by David Smith
Replacement staff had been requested many times, but perhaps because of her remoteness, none had ever caught up with the ship since he himself had joined the crew nearly eighteen months previously.
Now they were back at Todot Hahn, they’d be able to recover the crew that they’d left behind when they’d set out for Arcturus. This included a flight crew, some security and science personnel as well as Izzy and Joynes.
There was also a contingent of Logistical and Medical personnel at Hole, but eighteen of these were ‘Locally Recruited Enlisted Personnel’ that Chief Money had rounded up and signed on as ‘nurses’. Whilst they were undoubtedly adept at catering to people’s needs, it was only ‘needs’ in a sexual sense. Tiger was the only ship in the Fleet with her own contingent of hookers.
There was no real point in getting them back to Tiger, so even assuming Izzy and Joynes could be spared to rejoin the crew, they’d still be well short of the normal ship’s complement of four hundred and thirty. Excluding the hookers and with more staff due to leave service they’d have a roster of just three hundred and fifty-eight crew. That still included a useless robotic Ensign and seventeen more Yeomen than they actually needed, all of whom were of no real value in operating the ship.
To that list he could add Joynes, who habitually spent his time aboard Tiger absolutely off his face, and the Captain, Emmanuel LaCroix, a sex addict who hadn’t actually been to the Bridge in all of Dave’s time aboard the ship. Realistically, he could count on just three hundred and thirty-eight crew. That was really marginal, and high alert states would be nearly impossible to maintain.
To make matters worse they also hadn’t been able to address the defective warp-drive system. The system was operational, but still included six Tana-built warp coils that drove the ship backwards through time if operated in conjunction with the ships regular coils. If they deactivated these coils, Tiger was limited to speeds of around warp-factor eight, still quite fast but almost certainly too slow to extricate herself from a sticky situation against enemy warships.
The only mitigating factor was that the ship was still coated with the caramelised remains of the microscopic energy-vampires they’d encountered in dark-space. For reasons no-one really understood, these still absorbed virtually any form of radiation, rendering Tiger nearly invisible. Even that would take some explaining.
The last thing he needed right now was to be fending off a hostile representative from JAG.
He decided to try to nip the issue in the bud. Admiral O’Connor couldn’t order JAG to stand down, but was senior enough that a request from him might at least be given consideration by the Judge Advocate General herself.
He turned around to Lieutenant Shearer at the Comms Station. ‘Shearer, open a channel to Starbase Eighty-seven. I need to speak to Admiral O’Connor urgently.
‘Tryin now, sir.’
There was a very long pause, and for a second, Dave thought the beautiful woman had misheard his instruction. He was just about to ask her again, when she finally replied.
‘Summat’s oop sir. I canna get a connecshun, liek. I canna see any thin roong but nothins gawn thru liek. I can awnly think there’s a fawl tat wonna the relay stations liek?’
Dave was sure he heard the word “fault” somewhere in there, and assumed that there was a technical issue. ‘Keep trying, please Sharon, and let me know as soon as you get through.’
Dave switched the main view-screen to an external camera view and leaned back worrying about the small ship approaching. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time, but that wasn’t all that was worrying him.
The way things usually worked out for Tiger was nearly always the worst-case scenario, which hinted that this was no coincidence. He had a really bad feeling that the lack of comms wasn’t a technical issue at all: someone had deliberately cut them off.
--------------------
USS Auckland dropped out warp and approached Todot Hahn at sub-light velocity.
With that small period of grace, Dave’s thoughts immediately turned to the person with most to hide, and undoubtedly most knowledge of how to hide it.
He found Chief Reuben Money down in the stores complex on Deck 10, calmly feeding sardines to Skid, a small penguin who’d become the ship’s unofficial mascot.
Breathless and anxious, Dave charged into the compartment ‘Chief, we’ve got a problem . . . ‘
‘There are no problems, sir, only challenges to be overcome’ replied the Chief smugly.
