textfiles/sf/STARTREK/voyages2

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From: stdnt163@whscdp.whs.edu
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: ST Voyages #2 "Orion the Abductor"
Message-ID: <1992May27.102425.469@whscdp.whs.edu>
Date: 27 May 92 16:24:25 GMT
Article-I.D.: whscdp.1992May27.102425.469
Organization: Washington HS, Milwaukee, WI
Lines: 786


     Captain's Log, Stardate 5054.9
     The Valiant has arrived at Starbase 23 for crew replacements
and some minor repairs.  Among them is our new navigator, Ensign
Rebecca G. Dorin.  Commodore Holsten is anxious to get the Valiant
back into The Zone, but I am debating with him about whether or not
I should request a new First Officer.

     Commander Krawczyk, Commander Millis,  Lieutenant Ledolison,
and Commander Queen stood ready at the Valiant's starboard airlock. 
The latter two were bound in some area in casts, reminders of
wounds they had taken from their previous adventure.  Code
sequences and seal checks were made, and the airlock doors opened,
connecting the Valiant with Starbase 23.  The officers stood at
attention, and Commodore Holsten approached them.  He barely
stopped for procedure, as he was impatient to learn why the Valiant
had returned so quickly.  The fact that Admiral Regiffe was
directly behind him also gave him reason to speed up.
     Holsten was a well built man, in his early fifties, with blond
hair and a look of sympathy aimed toward the Valiant officers. 
They returned the look, but wiped their faces clean when Holsten
passed by and Regiffe looked at them.
     "Permission to come aboard, sirs," Regiffe uttered.  He was
not as anxious as Holsten was to get the ship back to The Zone.  He
simply wanted to know how Hackley could lose four officers in the
first week of the mission, two of them to death.
     Regiffe, whose long stride had nearly trampled many people,
and was the reason Holsten had walked so fast, had seen his and a
dozen other people's share of starship problems.  The last thing he
wanted to do right now was to police a starship whose mission
wasn't even a month old.  This one was not on his agenda.
     The officers were stone solid, and worked like a machine as
they replied, "Permission granted, sir."
     Without missing a step, Regiffe continued right past the four
men and turned the corner into the Valiant's corridor.
     As soon as he was out of sight, the officers jogged into the
Starbase reception area.  Of course, the first place they all felt
like going was the lounge, where all the "talk of the town" would
take place.  However, business came first, and their business was
the woman standing at the reception room's door.
     She stood about five feet six inches and was in casual
clothes.  She had long, flowing brown hair and the deepest blue
eyes, which the officers immediately got lost in.  Jim snapped out
of it and bumped Peter, causing Peter to bump Millis and Millis to
bump Mark, who stumbled into the nearest wall.  Jim just ignored
Mark and greeted the woman.
     "Ensign Rebecca Dorin?"
     "Yes?"
     "I am Commander James Queen, of the Starship Valiant, to my
left is Lieutenant Peter Ledolison, Lieutenant Commander John
Millis, and...uh..Commander Mark."
     Pushing himself off of the floor and dusting off his uniform,
he took the Ensign's left hand and kissed it lightly on the middle
knuckle.
     "The pleasure is all mine, my dear."
     Jim didn't look at him, "Mark, please, protocol."
     "Oh, sorry, Jim."  Mark took his place next to Millis and the
Ensign tried not to blush in front of her commanding officers.  She
stood at attention.
     "Permission to come aboard, sirs."
     The officers answered simply on cue.  "Permission granted,"
they said in harmony.  Their heads moved together as Rebecca Dorin
walked by and entered the Valiant.
     When her last curve went around the corner, the men turned
their attention back towards the Starbase.  As they headed toward
the turbolift, Peter tried to break the silence that had fallen
over them.
     "Well, she seems like a nice person."
     The other three men turned their heads towards Peter.  Peter
looked back.
     "No kidding, Einstein," Mark chided, "your powers of
observation are outstanding."
     Peter gave Mark a wicked sneer and then responded in an
impatient voice.
     "I meant her personality."
     Mark answered playfully, "Sure you did."
     Peter shook his head but didn't reply.  The other two men were
enjoying the controversy.  The reached the turbolift and entered. 
Jim pushed the button for the Rec Deck.  Mark opened his mouth
again.
     "Boy, I've got my eye on that ensign.  By next week she'll be
mine."
     As he finished his sentence, the lift stopped and the doors
opened.  Mark took one step and ran right into a blond-haired
female.  She cleared the hair out of her eyes, looked at Mark, and
yelled.
     "Mark!"
     Mark's eyes got big and he replied in a surprised voice.
     "Sandy!"
     The other three officers looked at each other, then back at
the couple.

