching jaw to take care of. Have fun, Lieutenant.”

“As always, sir. I’m going for the record.”

“What, a week straight without sleep?” Gabriel nodded, electing a grin from Halloway. “See you in a week, then.”

“So, what does this do again?” asked Mennol as he pointed to the weapons panel at the bridge tactical station, with Monty standing right beside him.

“That launches a spread of torpedoes.”

“And this one?” he asked, pointing to a similar looking control.

“Reroutes power to the shields.”

“And what about this?”

“That orders coffee from the little replicator nestled behind you, below the Tactical Analysis board.”

“Wow, Starfleet thinks of everything. So, are we ready to go?” Monty held up a finger and strode down to the conn, sliding into the seat with a smile.

“We are now.” As the hologram’s hands whipped across the flight controls, the Haymaker bucked and suddenly flew upward towards space, performing three barrel rolls and a two loops before clearing the atmosphere. As the ship leveled out, Mennol released the death grip he had on the tactical panel.

“Have you ever driven this thing before?”

“No.”

“Well, this should be entertaining.”

“Well, that was certainly entertaining,” responded Halvox sarcastically as Halloway finished relating the tale of his first trip into space when he was five. The rest of the senior staff was bored out of their minds, sitting in the cramped holding cell.

“Look, I was just trying to pass the time, okay?” said Halloway with a frown. He stood and rubbed his jaw. Gabriel was still gone, probably still standing in the corridor, surrounded by Romulan guards.

“I liked it,” said Bannon, sitting in the corner of the cell, a small smile on his face.

“Why, thank you, Bannon. At least somebody hear appreciates me.”

“No, I was actually referring to Jenna’s back rubs, they are amazing,” corrected Bannon as Benn’s head popped into view behind the ensign. Halloway rolled his eyes and looked through the forcefield that was holding the senior staff hostage.

“My, isn’t this familiar…” sighed the captain as his mind wandered back to his first mission in command of the Haymaker, almost a year ago. He and the rest of the senior crew had been trapped in his own brig, and Clinton and LaCroix had tricked the guard into letting them out. “Rachel, remember our first mission together, when Orion pirates took over the ship?” he asked, a sly grin growing on his face.

“You mean when I pretended to be injured and then the good doctor over there stabbed me with my hairpin?” responded the first officer, her glare focused solely on Clinton. Scott coughed and looked away.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

“Well, it’s worth a shot, Captain.” LaCroix then turned towards the door and began to whine and yell, grasping her side. The Romulan guard walked calmly towards the door, deactivated it, raised his disruptor and fired, hitting LaCroix squarely in the chest. She flew backwards, and as the senior staff huddled around her, the guard reactivated the forcefield and walked away as calmly as he came.

“That didn’t go as well as I’d hoped,” muttered Halloway as he helped Clinton carry the unconscious commander to the cell’s only bed.

Back in the corridor, Gabriel watched in amusement as the guards began to become tired and lax, their disrupters shaky and their brains clouded with sleep. “How long do you plan to keep this little charade going, Gabriel?” asked a very perturbed B’Len. Suddenly, the deck heaved and half the guards stumbled to the floor. Gabriel grinned a toothy smile and looked at the centurion.

“Until that happened.”

“T’Lax to Bridge! What’s going on up there?” demanded one of the guards as he accessed a computer panel on the wall.

“We’re being attacked by a Federation starship! And whoever is piloting her is insane!” responded the terrified-sounding Romulan on the bridge.

“What ship is it?”

“It’s…I can’t believe…it’s the Haymaker, sir!” Gabriel’s smile widened even more, and he suddenly made a dash for the exit, bringing B’Len with him. The female Romulan gasped as she was literally dragged through the corridors of her own ship, with Gabriel pushing anything and everything that got in his way aside. Before she knew it, they were at the brig. Gabriel made quick work of the guard, and threw B’Len into a cell adjourning the Haymaker crew, and activated her forcefield while dropping the one holding his crewmates.

“Thanks for the escape, Gabriel,” smiled Halloway as he shook the security officer’s claw.

“That’s my job for ya,” responded Gabriel as the ship shook again.

“What the hell is that?” asked Halvox with a scowl, stripping the unconscious guard of his weapons.

“The Haymaker. Looks like somebody came looking for us. Does she need help?” inquired Gabriel as he pointed to LaCroix, still knocked out in the cell.

“Yeah. Be a chap and carry her, will you?” Gabriel nodded and went to fetch the commander. “There’s a good fellow. Now, how many weapons do we have?” Kerry waved the two disrupters up she had stolen up in the air. “That’s all? Well, we’ll just have to hope for a miracle, don’t we?” At that very moment, the entire senior staff dematerialized and reappeared on the bridge of the Haymaker.

