The BLTS Archive - Scotty: The Early Days:
Story #5: The Trafalgar Novel: Serpentine2:
Point of Deception
by Sarah James (sarah_james_42@yahoo.com)

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remark: This is the second chapter of the Trafalgar Novel:
Serpentine

feedback: always welcome

disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters belong to
Paramount.

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Slumped over his desk Captain Benjamin Rathbone Fuller
studied reports, scans, statistics and readouts. Yes, now it
was clear. This enemy was not to be underestimated. For a
full three weeks the Trafalgar had been patrolling along the
border of presumed Federation territory so close that it
must have appeared as invasion without ever actually
invading. But no Bird of Prey had shown up.

So either the mysterious enemy had decided his point was
made after the destruction of the Federation's mining
colonies in the Arkon belt or...they were waiting for their
next big coup. "To strike us when and where we least expect
it," the Captain growled. "So you just come and try and I,
the Ugly, will be there to welcome you bastards. It's to
know or not to know. And I know!" His fist shook down the
table hard against the floor.

He had a pretty good idea when and where. Now he only needed
to convince Rear Admirals Nogura, Takashi, Ahonen as well as
Fleet Commodore Fitzpatrick. His double encrypted text
message had been received mere minutes ago. Now he could
only wait for his leaders' decision, hoping he had managed
to convince them of the urgency to make one. Also it had
better be the right one, the one he – The Ugly – had
suggested. A sudden buzz intruded in the middle of his
next tactical move on the star map screen. No doubt thinking
ahead by a far distance without ever losing sight of his
closest goal was his greatest skill, therefore his biggest
advantage. So who dared to bother him now?

Angrily his finger pushed the intercom button. "What!" he
bellowed.

Silence followed, only irritating crackling came over the
line. Then finally "...Ahem..." A familiar voice explained,
slightly puzzled, "Scott here, Sir. Eighteen hundred hours,
punctually, at your office, as always, Captain. I'm standing
in front of your door, Sir."

Fuller winced. How could he have been so absorbed as to
mistake his door bell for an intercom buzz. Angry at himself,
he slammed the button on the opposite side and barked,
"C'min, you're three minutes late, as always."

Not that Fuller himself was anywhere close to being ready
for dinner. As Scott carefully entered the room with an
insecure smile on his youthful face, Ben rushed over to
clear his dinner table of data chips, a large pot of
coffee and three empty mugs. He scowled. How long had his
yeoman not shown up here to clean the bloody table? Then he
remembered, he'd ordered strictly, "Not the slightest
disturbance from anybody. Yourself included." That didn't
count for Scott though. Captain Fuller needed a crew of one
hundred percent efficiency, especially now. If necessary he
would see to it personally that his men and women integrated
themselves in on-board life and society. So Lt. Scott was
either going to settle in on the Trafalgar, giving up his
position as obstinate, single-minded outsider to be nothing
but one more hard working, flawless member of his crew or he
was going to spend his time cleaning the ship from the
outside until the Trafalgar could get rid of him at the next
Starbase.

That and only that was reason and purpose of their daily
dinner appointments. To make sure Captain Fuller's boot
would not have to kick chief Barnes' beloved
second-in-command off this ship. Well, that and the fact
that Ben, although he would never admit it openly, terribly
enjoyed the Scotsman's refreshing company. Well, he mused,
critically eyeing the Lt. in his crumpled uniform. What did
the boy do with it? Did he sleep in it?

"Sit," the Captain ordered in a gruff tone. "The yeoman
should be here with dinner any time soon. Excuse the mess.
I'll have it cleared right away."

"Och, no problem at all, Sir."

Ben snorted while putting away more data chips from the
table. "Thank you, Scott, that's too kind of you. I hope
you're hungry. We'll be having home-cooked food for a
change." Yes, the synthetic standard meals were not too bad
but every now and again a real man needed a real steak. His
mouth watered at the thought. Ben liked his rump steak so
rare that it was practically raw. He hoped Scott wasn't
going to take offence at that. But then the young Scotsman
did not appear to be one whom you could easily intimidate in
the first place.

Several moments later the yeoman, Simon Smith, tall, thin,
blond pressed the buzzer in such a shy manner that the sound
was barely noticeable. With a misgiving glare Fuller
stretched out his little finger to press a button and sesame,
the door opened. How Smith had managed to carry a tray in each
hand and still be able to ring the bell, Fuller had no idea. But
surely he was going to clean the button outside with an
anti-septic towel next time he was to leave his office.

"Thank you, Smith. Dismissed. Orders are the same as before,
aside from Lt. Scott no disturbance whatsoever unless we are
attacked."

Smith straightened his small, bony shoulders and cast a
curious glance at the Scottish engineer in a not very polite
way. Unless you called the wrinkling of the nose polite.
This made Ben angry. If he, the Captain, could give Scott a
fair second chance, why couldn't everybody else? "Thank you,
Smith," he hissed. "We'll be fine from now on. You may leave
and attend to your many duties."

