The two players bowed slightly to each other and the match continued. Numerous feints and jabs were met with ducks and parries from both sides. Finally, in a flurry of motion, Freeman caught O'Shea's weapon in a disarming stroke, sending it flying across the court. He then poked his Tactical Officer in the sternum and smiled as the court rang up a point in his favor.
"Nice move, Captain," O'Shea commented as he went to retrieve his weapon.
Freeman merely nodded in thanks as the two prepared to square off again. Instead of a direct charge, the two circled each other, throwing a quick jab here and there, probing for a vulnerability. After a few moments, O'Shea tired of that tactic and attacked. Freeman parried two quick jabs by O'Shea and took a step to the side, catching O'Shea in the side with a backhanded strike and knocking him over. Just as Freeman was about to score a point with a finishing thrust, O'Shea rolled out of the way and to his feet.
The eyes of the two men locked as they once again began to circle about each other, looking for an advantage. O'Shea finally saw an opportunity as he faked to Freeman's right, and swung around to his left, catching the captain off guard and scoring the winning point of the match. Cheers went up from amidst a section of the audience.
Freeman sighed and smiled grimly. "Good match, Lieutenant," Freeman said, patting his reserve Tactical Officer on the back as the two exited the arena.
"Thank you sir. You're a scrappy competitor. I'm at your disposal for a rematch," O'Shea replied.
"We'll see," Freeman replied with a sly expression.
The two officers got cleaned up after their match and went their separate ways. Freeman took his time meandering around the base as he made his way to the quarters of the base's Commodore for dinner. The passersby were largely Starfleet personnel and their support staff, though there was the occasional Ferengi or Tellarite merchant. The station was relatively new, its construction being fairly recent as these things go, and it still had that feeling of not having been broken in. Everything was polished and clean and everything worked. 'Give it another year, or a good battle,' Freeman thought to himself as he rounded a corner and proceeded to his destination down the corridor.
After passing a few doors, he spied the one he was looking for and pressed the door buzzer. The doors opened and he stepped in.
"Hello Captain," a stocky gray-haired Human male, with somewhat of the beginnings of a large belly, greeted Freeman eagerly. "Your First Officer has already arrived and is in the other room. Your timing is perfect. Come in!"
"Thank you Commodore McCovey," Captain Freeman replied, smiling and shaking the hand offered to him in greeting. He followed the older man into an adjoining area; Cecilia Yilaan was in her dress uniform and was seated at a table. Next to her was an older woman, appearing to be roughly the same age as McCovey. "Commodore, I must apologize; I didn't realize this was a formal meeting," Freeman said, referring to his own casual attire in comparison with that of Yilaan's.
McCovey smiled and shook his head. "No apology necessary Captain; this evening is most certainly informal. Your First Officer was in a meeting directly before this, hence her attire." He then turned to the older woman who he had moved to sit next to, "Captain, I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Mara."
Mara reached out with a slender hand to greet Freeman, "Captain, it is a pleasure. I've heard good things about you."
Freeman smiled warmly and clasped her hand briefly before taking his seat, "The pleasure is mine, madam. And since this is to be an informal dinner, please call me Mark."
As dishes were passed around and the meal began, Commodore McCovey made small talk about the area and how little had gone on since he was given this assignment the year before. "In away, things have been almost too quiet; I'd have expected something, anything, out of the ordinary to have happened. In some respects this is harder than if we were in a war zone; I'm constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. At least somewhere like Starbase 57, on the border with Cardassia, you knew what you were up against."
"What about that time a few months ago where those manifolds ruptured and threatened to irradiate the whole station?" Mara reminded her husband.
Commodore McCovey merely shook his head, "A minor equipment oddity hardly qualifies as something 'out of the ordinary.'"
His wife patted him on the arm and smiled. "My poor Adam," she said, looking into his eyes for a moment before turning to her guests. "My husband and I differ on the relative comfort of quiet," she explained. "After 38 years of service, you'd think he would enjoy an assignment where he didn't have to watch his back at every turn, but that's simply not the case."
"Why not put in for a transfer?" Freeman asked good-naturedly in between bites of pot roast. "I'm sure you could have your pick of assignments sir."
"Well, as it happens, I've done just that. However, I don't like leaving a post without being sure that someone responsible will take my place," McCovey replied with a sidelong glance at Yilaan, who in turn shifted abruptly in her chair. Freeman took note of the wordless exchange but said nothing about it. "Mark, why don't you regale us with some of your adventures? Your ship's been through quite a bit in the last few years."
