dry run 6 star trek fanfic

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The office had its usual early morning feel, a purely psychological effect as Slithe was now spinning past noon for the second time that day. The keypad to the door bleeped merrily as Orrin pressed the code into it and the lights illuminated the room as he walked in. Almost immediately he noticed the heavily set and severely dressed young man slouching in his office chair. Behind him stood another, slightly less threatening, individual. Davison stopped.

When the duo failed to either shoot or arrest him, he realised that they had probably come to talk.

"Come in, Orrin Davison," said the man standing behind the comfortable chair that resided at Orrin's desk. He had read from and now replaced the small triangular sign that bore Orrin's name. The heavily set young man that was seated in the chair seemed not to react to Davison's arrival and instead concentrated on the object in his hands. The object was both familiar and expensive, but Davison refrained from telling the man to put it back.

Instead Orrin stood and tried to figure out what was going on. He was sure he hadn't met these people before.

"Who are you?" Was the only thing that Davison could think of saying.

"Well, you could say that we're messengers," came the cryptic reply. Orrin tried to remember if he had upset anyone recently. He soon stopped as the list was beginning to become unmanageably large. The small pause was ended quickly. "We're here to straighten a few things out," the man behind the chair said. He walked out from behind it. "You see, we're a little concerned. Mr. Jacs is worried that affairs on the station are getting out of hand," the talkative one of the pair explained.

Davison stepped more fully into the room and was suddenly aware of something hanging on the wall behind him. He span around. The something turned out to be someone, Kirik. Davison froze. He had little fondness for his former hireling, but he was shocked at the sight. The Ferengi was dead.

"We made a good job of him, quick, painless," said the, still unintroduced, man. Davison turned back to face the visitors. The younger thug in the chair had drawn a phaser and now had it aimed at Orrin's head.

"I've never heard of your Mr. Jacs." The man with the phaser walked around the desk in anticipation of some action.

"That is somewhat beside the point Mr. Davison, ignorance of the rules on the station will not excuse you, or your employees, from punishment when you break them." The statement worried Orrin. This kind of thing was far beyond his understanding. He was quickly learning that he was in the middle of something far outside his control. He had started something he couldn't finish.

"You murdered him!" Davison raged, as the full impact of the incident became clearer.

"He got in the way."

"What do you want from me?" Orrin quizzed. The stranger, walked over to the body of the Ferengi.

"We have all we want, ask instead, what it is that you require." Things were gradually making less and less sense. Davison noticed that his exit had now been blocked by the man and the phaser was still discreetly being trained on him.

"The box, on my desk," Davison stuttered. The stranger looked confused. "The access key will open the safe behind the picture over there," Orrin pointed nervously.

There was a distinct lack of interest in the offer.

"We didn't come here to rob you Orrin," said the stranger, placing a most unwelcome hand on Davison's shoulder, "would you take us for thieves?" What had they come here for then, they still hadn't told him.

Davison edged over to his, now vacant, chair.

"No?"

"We want to help you, you want someone out of the way, so do we." Orrin sat down, he felt more in control here, but it was as much of an illusion as the post meridian time on the desk clock.

"And what if I'm not interested?" The question was answered simply.

"We'll go." Davison wasn't convinced. "All we ask is that you keep out of the affairs of others, don't ever come to the station again." There was menace in the man's tone.

"If you can get rid of Alborell Fraser, you'll be doing me a great service," Davison looked again at the corpse that his eyes had been trying to avoid, "but, if all your methods are as extreme," the man placed his hands on Davison's desk and lowered the volume of his voice.

"Remember what I said about the affairs of others Davison, don't make yourself part of the problem." Orrin clasped the side of his seat.

The two men walked into the doorway and checked the corridor.

"Wait," said Orrin, "what about the body." He pointed to the lifeless form of Kirik.

"I think it makes quite a nice wall decoration, and it'll be a reminder to you," said the man, without humour, "goodbye."

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

There had been a great deal of investigation in the last few hours, into the attack on Alborell Fraser. As was customary in such cases on Starbase 106, Anson Jacs' name had been mentioned more than a few times, but no one could pin anything on him. Whoever the assailant was, had beamed out well before the station security teams had arrived. Starfleet were, as always, looking into the matter.

Fraser's injuries were superficial and Jannel had suffered nothing more than a few bruises. The attack had certainly shaken them up, but Fraser was still determined to carry on with his scheme. If anything, it was more important than ever. He had already spoken to Rex and Ricky, whose names were a little less prominent in Carter's report and who were therefore allowed to come and go much as they pleased, and made the tightly timed arrangements that would ensure Jacs' downfall. All that remained was for some request to be made that would put both Alborell and Jannel on the Cougar at the appropriate time. What this request would be was something that Fraser hadn't quite figured out, but as time grew shorter, and Captain Fraser grew more desperate, an inspirational idea came to him.