Once the uninteresting skinny behind was out the door Ben
leaned back in his seat to take a closer look at Scott who
was waiting patiently. Well, the Captain thought, slowly
removing the lid from his plate to take in the ravishing
smell of his favourite, rump steak so rare that it would
release blood when his sharp knife cut through the meat.
Ahhh!

"Well, son, what have you been doing today in engineering?"
Ben finally inquired matter-of-factly, sounding almost as if
he was speaking to a teenage minime who had just come home
from school.

Scott cocked both eyebrows in mild surprise but did not
protest. Instead he chortled with full enthusiasm. "The
chief and I ran through a few routine check-ups on the main
engine. Laura... excuse me, chief Barnes was rather
satisfied. She thinks the bairn's purring along as smooth as
a bebbe's bottom. Well, I have to point out there were a few
glitches, but nothing to worry about. Once we are out of the
yellow alert condition we could probably devote some time to
fix that bugger proper, but for now a complete overhaul would
not be advisable. We canna afford a mess in engineering as
long as we're so prone to attack."

"Mhmhhh," Ben commented as if he had not read Laura Barnes
reports in every detail. He liked it though to have Scott
explain Laura's techno-babble in nicely formulated, easy to
comprehend, colourful Scottish accentuated Federation
Standard. The Captain grumbled satisfied. Suddenly he felt
the need to be brutally honest with this boy.

"Scott," he began, "the more the chief concentrates on
engine efficiency while we're not involved in battle the
better. This 'peaceful' situation might not last long. I'm
preparing myself, so you better prepare yourself too. You
have little idea yet of what battle means."

Slowly Scott put down his cutlery. "Sir," he replied with
serious frankness in his dark gaze. "I mean no disrespect
but I believe I have seen quite close up what battle means,
on Aldeberan V. I have seen what proton torpedoes can do,
what wide-range laser fire can do. I've seen wounded, dead,
bodies that were more than dead... I believe I know what
battle means."

Fuller allowed himself a quick sympathetic smile. Indeed, he
shouldn't forget Scott must have witnessed burning hell on
Aldeberan V when the colonies were attacked and destroyed a
few weeks ago. It was his bravery that had saved a handful
of civilians from certain death. "6000 victims, Scott. When
you mourn so many dead you fight until the bitter end
because there is no other way out."

The Lieutenant glared back at him frankly and with welling
tears of deep hurt in his eyes. "But there is always
resurrection."

Ben was not given a chance to stew on these words as at that
very moment the dreaded red alert roared through the ship.

"All hands to the battle stations!!! All hands!!!" the XO's
order came over the intercom loud and clear.

Immediately the Captain and Scott were out of their seats,
sprinting through the door at the same time, dashing down
the hallway and when Fuller jumped into the turbo lift,
Scott was still on his heels. Surprised Ben spun around.
"Where are you going?"

"To my battle station as ordered, Sir."

Fuller frowned. "To the bridge?"

Startled, Scott blinked. "Well..."

"Don't keep me, boy. Make up your mind. Quick!"

"Aye bridge." With one large step, Scotty was inside the lift
and they sped upwards to the main bridge of this robust
Daedalus class ship.

---

Behind his balding head the red alert was blinking
hysterically. The decks were racing past them with
tremendous speed as his heart slammed against his chest in
anxiety. Benjamin Fuller was glad he had taken the time for
a quick jog across the deck this morning, just enough to get
his blood warm, enough to keep on his toes without being
worn out. So he had shifted into action without the
slightest effort as soon as the alarm had gone off.

In his inner eye he visualized his bridge, his officers
positions to be fully in charge seconds before the doors
finally hissed open to let him enter the scene. As expected
the XO was back to her station behind the command, on the
gallery. His command chair in the centre was vacated
awaiting him while helmsman, gunner and navigator at the
front were ready to receive orders, science, communication
and engineering stations on the gallery were fully manned.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Scott rush over to
stand next to Lt. Caitlin Prohaska as she frantically worked
her engineering board. "Why are the shields not raised!" the
Scotsman barked instantly.

"Shields are coming on, Sir. The XO only just gave the
order. I reacted within three seconds," Caitlin defended
herself as she was about to give up her seat for Scott.

But chief engineer Barnes' second-in-command gruffly pressed
her back into her chair and leaned over her shoulder to make
some manual alterations. "Three seconds too late, Cat. Just
keep on working, lass. Never mind me."

Good, Ben mused, suddenly feeling more assured with a second
engineer in the room. Not that he didn't trust Lt. Prohaska
but... Well, Scott might be lacking the experience under his
belt, but he was already proving good instincts and
willpower. In the meantime the Captain flung his weight down
the short flight of stairs to the centre of the bridge, his
gaze directed at the large viewscreen in the front. The
picture there was precisely what he had expected only a
little bit more of it.

"Three Bird of Preys taking direct course at us," the XO
reported dutifully. "Their shields are down, weapons raised.
They are ready to attack. We are undertaking evasive
manoeuvres. Their course changes are rather smooth. They're
closing in on us, Captain."

"Thank you, Commander," Fuller hissed, gritting his teeth as
he finally slid into his chair, forcefully grabbing the
armrests.

"All shields on line now! Shields to full power," Prohaska's
voice informed him.