"Orion the Abductor"
Written by James Queen and Mark Krawczyk.

     Captain Hackley sat in his chair on the bridge, watching the
skeleton crew work.  His forehead was wrinkled and his eyes were
narrow; he was contemplating.  He was thinking of his late First
Officer and the prospect of a new First Officer.  He had known Ron
Pelten for six years, considered him not only a good First Officer
and Navigator, but a close friend.  Ron had known exactly what
Hackley wanted and Hackley had respected Ron's decisions.  Now, he
was dead, and Hackley didn't know what to think.
     He hit his hand on the arm of his chair and cursed his job,
but then something broke his chain of thought.
     "Excuse me, sir."
     He focused his tired eyes and they found brown hair, deep blue
eyes, and the shape of a female.  He replied halfheartedly.
     "Yes?"
     "Ensign Rebecca Dorin reporting for duty, sir."
     Hackley stood.  "Welcome aboard, Ensign.  I'm Captain Hackley. 
Please take your station."
     "Thank you, sir."
     Rebecca sat at the navigation console.  Hackley watched her
and thought to himself.  She looks like she's got a few years of
experience in her head.  She should be a good addition, but neither
she, nor anyone else, will be able to fill Pelten's shoes.
     That was half of Pelten's position Ensign Dorin sat in. 
Hackley wasn't sure if he wanted the other half, the position of
First Officer, filled.  Maybe he would fill it himself.
     He stood and walked off the bridge.  In the turbolift, he
pushed the button that would take him to the officer's quarters.

     On the Starbase, Jim sat at the table and drank a strange
orange colored drink.  Across from him, John stared at what was
left of his fizzy beige selection.  Next to him, Peter studied the
new green wine he had ordered.  The last seat at the table was
empty.
     The turbolift doors swished open, and the officers looked up. 
A couple walked out and towards the viewing room.  The officers
continued with their drinks.
     "I know I've seen her before," Peter spoke up.
     John and Jim looked at him wearily, then looked back down.
     "Probably someone of royalty Mark found while he was on shore
leave," John figured.  Peter nodded.  Jim continued eating.  John
looked at Jim.  "You haven't said anything.  Who do you think she
is?"
     Jim looked at him, "I don't have to say anything, I know who
she is."
     "Who?" the others said together.
     "Sandy is Mark's old flame from Starfleet Academy.  Her father
is Admiral Lewis Johnson."
     Peter clapped his hands, "That's it."  John's eyes grew.
     "The Admiral Johnson?" he squeaked, "The Admiral Johnson that
was decorated for military excellence more times than a tribble
eats?  Mark was one lucky guy."
     Jim choked on the orange fluid and laughed.  "Lucky nothing. 
The Admiral hated Mark bad, and still does."  When Jim saw the
others' confused looks, he continued, "You see, Mark and Sandy
snuck into a closed simulator one time and Johnson caught them.  He
managed to station Mark as far away from Sandy as possible."
     "Oops," Peter muttered.
     "Wow, now their reunited," John said, "Isn't it sweet.  You
think they'll stay together long, Jim?"
     Jim finished the drink, "At least until the Admiral finds
out."

     Ensign Rebecca Dorin left her quarters.  She had just finished
unpacking and making her stateroom more homely.  Now she was ready
to meet Captain Hackley.  She was sure he would want to know her
qualifications, and what she could do to replace Ron Pelten.  She
had read about him.  She wanted to know everything about any
assignment she was given.  The position would include proving that
she could be as good as Pelten.  She had a tough job ahead.
     Ahead, the Captain's quarters came into view.

     He was standing in an empty, black room.  He took a look
around and saw a large rock in the middle of the room.  A sword
stuck out of the rock, spitting fog into the air.  When he neared
the sword, he saw its face.  Ben Hackley knew this sword.  He
wanted to grab it.  He wanted control of the blade that had killed
his First Officer...No, his friend.  He would smash it against the
rock, kill the killer.
     As he reached out to it, the sword suddenly opened its eyes
and laughed.
     Hackley stopped and dropped his arms to his sides, "Why are
you laughing?"
     "Because it's your fault," the sword cried.
     "What's my fault?" Ben asked, already aware of the answer.
     "That Pelten is dead!" the sword giggled, "You could've had
one of your underlings do it!  Maybe you could just leave the
pirates alone!  Maybe then Pelten wouldn't be dead!  But, ha, but,
ha ha, but you, tsss ha ha, you screwed up!  Ha ha ha ha!"
     Hackley burst in his rage.
     "STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!"