Though rarely idle, the long docking arms and tractor beams that moved the storage containers around in the heart of Starbase 106 were sometimes still. The cargo area's systems worked, not as regularly as they once had, but considering their age, they did so very well. With the advent of the replicator the amount of freight and cargo that Starbase 106 handled was on a steady decline and so new equipment was no longer a priority. There promised to be sufficient demand for the system to remain in operation for the next couple of years, however.

The fragile system was almost completely automated and it was not uncommon for whole sections of the vast, three-dimensional stockyard to be totally unsupervised. This was one of those occasions. Rex Drake held that fact in his mind as the small thruster pack that had been strapped onto his back fired its rockets in a short test sequence. Ricky had satisfied himself that the Engineer's pack had been fixed on properly and told Drake not to worry. Anyway, it wasn't really flying, all they were doing was floating in the weightless centre of the station. Ricky had even connected the pack to a remote device so that any serious deviation from the intended course by Rex could be corrected.

The problem with engineers was that they invariably made bad pilots, of anything. Any doubts that Ricky had about Drake's ability were confirmed as soon as Rex was set into motion. Drake's attempt to fly the short distance from the service door to a nearby container went badly. He soon developed a high speed spin with the port thruster and was quickly approaching, at increasing velocity, the side of another container that looked a lot tougher than Rex.

"Arms out! Put your damn arms out!!" Shouted Ricky as he tried to get Drake under control. Rex took some time to understand what Ricky was shouting about and eventually threw both arms outwards, immediately slowing his rate of rotation. There was a tense moment as Ricky checked around to see if anyone had heard him, but the way was still very much clear.

For the rest of the short journey, Ricky steered both his own and Rex's pack. This was not easy but it saved a lot of time. The longer they spent messing about out here, the more chance that they would be seen, and they definitely did not want that. The reassuring thud as they hit and latched onto the side of the transport, cued a string of obscenities from Drake. Ricky ignored his ungrateful accomplice and pushed him through the hatchway as it slid open. Ricky had got them in, now Rex had to his part.

Once inside the dark and cold container the hatchway was closed and the torches were turned on. Two thousand square metres of empty container stretched before them. This, comparatively small, transport container craft was the means to an end, hopefully Anson Jacs' end. The duo wasted no time in getting to the container's control deck, which was no more than a horizontal metal plate with a rail around it, welded onto the far wall of the container some five metres up from the floor. Rex positioned himself at the controls for the transporter system whilst Ricky set about finding the power terminal that would hopefully get the thing moving. The whole experience was fated to be a bad one for Ricky; this was where he had come in. If it all worked out like Fraser had planned it, that memory would be more easily forgotten. Some chance.

It didn't take long for Ricky to get the systems running. Gravity slowly came on and snapped their feet firmly to the deck, the lights and secondary life support soon followed. Rex meanwhile had made the necessary adjustments to the cargo transporter. All they had to hope for now was that Fraser and Jannel got to where they were supposed to be. Ricky edged the transport container forward, away from its dock and towards the outer perimeter of the base.

"I can't see a damn thing, Rex any chance of getting some scanners working," Ricky inquired, peering uncomfortably through the narrow slit that served as a cockpit window. Rex looked around, silenced momentarily by the lack of systems.

"I don't think they had much of an idea about sensors when they threw this can together," said Drake, in as near to an apology as Ricky was ever going to get.

"What about the inhibitor field?" The Engineer glanced at the controls.

"It's ready to go." It was this piece of equipment that Ricky had least faith in. The field was designed to prevent the explosives that the Cougar was carrying from arming accidentally due to outside interference. It's operation was even more shaky than the grenades themselves.

The transport drifted out to one of the hundred or so exit ports built into the side of the station.

"Hold on, I think we've got another problem," said Ricky dolefully. He pointed out of the tiny view port, "the control centre's going to want to know who we are and where we're going."

"Wasn't Fraser supposed to be taking care of that?" Asked Rex.

"I can't remember, I think we kind of forgot to work it into the plan," Ricky frowned.

"So now what do we do?" Drake quizzed.

"We'll think of something." Ricky started to think.