"I'd be happy to," Mark replied. Captain Freeman then spoke of many of the Bristol's adventures; the fight with the Gorn, finding a planet of immortals, their minor role in the Borg incident at Wolf 359, and so on. Yilaan added a tale about her time travelling adventure which McCovey found particularly entertaining.
As this went on, dinner gave way to dessert and then after-dinner refreshment. Soon the stories wound to a close, as did the evening. "Thank you kindly for joining me this evening," McCovey told the two Bristol officers as they made their way to the door. "Your stories were immensely entertaining; I miss my days aboard a starship to be sure."
"Our pleasure Commodore; thank you for the evening," Freeman replied. The four exchanged final good-night wishes and Yilaan and Freeman left McCovey's quarters.
"Well, good night to you Captain," Yilaan said quickly once the doors to Commodore McCovey's quarters had closed behind them, and they were alone. She began to walk rapidly off; Freeman jogged up to her and put his hand on her shoulder.
"Cecilia wait, please," he said.
"Sir?" she replied, turning apprehensively about to face him.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell you what Captain?" she responded evasively.
"You've been offered this post haven't you?" Freeman asked, though his tone was more accusatory than inquisitive.
Yilaan sighed, "I was going to tell you, Mark, but I wanted to make up my mind whether or not to take it first."
"Why is that?"
The brown-haired Commander considered the question for a moment as a couple of Starfleet officers brushed past Captain Freeman and her in the corridor. "I guess because decisions like this are sometimes easier if you don't have dozens of people giving you their input."
"That's certainly true enough," Freeman replied with a shrug. "I guess I'd thought that I'd earned an ear, that's all," he continued awkwardly.
"Of course you have; that's why I was going to tell you first," she replied sardonically. "Good night Captain." Yilaan then strolled off down the hallway towards her guest room while the captain looked on.
Freeman slept fitfully that night and he couldn't be sure why. One thing was for certain; he had grown used to sleeping in his quarters on board the Bristol and strange environments have a tendency to lead to uncomfortable rest. As for the other business; he firmly reminded himself that Yilaan was an officer just like any other and could be replaced; besides, he'd had friends transfer before, and this was no different. Perhaps it was the suddenness of it; unlike Commodore McCovey, he wasn't a big fan of surprises. Not to mention there was a certain professional jealousy; she was merely a Commander and had been offered a potentially lucrative position in command of a Starbase along the new frontier. He had not even been considered for the post so far as he knew; not that he would've taken it anyway. No doubt her stock had been increased dramatically after the little adventure on Starbase 39 awhile back.
As a few days worth of repairs, reports, and other mundane activity dragged on, only occasionally interrupted with entertaining diversion, Freeman began to notice what McCovey had meant by 'nothing ever happens on the station.' With some Starbases, you had a night life, a greater mixture of people from both Federation and elsewhere. Here it was largely Starfleet personnel; and when he added in the fact that the place was still so 'new' feeling, it made him feel like he was in a laboratory, or back at the Academy. He didn't much care for it and looked forward to the Bristol's upcoming departure.
Nights, unfortunately, were a different story; when he tried to sleep, Freeman's mind would race furiously, keeping him from a sound rest. After the fifth night of this, he'd vowed to go see one of the station's medical personnel, or Doctor Giovanni, first thing in the morning. As it was on that fifth night, he'd opted to not lay there and toss and turn the whole evening; he'd eventually gotten up out of bed and started to do some work. It was this that allowed him to be both dressed and alert when the station's klaxon suddenly sounded at three thirty that morning.
"McCovey to Freeman," a tired voice called over the intercom just moments after the alert sounded. "Please come up to Ops at once."
"Be right there," Freeman replied and swiftly made his way to Ops. Upon arrival he noted that, aside from the graveyard shift duty personnel, he was the only officer present not in his or her pajamas. "I guess I just can't ever dress right for the occasion," he said jocularly, referring to the dinner a few nights ago.
McCovey reciprocated his jest with a stern expression. "This may sour your early morning joviality Captain," the commodore said, pointing at the viewscreen. The image was that of the station's docking bay. There appeared to be a ship moving, exiting the bay; it was Freeman's own ship, the Bristol.
"What the devil is going on?" Freeman growled.
"Someone is stealing the Bristol, Captain. They also somehow got access to the station's key codes for the bay doors; as you can see the ship is just about clear," McCovey noted.