     "STOP IT!"
     Rebecca heard the order and stopped.  She stared at the door
a second.  No, he couldn't have been talking to her; she just got
here.  She pushed the door chime.  For a minute, there was silence. 
Then, footsteps approached the door.  The double doors slid open,
and Captain Hackley stood calmly in the doorway.
     "Yes?"
     "Ensign Rebecca Dorin, sir.  I wanted to report to you
directly."
     Hackley blurted the first question that came into his mind. 
"What do you think of your position?"
     Rebecca smiled.  "I'm happy to be aboard the Valiant, sir."
     Hackley considered her for a second.  Of course she was happy. 
She was a navigator on a Constitution-class Starship.  Yes, she'd
better be happy.  Ron Pelten died to give her that spot.
     Hackley blinked a few times.  No, it wasn't her fault.  He
took a quick breath and pointed a hand inside.
     "Come in, please."
     Rebecca walked into his quarters.  Hackley walked to his desk,
and then to the computer in the corner.
     "Something to drink, Ensign?" he offered.
     "No, thank you, sir."  She walked into the office area. 
Hackley waited as his cup of coffee appeared in the food
replicator, then moved to his desk and sat.
     "Sit down, please, Ensign."
     She sat.  Hackley stared at the table, then looked up.
     "I suppose," he said wearily, "I should know your navigation
skills."
     "Well," she began, "Captain Gelistenn on the Military
Operations vessel Bladepoint taught me much of what I know.  He
said in his report that I had shown incredible efficiency in
stressful situations.  At the Academy..."
     "Ensign," Hackley interrupted, "I...don't need to hear about
your record, to tell the truth.  I've read it, and practically
memorized it."
     Rebecca paused.  "Thank you, sir."
     Hackley thought for a moment.  "My concerns about your new
position are personal.  I know you are a fine officer, which is why
you are here.  But, I may seem biased against you because, in the
last few days, I've had to deal with the loss of my First Officer,
and more importantly, my good friend."  Rebecca stared at him, and
Hackley sipped his coffee.  He continued, "That is traumatic
enough.  Now, however, I'm experiencing some...doubts... about my
actions, and how they may have affected his death.  And, I'm
wondering if I must bring aboard another First Officer.  Because,
I'd like to keep full command of my vessel for my last two years."
     Rebecca continued to stare at him.  Hackley said nothing more,
and only stared back.
     Finally, she spoke up.  "Sir, may I speak freely?"
     Hackley flinched.  "Yes, you may."
     "Sir, are you relating your personal problems to me?"
     Hackley thought a moment.  "Why, yes, I guess I am."
     Rebecca swallowed.  "Do you feel better, now?  I mean, now
that you've completely expressed you thoughts."
     Hackley looked at the desk, then back at Rebecca.  "Ensign, I
think you have just solved my problem."
     Rebecca looked confused.  "I did?"
     Hackley was standing, "Yes, you did."
     Rebecca stood and followed Hackley on his way to the door.
     "Oh, by the way," Hackley said on his way out.  He turned and
shook Rebecca's hand.  "Welcome aboard, Ensign.  I hope you enjoy
yourself here."
     Hackley walked away, leaving Rebecca standing in the corridor. 
She watched him strut off, looked at the floor, looked back at him,
and turned.  With a smile of wonder on her face, she walked towards
the turbolift.
     She stopped when she saw Commander Krawczyk kissing a
blond-haired woman in his doorway.  Mark waved good-bye as the
woman walked away.  When his door closed, Rebecca quickened her
pace and caught up with the woman.
     "Hi," she greeted.
     "Oh, hi," the woman returned.
     "I didn't know you were so close with the Commander."
     "Oh, well, we were good friends while we were at the Academy."
     Rebecca looked at her as they stepped into the turbolift.
     "Sandy," Rebecca said as she grabbed the woman's shoulder, "We
were roommates on the Starbase for two years, and you never said
anything about it."
     Sandy shrugged, "You never asked about my early life in the
Academy.  Besides, you know I don't like telling people about my
personal life.  You remember all those times I told you I was going
to the library, or out with some old friends, or late working at
the lab?"
     Rebecca looked at her skeptically, "Yeah."
     "Well," Sandy said as pushed the button for Deck 17, "those
were actually dates with most of the male crew."
     Rebecca stared in shock, "That's how you knew so many people
on the Starbase?"
     Sandy grinned, "Yep.  I didn't tell you, because if my father
just happened to call and ask where I was, you would have had to
lie."
     "Why sneak around?" Rebecca inquired, "I could keep a secret. 
Your dad wouldn't find out."
     Sandy rolled her eyes, "You don't know my dad.  He would've
figured out that you were lying.  Cadets call him 'Admiral
Lie-detector,' because he can tell you're holding something back. 
He would read you like an open book.  And, if he found out, he
would throw a complete fit.  I'm supposed to be daddy's good little
girl.  I can't have a love life.  Everything has to be business."
     "No wonder I could never get a date," Rebecca mused, "You took
them all."
     The ladies laughed.  Rebecca looked at Sandy.
     "I'm gonna miss you, you know," Rebecca said."
     Sandy gave her a hug.  "Don't worry, I'm sure I'll find a way
back here."
     "It should be easy, right?"  Rebecca grew excited, "You'll
come during shore leave, especially now that you're seeing
Commander Krawczyk, right?"
     Sandy smiled cleverly, "We'll see what happens."
     The turbolift doors opened.
     "Bye," Sandy said.
     "Bye," Rebecca answered.
     Sandy turned the corner.  Becky let the turbolift's doors
close, then decided to ask Sandy to come for dinner on their last
night together.  She walked back into the corridor as the doors
reopened.  She turned the corner and caught Sandy, in the arms of
a six foot, blond haired crewman.  He was nearly lifting Sandy off
the deck.  At the end of their long, passionate kiss, they walked
down the corridor with their arms around each other.
     Rebecca walked back to the turbolift, amazed.