The shuttlecraft Indus, and its single occupant, flew out of the shuttlebay of the USS Morgan and made its way across the clear open space of the stations outer lanes. At what was considered to be a safe distance, the communications channel was opened and secured. The face of Anson Jacs flickered onto the viewscreen. Jacs was first to speak.

"I was starting to wonder if you were having second thoughts Commander," He began. The Commander insisted that he had come as soon as he could safely get away. "This is going to be our one chance Anderson, Fraser may seem like a fool but he is not, whatever he's out there to do, stop him." The Commander remained silent and concentrated on flying the shuttle. "I won't be contacting you again," Anderson nodded in acknowledgement. The image of Anson Jacs disappeared and was replaced by the targeting scanner. The Cougar was in sight.

The freighter Lars Opus concealed the small transport container easily and unknowingly, providing it with the cover it needed to escape the station. Ricky skilfully guided the container along at the side of the larger ship, then quickly turned off to follow the contour of station.

"I think I'm beginning to get the hang of this," he boasted. Rex didn't appear too impressed.

"We'll have to get pretty close to the Cougar."

"But not so close that we set off the proximity beacons," countered Ricky. There was still nothing to show that Fraser had managed to get off the Morgan.

The tiny vessel drifted to a stop as close as it dared to Fraser's ship.

"Station keeping at five kilometres," announced Ricky, who was starting to enjoy being a pilot. Rex Drake looked to see if anyone was around, but apart from a couple of old Starliners, taking part in the pageant race, they were alone.

"So now what do we do?" It was beginning to look like Fraser had finally come up against a problem that he couldn't beat.

The container hung there silently, almost unnoticeably, both its occupants looking around for either trouble or Fraser, or both. Drake saw the running lights of the Cougar come on and told Ricky.

"He's here," he called to Ricky, now waiting in the large open space of the containers cargo compartment.

"Just be ready, remember, Fraser said to time it exactly." Ricky wouldn't relax until the crates of explosives that they needed were off the Cougar and on the transport container.

It wasn't the fact that he was stealing his own explosives from his own ship, now out of bounds, with a transport that had been stolen from under Starfleet's nose, while a Starfleet officer stood at the other end of the deck, distracted by Fraser's bogus instructions, that made Alborell smile; it was the thought that it could all be crazy enough to work. Anson Jacs could never guess at the complexity of the plan, layer upon layer of ill-conceived and last-resort stumbling, and that was what Alborell Fraser liked about it.

While Jannel sat on the bridge Fraser pretended to check over the crates of grenades. The two security officers that had come with them didn't know, or care, what any of this was about, but they had been told, wisely, to watch the Captain. Commander Carter had been all too careful to warn the crew of the Morgan what to expect, as if they needed warning. Captain Normic knew what Fraser was like better than anybody. It looked to Fraser as though he had found his vocation at last, somewhere that his talents were not wasted, unfortunately it was a career he could not realistically continue. Maybe it would end sooner than he expected, as the shuttlecraft that arrived, unannounced, just as Ricky and Rex were finishing their task, Fraser gave a genuine look of surprise. He hadn't expected Commander Anderson to drop by.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Over the years, Alborell had seen numerous ships, each had had their own particular function and each had been designed with that function in mind. People, Fraser had noticed, were not unlike starships. They all seemed to have something that motivated them, objectives that they sought to achieve. One could understand a great deal about someone's actions once their objectives were known, just as looking at the design of a ship revealed its purpose. Commander Anderson, in this analogy however, had always been puzzle to Alborell. His actions and his nature sometimes did not seem related, and someone like that was usually trying to hide something.

Alborell knew what it was as soon as he had tried to kill him in the park.

"So it was you, I wasn't sure but now I know," Fraser realised, a little to late. Anderson obviously wasn't in the mood for conversation. His only words since arriving had been to send the two security officers over to the shuttlecraft, to wait for his return. Quite how Anderson was going to explain the absence of both Alborell Fraser and his female companion Jannel Hawkins was something that Fraser doubted that he would discover.

"It's time to do the job properly Fraser," said Anderson, waving a hand that was a clear signal for Fraser and Jannel to move towards the back of the cargo bay. The phaser in Anderson's hand meant that they had little choice but to comply.

"You're in this with Jacs, you gave him the plans for the Daystar project, these grenades were a failed Starfleet experiment." Anderson recognised the irony of it all.

"And now the AMP grenades that I helped create are going to get rid of you, and this ship."

"And any evidence of your involvement." Fraser was finally beginning to figure it out. All too late.

Anderson kept waving the phaser until the three of them were at the back of the bay, next to the console in the bulkhead.