"Yilaan are the repair and refit crews still aboard?" Freeman asked the sleepy First Officer.
"As far as I know," she replied.
Freeman irritably pressed his comm-badge, "Freeman to Lieutenant Tomlinson, come in. Come in!" He paused for all of a split second before continuing, his voice raising to a shout, "Captain Freeman to anyone aboard the Bristol, come in!"
"We've already tried to hail them, but there's been no answer," bemoaned the commodore. "However, we have the Runabout 'Krakow' in a position to keep the ship from leaving; unless the Bristol plans to ram the Krakow, they won't be going anywhere."
The assembled officers watched and waited anxiously as the doors slowly opened and the Bristol started to leave the Starbase. "Commodore, sensors are showing no life forms aboard the ship," a young Lieutenant at the Tactical Station of Ops reported. Freeman and McCovey looked about in alarm.
"No life forms? How is that possible?" McCovey asked rhetorically. "Lieutenant, do your sensors show any outside signals being received by either this station or the Bristol that could cause this theft to be occurring via remote control?"
The officer's fingers danced across the controls of his station before he looked up at Commodore McCovey. "No sir, although I am picking up strange electromagnetic patterns aboard the Bristol itself."
"Any idea what that could be, Captain?" McCovey asked.
Freeman shook his head, "Let me have a look at those readings, Lieutenant." The Lieutenant stepped aside from his post as Freeman approached and looked over the station's read-outs. "Commodore, I've seen these a couple of times, though never this strong; they've occasionally accompanied the computer glitches we've been having recently, the ones I detailed in my message to you before our arrival."
"Could there really not be anyone aboard? Could this be some sort of computer error?" Yilaan asked.
"Computer, this is Commodore McCovey," he said, addressing the Starbase's main computer system. "Give me the location of the Starbase repair crew assigned to the Bristol."
"The repair crew is not aboard the station," the computer replied.
"Commodore look," the lieutenant at Tactical pointed. "The Bristol is stopping."
"Excellent, Lieutenant Gray," McCovey replied. "Tell the tractor beam crew to guide the ship back into...." the commodore began, before being interrupted.
"Commodore, its shields are going up and weapons are charging!" Gray reported suddenly.
"What?!" McCovey asked incredulously. "Raise the station's shields and arm phasers twelve through twenty-seven," he managed to order before the Bristol opened fire on the Runabout. Several quick blasts disabled the craft, causing it to list uncontrollably to port, and out of the way of the Bristol; it didn't even manage to get off a shot. The Starbase shook slightly from the combat; more so when the Krakow drifted into the station itself and exploded. The shields absorbed most of the damage from the tiny craft as the crew had managed to eject their engine core, but the blast was still sufficient to cause damage.
"Target the Bristol and fire at will once it leaves the docking bay," Commodore McCovey ordered. Freeman was about to object but knew the commodore didn't have any alternative; the thieves had stolen a Federation starship and clearly knew how to use it.
"Commodore, someone is trying to access the Starbase's defense network remotely," Lieutenant Gray reported. "I'm trying to block them, but," he paused. "They have our prefix codes sir! Our shields are dropping!"
"My God," was all the commodore could muster before the Bristol opened fire from within the docking bay on the unprotected Starbase. The metallic screech of bulkhead being torn away managed to mask the first screams of panic aboard the Starbase, but soon both were heard with unnerving clarity. The Bristol threw several salvos of phaser beams cutting into the hull of the Starbase as the starship itself edged out of the bay; one beam caused an explosion which destroyed the deck immediately below Ops, causing half the floor to cave in and taking several officers, including Commodore McCovey and Captain Freeman with it. There was a great rush of air in the seconds before the computer recognized the hull breach and automatically put up a protective screen. Main power failed on the Starbase as the Bristol shot its way into the decks containing the station's main reactor core. The Bristol then alternated between other ships in the docking bay and the station itself.
"I've got to take the core off-line or this station will go up like a star going nova," Lieutenant Gray called out over the din of explosions and chaotic comm traffic. Though his idea was certainly a good one, he was never able to carry it out; the wall to the side of his station exploded in on him, propelling his body some thirty feet in the air laterally before he fell through the hole in the floor and down several decks.
As the computer blared warnings and the aura of the wounded and dying filled her empathic mind, Yilaan climbed over debris and got to the nearest panel that would allow her to carry out Gray's plans. While she did so, the Bristol, apparently satisfied with its handiwork, left the station at full impulse, jumping to warp speed as it cleared the base.
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