     Jim was sitting at the table, working on a second orange
liquid, and looking out the viewport.  Peter and John had gotten
involved in a discussion about phaser efficiency on the Valiant. 
Jim looked at them, noticed they hadn't figured anything out, and
continued trying to figure out how Mark had gotten his 120%
efficiency rating.  It was a question he had been working on for
weeks, and wanted to ask Mark about, if he could ever come to a
conclusion.
     In the many years I've known him, he thought, I've never seen
him act like an officer, follow orders, and work seriously at any
one time.
     Jim's thoughts were broken by a yell, which also caused him to
drop his drink.
     "I'm back!!!"
     Still looking at the viewport, he informed John and Peter,
"It's Mark."
     Mark pointed at the bar.  "Bartender, a free drink for
everyone.  Oh, we don't have a bartender.  Oh well.  Your loss,
everybody.  Hey, Jim," Mark yelled, gesturing at Jim, "How's it
goin'?"
     Jim answered as Mark reached the table.  "Not to bad.  I was
enjoying a peaceful and invigorating drink before you made me spill
it all over myself," he replied, wiping off his uniform.  Mark took
the seat he should have been sitting in an hour ago, between Peter
and Jim.
     Peter asked, "So, how are the lovebirds doing?"
     Mark started his own brown fuzzy drink, "Oh great, just fine,
it's like we were back at the Academy!"
     As Jim raised the remains of his drink to his mouth he asked,
"Got any future plans, yet?"  He took a mouthful of liquid.
     "Yes," Mark beamed, "I've decided to marry her!"
     Jim spit the liquid all over the window he had been looking
out of.

     Doctor Brian Halmen waited for Hackley to finish his sentence. 
He figured Ben would be having problems after Ron Pelten's death. 
Though he had only known Ron for half a year, he had known Ben
Hackley for close to fifteen years.  Hackley had first told Brian
about Ron in one of the letters he had been sending to the Doctor. 
Of course, that was before Brian had been brought aboard the
Valiant, per Hackley's recommendation.
     Now Brian was staring at Ben, waiting.  Finally, Hackley
finished his sentence.
     "And she asked if I was feeling better, now that I had related
my problems to her."
     Brian raised his eyebrows.  "Did you?"
     Hackley nodded, "Yes.  And I think I'll feel much, much better
if I take care of this problem now.  If I make my decision, and
stand by it, and believe it's the right one, then I should be
content and happy."
     Brian smiled.  Hackley looked at him.
     "What's your advice?"
     Doctor Halmen shook his head.  "I don't have any, anymore. 
You took it right out of my mouth.  Actually, you took it out of
your mind.  That's probably the solution you've been thinking of
for a while."
     Hackley got up from the chair and leaned on the desk.  "Do you
think it's the right solution, Doc?"
     "Well," Brian answered, "you'll find out eventually, won't
you?"
     Ben thought a moment, then moved toward the door.  On his way
out, he murmured, "Thanks, Doc."
     Brian smiled, and finished working on the injury files in
front of him.

