"Entering standard orbit around planet Nero, sir," Ensign Atreides announced from the navigation station. The huge reddish orange disk of the gas giant swelled in the Arizona's viewscreen, storms and winds measuring thousands of kilometers per hour streaking its surface and adding splotches and stripes of purple and brown.
"Very good, Ensign. Ms. Campbell, are the atmospheric probes ready for launch?" Captain Wallace requested.
"Aye, sir. All probe programming and diagnostics are complete. Ready for launch."
"It's your show now, Major."
"Aye, sir," Tarik said, tapping controls on his tactical console. "Firing solutions entered. Commencing firing!"
Ten Class IV reconnaissance probes launched from the Arizona's torpedo tubes, discarding their protective shrouds at a safe distance from the ship. The probes then flew under their own power to selected points in Nero's atmosphere--both poles, and at regularly-spaced latitudes. "Probe control is yours, Ms. Campbell," Tarik announced.
Campbell entered more commands, and began recording data from the probes. Tarik's job, for now, was done. He thought about Kassia, now on her second away mission in almost as many days. Given what she'd been through on her first away mission, Tarik was surprised that she would be so eager to take on another--and that Wallace would be so quick to assign her to a landing party. She is a resiliant one, my love...and at least she's in capable hands with Carter leading the mission! Tarik thought. Still, Tarik couldn't hep but worry as he monitored the positions of the probes.
The Arizona was slightly above the ecliptic of the system, and about five million kilometers out from the center of the planet. The probes, equipped with impulse drive, had taken several minutes to reach Nero's atmosphere. Tarik watched his monitor as the first probe reached the planet's atmosphere.
"Probe atmospheric entry at 90 degrees north latitutde commencing...so far pretty typical stuff. Methane, ammonia, hydrogen, assorted organic compounds," Campbell reported. A far more detailed analysis was being downloaded into the Arizona's science databanks. "Probe atmospheric entry at 68 degrees north latitude...organic compounds increasing in both complexity and percentage..."
Tarik was curious about the data from the probes, but he had to keep an eye on probes and on the system. The planetary system containing Nero was uncharted, and not even the Arizona's computers could possibly plot the trajectories of all the objects in the system capable of impacting with the ship and damaging or destroying it. Navigation deflectors could only do so much...
...and besides, there was always the possibility that something even more intriguing and/or dangerous could show up.
"The probe for 46 degrees north latitude isn't responding, Captain!" Campbell said with some alarm.
"Steady, Lieutenant--probes go missing all the time," Wallace replied.
"The probe for 24 degrees north latitude has stopped delivering telemetry, and I'm getting interference from the equator probe!"
"Major, what's going on?" Wallace asked. One probe failing was unlikely but not a cause for alarm. Three probes failing in sequence, however, indicated more than a simple malfunction or mishap.
Tarik increased his scanner resolution. "I'm not picking up anything, Captain, not from the planet. Wait--yes! There's a very weak transmission from Seneca," Tarik replied, indicating Nero's largest moon. Seneca could have passed for Mars in Earth's solar system, but with a more substantial atmosphere.
"Equator probe is off the board!" Campbell announced.
"Communications, intercept the transmission from Seneca. Major, keep scanning the planet and see what's happening with those probes!" Wallace ordered. "All hands, yellow alert!"
"Captain, I'm detecting a vessel exiting Nero's atmosphere," Tarik announced. "Preliminary scans indicate that it's an old Constellation-class ship."
"Constellation-class???" Wallace asked incredulously. "I thought the last of those went to the breakers years ago!"
"On paper they did, at any rate," Tarik replied. "The construction blueprints are public domain these days, for that matter."
"All hands, red alert!" the captain ordered. Red lights began flashing on the bridge, and a red alert siren sounded.
"Captain, they're hailing us!!!" an ensign at the Communications station announced.
"On screen!"
"You dumbass!!!! You said this was another derelict, like our ship was!" Captain Michaels yelled at his intelligence officer.
"Sir, that is a very old ship. It's an easy mistake to make!"
"That crew didn't look very old to me! That's an active Starfleet vessel! There's no way Starfleet's operating this far out!" Michaels yelled. "You must be working for them!"
"But sir--"
The hapless officer's protests were cut short by a phaser burst on stun. "Take him to the airlock. When he starts to recover, space him!" Michaels ordered two of his lackeys.
The Constellation-class ship had been stolen from Starfleet's boneyard at Starbase 562 two years earlier and, thanks to a well-placed bribe, had never been reported. The bridge was in dilapidated shape, with duct tape patching the chairs at the duty stations and half the display screens not working. It still bore its original registration marks: "USS HORNBLOWER NCC-1804" and had been operating at the fringes of Federation space ever since, preying on civilian traffic that mistook it for a legitimate Starfleet vessel.
"Sir, they're hailing us!"
"Put them on!!!!"
[Attention unknown vessel! This is Captain Richard Wallace of the Federation starship Arizona. We have reason to believe that you are involved in the theft of several scientific probes. You will heave to and receive a boarding party for inspection of your vessel!]
"Go to hell, Wallace!" Michaels growled.
[You have one more chance, and one chance only to heave to and receive a boarding party. Otherwise we will consider your vessel hostile and take appropriate action!]
"Weapons, open fire!!!"
And here I thought anyone smart enough to steal a starship would be smart enough to know when to quit! Tarik thought as the Hornblower's phasers struck the Arizona's shields. The outdated phasers had very little effect.
"Well, we tried talking with them. Major, bracket them with phaser fire!"
Wallace ordered.
"Aye, sir. Targeting solution plotted and fed to forward phaser arrays--firing now!"