"I assume that I can operate engineering controls from here?" Asked Anderson, with wholly unnecessary politeness. Fraser nodded, wondering whether Ricky and Rex had managed to get away unnoticed. Rex would carry on with the plan now, even if Fraser wasn't around to see it.

As Anderson tinkered with the controls, Fraser considered his options. There was an anti-intruder system on the Cougar, but the anesthezine had been used up in a previous stunt, and it was expensive to replace. Besides, he was in no position to operate it. Instead, Fraser decided to implement another of his, increasingly improvised and unpredictable, ideas.

"Wait," he said, not yet sure what he was going to say.

"Is there a problem?" Commander Anderson looked agitated.

"No, go on." Anderson looked back at the switches in front of him, wondering if he should continue.

"It's just that," Fraser edged a little closer to the controls.

"What?" Commander Anderson had an idea that Alborell was trying to trick him.

"Dak'eh shu tre'll," said Fraser, hoping that the patchy computer was at least consistent.

It was. The fire suppression system shot out jets of gas and forced everyone onto the deck. Anderson fired randomly into the cloud while Fraser and Jannel ran for the other end of the bay. Anderson quickly realised that firing shots around the place was probably not a good idea. He wanted to destroy the Cougar, but not while he was on it. There was something else he could do though.

Waiting until the gas had cleared, and seeing that Fraser and the girl had gone, Anderson aimed his phaser at a section of the bulkhead, setting the weapon for disintegrate. He could see the baffle plates bolted to the hull, covering the power conduit, and he knew how little it would take to melt them. Once the metal was out of the way and the air got into the power system a plasma fire started. That would be enough to set the explosives off in a few minutes, now he could make his exit.

The Commander slotted his phaser into its holster and walked to the centre of the cargo bay. He reached for his arm-band, to initiate the transporter on the shuttle. Nothing happened. He tried it again and looked down at the device. A warning light informed him that the deflector shield safety interlock had been engaged; Fraser had put the Cougar's shields up.

Jannel ran into Engineering and looked across the many incomprehensible controls. There was little time, Fraser had informed her of that much.

"Computer, which are the gravity controls?" there was a pause while the computer processed the query.

"Gravity Control Is Situated In The Engineering Section." Jannel decided it would be quicker to look for herself.

"How do I turn it off?" She frantically searched the control boards in front of her.

"On-Board Gravity Systems Are Maintained During All Standard Operations." It occurred to Jannel that the system controls would be somewhere away from the main panel.

"Turn off the gravity!" Jannel was losing her patience.

"Gravity Control Is Situated On Panel E8 Section 12." The computer said finally. Jannel looked around, hoping to make the information useful. She eventually found the dial with numbers written around the outside, running from zero to three. The dial felt heavy and moved with the unease that accompanied disuse. The fact that a whole bank of warning lights lit up on the board above her head meant that it worked, but not in the way that she had intended.

When Fraser felt himself collapsing to the floor, he realised that something had gone wrong. He was further dismayed by the strong sensation of heat welling up in the deck underneath him. Anderson, now pressed onto the floor of the cargo bay, had aimed his phaser up at the ceiling and was attempting to melt through the metal. His intention was clear, but Fraser the advantage of foresight.

Jannel tried to lift herself up from the deck that was pulling her down, but she was rapidly losing her strength. She had found that she could reach the rail fixed to the control panel's housing, but further than that, where the dial for the gravity controls resided, she could not manage. She rested for the moment. Similar problems faced Commander Anderson, who could now see the fire that he had started spreading out along the wall and towards the crates. He had punched a sizable hole in the upper deck, but could not be sure that Fraser was out of the way completely. Anderson crawled slowly to the elevator. The lift immediately began to rise as Anderson swung first his legs and then the rest of his body onto the floor of the car.

The door swished open to reveal the upper deck, it looked empty, but Anderson was struggling to keep his head raised. He crawled to the bridge door, which opened as soon as he approached. Fraser was waiting. He didn't have the advantage that he had hoped for; Alborell knew how every officer hated zero-g training, Fraser had been one of a small minority who actually enjoyed it, he had even taken up zero-g tennis. If Jannel didn't sort out the gravity setting soon, Fraser realised, things could get very bad for him.

Anderson saw Fraser's attack coming and somehow dodged it, but Fraser launched another. It took him all of his strength simply to move, least of all grapple with Anderson, but he had plenty of fight left in him yet.

"I thought it was only the Captain that went down with the ship Commander," Fraser quipped.

"Lower the shields Fraser, we can all get out," the Commander suggested, somewhat transparently. Fraser kicked the phaser from Anderson's grasp.