     Ensign Dorin composed herself as she stepped back on to the
Starbase.  She was ready to get to know the other officers, off the
record this time.  She was especially interested in talking to
"Commander Mark," who had pulled that one-twenty efficiency and
Sandy as well.
     She turned into the lounge and found herself in the middle of
a celebration.  Half the people were crowded around the food
replicators, so the drinks must have been free.  In the center of
the room, Commander Krawczyk was being carried toward a table in
the corner.  People were yelling "Bachelor party" and "No way!" 
Against the bulkhead, the other Valiant officers watched the
procession, one of them had spilled something all over his uniform.
     As Rebecca tried to shove her way through the room, Mark was
dumped on the table, where he stood and whistled between his
fingers.
     "Jim, Pete, Johnny, get over here!"
     The officers looked at each other, then began pushing toward
the corner.  Rebecca redirected herself to meet them.
     "You're not serious, you know," Jim was yelling.
     "Of course not!" Mark screamed, "I'm engaged!"
     As Rebecca approached the table, Mark noticed her.
     "Hey, everybody, our new nav's here!  Give her a big hand!"
     A mass of confusion answered him.
     "Guys!"  This came from one of the Starbase officers, who was
looking down the hallway to the viewing room.  Heads shifted and
looked in the same direction.  The voice rang out again, "The
bachelor party's dancer is right here!"
     The eyes squinted, trying to find a target.  They found a
woman, a green-skinned woman, wearing what could be termed as a
mesh net cover.
     Mark also turned his attention to the hallway, and cheered
heartily when he saw what everybody else saw.  "C'mon, guys, this
is for us!"  He jumped off the table and started down the hall. 
Peter, John, and Jim looked at each other, thought a second, then
started off behind him.  At that moment, Rebecca reached the table. 
She stopped the last officer in line and turned him around.
     "Wait...Uh, you're Commander...Queen?"
     Jim replied quickly, "Yes?"
     "You...you can't go in there!"
     "What?"
     "You can't go in there!"
     "Why?"
     "That's an Orion dancing girl!"
     "A what?!?!"
     "You heard me!"
     "It can't be!"
     They continued yelling back and forth as the crowd started
pushing the officers toward the hallway.  As Jim was shoved with
them, he grabbed Rebecca's arm.
     "It can't be!" he yelled.
     "Why not?" she replied
     "Because if it was, Peter would have told us!"
     "Really?  What would he have said?"
     "Everything?"
     "Yes, everything!"
     "He would've told us it was an Orion dancing girl, native of
Rigel, recognized by their green skin, he's told us this before!"
     "Keep going!"
     "Green skin, very seductive, and irresistible to any human
male!"
     "What?"
     "Irresist..."  He stared at Rebecca, looked at the woman,
looked back to Rebecca, and screamed.  "Damn.  She's getting us,
isn't she?"
     "Yes, she is!" Rebecca answered.
     "Well, let me get Mark and-oof."
     He was shoved harder this time as the crowd pushed them toward
the hall.
     "You can't!" Rebecca screamed, "She's illegal!"
     "Well," Jim muttered, already feeling woozy as he entered the
hallway, "get help, then.  Bye!"
     "Bye!  I mean... Hey!!!"
     The four officers were now stumbling down the hall toward the
viewing room.  Mark was about to turn around and invite everybody
in, when the isolation door closed to the lounge, separating them
from the crowd.  Befuddled, they turned back to the viewing room. 
A bit dizzy, they managed to get into the room when the dancing
girl stopped and pushed the button on the viewer.  On either side
of her, three Orion guards, wearing their regular green uniforms
and yellow goggles, materialized in the room.  One of them walked
toward the officers and pulled out a hypo spray, containing a
tranquilizer vial.
     "Hey, look, guys!" John fumbled, "Frogs!"
     The hypo sprayed into his arm, and he fell to the floor.
     Similar applications were made to the other officers, and they
started going down.  Mark had time to mutter his approval before
the spray got him.
     "Some party, huh, guys?"  He looked at his arm.  "Now, what
was that for?"

     Commodore Holsten paced the office.  Hackley's head moved back
and forth as he watched and waited for his answer.  Finally,
Holsten sat behind his desk and leaned his head on his fist.
     "Ben," he sighed, "you know Regiffe wouldn't approve.  He
knows you've had plenty of experience with command, but he figures
that," Holsten paused, "well, you realize these are not my words."
     Hackley took a deep breath.
     Holsten continued, "Regiffe thinks a First Officer would be
best for you at your...age."
     Hackley didn't wait.  He played on the remark, "At my age, I
think I deserve a little leeway.  I'm sick of risking someone else
on my command decisions.  I'm sick of someone else running my ship
for me.  Now, I respect the position.  But, I want command all to
myself for my last two years.  I think it would improve my
performance, and isn't that what Regiffe wants overall, good
performance?"
     Holsten stared at him.  Hackley began breathing again and sat
back down.  Holsten turned toward his computer and pulled up a file
on Hackley's past assignments.  He studied the statistics.
     "Fifteen years ago," he began, "You were in command of the USS
Endeavor.  A First Officer couldn't be assigned immediately, and
was eventually forgotten.  Your efficiency rating was best during
that tour."
     Hackley thought and remembered, "That's right!  You see?"
     Holsten tapped a few buttons on the control panel and entered
something on the record.  "I'll talk to Regiffe," he said,
"Effective immediately, a First Officer aboard the USS Valiant will
become unnecessary."
     Hackley beamed.  He stood and said, "Thank you, Henry.  You've
made my day, and possibly, my mission."
     Hackley turned and left, leaving Holsten smiling and shaking
his head.

