Patrol in the triangle was like every patrol everywhere in the history of patrols. Mostly boring, with small episodes of excitement that turned out to be nothing more than space-dust and sensor ghosts, but all with the tension that something could happen at any moment. Something that the ship would have to respond to instantly.

Raan was on the bridge again, mostly because the big chair was far more comfortable than the office chair in his ready room. Whoever had designed the interiors for the Rhode Island class had obviously designed everything around the frame of an average human male. Which meant that the desk was just that bit too low for Raan, a fact his bruised knees could attest to, and the chair creaked every time he moved. He’d have gotten Bennett to weld and reinforce it if he didn’t know that such a request would be a) met with laughter and b) cause an endless stream of abuse about his ass getting fat. Which it wasn’t.

He sighed as he leaned back in his chair, scrolling through performance reviews. Sometimes he didn’t know why he put up with Bennett’s attitude. An ensign walked by with a coffee mug, complete with sprinkles, and he did know why. Bennett was the kind of officer who would blow up bits of his own ship if it gave him a tactical advantage. He was a wildcard and the ace up Raan’s sleeve should the proverbial hit the fan.

“Sir, you wanted to know when we were coming up on the Nalorian asteroid belt?” One of the ensign’s currently on bridge duty spoke, making Raan look up from his reports.

“Yes indeed, thank you Ensign.” He closed down his reports and stood to pay attention to the main viewscreen, currently displaying the view of the system in front of them and other operational information. “Please call Kovash and Harrow to the bridge.”

“Aye sir.”

Raan’s eyes narrowed as he studied the asteroid field before them. It was one of the chokepoints on their patrol route that concerned him. Recent reports had several ships going missing in this area, but for some reason, no one had investigated the asteroid belt. He wasn’t yet sure whether that was a case of ‘out of sight, out of mind’ or if the authorities in the area really were that inept.

“Bring us in nice and steady,” he ordered, nodding as Kovash and Harrow walked onto the bridge. He wasn’t surprised at the speed both officers appeared. They were both experienced officers and would know they’d be required for a situation like this, exactly why he’d chosen them for his crew.

Tension mounted on the bridge as they made their way through the asteroid field, Kovash’s steady hand on the helm. Boulders the size of starbases tumbled past them slowly, the ‘landscape’ around them changing every second. Raan clasped his hands behind his back, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet.

Something was going to happen soon. He could feel it in the way the hairs on the back of his neck rose slightly like someone had blown across his skin.

“Contact on sensors, sir. We’re under attack.”

“Red alert, all hands to battle stations!” Raan ordered, his gaze locked on the viewscreen as he searched for any sign of the attacking ships. He spotted them moments later, a group of sleek and nimble pirate vessels darting between the asteroids towards them.

The ship was rocked by phaser fire, the deck rocking and rolling beneath Raan’s feet. “Bring us about and return fire,” he ordered, watching the viewscreen as the Resolute unleashed its weapons in response. “How are our shields doing?”

“Seventy percent and holding!”

He grinned. “Good enough. Kovash, gets us in the middle of them. Harrow, give ‘em hell.”

A chorus of ‘aye sirs’ reached his ears, and then the Resolute launched into a deadly dance, weaving and dodging between the enemy ships and the asteroids, dodging incoming blasts as they tried to land their own hits on the enemy. Two fell prey to Harrow’s precise targeting, lighting up the darkness with fiery blooms of destruction. No one had time to pay attention, their destruction marked only by the Resolute’s sensors as the ship sped by, turning to barrel between two asteroids tumbling toward each other.

Raan couldn’t help breathing in as the Resolute just made it through. The ship that had been following them wasn’t quite so lucky.

“Kovash, if you just ruined my paint job, you’re repainting the hull when we hit base again,” he warned.

“Just one left sir,” Harrow called out. “But it’s coming in on a direct collision course. Heading straight for us.”

“On screen,” Raan ordered. And sure enough, one of the enemy raiders was heading toward them at full speed. Sheer suicide, which made no sense. “Evasive manoeuvres. Harrow, spin them out.”

“Aye sir.”

As they watched, a volley from the Resolute’s phasers struck the incoming ship, catching it on the starboard side. It spun out of control, crashing into the side of an asteroid lumbering by. Several escape pods jettisoned like seeds blown in the wind.

“Any more on sensors?” Raan asked after a moment.

“Negative, sir. They’re all gone.”

He nodded. “Okay. Then haul in those escape pods, and let’s see why they decided that attacking us was a good idea.” 

The Resolute was not a large ship, which was why the pirate’s escape pods were being beamed directly into the shuttlebay. Leif and his security team stood waiting, armed to the teeth. He had no idea how the pirates were going to come out of those pods, but for his guess… they were going to come out swinging. So he’d broken out the heavy weaponry, a phase rifle held easily in his hands as he waited for the first of the pods to materialise on the deck.

They did, one after the other until there were twelve in three neat little lines.

“How many lifesigns to a pod?” he asked the transport technician by the door.

“Three to a pod, sir.”

A frown creased Leif’s brow. Three to a pod made thirty-six. He shot a glance at his team. They were all experienced and well trained, but there were only six of them. This could get hairy, fast.

“Computer, alert security detail beta to be on standby to deploy to the shuttlebay,” he ordered, just as the first of the escape pods started to open. The hiss of the hinges releasing one by one filled the air, and slowly the doors opened like flowers opening under the sun.

There was no movement. No-one climbed out of the escape pods. The skin on the back of Leif’s neck crawled in warning.

“Take cover!” He bellowed, a split second before the first shot rang out. A green bolt of energy sliced through the air, hitting the wall behind the crate he’d ducked behind. “Contact! Weapons fired! Return fire!”