"I don't think I could reach the controls now even if I wanted to." Anderson tried to reach the weapon.

"I'll blow every panel on this bridge if I have to." Fraser caught Anderson's leg and tried to hold him back.

"Soon, it won't matter, we're only minutes away from making Regal a binary system."

"You can't blame me for trying." Anderson got his hand on the handle of the phaser.

Fraser kicked Anderson's shin as hard as he could, a manoeuvre worthy of any Klingon, he thought. They were now near the hole that Anderson had burned in the floor, Fraser seized the opportunity.

As Anderson tried to sit upright, readying his aim, Fraser launched himself at the Commander, hitting him in the side. He fell with startling rapidity, right into the hole that he had created. Fraser watched as Anderson disappeared through the floor, into the sparks and smoke below. A loud crashing noise followed as he landed, very heavily, on some cargo.

It was then that the gravity began to return to normal, Jannel had regained her strength and had reached the dial. She had also remembered why she had had cause to interfere with it in the first place, and the gravity was shut down completely within seconds. Fraser made for the lift; he had to see how bad the damage to the Cargo Bay was.

Considering the possibility that he may have to abandon his ship, the Captain left the elevator and looked over at the floating and immobile body of the Commander and the large green sparks from a fire that had spread through the power network and out of every available gap. This was going to take some sorting out.

"Jannel, are you still there?" Fraser shouted into the communications board. There was no answer, maybe the system was down, not surprising under the circumstances. Anderson's phaser drifted towards the Captain. He tried to make a grab for it, but instead sailed past it and hit the wall. Probably for the best, there had been enough damage down here already. Fraser decided to concentrate on the fire, if it was not put out soon the remaining explosives would blow them all to the far side of the sector.

Still in something of a state of shock, Commander Gerros Carter was finding her stay on the Trieste a frustrating one. With no crew and no ship, she was feeling more than a little redundant. She had heard news of Fraser's capture, all of her reports had been prepared and the inevitable trial had been run a hundred times in her head. Her sleepless nights had also been fuelled by concern for her ship. The Liberator would need some considerable time before it could be brought back to Starbase. Carter had turned down the option of a tow, it was the ultimate indignity. After what had happened at Eros that was the last thing she needed. Her superiors had agreed to the decision, the Liberator was not exactly a vital cog in the well oiled machine of the fleet.

Likewise, Benco Codey had been spared the dishonour of having his ship removed from his control. Since no one had found anything incriminating aboard his vessel, yet, and there was no direct evidence that he had actually been to Eros, he was innocent. This didn't mean that Commander Carter and Lieutenant Harno left him alone, however. They watched his every move and checked all of his navigation inputs and sensor readings, making a point of having someone near the command station at all times. As the ship came out of warp, it was Carter who watched the monitor over Benco's shoulder.

There were ships almost everywhere in the Regal system; around the main planet, near the station, at the starting point for the pageant race and at various other marker posts for holding and checking vessels coming in and going out. Gerros Carter looked for one ship in particular. The Cougar was just where she expected it to be; close enough to the station for transporter operations, but not close enough to pose a threat.

"Run a scan on her Mr. Harno, just for old times sake." Harno did as he had been ordered and tapped at the keys of the sensor controls. Anyone else would have found the results to be alarming, but to Harno, when it came to humans, nothing surprised him.

"Reading three people on board sir, two in the cargo bay, one approaching the bridge," he continued, unsure of the order in which the following information should be presented, "there is a transport container nearby and a Shuttlecraft from the USS Morgan." Carter glared at the screen.

"A shuttle," said Carter looking at the readings.

"There is more Commander," said Harno, looking up from the monitor, "the Cougar is on fire."

Fraser took another swipe from Anderson, who, to his surprise, had not been as badly injured as he had supposed. Fraser flew up against the wall. The heat was intense at this end of the bay. Anderson could see the flames crawling in all directions, more of the explosives had worked loose now. The loss of the ship seemed inevitable. Anderson struck one final blow to the Captain and pushed himself away. Fraser was gradually losing consciousness.

Anderson wondered if the shields had gone yet, most of the internal systems were failing, and he reached out a hand to activate the arm-band that he had strapped on, but discovered that somehow it had gone missing. He looked around. The cargo bay, it must be in the cargo bay somewhere. It was getting harder and harder to see. The lights had gone and the green and red light from the fires was the only illumination.