“Welcome home, ladies and gents. The rest of the crew are on their way over as we speak,” stated Monty with a large grin plastered across his face.

“Thanks, Monty. We wouldn’t have gotten out of there if it wasn’t for…Mennol?” said Halloway as he noticed the presence of the Betazoid, standing beside the hologram.

“Nice to see you two, Captain,” he deadpanned.

“Who let you out?” Monty coughed and rolled his eyes.

“Uh, well, when we crashed, we lost power to the brig and he got out. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have been activated and you all wouldn’t be here.” Halloway looked at the hologram, then at Mennol and smiled. Reading his mind, Mennol smiled back.

“Hell of a job, Mennol. My crew and I thank you,” said Halloway, extending his hand. Mennol grabbed it and shook it firmly. The moment of sincere thanks was soon interrupted by the Haymaker bucking wildly as a result of Romulan disrupter fire. The senior staff instantly arrived at their posts, each fully attuned to what was happening.

“Gabriel, fire at will,” ordered Halloway. “Gabriel?” Monty coughed again nervously.

“I beamed him, LaCroix and Clinton to Sickbay. Since the turbolifts aren’t working, I expect that it’ll take him a moment to get back up here.”

“I’ve got it,” yelled Mennol, taking back his place at Tactical. “Firing at will, Captain.”

“Jeez, he’s on the ball,” muttered Lt. Benn as she drove the ship into a tight corkscrew, narrowly dodging a barrage of plasma torpedoes from the Terinax. Phaser fire arched from the Haymaker, striking a line across the warbird’s hull. One of the warp nacelles burst into flames, partially detaching itself from the rest of the hull.

“Surprise, surprise,” said Halvox with an evil grin on her face. Guess who wants to talk?”

“Put her on screen,” ordered Halloway, reeling in the small moment of triumph.

“Damn you, Halloway!” screamed B’Len, her face dirty and her hair disheveled.

“You’re not looking too hot, Centurion. Perhaps is might have something to do with the fact that we…oh, I don’t know…kicked your ass?” A broad smile crossed the face of everyone on the bridge. Halloway leaned forward and continued his gloating. “You might consider packing your bags and getting the hell out of the sector, because the next time I see any Romulans in this neck of the woods, I won’t be so nice, understand?” B’Len scowled and gritted her teeth. Behind her, panels were sparking and gas was hissing.

“Fine, we’re going. But remember this, Halloway. We Romulans have a very long memory, and if you think…” The transmission ceased, replaced by the view of the wounded warbird limping away.

“Sorry,” said Mennol after a moment. “I was busy reading her mind, and believe me, she would have gone on for hours. Or at least the next five minutes.” Halloway smiled and turned to Benn.

“Lieutenant, get us out of here. I need a break.” The Trill smiled and the Haymaker leapt into warp.

‘Don’t we all…’ thought Mennol as the stars streaked by on the viewscreen.

“Enter.” As he entered the captain’s ready room, escorted by Gabriel and another security guard, Mennol looked at Halloway blankly while he casually scanned his mind. ‘Knock it off, Mennol,’ thought Halloway as he glared at the Betazoid.

‘Sorry. Force of habit,’ thought back Mennol, holding his hands up in apology.

“Mennol, when we first arrived, you were our enemy. We captured you, and you have been spending you time in our brig, awaiting trial for crimes against the Federation. However, you have proven yourself time and again, especially in the past few days, to be a capable ally as well. You’ve been in this sector a lot longer than I hope to be, and your skills are better put to use outside the confines of a forcefield. Therefore, it is my decision as captain to release you, present you with a pardon of you past crimes, and grant you the honorary title of Ambassador. You will remain on board this vessel, serving it as you have so wonderfully in the past.” Mennol smiled as Halloway reached forward to shake his hand.

“Thank you, Captain. I’ll try my best,” he responded as he shook Halloway’s hand vigorously.

“You’d better,” answered Halloway with a grin. “Or else I hand you over to Gabriel.” Gabriel placed his claw on Mennol’s shoulder, whose smile had disappeared. Halloway’s smile remained as he took a seat at his desk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Ambassador, I have a sh*tload of paperwork to do. Good day.” Gabriel nudged Mennol, and they headed for the door.

‘Gee, thanks a million…’ came the sarcastic voice of Mennol in Bobby’s head. He just smiled and continued with his paperwork.

‘Anytime, buddy. Anytime at all…’

THE END