His team responded slickly, all of them taking cover and returning fire as the pirates spilled from the escape pods.

Leif ducked out of cover to do the same, dropping two pirates as they climbed out of the pods. “Gunnar to the bridge. We have a slight situation in the shuttlebay. I’m not entirely sure these guys really needed a rescue.”

| Bridge

“Shots fired in the main shuttlebay,” Burton reported, having taken a position at the security console. “Bringing internal sensors online. There are thirty… one of them active. The security team are picking them off and keeping them contained, but there are too many of them.”

He looked up, catching Raan’s eyes. “They’re going to break through.”

Raan grunted. “Can we lock onto their signals and beam them directly to the brig.”

Burton’s lips compressed into a thin line. “Can only get ten of them in there. Sorry boss, we’re gonna need a bigger boat.”

“Get as many as you can in there,” Raan ordered, already turning for the door to the bridge. “And take the chair. I’m going to go down and give Gunnar a hand. Mason to Bennett,” he opened comms to the chief engineer as he walked off the bridge. “Grab a rifle. It got noisy in the shuttlebay and we have some unwelcome guests to deal with.”

“Aye, Gen… sir.” The reply came immediately. No questions asked. Raan known there wouldn’t be, not from Bennett. With Kovash it would have been twenty questions and a multiple choice quiz, but tell Bennett to grab a rifle or blow something up and he was there.

Raan stopped at a weapons locker en route, arming himself with quick and efficient movements. An ensign scuttled by, wide-eyed at the sight of the ship’s captain dressed for combat. A smile quirked his lips as he closed the locker and headed down the corridor.

He might wear a neatly pressed fleet uniform now, but back then he and his men, Bennett included, had spent months in trenches and on the front line. They’d fought with everything they had to hold the line against an enemy with no morals or scruples and one single aim; to wipe them out. His weapons had been his constant companions back then, and he still had them in a locked weapons trunk in his quarters. They were nothing compared the energy rifle he carried now, but they were still part of his history. They reminded him where he’d come from.

Bennett joined him at the corridor intersection between the turbolift and the shuttlebay. Like Raan, he was armed to the teeth. Raan’s eyebrow winged up at the spanner tucked into Bennett’s belt. “Expecting to do any repairs while we’re in there?”

“I might perform some cranial percussive maintenance.” The big engineer grinned and plucked the tool from his belt. Which was when Raan realised there was a weight welded to the other end, effectively turning the spanner into a crude but very effective hammer.

He blinked. “Carry on primus, carry on.”

“Aye general.”

They fell back into former roles as they sprinted for the shuttlebay, drawn by the sounds of a vicious fire-fight. They rounded the corner to find that Gunnar had pulled his team back to the shuttlebay doors, bottle-necking the pirate’s ingress and preventing them from gaining access to the rest of the ship. He caught sight of Raan and Bennett bearing down on them and looked surprised for a second.

Raan dropped into cover next to him, approval rolling through him that the security team had thought to drag some shuttle shielding out of the shuttlebay to give them cover as they kept the pirates contained.

“Talk to me, Gunnar,” Raan ordered. “What are we looking at?”

The chief security officer took a moment to fire back at two pirates trying to make a run for it before replying. “Total force of thirty-six. Ten got grabbed by a transporter, I assume the bridge and we’ve dropped six, so we have twenty left. And they’re tough bastard’s sir. Got some kind of adaptive body armour and their energy weaponry… it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Not even the experimental stuff Aniya looks at.”

Raan frowned. “Aniya?”

“Sorry, the ship’s armourer. She’s on security beta shift.”

“Can we talk about your love life later, big guy?” Bennett growled. “And let’s deal with these damn pirates.” 

“Kovash, Bring us about and get us out of this asteroid belt,” Hale ordered, returning to the big chair.

This whole situation had the hairs on the back of his neck raised so much they were practically doing the polka. The attack had been… odd. And the last thing they needed was to get caught with their pants down by a larger pirate force. As heavily armed as it was, the Resolute was still only one ship.

“Put a schematic of the ship on the main screen,” he ordered. “Show me deck four and the shuttle bay.”

“Aye sir,” came the reply, and the view on the screen changed.

“Okay, put the schematic on the left,” he ordered. “And show me a live feed from where our teams are on the right.”

The screen changed again, and he narrowed his eyes. It was easy to see that the security team was holding their own at the bottleneck they’d created at the shuttle bay doors, especially since they were backed up by Mason and Bennett. Hale hadn’t seen either in action before, but the sight of them sprinting down the corridor fully armed was probably enough to make lesser men run for cover.

But what concerned him more was that those doors weren’t the only way out of the shuttle bay. Before he could open his mouth, though, the comm crackled to life.

“Mason to the bridge. These assholes aren’t giving over down here, but they’ve only moved half their force into place here. Just enough to keep us interested. Find out what the others are doing.”

“Aye, sir,” he replied, surprised by the captain’s perception. How could Mason tell what the hell was going on down there? Even from here it looked like chaos, so he couldn’t imagine what it was like for them down there.

“Looks like we have two teams, both trying to gain access to the maintenance shafts. They’re on automatic lockout because we beamed into the shuttle bay.” Hale motioned to the ensign on the security console to cycle through the feed from the shuttle bay. Just in time to see the pirates not engaged in a firefight with the Resolute’s security at the door hauling cutting equipment out of one of the pods.

“Okay boss, yeah… they’re cutting through the hatches now,” he replied, annoyance rolling through him. He should have seen it coming. Those pirate ships had caved too quickly. They really should have stopped to examine the wreckage. He doubted they were in quite as bad a shape as they’d thought. “I suggest we vent the shuttlebay to space. Get rid of them that way.”

