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In Bound

Posted on Wed Dec 30th, 2020 @ 3:04pm by Lieutenant Commander Elliot Glenn Dr & Captain Mikoto Misaka

1,215 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Cleaning Up
Location: USS Clyde, Danube Class
Timeline: Current

"In Bound"
Captain Mikoto Misaka, Commanding Officer
Lieutenant Commander Dr Elliot Glenn, Chief Counsellor
feat. Ensign No N'Aim, Flight Controller [Starbase 8]
Cockpit, USS Clyde

Glenn was en route to his new posting, aboard the Danube-class runabout that he had been assigned to ferry him and his belongings to the rendezvous with the Galaxy class starship to which he was now to be assigned. He had also been assigned a pilot from Starbase Eight - one Ensign No N'Aim - who would have the misfortune of returning to the starbase alone. He sat with his pilot in the cockpit, although he wasn't in any way participating in the piloting of the craft. He sat with his feet up, trying to complete a sudoku, whilst also being in easy reach of his scotch.

"I'm telling you, Ensign," Glenn offered to his pilot, "one scotch won't kill you lad."

The Ensign merely replied, "I'm sure it won't, sir."

Elliot snorted. Clearly this Ensign had no sense of fun.

"We're approaching Veridian, 'Commander," the Ensign finally reported, after several days of travel. "I'm dropping us out of warp..."

Main Bridge
Deck 1, USS Ermiana

"Captain, we have a Starfleet Runabout in bound. They've just dropped out of warp at the edge of the system" the officer at Tactical reported. Mikoto nodded in response, that should be the ships Chief Counselor transferring from Starbase Eight.

"Have them land in Shuttlebay Three. Also send them an encrypted warning about the Hostile Klingon vessel in the area. We don't want them getting into a firefight against a Vor'cha class attack cruiser" Mikoto ordered.

"Aye sir. Relaying information now"

Cockpit, USS Clyde

"'Commander," Ensign N'Aim called out, spinning slightly in his chair. "We've got clearance to land at Shuttlebay Three, but there's a problem."

"Of course there is," Glenn replied, sitting up, and putting down his puzzle for now. Picking up his glass, he came to the front of the cockpit, standing next to N'Aim. "What is it?"

"We have a Vor'cha class attack cruiser in the area, and they're hostile."

"They're Klingons, N'Aim," Glenn replied, taking a sip from the scotch, "of course they're hostile."

"What should I do sir?" the Ensign asked.

Glenn breathed out a heavy sigh, took a deep breath, and then breathed out another heavy sigh. "Indulge me for a second, Ensign, and lets imagine that you are piloting a shuttlecraft or a runabout of some kind, taking a Counsellor to their new posting." This was certainly not a stretch. "And let's say, hypothetically speaking, there wasn't a report of Klingons in the area. What would you do next?"

This seemed like an odd thing to imagine, considering that it was almost their exact scenario. With a note of confusion in his voice, he replied "I'd approach shuttlebay three?"

The statement wasn't a question, but his tone definitely made it sound like one. Glenn knew that if he were reading the words the Ensign had just spoken, then he'd definitely have read the question mark on the end. "So let's do that then," the Counsellor ordered, not at all sounding like an order, "send our acknowledgments to Ermiana." With that, he threw back his scotch, and head to the replicator on the starboard side, to recycle his glass. "I'm going to head aft, check on my things. Give me a buzz when we come aboard."

"Aye, sir," N'Aim replied, not entirely sure what "a buzz" was in this context.

Elliot had been in the aft compartment for merely a few short seconds, when he felt the ship shake. It was a delicate, gentle shaking, but a shaking nonetheless. Not something that he had felt before on a starship. "N'Aim," he called out, as he hit his comm. badge, "what are you doing out there?"

=A= It's the Klingon, sir =A= the Ensign replied, his nervousness dripping through the comm channel. =A= They've just decloaked directly in front of us =A=.

He turned back immediately, coming back out into the cockpit, as the huge Vor'cha class attack cruiser sat directly in their way. "Ok... that's probably a problem." He took a seat in the co-pilot's chair, checking the status board on the screen in front of him. "They're just sitting there. Weapons are armed, but not locked on us. They've got shields raised, and they're scanning us." He turned to the Ensign then, "can a sensor scan spoil single malt?" Before the Ensign scrambled to answer the question, he said "scratch that, I'd still drink it anyway, let's take evasive action."

"Pattern sir?"


"Evasive pattern, sir?"

"I don't know, you're the pilot," Glenn pointed out, "just fly around them." As the runabout moved off, to avoid the cruiser, the two could see that the Klingon's were moving too.

Directly in front of the Runabout a Vor'cha class cruiser decloaked. A few green shots from its forward disruptors narrowly missing the runabouts shields, essentially a warning shot.

"They've fired on us?" N'Aim exclaimed loudly.

"No shit, Ensign!"

"Starfleet Runabout. You shall lower your shields and be inspected!" a Klingon voice called through the comm system.

"Inspected my ass," Glenn replied, with a snort. He looked to his right, at Ensign N'Aim, who clearly had the expression on his face that said that he was glad that the return channel wasn't open. He grinned to himself, before hitting the comm. panel. He ensured to open a wide channel to his reply, so that it would be heard aboard the Ermiana. "Klingon vessel, this is the Federation Runabout USS Clyde. Under the articles of the Khitomer Accords, you are hereby denied the right to carry out your inspection of this vessel. You have no jurisdiction here."

The Klingon laughed. "I don't need it. The house of Duras does not answer to The Federation. If you are smuggling weapons you shall be destroyed!". The channel cut off.

Glenn looked again to N'Aim. "Are you smuggling any weapons that I should know about?"

"No sir..."

The Klingon ship fired again, this time properly impacting the shields of the runabout.

Glenn gripped tightly to the rail around the console. "I thought that you were taking evasives, Ensign?"

Suddenly, swooping over the runabout the Galaxy Class Starship Ermiana emerged. Several shots from its forward phaser array striking the Klingon Vor'cha.

"Klingon vessel this is Captain Misaka. Stand down and leave our shuttle alone. I've had enough of you crap already these past few days. Back off or I will not hesitate to send you to whatever afterlife you believe in!" A womans voice, sharp in tongue and her tone frustrated if not angry called out over subspace comms. The Klingons cloaked and disappeared whilst the Ermiana took a defensive stance.

Elliot grinned, muttering "that's pretty badass..."

"If you say so, sir," N'Aim replied, not really realising that Glenn wasn't actually speaking to him.

The Counsellor sighed, deeply. He'd be glad to see the back of the pilot. He hit the comm panel again, "Clyde to Ermiana. Thanks for the assist. Permission to come aboard?"

"Permission granted. Don't hesitate Clyde, we don't know if they'll come back and I don't want to lower the shields for too long" Misakas voice replied.

"Acknowledged," Elliot replied, before turning to the Ensign. "You heard the Cap'n, put your foot down..."


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