     "They could've warned us,"  Mark said.
     The officers wandered around the cell they had awakened in. 
They were searching cracks and holes.  Panels and circuits were
fiddled with, in futile attempts to deactivate the force field
keeping them captive.
     "Why would they want us?" Peter asked rhetorically.
     "Why do Orions ever do what they do?" Mark replied, "Because
they feel like it."
     "Propaganda," Jim ventured, "Just to let the Federation know
they could take someone of importance, say, a perfect officer?"
     "Listen," Mark spat, "that 120 rating was the result of study,
and hard work, and an effort to save my ass!  I was warned by my
commanding officer that if I didn't shape up awfully fast, I'd lose
my commission and the Federation would dump me on some mudball
where I couldn't cause trouble, without a ship.  Now, to me, that's
worse than death.  So, I shaped up, and guaranteed that everyone
would take another look at me, cause I'm a damn good officer, and
I can prove it!"
     The others stood and stared, completely bewildered.  They
looked at each other, then burst out in applause.  Completely
unexpected from prisoners, the Orion guard down the corridor found
this to be strange.  He walked down the corridor to investigate. 
As he looked through the force field at the officers, the force
field disappeared, and a sharp object punctured the guard's
stomach.  He fell over without a sound, and the officers walked
out.
     "How did you do that?" Peter asked.
     Mark was putting the small, sharp object away.  "It was a
standard two-fifty-six B force field generator attached to a
Castlik-Drelfin..."
     "Drahalefinn," Jim corrected, searching the guard.
     "Drahalefinn," Mark continued, "computer implementor."
     "Very good," Jim said, pulling out the guard's weapon.
     "Fortunately, I was carrying my all-purpose...uh..what do I
call this thing, Jim?"
     "Whatsit."
     "Whatsit," he said, "made of a strong plastic I found on Tau
Sigma six.  It got past their detectors because I hide it in my
bio'badge, which is a centimeter wider than standard badges, just
so I could hold it."
     Jim opened the door and fired at a guard posted outside.  He
fell, and Jim waved everyone along.  Peter and John were a few
seconds behind, due to the time it took to understand what Mark had
said.
     "We don't want to go to the bridge," Jim said, "Because
there'll be many more guards in the way.  Let's try some place that
we can alert the Starbase with.  Suggestions?"
     "A weapons room," John said.
     "He didn't say fire at the Starbase," Peter reminded.
     "I know, but if we fire, we'll definitely alert any ships to
our location.  The Valiant obviously doesn't know where we are,
because we're still here.  They would've found a hidden ship. 
There must be a cloaking device."
     "We can't use weapons until the cloaking device is disengaged,
there's not enough power," Jim said.
     "Then let's get the cloaking device," Mark said.
     "Oh, so easy, right?" Peter remarked.
     "You want back in the brig?" Mark asked.
     "Let's go," Peter said.

     Ensign Dorin stepped on to the bridge.  The turbolift doors
closed behind her as she looked around.  Seeing that the Captain
was missing, she turned around and tried to enter the elevator
again.  She was stopped by the Captain himself, who was also
returning to the bridge.
     "Captain!" she started, "Orions are on the Starbase, they've
kidnapped Commanders Queen, Krawczyk, Ledolison, and Millis."
     Hackley frowned at her, destroying the smile that had been on
his face, and became immediately alert.  He started moving toward
the command chair.  "How do you know this, Ensign?"
     Rebecca was still at his side, "I saw them just as they were
crowded into a viewing room on the Starbase, sir.  A dancing girl
was there, and used some kind of gas to lure the officers to the
room."
     Hackley looked at her, "Well done, Ensign.  Take your station,
please."
     "Yes, sir."  She moved to the navigation console.
     "Mr. C'dez," Hackley addressed the second shift Science
Officer, "Scan the Starbase for our officers' bio'badges."
     "Aye, sir," the officer replied, looking into the sensor
screen.  The officer from the planet Heri'dahl flipped a few
toggles, directing the ship's computer to scan for the bio'badges,
which all Starfleet personnel wore on their uniforms.  The badges
constantly informed the computer of the person's location and
medical condition, so C'dez found the officers rather easily, and
was able to tell that they were unconscious.
     "Officers are ungonscious, Gaptain," C'dez said, in his best
interpretation of the Galacta language, "They are in viewing room
three, Regreation Degg."
     Hackley was about to compliment C'dez when the sensor beeped
at him again.
     "Gaptain, the officers are gone!"
     Hackley stood and walked up to the science monitor.  The
monitor showed a schematic of the viewing room, and the last known
location of the officers, and seven other life forms.
     