“No can do. They’ve got some kind of suppression tech down here.” The captain was quick to reply. “Okay, let’s assume they’re splitting up. One team will hit engineering, and the other is heading for the bridge. That way, even if one team fails, they’ve got a backup plan. Sound general quarters, deploy beta security team to the security center to ensure the ones we have stay locked up, and secure the bridge. Bennett and I will take engineering.”

The orders were delivered rapidly, but there was something about how Mason spoke that told Hale he was running. And damned if he hadn’t just covered everything Hale had been about to suggest.

“Aye sir,” he replied, his manner just as brisk and professional as he stood. For some reason, he’d adopted Mason’s habit of standing whenever there was action.

“Okay, you heard the man, secure the bridge. Lock us down,” he ordered. “Security team beta, secure the security office and ensure all prisoners remain in custody. Someone open me a ship-wide channel please… All hands, this is the executive officer. We have a foothold situation. General quarters have been ordered. I repeat, general quarters. Report to battle stations.”

The bridge became a well-oiled machine as the officers all moved to follow the given orders.

Hale focused on Kovash and the tactical team. “Okay, they found a way on the ship for some reason, and chances are they’ve got a way off if this goes sideways. I want long-range scans, check if we’ve got a tail. I want to know the instant anything pops up.”

“Aye sir,” Harrow replied, his deep voice calm. “Been running them since the initial attacks. I’ll pick up anything that’s coming after us.” 

Oh yeah, red was so his colour. Tavik Rennox smiled at himself in the mirror as he straightened his collar, admiring his reflection. 

It was a new shirt, one he’d been holding back just in case he got a date with Nyla from engineering. And he had, tonight was the night. She’d agreed to have a drink with him in the lounge after her shift, so he’d gone all out. 

A full shave, styled his hair… his new shirt. Even his lucky underpants. Not that he thought there would be a hint of any between the sheets action. They both shared with others, and all efforts on his part to ensure the three others in his room would be somewhere else had fallen flat.

Maybe he might get a kiss though. 

Buoyed up by that thought, he had a spring in his step as he stepped out into the corridor, about to head toward the lounge when the red alert sounded. 

“Ohshitnonotnow!” he muttered, automatically switching directions to head up to the bridge. He was the captain’s yeoman so he didn’t really have a battlestation, unless it was in the admin office he shared with three filing cabinets, and some janitorial supplies. It had bothered him when he’d first arrived on the ship, but now he was quite fond of his little office. At least he didn’t have to share it with anyone. 

But his office wasn’t the place to be in an emergency. He should be on the bridge, helping the captain. How, he hadn’t worked out yet. This was his first posting, and his first actual red alert, and, quite frankly, the Captain scared the shit out of him. 

Raan Mason was huge, with muscles on his muscles, and Tav had seen him in the gym once… he had to have at least thirty-pack abs. Tav absently rubbed a hand over his own stomach as he headed toward the turbolifts. Perhaps he could ask for some workout tips. 

Sound ahead of him made him frown, and his steps slowed as harsh voices and barked orders reached his ears. Stifling a gasp, he tucked himself in the small space between a door and the replicator. It was his favourite on the ship, the only one that did cara-mocha-choco-espresso with extra cream and sprinkles. 

The sprinkles didn’t seem to be on the menu, but he always managed to get them. There must be some kind of cheat-code button mash he’d hit on by accident. Whatever, he always dropped by this replicator on the way to duty every morning, to start his day off right. 

He couldn’t even think of a coffee right now as the corridor ahead of him filled with hard-faced, mean-looking pirates. They spotted him and then started shooting. He yelped, trying to make himself as small as possible. 

Then a hard hand landed on the back of his neck and he was yanked backward. Perhaps this was it… he’d been hit and—

“Stay behind us, kid,” Mason growled as Tav stumbled backward, landing on his ass as the captain and Bennett, the chief engineer, practically filled the corridor with their shoulders as they took positions against each of the walls and fired back at the pirates. 

A shot hit the floor by Tav’s ankle and he gasped, scrambling for the wall behind the captain. Mason turned his head slightly, eyeing him over his shoulder while somehow still managing to hit two pirates. 

“Can you shoot, kid?” he growled over the noise. 

Tav nodded soundlessly, his eyes wide. He could shoot. Well, he knew the principles of shooting. He’d been on the ranges and his scores were okay. But he’d never shot anything that fired back. Not like this.

“CAN YOU SHOOT?” the captain growled louder, his attention back on the battle. He and the Chief Engineer moved forward, one after the other, forcing Tav to lurch to his feet to follow them. They weren’t speaking to each other, they weren’t even looking at each other… so how the hell did they know what the other one was going to do?

“Yes!” he squeaked, then cleared his throat and made his voice deeper. “Yeah, I can shoot.”

“Okay, take this.” The captain fished out a hand phaser tucked in his belt. “Cover the rear. If anyone tries to sneak up on us, shoot them.”

“Yes, sir! Got it, sir!” he managed, almost dropping the phaser but then getting a grip on it. His knuckles were white as he turned, keeping his attention on the corridor behind them as the two senior officers fought the pirates. 

“Move, kid!” A growl behind him revealed he’d missed them moving again and he yelped, scuttling to keep up in a weird, sideways crab-run so he could watch them and keep an eye on the corridor behind them. The captain was counting on him! Tav couldn’t let him down.

They reached a turn, and Tav hit the wall of the corridor behind the captain as they finally forced the pirates around the corner. 

“Mason to the bridge,” the captain said between trying to kill more pirates. Tav suspected that if he ran out of charge in his assault rifle, he’d just pile in and batter them with it. “Pirates are in corridor section E42, bring the containment fields up between this section and the next.”