Fraser suddenly snapped out of his daze and pulled his arm away from a red hot panel on the wall. He couldn't see Anderson, and he had no way of getting off the ship without him, or at least not without that arm-band. Even the escape pod would be useless. The combined explosion of the explosives and the ship would be massive. Fraser realised that for once, there really was nothing he could do to save himself, or his ship.

In the dim glow at the other end of the bay Fraser caught sight of Anderson, floating. He couldn't be sure, but it looked as though there was someone with him.

"Looking for this Commander?" Fraser heard someone speak, and he recognised the voice immediately; Carter. In one hand she held a phaser, in the other was Anderson's arm-band. Anderson was at a loss for words, nothing he could say would make any difference. Whatever else happened, it was over.

Carter was not wholly confident in her ability to stop Anderson. Despite the presence of a phaser in her hand and Harno at her side, there were going to be no shots fired here. Having seen the state that the Cougar was in, Carter had decreed not to make it worse, and so, when Commander Anderson lunged towards her in an attack, she recoiled in defence. It was a move that Anderson had not anticipated and the hand with the phaser that he had expected to be aimed at him, was out of reach. Instead of grappling for the weapon, Anderson found himself spinning over the top of Commander Gerros Carter and past the unprepared Harno.

It was by mere chance that Anderson was somehow propelled on the same trajectory as the emergency transporter arm-band that he so desperately wanted. It had left Carter's hand as she had moved back, knocking into some cases of cargo, and it was now on its way to the far wall where a particularly severe blaze raged. Anderson could feel the heat from the fire, even from where he was, but the arm-band was his only way off the ship. If he could reach it before it fell into the burning plasma he could activate the transporter on the shuttle and leave.

"Are you alright Commander?" Harno said with concern.

"Just shoot Lieutenant," Gerros wheezed. Harno took aim.

The target, Anderson, disappeared briefly behind more floating debris, but he was still on course, escape was the only thing on his mind, he'd worry about the rest later. He had set the runabout for warp, just in case, and it was possible that the Cougar would go down with everyone else aboard. That would help to tie up a few loose ends. That Carter had to die was unfortunate, she was a good officer. He was just metres away now, he felt the heat of the fire on his face, ever more intense, but the arm-band was within reach. He snatched up the remote control for the Indus' transporter by its strap, now he just had to hit the button. The heat was almost unbearable. He fumbled for the large red button and tried not to feel the intense pain. All too late he realised his fate. As numb fingers clasped around the unyielding casing of the arm-band, the full effects of the fire turned Anderson's world into a reddening inferno.

The sight of his demise was too much for the eyes of those nearby, but as the screams of Commander Anderson died, the sensitive ears of the Icosian security officer picked up a new sound.

"Commander, engines, I think we're going into warp."

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

It was enough for the moment, for Fraser to know that he was still alive, if rather bruised. He and Jannel, along with the others on the Cougar, had been beamed aboard the Trieste by Codey, just in time to watch the ship lurch forward into super-luminal flight. Jannel had not considered the possibility of rescue, but she had thought it her duty to get the Cougar away from the station before it exploded. She quickly realised how much devastation would have been caused as the warp trail ended in a rapidly expanding white dot, which died in an instant, returning the blackened field of stars to its familiar state. There followed a silence that no one dared break.

"Maybe I should have gone with her," said Fraser finally.

Carter, momentarily sympathetic, tried to reassure the injured Captain.

"I never believed in any of that stuff about a Captain going down with her ship." Fraser realised, his mind turning once again to the precarious plan that he and Codey had, that Carter was going to spoil everything. He'd lost his ship, now he had to make sure that he didn't lose his freedom. Unless Carter could be made to see that he was working towards the greater good, which he was, there was no chance of catching Anson Jacs. The conventional, Starfleet, approach just wouldn't work.

Jannel took the medical kit from the wall.

"Commander," said Lieutenant Harno, who was back at, what he now considered to be, his post, "I believe you will find this interesting." Carter turned away from the Captain, who had just got around to noticing that he was injured, and walked over to the sensors. "It appears to be a small transport container, with a cargo of explosives of exactly the same type as those we just found on Mr. Fraser's ship." Fraser heard the security officer say.

Jannel Hawkins looked at the cuts and burns on Fraser's body and tried to decide which one to tend first. Fraser, meanwhile, tried to think of a way of distracting the Commander long enough for Rex and Ricky to get away. Carter walked back to the central area of the Trieste's upper deck.

"Well Captain, you certainly haven't learned a great deal since our last encounter, or did you figure that no one would notice the explosives that you're taking back to the station?" Codey was starting to look nervous.