     "Why are we always fighting pirates, lately?" Peter wondered. 
"I'm still healing from the last ones."
     "Just a stroke of luck," Mark answered.  He fired and dropped
a guard standing outside a room with a red dotted line on the door. 
Peter had identified the line as the standard Orion graphic for
weapons.  Orion pirates wanted independence so bad, they had
created they're own signs for everything, and then boasted about
them for some reason, letting everyone know what they looked like.
     When the other guard had fallen under Jim's blast, the
officers ran to the door.  The door opened as the officers neared
it, and they continued running right in.  Mark looked around just
in time to see a weapon swing towards his head.  He groaned as the
impact sent him to the floor.  Before long, the other three had
been knocked out.

     "Sganning the segtor, sir," C'dez reported.
     "Good.  Let me know what happens."
     "Nothing, sir.  Segtor still shows empty."
     Hackley frowned.  No ships in the sector.  Only my ship in the
sector.  Only the Starbase in the sector.  No missing officers in
the sector, of course.
     "Captain," Rebecca spoke up, "search for ion trails."
     Hackley looked up.  "What?"
     "Ion trails, sir.  A cloaked vessel could be holding the
officers, but any impulse drive emits ion exhaust."
     "Yes," Hackley said, "C'dez, scan for ion trails.  Activate
all sensors to standby for the appearance of a cloaked ship.  If it
is a cloaked ship, it could be Klingon or Romulan."

     "Why won't they answer?" the Orion demanded, grabbing Mark's
arm.
     "Maybe," he mumbled, "their batteries are dead."
     The Orion growled and knocked Mark to the floor again.  He
happened to land next to Jim, who looked at him.  Mark followed
Jim's eyes as they went from him, down to his bio'badge, and up to
the panel above his head.  He had tried to land there after he was
hit by the butt of the Orion's blaster.  Mark looked at the panel
and scratched his hip, moving his hand toward the bio'badge at his
navel.
     Jim looked at John, who was watching them intently.  He
glanced at the Orion standing next to the viewer, and John nodded
slightly.  Peter also nodded when Jim glanced at the guard nearest
him.
     "I want them to answer!" the Orion screamed.
     "Shaddap!" John yelled.
     The Orion turned and slapped him.  As John's head whipped to
the side, he made his leg react as well, tripping the Orion and
alerting the other guards.
     As one guard moved toward his commander, Peter grabbed his leg
and pulled him down.  The guard in the corner pulled out his
blaster, but was felled by the weapon John had taken from the
commander.  The final guard was caught by Jim as he stood and
grabbed the guard's arm.  A fist caught the Orion's jaw, and he
fell.

     "No ion trails in sensor range, Gaptain."
     "Thank you, C'dez," Hackley said.  He sat in his chair and
tapped his fingers.  "The vessel is stationary, if it's here," he
said.
     "No, it's been here awhile," Rebecca said.  "If it was moving
at all within the last eight hours, the trails would show up.  This
is a spy ship, sir."
     "Communications," Hackley said, "send to the Starbase. 
Request sensor data for the last month.  Have it downloaded to the
ship's computer."
     The Communications officer on duty turned and contacted the
Starbase.  She stopped and looked at the control panel, puzzled. 
She turned back to Captain Hackley.  "Sir, Orions are hailing us!"
     "On screen," Hackley said.  On the forward viewer, space was
replaced by an image of an Orion in yellow goggles.
     "We hold four prisoners," the Orion said, "from the United
Federation of Planets, including the perfectly rated officer, Mark
Krawczyk.  This is a testimony to all, that the Orions can conquer
all of you at any time.  However, we are going to show mercy.  We
demand only a trade.  The prisoners, for five transport vessels,
full of dilithium."
     Hackley turned to the Communications officer and motioned for
her to close the channel.  "Locate the transmission point, C'dez. 
They must have a good reason for breaking their cover. 
Suggestions?"
     "They won't give the officers back, sir," Rebecca said.
     "Why not?" Hackley asked.
     "They must have broken their cover out of desperation.  They
wouldn't make a fair trade in their position.  They can get out
easily with their cloaking device.  My guess is that they need to
use their bargaining chips now, before they're broken."
     Hackley looked worried, "You're saying, the officers may be
hurt, and the Orions want to get as much from them as they can?"
     "That's my opinion, sir."
     Hackley looked at the viewer.  "Well, we'll have to steal
their chips, then."