All the air left Tav’s lungs in a rush as people stopped shooting at them. He sagged against the wall and looked at the phaser in his hand. 

“I was in a firefight!” he gasped. “An actual firefight.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, kid,” Bennett, the Chief Engineer chuckled. “You survived a firefight without shooting your own feet or us.”

“Come on. We still need to secure engineering,” the captain said, looking down at Tav. “You did good, kid. Stick with us.“

“Yes, sir! Of course, sir!” he said, snapping to attention and hurrying after the two senior officers. He’d thought opting to be a yeoman would mean boring admin for the rest of his life, but this was way better! 

There was green and there was, well, green. Rennox was all shades of it. Literally and figuratively. 

Dayne caught Mason’s eye as they moved swiftly through the corridors toward engineering, the yeoman running along behind them, clutching his little hand phaser. Mason had ordered him to watch the rear, and the kid kept doing this little hop, skip and turn to check. Dayne bit back his smile. The kid didn’t realise that neither he nor Mason ever stopped watching the rear… it was the quickest way to get dead in a battle… but it made the kid feel useful, and stopped him getting in the way of the serious action. 

But seriously… what was he? All of like, twelve? Dayne knew that physically humans tended to be smaller than llanarians, but he’d never seen a full grown human so small. 

“Hold it,” he growled, holding a hand out to shove Rennox behind him as they reached the intersection before engineering. Mason had taken the other side of the corridor and between them they moved around the corner, covering all the firing arcs. 

“Mason to the bridge,” Mason said as they made it through the double doors into engineering. “You got an update for me on pirate movements aboard?”

“Yes sir,” Burton’s deep voice filled the air. “We seem to have four groups, three now one group are trapped in E42.”

“Where are the others?” Mason asked, slinging his rifle across his shoulder as he set up shop at the central console in the middle of the room. 

Dayne let out a piercing whistle, getting the attention of every engineer in the place and bringing them out from where they’d been working to where they could see him. 

“Right, listen up you lot!” he ordered. “We have pirates on the ship, so let’s start locking everything down. I don’t want these assholes getting a clear run through this ship. Let’s make it bloody difficult for them.” 

The engineers dispersed without a sound, each heading to their own consoles. Dayne watched them go, pride rolling through him at their no-nonsense responses. He’d picked his team carefully, even down to the most junior, Nyla. 

“One group heading up to us here on the bridge,” Burton’s reply came through as Dayne reached Mason’s side. “One headed to you in engineering. But the last one seems to be headed toward Medical. Not sure why.” 

Dayne chuckled. “If they’ve decided to drop in on Micheals, then they’re in for a very rude awakening.” 

Mason nodded, his expression tight. “They are indeed.”

“Why?” 

The unexpected query made them both look up to find Rennox on the other side of the console, bright blue eyes pinned on them. Dayne wondered if the kid had found a box to stand on or something, then realised there was a guard rail on that side of the console. Which meant Rennox was standing on one of the bars to make himself seem taller. 

“Micheals is… was a combat surgeon on her home planet,” Mason explained, already pulling up a schematic of the deck they were on and their location in relation to sickbay. It wasn’t far, but there were a lot of open corridors between it and them. 

“Yes sir. I read her file.” Rennox still looked confused, so Dayne took pity on him. 

Putting his rifle down on the console, he started his own foothold procedure protocols, locking off access to critical systems in case the pirates got in here.

“What you gotta understand, kid, is that your sawbones is basically one of the scariest people you’ll ever meet. Apart from yours truly, of course. They know how to put bodies back together in a variety of inventive and creative ways, but you know what that also means?”

“No, sir. Sorry, sir.”

He looked up again, meeting Rennox’s gaze. Gods, the kid was so green. “It means that they’re also pretty good at taking those bodies apart.”

Realisation dawned, Rennox’s eyes going wide. “Ohhhhh!”

“Don’t listen to him. Bennett’s a pussy cat. His mom though, she’s one scary lady,” Mason cut in, still frowning at the schematic as he flicked through level after level, looking for a way through to sickbay without using the main corridors. “But yes, Micheals is used to operating under fire, in the worst conditions. She’s also used to fighting her way out of a bad corner to get her patients to safety.” 

“I… take it you don’t mean a literal corner, sir?”

Dayne caught the kid’s eye and shook his head as he typed. Three out of five protocols were enacted. Two to go then they could start barricading the door. The skin between his shoulder-blades was itching that it wasn’t secured yet, but locking off these systems was more important. 

“Okay… we have a route here,” Mason said, spreading his hands to throw the deck plan up in front of them. A route was marked out in red. Rennox leaned forward and frowned. 

“Errr… that’s… I mean… well…”

Mason looked at him. “Spit it out, Rennox.”

The kid flushed, looking like he wanted the deck plating to open up and eat him whole. “Will you even fit, sir? Nooffencemeantreallysorry.”

Dayne couldn’t help it, a booming laugh escaped him to echo around engineering. Everyone stopped to look at him and he waved them to get back to work, smirking as he slid a sideways glance at Mason. “He’s got you there, general. I thought you were putting a bit of pudge on.”

“One day, Bennett,” Mason growled, but amusement glinted in the back of his eyes. He looked at Rennox. “I’ll fit. Believe me I’ll fit.”

Reaching over, he grabbed Bennett’s rifle and handed it over to Rennox. “Lock and load, you’re coming with me.” 

“What?!” the kid squeaked, catching it as Dayne exclaimed, “Hey! That’s mine!”

Mason rolled his eyes. “Pur-lease, you’ve been dying to break out big Berta for months. Permission for personal weaponry granted.”

“Yes!” Dayne fist-pumped the air. “Yessir! Thank you sir!”