"Commander," said Fraser in a pleaful response, "there is a reason." Gerros didn't look convinced. The fact that Alborell had just lost his ship only showed that he was more incompetent than she first suspected.

"I doubt that if you explained it that I would find it a pleasant experience." Carter had had enough of Fraser's foolish mutterings for one lifetime. "If you really do want to say something though, I can record it for submission at your trial." The Commander turned away and looked at Harno, who was now plotting an intercept course for the transport vessel and waiting for Carter's order to go after it. Jannel ran the autosuture over a cut in Fraser's arm.

"Maybe my trial won't be all that important if my plan works out," the Captain explained. Carter turned back, her mind was once again racing with possibilities. Fraser surely wasn't still scheming?

"Commander, I recommend that we pursue the container vessel," interjected Harno, ever more eager to stop whatever Alborell had started.

"Hold on Lieutenant," said Commander Carter, still trying to decide which was a bluff and which was true, "what do you mean Fraser?"

"Well where do you think those explosives came from?"

"I've got some idea," Gerros began to wonder.

"So you don't think it's any coincidence that it just happened to be an officer from the Morgan that tried to kill me?"

"What do you know about that?" Said Carter. She'd spent some of the trip over here looking up the information on the 'Daystar' project. It was strictly classified and restricted to Starfleet Security personnel only.

"Captain, I believe that the other vessel, though slower, may be able to evade us if it reaches the station," said Harno. The Commander again silenced the security officer. "Anderson sold the plans for the AMP grenades to Anson Jacs."

The enigma suddenly became clear.

"Anderson and Jacs, so that's the connection," she should have worked it out at the time, but she had other things on her mind, "but can it be proven?" Gerros asked.

"Just give it about five hours and you'll have proof alright," said Fraser, smiling broadly.

Carter knew well the extent of Anson's influence in this Sector. Indeed, Gerros Carter had been part of station security on Starbase 106 during her early career. Things, she had noted, hadn't changed much. He was still going to be as difficult to catch as he had always been.

"You don't expect me to believe that you're wholly innocent in all of this Fraser," said the Commander, her thoughts turning back to the task in hand. Carter expected that Fraser would have got away with a lot more if she hadn't turned up when she did.

"I could have done a lot worse," Fraser confirmed, "just trust me for once Carter, you won't be sorry."

"Commander?" Interrupted Harno.

"Hold this position mister Harno." Carter still wasn't ready to commit herself, even if Fraser was just trying to stall her. "After everything you've done, you expect me to trust you?" Carter wondered why she'd picked those words, usually by now she'd have had somebody like Fraser locked firmly in the brig.

"All right, you don't even have to trust me, just wait." Fraser knew how slim the chances were of that happening. "You've already got me, what difference will a few hours make?" Carter's training was telling her that this was a trick, but her intuition was telling her to trust him. Her mind was telling her that she had nothing left to lose. What harm would waiting do?

Harno wasn't sure if Carter's hesitation constituted 'mental instability', but she was like no commanding officer that he had ever known. The container had almost escaped the short range sensors of the Trieste, although Codey had decreased their efficiency before Carter and her escort had boarded the ship. Harno, however, decided not to interfere, he had been given his orders.

"Let that craft go now and be on patrol tomorrow morning, you'll get Anson Jacs and me." Carter was unsure, her confidence had taken some knocks recently and she remembered well what had happened last time she had let Alborell Fraser talk her into something. Whichever way she looked at it, she shouldn't make the same mistake again, but after the last week, she couldn't do worse.

CHAPTER FORTY

It had taken some effort to for Orrin to get himself up and dressed this morning. He was still not sure about the arrangements that he had left with the men that had visited him the day before, they had been so vague. He'd gone over everything he'd said again and again, but couldn't remember what he'd agreed to, anything they'd said it seemed.

If anything happened to Fraser, would he get the blame? His intention had only been to frighten Fraser, to make him think before he tried to blackmail him, or sell on any information that he might have gained, that was how the 'tough guys' played the game, unfortunately Orrin had learned, to his cost, that this particular game was one that he wasn't very good at playing. Hopefully, when this was all in the past, he could just go back to being a businessman. He'd think carefully before trying to get one over on the competition again.

Orrin put his briefcase down, inserted his ID card into the slot and keyed his personal code into the keypad by his office door. The lights illuminated the room as the door moved aside.

"Come in, Davison," said a voice. Davison thought about calling security, but considered it unwise as the figure sitting behind his desk was quite obviously armed.

Davison walked slowly forwards into the room and heard the door swish behind him. The intruder on this occasion was alone, Orrin was pleased to see that there were less dead bodies in the room this time.