Two beams of blue energy lanced toward either side of the Hornblower. The beams passed harmlessly by but very close to the old vessel. The proximity of the beams shorted out most of their antiquated shield emitters.
"Forward port and starboard shield emitters offline on enemy vessel!" Campbell reported. "They're coming at us again!"
Don't these guys know when to quit? Wallace asked himself. "Okay, Tarik--show me you earned your marksman award this year! Cut off his warp nacelles!"
"Aye, sir!" Tarik said, smiling as the Arizona's phaser banks made short work of the pylons connecting the nacelles to the engineering hull of the Hornblower. The two warp engnes floated harmlessly away from the rest of the ship.
Alarms screamed through the bridge of the Hornblower. "Damage control--what's our status?" Michaels bellowed over the alarms.
"Our status, sir, is that we have no freakin' engines anymore! We'd better surrender now--we're losing atmosphere and the damage control bulkheads aren't closing!"
"Why not???"
"This ship is over a hundred and twenty years old! Let's see how much you're capable of at a hundred and twenty!!!" the damage control specialist snapped back.
"You'll watch your tone with me, mister!" Michaels growled as he drew his phaser.
"You shoot him and you'll have to shoot all of us," another crewman, a Tellarite, snarled. Several voices sounded in agreement.
"Is this a mutiny?"
"No, sir--there's no ship left! How could this be a mutiny if there's no more ship???" Two of the bravos grabbed Michaels by either arm, relieved him of his phaser, and dragged him from the command chair.
The damage control specialist commed the Arizona.
"Sir, the pirate is hailing us," Atriedes reported.
"Put them on," Wallace replied. Even had the pirate vessel not borne the name of the vessel on which he first served, Richard was almost feeling guilty over this fight--it had literally been like pulling the wings off a fly.
[Captain Wallace, this is Damage Control Specialist Roger Perkins. We've mutinied against our captain and are surrendering our vessel. Do what you wish with us, but please call off the attack!] a very nervous young man about twenty years old almost cried.
"Major, go over there with a boarding party. Search the ship, and take these men into custody," Wallace said. Tarik got up from the Tactical station and headed to join his Marines.
"Perkins, you and the rest of your crew are under arrest, for the charge and specification of piracy. Given that you have surrendered your vessel and have overthrown your captain I will take this into consideration whenadjudicating your case. Now, what do you have in the way of contraband? Be honest, because I'll guarantee you the man I'm sending over is not be gentle with you if you aren't!"
[Drugs and weapons, sir. Some stolen cargoes. We're strictly commercial, sir!] Perkins protested.
"We'll find that out for sure in a moment, won't we?" Wallace replied laconically.
Tarik and a squad of eight beamed over to the remains of the Hornblower. The crew had apparently been living on and near the bridge, to conserve energy for life support. The bulkheads of the ship were covered with blue-green fungus which had eaten through most of the carpeting. The lights flickered as they made their way from the transporter room to the bridge. Some sections of this ship had not been inhabited since the Hornblower's last Starfleet crew left over eighty years before. Damn this is a dismal place, Tarik thought as he led the Marines to the bridge. Even though they were wearing environment suits, Tarik could swear he could smell the mildew in the air.
Scans of the ship indicated that only twelve crew were on board, five of them incapacitated or held under the control of the mutineers. Tarik reached the bridge and found the mutineers as good as their word. Per Tarik's instructions, they had placed all their weapons at the entrance of the turbolift and had gathered at the navigation/tactical station. Only one weapon was retained, to keep guard over Michaels and his loyalists.
"All right, where's your stash?" Tarik ordered.
"You keep your mouths shut! Tell him nothing!" Michaels growled.
"You--shut your trap! I'm giving the orders here! Now, give it up or you may not make it to a tribunal," Tarik said.
The loot was stashed on the moon Seneca; the science probes were held in the Hornblower's cargo bay. Tarik checked the coordinates the pirate crew gave him; the coordinates were close to the location of the destination of the radio receiver.
"Any guards on the moon?"
"Only two," Perkins replied.
"Tarik to Arizona--the pirates are in custody. Our missing probes are in the Hornblower's cargo hold and I've pulled the ship's log. Mission accomplished!"
[Very good. Stand by for transport!]
Before they beamed out, Tarik managed to pry the ship's plaque off the bulkhead as a gift for Captain Wallace.
A mission later that day to Seneca by Tarik's Marines in support of a science survey team revealed the pirate base--a desolate collection of prefab pressure domes guarded by two very frightened nineteen-year-old kids who barely knew one end of their phaser rifles from the other. Recovering the pirates' loot was hardly a challenge at all!
From what Tarik could ascertain, the whole operation wasn't even worthy of the title "amateur". Michaels' ego had gotten the better of him when he'd managed to steal a dilapidated starship that was both too large for such a small crew to effectively run and too out of date to pose a challenge even to most merchant shipping, let alone an active Starfleet vessel! It's a miracle these people managed to stay in circulation for two years! Tarik thought, even given statements by Perkins and others that most of their pirating experience consisted of ducking, running, and looking for especially soft targets. And they found them too: missionaries, pacifists, colony ships, and assorted other vessels lacking both a means of self-defense and meaningful loot. Most serious pirates generally left such ships alone because they weren't worth the bother.
All in all, Tarik thought, a very foolish effort. At least they had the wit to mutiny! Tarik put the finishing touches on his after-action report and headed to Kassia's quarters. She'd be back from her away mission now, with any luck.
"Hey, how'd it go?" he asked as he saw her.
"Oh, hi Tarik! It went great! I was a little nervous, but we found our way. How was your day?"
"Fairly typical. Better than it could have been," he replied cryptically.