“Who’s big Bertha, sir?” he heard Rennox ask as he followed Mason across engineering to the maintenance shaft they were going to use to get to sickbay. 

“You don’t want to know, kid. Believe me, you don’t want to know…”

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…

The refrain rolled through Tav’s mind on a loop as he followed the captain across the engineering back toward one of the access hatches to the jefferies tubes. He scurried to keep up, unable to believe he was actually on a mission, a combat mission, with the captain himself. 

Several engineers eyed him and the captain up as they passed. Immediately Tav pulled himself up to his full height and puffed his chest out, holding the big rifle in an approximation of the easy way the captain held his just in case Nyla was watching. 

He tried to look around to see if she was, only to nearly run into the captain’s back. 

“You’re going to need to keep your wits about you when we’re out there, Rennox,” the captain rumbled as he squatted down to trigger the hatch release. “We’re going to be moving fast, in close quarters. If it comes to a fight in here, it’s going to be brutal.” 

Looking up, he speared Tav with a piercing look. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” 

What other answer could he give, especially when he’d just spotted Nyla on the upper level, watching him as she worked. That was his girl up there… there was no way he was backing out of a combat mission and prove to both her and the captain that he was a coward. 

Mason blinked. “I’m not sure what the defecation habits of terran ursines have to do with possible close-quarters combat in the jefferies tubes.” 

Oh… shit. 

He’d just gone and put his foot in it, right up to the ankle. In his attempt to imitate the banter between the Chief Engineer and the captain he’d completely forgotten that neither were human. 

“Err… it’s, like…” he scrubbed at the back of his head, his face hot enough to fry eggs on. “Well… it’s a saying? You know?”

Mason’s face broke into a broad grin, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling and his eyes glinting with amusement. 

“I’m having you on, kid,” he chuckled as he hauled the hatch open. “I know what it means. Come on, let’s move.”

Relief washed through Tav, and his arms felt like wet noodles. Clutching his rifle as close to his chest as he dared, he followed Mason into the jefferies tubes. The bigger man only had to duck his head. For now. Some of the proposed route was much tighter. Much, much tighter. 

“Stick close,” Mason ordered, moving fast. Tav hurried to keep up. “Note areas of cover as you move. If we get hit, fall back to the last intersection. If we get split up, get yourself back to engineering, understand?”

Tav nodded, then realised the captain couldn’t see him. 

“Yes sir,” he said to Mason’s broad back. “What will you do if we get split up?”

Mason held his hand up for silence as they approached the first intersection. Tav stayed out of the way as Mason checked the way was clear, watching every movement the captain made with his rifle. He’d been taught the basics of combat, but it was easy to see Commander Mason had way more than his standard combat proficiency badge. 

“If we get split up, chances are I’ll be leading these assholes on a merry chase around the ship,” he said as they began moving again. “So don’t you worry about me, okay? I tell you to run, you run.”

Tav set his jaw. He didn’t want to run, he wanted to be helpful. 

Mason looked over his shoulder. “I didn’t catch that. I tell you to run, you run. Are we clear?”

“Yessir.” 

Like hell he was running. He could help. Otherwise the captain wouldn’t have brought him along. 

Mason eyeballed him for a few seconds longer, and Tav sweated under the collar of his fancy shirt. He wished he was wearing his uniform. The red shirt would just make him a target. 

“Heroes get dead fast, kid,” Mason rumbled. “Remember that. Now, come on, before any of those pirates get into sickbay and Micheals guts them before we can question them.”

Tav’s eyes bugged out of his head at that. He’d had his routine medical before he’d arrived on the Resolute at its last pitstop at SB86, but he’d met the ship’s chief medical officer a few times. She seemed nice. A little blunt and acerbic, and she didn’t seem to ever smile, but she seemed nice. 

He eyed the captain ahead of him. But he supposed that was a matter of perspective. Compared to gruff, former soldiers like Commander Mason, the chief engineer, and whatever the hell their chief helm officer was, the relatively normal chief medical officer seemed… nice. 

“Mason to the bridge. Can I get an update on what our unwelcome guests are up to?” 

The captain frowned as there was no reply, setting his back against the wall as he nodded ahead of them. “This is the chokepoint,” he said in a low voice

Tav looked around the corner. This was the section he’d been surprised about earlier. The jefferies tubes didn’t go all the way to engineering as they normally would. Probably because of the changes made for the expanded lounge on the Resolute, the maintenance tube cut off, leaving just a small crawlspace to get from this section to the next. It looked even smaller than it had on the schematics. 

“It’s going to be a tight squeeze. For me anyway,” the captain said as they moved forward. “You can probably just slither through there easy as pie. You good in tight spaces?

“Absolutely, sir.” Tav nodded. He’d already sized up the gap and knew he could make it. “Me and Soren grew up on the USS Armitage, running around the jefferies tubes.”

“Soren?” The commander raised an eyebrow in question. 

“Oh, sorry. My twin brother, Soren Rennox,” Tav explained. “He’s a yeoman too. Assigned to Captain Barrington.” 

Mason nodded. “Friends in high places, then.” 

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Tav wasn’t jealous at all that Soren had lucked out and gotten the better assignment, with the Taskforce’s CO himself. From what Soren said, it was mostly meetings—endless meetings—and boring as hell. Soren had complained his boss was so organized that he’d been forced to organize the paperclips on his desk by size order and batch requisitioned. 

Tav would much rather be crawling around on a combat mission with his captain. 

“Okay… well, up at at ‘em then.” Mason rumbled, taking a guard position to watch the corridor behind them as he yerked his head toward the crawlspace. “Once you get the other side, take position and cover the corridor ahead.”