     The Orion commander was trying to get up and grabbing at John
when Mark pulled out the "whatsit" and pried open the panel Jim had
referred him to.  Peter jumped on the guard he had downed, and
didn't see the guard Jim had slugged get up and run for the alarm. 
Jim was helping to get the panel off and pushing buttons, and
didn't see when his former victim hit the alarm, either.
     The door opened, and reinforcements arrived.  John fired on
two of them before they figured out what was happening, and was
pulled to the floor by the commander he had tripped earlier.  Peter
pulled out his guard's weapon and shot two more.  As three more
guard came in and aimed their weapons, Mark pulled the panel off of
the computer system and pointed to a small box.  Jim began studying
the wires, and Mark turned to the noise of blaster fire.  He stood
and kicked the Orion commander off of John, then hit the deck when
the three newly arrived guards aimed at him.  Peter fired at one,
but the others made him jump out of the way.  Jim looked up and saw
the problem, then looked back to the electronics.  He looked at the
"whatsit," and jammed it into the system.  As the console exploded,
Mark took advantage of the distraction to grab one more guard.

     "Gaptain!"
     "Yes, C'dez?" Hackley said.
     "A vessel is de-gloaging!"
     "What?"
     Rebecca answered, "De-cloaking, sir.  Look!"
     On the viewer, an Orion gunboat faded into existence.
     "Transporter room," Hackley called, "lock on to our officers
and beam them out!"
     "There's no communications lock, sir," the transporter
officer's voice replied.
     "Do it, anyway!" Hackley said, "Sickbay, standby in
transporter room one."

     The guards aimed at Peter.  He had nowhere to go.  Mark tried
to get to the armed Orions, but was subdued by the guard he had
grabbed.  Jim was scrambling away from the fire on the control
panel.  John was buried under the Orion commander.
     The guards pulled the triggers.  Peter winced as a golden wave
washed over him.  The other officers were enveloped in the golden
blanket, then the transporter beam took them away.
     They opened their eyes and saw a surprised transporter
officer.  The officer tapped the intercom.  "Bridge, I've got
them!"
     The officers looked around, then moved toward the doors.

     "Close channel."
     "Aye, sir."
     Hackley took a deep breath and turned as the turbolift doors
opened.  He saw his four officers walk in, one of them with a
bloody lip, another with an orange fluid spilled all over him. 
They were all smiling.
     "Thank you, sir," Jim said, "They couldn't have gotten closer
than that."
     "You should compliment Ensign Dorin, here," Hackley said,
"She's the one who reported your disappearance, and made some
rather brilliant deductions."
     The officers looked at each other, then at the navigator.  She
looked back at them, and smiled brightly.  "Hi, guys."

     Captain's log - Stardate 5055.6
     The Orion pirates have been taken into custody.  Ensign Dorin
has proven herself qualified to be aboard the Valiant, not as a
navigator, but as a friend.  Commodore Holsten is sending us back
to the Zone, without a First Officer.  I believe I'm at peace, now. 
We are leaving Starbase 23 within the hour.

     "Of course not!" Mark said, in a faked surprised tone, "I was
never serious about that.  It was all a joke!"
     "Was it?"
     "Sure!  Why would I want to marry her, when I've just met
you?"
     Rebecca smiled and looked around the messhall.
     "It sure is nice, here," she said, "everyone is happy with
each other."
     "Yeah, we're one big, happy family," Mark said, and looked up. 
"Hey!"
     Jim stopped and looked at him.  "I didn't want to bother you,
you're obviously busy."
     Mark glared at him.  "I've been meaning to talk to you."
     "About what?"
     "You trashed my 'whatsit'"
     Jim shook his head, "You've gotta be kidding."
     Mark glowered at him, "You know how hard it is to get one of
those things?"
     Jim glared back, "You want it?  Go get it!  You should've told
me it was so important, I would've given it to you instead of
destroying the Orions' cloaking device!"
     Rebecca giggled.  Mark and Jim looked at her, then looked at
each other.  They guessed at each other's thoughts, glanced at
Rebecca, winked at each other, then laughed themselves.
     The Valiant glided away from Starbase 23, and into open space.

-- 
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James Queen |   STAR TREK VOYAGES
------------|
We miss     |	Created by James Queen and Mark TaiLore
Gene, Rod,  |   Based on "Star Trek" created by Gene Roddenberry
and Barry   |   	
------------|   Follow the adventures of the USS Valiant.

STDNT163: WASHINGTON HIGH SCHOOL, MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN, 53210
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