"Very well. Communications?" he spun his chair around to
face Lt. Commander Daisuke Naminou, a small Japanese man
with a buzzcut.

"As always Captain, they did not response to our hails. I am
positive our transmissions were received. Shall I send
another message?"

"Save that for later. Let's not waste time here. Commander
Saedelaere? There was no fire exchanged yet. What do you
reckon?"

Mondra abandoned her station to approach his seat. Standing
beside him, the exceptionally tall woman leaned close. "They
appear to be hunting us."

Fuller's fingertip rubbed his right eyebrow thoughtfully.
"Or distracting us. Engineering, prepare us to go to full
speed with the best acceleration you can get out of those
engines as soon as I give the word. Lt. Commander Pistola, I
want you to scare them with one single shot stopping short
in front of their snoot, target the ship in the middle when
I give the order. Make that a precision shot, close enough
to convince them. Saedaelare, back to your station. I need
up-to-the millisecond information from you."

"Ships still closing in, Captain," the XO yelled from her
post moments later, "They are well within our range for
laser type 3 fire."

Fuller flashed his teeth. "Fire! Helmsman, get us out of
here! We take course directly at the bird in the middle.
Engineering full speed... Now!!!"

As the Trafalgar lurched forward with a sudden jump both
Bird of Preys that were flanking the attacked ship in the
middle set course to avoid their attacker while their target
froze in place as the Trafalgar warped off right beneath
them and was well out their range by the time the ships'
commanders managed to react.

"They do not follow us," Commander Saedelaere stated
pleased.

Satisfied Captain Fuller nodded at the screen. "Ah that was
close. Good job, engineering." Ben avoided mentioning Scott
by name, even though he had a clear idea about who had given
him this beautifully timed one-hundred-and-twenty percent
performance. No doubt there was soon going to land another
ode on Scottish talent on his office desk written by chief
engineer Laura Barnes herself. She was probably jubilating
down there in main engineering.

"Very well. We go back to yellow alert. Helmsman, take
course on Aldeberan V." Fuller noticed the surprised
expression in his first officer's face. Yes, he knew that
Aldeberan V was destroyed. And damned if the enemy would not
use this easy well-prepared pathway for his next deep lunge
into Federation territory right towards Star Fleet's most
unprotected Starbase.

"For Remus and Romulus. Victory!" he recited the message
their attackers had left several weeks ago after their
successful invasion of the Arkon belt. "I have no doubt they
will continue right there. Sure, we scared them a little bit
in the last battle there, but they were probably planning to
withdraw anyway to gather themselves for an even greater
invasion."

Mondra Saedelaere only nodded warily.

"Lt. Commander Naminou," Fuller ordered, his arctic blue
glare still focused on his first officer, "prepare yourself
to release a double encoded message, encryption as usual,
exclusively addressed to Commodore Fitzpatrick with highest
priority. I will send you the text from my office. Let's not
waste time waiting for HQ's response. It would take too
long. Romulus and Remus are more than ready. I can already
smell them, Mondra, can't you?"

Saedelaere grinned ruefully. Nobody knew her Captain's high
instincts better than his loyal XO.

Then Fuller activated intra-ship communication on the arm of
his command chair. "Captain to Crew. We have returned to
yellow alert but are en-route to Aldeberan V where we expect
to meet further hostile ships. Everybody who is not active
according to the current duty roster is allowed to return to
their quarters for a brief rest period with the exception of
myself, Lt. Commander Naminou and Lt. Scott. Well done,
Crew. Fuller out!"

When Ben darted a quick glance over his shoulder to observe
Scott's reaction he was little surprised to see the engineer
still one-hundred percent involved in his job as if the
battle had never ceased. He probably had not even taken
notice of the fact that Ben had now specifically asked for
him to be on the bridge. Brave man, the Captain mused.
Frankly, he had been anything but soft on Scott and for good
reason. But so far the young engineer had not uttered the
slightest complaint about anything. He had been assigned to
the crowded crew quarters on the lower decks where 24 men
and women shared one sleeping ward and approximately two
shower rooms, sonic showers, no water, one designated for
girls, the other for boys. Certainly officer Scott would
have a right to his own quarters or at least shared quarters
with another officer, but Ben had neglected to make a cabin
available. Naturally there were a few vacated cabins on the
officer's deck. Although why spoil somebody who had yet to
prove his worth with creature comforts?

As it looked Lt. Scott seemed to openly accept what others
had only come to appreciate by learning the hard way, namely
that Fuller never made gifts and that Fuller's reward for
good work was more work. Besides, the Scotsman was visibly
grateful to be out of his arrest cell. No doubt crowded crew
quarters were still preferable to that.

Slowly Ben rose from his seat. "I will be in my office.
Commander, you have the con. Please keep me informed
whenever you can." When he passed by engineering on his way
to the lift, Fuller risked a quick wink in Scott's
direction. He would have loved to pat the younger man's
shoulder in praise, but that would have gone under spoiling
or petting. Oh no, the Ugly admonished himself, nobody would
get spoiled on this tub. Captain included.

Then he marched off to formulate his urgent message, plan
further steps and keep his blood warm with another 4 klicks
jog on the flight deck.

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The End