"What's the matter," said Rex, "weren't you expecting me?" Orrin wished he'd improved security since the last time this happened, but he hadn't wanted to raise suspicion from his superiors.

"What do you want, why can't you leave me alone?" Orrin asked. Drake tossed a small transparent disc onto the surface of the table, which Orrin noticed had several burn marks in it where Rex had been stubbing out his cigarettes.

"All we want is what we're owed," Rex declared. Orrin struggled to remember, then recognised the disc as his own, the one he had given to Alborell Fraser.

"Fraser sent you?" Orrin picked up the disc. "You mean you actually want me to pay you?" It seemed likely that he did.

"What do you think?" Rex affirmed, "I don't go breaking into offices for fun you know, not these days anyhow." Davison was, yet again, struck dumb with disbelief. "I mean, I'm not as young as I used to be and that roof has to be twenty metres or more." Orrin looked at the disc and checked that the encryption seal was still unbroken.

"You actually, still want me, to actually pay, still?" Rex was becoming as tired of Davison as he was of Ricky.

The Engineer walked over to the edge of the desk and grabbed Davison's sleeve.

"I still want you to pay, yes," he said simply, but loudly.

"But, Starfleet have become involved, there's going to be a trial,"

"We did what you asked us to do, at great risk to ourselves I may say, and we came back, sure, we're not where we were supposed to be, but that's not important, you've got what you wanted, now give us the other half of the money," said Rex, setting out, as he saw it, the bare bones of the matter in the simplest form possible. Davison was starting to get that feeling in his head again, the one that medicine had supposedly cured.

"You can't threaten me, I don't owe you anything." Orrin focused on the phaser, pointed at him, and the smoke drifting up from the stick of tobacco in the strange man's mouth.

"That disc is the only copy of the data that we have, check the seal if you don't believe me," Rex lied. Orrin worked his way back to the door.

"I'm not going to submit to blackmail," Orrin blundered, "I didn't want him killed, just scared." Rex realised that a new strategy was required.

Rex snatched the disc from Davison's hand and slotted it into the computer on his desk. The screen immediately displayed the data that Fraser had gathered on Eros, as Orrin had originally instructed. Davison suddenly latched on to the familiar. The sets of figures and charts on the computer were home territory for him, he knew what he was dealing with. He wanted this information. Drake whipped the disc out of the slot.

"If you want it, you've got to pay for it!" Rex dangled the disc in front of Davison. "I trust you can remember the price?" Orrin realised that the advantage that this information brought him was going to cost. It didn't matter, bidding for Eros, knowing exactly what it was worth, while his competitors simply guessed, would reap his company a huge reward, and a promotion for him.

The money in the safe was almost gone, but there was just enough to pay what was owed, plus extra at Drake's insistence.

"Count it," ordered Rex. Drake began to count out the credit pieces onto the desk. He was just about half way through when the door suddenly opened to reveal three security officers standing in the corridor outside. For a long few seconds, Orrin and Rex were at some loss for an explanation.

"Mr. Davison?" The least menacing officer, clearly the communicative one of the group, said.

"Yes," said Davison, unsure if he still wanted security or not.

"Are you alright?" Davison looked at the guard, the guard looked at Drake, Drake looked at the money, Davison looked at his briefcase. "We were just passing by, we noticed that you'd left your briefcase in the corridor," the talkative guard passed Orrin his case, scarcely noticing the money scattered on the table, and left.

When he was satisfied that the payment was all in order, Rex piled the money into his pockets and walked over to the door.

"Don't worry Davison, this is the last you'll hear from me or Fraser," Drake assured.

"I hope so," said Orrin, hopefully. Rex Drake found leaving Qualtec's main building much easier than getting in to it. He caught the shuttle back to the Starbase, and set about finding the largest bank that he could.

Recalling Fraser's instructions, he opened an account under his own name, emptying his pockets to make the first deposit, then asked where the nearest comm point was. Inserting his newly acquired credit card into the slot, he took out the PADD that Alborell had given him listing every mining company with an office no more than ten light years away. Not only had the Liberators computers been useful for breaking the encryption on Orrin's disc, but also for finding out who the rivals were that Qualtec was so eager to beat.

Checking off the list as he went, Rex called each one. He was surprised at how many of the twelve or so companies, all smaller than Qualtec, took up his offer to supply them with information, especially when he told them who else had it. Of course, it was only fair that he should be rewarded for his trouble, and by the end of the morning the card registered a considerable increase in funds. It had, remarked Rex Drake to himself, been a most productive morning.