“Yessir.” 

Tav was in the crawlspace in a heartbeat, pushing the rifle ahead of him until he was on the other side. Crouching behind a support strut as he’d seen the captain do, he called back over his shoulder. 

“Err… move?” 

“Moving.” The captain chuckled behind him, but his voice was tighter than normal. There were clunks and bangs behind him, then some soft swearing. 

Tav risked a look over his shoulder, then looked front again quickly. Yeah, that was a hell of a tight fit for someone as big as Commander Mason. 

“Err… are you okay, sir?” he asked after another thirty seconds of huffing and what sounded like tearing cloth. But before the captain answered him, there was a chirp from the computer. 

“Long range call for Commander Mason,” the computer announced. 

“What? Now?” The commander all but snarled. “In the middle of a red alert? Who the hell from?” 

“Long range call for Commander Mason from Captain Hale,” the computer repeated. “Visual and audio.”

“Freaking great.” The commander sighed. “Okay, give me the audio only. Ilona, I’m kind of busy at the moment. What do you want?” 

“You’ve been ignoring my calls for weeks, Raan Lynn Mason.” A woman’s voice filled the air, clipped and sharp. A voice used to command. “I need those bloody divorce papers signed and sent back. Don’t make me come hunt you down to get them, because I will. Are we clear?” 

The call cut off, leaving Tav sitting there, his own breath rasping in his ears. Holy shit… had he just eavesdropped on the captain’s personal call? And holy shit, the captain was married… well, almost. Kind of. 

Mason dropped out of the crawl space into the corridor next to him with little grace. He grunted as he rolled and Tav tried not to notice his jacket was ripped. 

“Uhmm…”

Mason cut him a side look and Tav shut his mouth with a click. He was not asking. So not asking.

“Moving,” Mason announced, and then they were off down the corridor again. 

Sickbay in a red alert situation was like schrodinger’s cat. Given the nature of combat aboard a starship they either had patients with horrendous injuries, or none at all. It all depended whether or not areas of the ship ended up vented to space. 

The red alert had been silenced in the main sickbay due to Norman, their near permanent resident. Accident prone and paranoid did not describe Norman. Aida had never met anyone that could injure themselves on such a regular basis. Today he had managed to turn his ankle after dropping a paperclip. Now for most people, they would have just stepped on the damn thing and gone on their way. But not Norman… oh no. 

Norman had slipped on the paperclip, skidding across the ops office to collide with another member of staff, and ended up wearing a mug of hot coffee. And that hot coffee, drinkable for anyone else? Yeah, it had given Norman third degree burns due to an undiagnosed skin condition. It was a skill, it had to be. Although, what use it would be, Aida had no idea. 

“Are we safe in here?” Norman asked from the corner bed, watching the main doors nervously. “There’s pirates, right? They’re on the ship.”

She nodded. “Yes, there’s a boarding party, but I’m sure we’re perfectly safe.”

“Are you sure?” 

She bit back her sigh of irritation. Fuck’s sake, her job had been so much easier when the patients didn’t talk back and all she had to think about was getting them out under enemy fire. 

Bedside manner, she reminded herself, grabbing an apple from the bowl kept on one of the trolleys and taking a bite. Eating, or chewing at least, kept her mouth full and ensured she didn’t rip Norman’s head off. Because her losing it, even because he was the most irritating pain in the ass she’d ever met, wouldn’t help the morale of her two junior nurses. They were wide eyed and she was sure the younger one, James, was about to be sick. 

“Absolutely,” she said after a few seconds. “Sickbay won’t be a priority for them.”

Norman clutched his thin blanket like an octogenarian clutching her pearls. “Are you sure?”

Oh, she was so going to knock him out the instant she had the chance. Only the fact she was in a sickbay rather than on the battlefield made her head for medication rather than just cold-clocking him. Just a little something to calm his nerves, that’s all. 

“They’ll head for either the bridge or engineering,” she said, reaching the side of his bed and checking over his vitals. Yeah, he was as stressed as hell. She’d hate to think what he’d be like on a battlefield. He’d be catatonic for sure. 

Norman’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”

She smiled as she looked down at him. “I didn’t always work in Starfleet.”

He nodded, opened his mouth—

A clunk behind them made her whirl around. Behind them one of the access hatches was slowly opening. 

Putting her fingers to her lips, she motioned to the two nurses to take cover behind biobeds and grabbed the first weapon she had to hand—the fruit bowl. Dumping the apples into Norman’s lap, she held it up over her head, creeping behind the opening hatch. 

The instant a head appeared, she swung. Only for the metal bowl to thunk against a heavily-muscled arm as the captain ducked.

“What the hell, Micheals!?” 

“Shit, sorry sir,” she gasped, backing away from the hatch as the captain unfolded himself from the tiny space with less grace than brute force. 

He was followed by his yeoman… Rennick or something… she couldn’t remember the kids name at the moment, just that he followed the captain around like a little puppy dog and looked vaguely terrified half the time. 

“Not to be funny sir, but what the fuck are you doing in there?” she asked, glancing in the open hatch to see if there were more in there. “Why aren’t you on the bridge?”

Like, defending it?

She didn’t say the last part. In her personal opinion Mason was a sandwich short of a picnic at times. He was effective, but didn’t follow any rulebook anyone else understood. It was no wonder he was still a commander even with how long he’d been in the fleet. He must drive Burton, their very by the book XO, up the freaking wall.

“Our guests split up,” he replied, hard gaze already scanning sickbay. “Is there just the four of you in here?” 

She nodded. Sickbay was small, there was no need to have more than three of them on duty until there was an emergency. If there was, then the lounge was converted into an emergency medical center. 

“Orders, sir?” she asked, knowing that if Mason was here, then they were likely in the path of their guests. She didn’t say it outloud, Norman was likely to faint. 

Mason didn’t get time to answer. At that moment the main doors slid opened and a small, round object was thrown in. It bounced across the floor three times, coming to rest against the pillar in the center of the room. 

“TAKE COVER!” Mason bellowed, and bodies scattered for any nook or cranny that would provide shelter. 

Aida made to grab Norman to pull him down with her behind the biobed, but he was already moving the other way. 

Apples spilled over the floor as he threw himself across sickbay and over the grenade…

“Holy… freaking… cow!” Tav blinked as Norman Smith threw himself over the grenade. 

Everyone in sickbay froze, Tav’s shoulder’s creeping up to his ears as he waited for the room to be redecorated in multiple shades of intestinal red with accents of skeletal white. 

But… nothing. 

Before Tav had registered that seconds had ticked by and the grenade hadn’t gone off, the captain was barking orders. 

“Rennox, take this and one of the nurses. Secure those doors.” Tav’d barely half turned and his arms were full of the captain’s rifle, the man himself already on the floor next to Norman, who was sweating and shaking, as surprised as the rest of them at his sudden display of bravery. 

“Okay, Norman… it’s Norman, isn’t it?” the captain asked, making sure the quaking operations officer made eye contact with him as Tav moved past. “Okay Norman, I’m going to need you to stay really still for me, okay? You’re going to get out of this, don’t worry. I got you.” 

Tav wanted to stop, reassured by the captain’s deep voice. How did he do that? Go from as scary-as-hell to having you hanging on his every word, absolutely trusting him with your life?

“The doors, kid,” came the growl and Tav hopped to it, handing one of the rifles off to the male nurse. When he went pale and looked at it like it was a snake about to strike, Tav shook his head and took it back. 

“Godsdammit, you’ll shoot your own foot off like that. Go help the captain and the CMO,” he ordered, doing his best to imitate the captain’s commanding growl. It came out a little squeaky and hurt his throat, but the nurse bolted across sickbay at the order and Tav turned to the female nurse that was left. 

She was tiny, and pretty. A flush mounted on his cheeks as he looked down at her, a feeling of protectiveness washing over him. 

“Errr, are you sure you know how to use one of these?” he asked as he handed it over. 

With a grin, she took it from him then checked it over with quick, efficient gestures that made him gape. When she saw his expression she giggled. “My uncle is an armourer. I grew up playing with these as a kid.”

“Ohhh…” A girl that was good with guns. He didn’t know whether to be scared or impressed. Or both. “I’m Tav… Tavik Rennox.”

She smiled, revealing dimples. “Elaria. Elaira Kane.”

“DOORS!” 

Tav jumped, smiling at Elaria as they took places either side of the doors. His amusement fell away at movement on the other side of the doors, just visible through the frosted glass.

The doors started to open, and then Tav didn’t have time to think as he was shoved into the first real fire-fight of his career. 

Meanwhile, Raan lay on his side, with a ticking timebomb, literally, under what had to be the most nervous operations officer in the history of nervous officers.

“Doing good, Norman,” he murmured in an undertone as he lifted the guy’s tunic. 

“No… don’t move. I’m going to need you to stay really still for me,” he ordered, reaching out with his free hand. Micheals, who was obviously a mindreader, put a small surgical clamp in his hand. With a small nod, he pinned Norman’s tunic out of the way. 

“Mason to the bridge. Give me a sitrep on the pirates,” he said, frowning as he moved closer to the floor to see what they were dealing with. Fortunately Norman was skinny to the point he needed about a week’s square meals to even reach normal weight so the grenade was wedged between the floor and his ribcage. It couldn’t be comfortable for Norman, but at least it gave Mason a clear view. 

His eyes narrowed. “Okay, we’re looking at a KT-17 Mark… four I think,” he murmured to Aida, his mind already flipping through schematics and measuring what the blast radius would be. 

She nodded. “The KT series are un—“

“Probably about the most commonly used grenades in current use,” he said quickly, cutting her off. He knew and she knew that the KT’s were as unstable as fuck. Norman, however, did not need to know that. He was already freaking out, they did not need him to become a runner to add to that. 

Why the hell had he decided to play the hero?

“Which…” he flashed Norman a reassuring smile. “Means that pretty much anyone who’s even looked sideways at ground troops is generally trained in how to disarm them.”

“Yeah?” Norman’s smile was tremulous. 

“Hell yeah, of course. Nothing to it!” Raan grinned as the sound of phaser fire sounded behind him from the direction of the door. 

The skin between his shoulder blades crawled, like it was trying to get to the dubious cover at the front of his body. He was out of cover and given he was the biggest person in the room, his back made for a real big target. 

Don’t let me down, kid, he thought as he studied the grenade again. Luckily the fascia plate that covered the internal mechanism was toward him. 

“Micheals, I need a scalpel, tweezers and a hypospray loaded with Izerpretamole-five,” he said in a low voice. 

“Yessir,” she replied immediately, moving away from his side. “James! You heard the captain, get scalpel and tweezers. Now!” 

“Bridge to the captain. We’re making progress. Gunnar has the shuttlebay secured and between members of the bridge crew and the beta security detail, we have the pirates up here contained.”

“Excellent,” he replied, nodding to James as the nurse put a tray down where he could reach it with a scalpel and tweezers on it, on a little green napkin. His lips quirked. They hadn’t really needed to ensure the tools were sterile but he couldn’t argue with the guy’s training, even under pressure. “Thank you, James. Now, I need you to head to decon, please.” 

“Sir?” He sounded confused, but the last thing Raan needed right now was for him to argue. He just needed as many people out of here as possible, without alerting Norman.

Aida dropped down next to Raan, placing the hypospray down next to him. “Decon, James, hop to it. The last cycle ran with errors, go do it again.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Obviously Micheals was way more scary to her staff than he was, because James was off like a rabbit. 

“Micheals, go help Rennox,” he ordered. “Move beds to give yourself cover.” 

“Mason to engineering,” he said as he lay on his side, getting into position. “Bennett, sitrep.” 

He reached into the gap between Norman’s ribcage and the floor with the scalpel and tweezers. He’d never done a disarm like this in quite such cramped quarters. It was like keyhole surgery. 

“Bennett to the captain,” Bennett’s deep voice answered a moment later. There was the sound of phaser fire in the background, but Bennett sounded chipper. “Engineering secure, we just have a runner we’re chasing down.”

“Excellent,” Mason replied, easing the fascia panel off the grenade with a steady hand. As it moved, he grabbed the edge with the tweezers, lifting it free with the delicacy of a master jeweler. If it touched any of the wiring, that would initiate the trigger sequence. “When you’re done there, double back and give Rennox a hand please. He has a team defending sickbay.”

“The kid?” Bennett’s voice was filled with curiosity but he didn’t ask questions, just replied, “Aye, sir. On my way.” 

“You’re doing great, Norman,” Mason said. “You’re making this so easy for me.”

“Yeah? Happy to help, sir,” Norman muttered, beads of sweat running down the sides of his face. 

“Absolutely.” Mason tilted his head as the internal mechanism of the grenade was really. Relief washed over him. Not only was it a mark four, but it was a lower payload model. If it went off, he and Norman were still toast, but the rest of sickbay would probably survive with just serious injury. 

“Talk to me Norman. What’s your poison? Me… I like a good spiced rum.” 

“I like whiskey, sir.”

“Whiskey? That’s a good solid drink. Straight or on the rocks?”

He kept up a stream of patter, talking anything and nothing with Norman as he worked on disarming the grenade while the firefight raged at the doors behind him. 

A distinctive whummmp-whummmp-whummmp filled the air, followed by screams. 

“What on earth is that?” Norman flinched and Mason shot a hand out, slamming it down on his shoulder to keep him in place. 

“That would be the cavalry with Big Bertha,” he grunted as he sprayed the inside of the grenade with I-5, the corrosive substance instantly attacking the wirings and connectors. “Our chief engineer’s personal weapon of choice. It’s the bastard lovechild of a triple-barrelled shotgun and an anti-tank gun I believe,” he said, holding his breath as the I-5 went to work. There was the outside chance it wouldn’t work quickly enough and the grenade would go off. Sweat rolled down the hollow of his spine, but there was nothing he could do. It was in the hands of the gods of fate now. 

“That is… quite a thought,” Norman said, and Raan released a breath of relief as the internals of the grenade turned to acidic mush. Dropping the hypospray, he held the grenade steady with his free hand, lifting his other from Norman’s shoulder. 

“Okay… Norman, you need to listen to me carefully and do exactly what I say. I’m going to need you to lift up now,” he said. “But straight up. Get your hands and feet under you and lift up in the plank position. Do you know what the plank position is?”

Norman nodded, and did as he was told without argument. Which was perfect, since Mason was holding a sphere filled with acid that could eat through his skin and intestines in seconds. There was the sound of voices behind him and he heard Bennett’s voice. 

“Someone get me an enviro-waste container,” he called out over his shoulder as Norman lifted up. But halfway up, his arms started to shake. 

“Shit!” Mason hissed, managing to wedge his arm under the terrified and exhausted ops officer before he could land on the disarmed but still dangerous grenade. 

“I got ‘im,” Bennett rumbled and a second later Norman was lifted bodily into the air. 

“Container here,” Micheals said to Mason’s left and he twisted as he sat up, keeping the grenade level as he lifted it and dropped it into the waste container. A drop splashed up as Micheals snapped it shut, drawing a line of fire over the back of his hand. He hissed, drawing his hand into a tight fist against the pain. 

A second later he was on his feet. “Micheals, dispose of that. Bennett, update,” he ordered, dropping a big hand on Norman’s shoulder as he sat on the edge of a biobed. “You did good, Norman. Real good. We’ll grab a drink in the lounge later, okay? I think we’ve earned it.”

“Yes sir, thank you sir,” Norman managed a weak smile, but then one of the nurses was there to look after him and Mason turned his attention to Bennett. 

The big engineer stood there, grinning like a loon, still with Big Bertha’s rig attached to his shoulder, but the weapon herself in the upright, locked position. He looked like he was a one-winged angel of death or something. 

“Engineering secured. All the pirates on this level are in custody or conversing with their gods.”

Mason nodded, taking a deep breath. “Casualties?”

“Us? None,” a new voice announced, and they both turned to see Burton walk through the door. Blood streamed down the side of his face, and he was helping Ensign Callahan, who held a hand to her side. There was blood on her uniform. “Them? Twenty-four dead, the rest are in custody.” 

Raan nodded. “Okay. Bennett, get back to engineering, get me an update on any damage we’ve sustained. Burton, get yourself checked out and then meet me back on the bridge.” He looked past Burton to where Rennox stood by the door, pleased to see the young yeoman hadn’t managed to get himself killed. 

“Rennox, you’re with me,” he said, walking past and collecting his rifle from the young nurse with a small murmur of thanks. “Walk and talk. We’re going to need work details to get the bodies collected and moved to the shuttlebay. And we’re going to need to report this.”

“Yes sir, of course sir.” Rennox said quickly, running after him. “Sir?”

“Yes, kid?”

“Big Bertha, sir… Is that… can I get—“

“NO!”