‘Very nice Chief, but when the challenge comes in the shape of an imminent visit from the Judge Advocate General’s office, frankly, it’s a bloody problem’ growled Dave.
The Chief froze. He clearly realised the implications.
His mind was racing, and he didn’t snap out of it until Skid got fed up of waiting for the sardine to drop from his fingers and jumped up inelegantly to grab it, taking a piece of the Chief’s finger with the fish.
The Chief suddenly burst into action.
‘Winston! You and the heavy gang get everything that’s in a crate with a red tag and hide it. Nankivell, go to the office, gather any paperwork for off-ship transactions and destroy it. Nowacki, get all the cash and credit notes hidden. Staines, Okocha, get on to the terminals and wipe all transaction reports that start with an asterix. RED ALERT!! Move it people!!’
Ignoring Dave, he dashed to the turbo-lift, and unsure what to do, Dave sprinted after him. Inside the lift, the Chief shouted ‘Deck 6!’ then opened a comm-link to Engineering. ‘Park, I need you to meet me at the PILOCC in ten minutes!’
The little Korean was clearly non-plussed. ‘But I don’t work for you any more, Chief! I’m . . . ‘
‘If you don’t meet me at the PILOCC in ten, none of us will be working for anyone, ‘cos we’ll all be in the damned Brig! JAG are sending a team to Tiger. I’m going to clear the records off my personal account then we have to fake stores records for the last two years to replace all the transactions the rest of the team are purging from the computer core right now.’
‘Oh. Bummer. I’m on it’ said Park sounding worried, confused, and unsure all at the same time.
The Chief closed the comm-link and turned to Dave. ‘If you’ll excuse me sir, I have a lot to do and probably not enough time in which to do it.’
Dave winced ‘I hate to say it Chief, but I’m depending on you to do your absolute worst. I can’t afford to waste a day longer on this investigation than I have to.’
The Chief was visibly sweating by now. ‘Not gonna lie sir, we won’t get everything . . . there’s just too much of it. But stall the JAG team for a day and I’ll have removed eighty percent of the . . . problem. We won’t be in clear, but we’ll probably survive the prison term.’
Dave hoped the Chief was joking.
--------------------
Two hours later Dave waited in the Transporter Room. There had been a bare-minimum of communication as Auckland had taken station just astern of Tiger and in front of the gaggle of assault transports now shipping the refugees from another universe down to the surface.
The only communication from the ship was a terse message from the Operations Officer for the JAG team, Commander Ruiz:
‘Tiger, this is USS Auckland, please be advised that a representative from the Judge Advocate General’s office will be boarding your ship immediately. As the representative will be undertaking an official investigation on behalf of the Judge Advocate General, Starfleet General Order 4-4-1b requires that you comply with all further instructions from the representative and her team. Auckland out.’
Dave never even got the chance to reply, and headed meekly to the Transporter Room to wait for the representative’s arrival.
He waited and waited. Although he’d never been subject of an investigation before, he knew the routine. The JAG representative had absolute power when on official business, and they would use this to intimidate their targets. They were letting Dave stew specifically to unsettle him.
Una
nnounced, the Transporter began the jangling, tingling noise that signified a transport in progress.
‘Incoming transport from USS Auckland’ said Chief Carstairs somewhat unnecessarily.
Dave watched as six figures began to materialise, and as the lights faded, he looked them over.
The investigator, Captain Anastasia B’Stard was front and centre and stood out a mile. She was much taller than Dave had expected from his knowledge of her elder brother, but very slim and immaculately turned out. She was clearly an attractive woman, with piercing blue eyes sparkling above an aquiline but not unattractive nose. Her greying blonde hair was tied up in an impossibly neat bun, which left her face clear and unfettered. Her thin lips were set dead-straight, which gave Hollins the distinct impression that it had been many years since they’d attempted anything that would pass for a smile.
Beside her was a large muscular looking man, with a slightly swarthy complexion, dark eyes and dark, if thinning hair. He was wearing Commander’s rank insignia, and Dave assumed this must be Commander Ruiz, who would be in charge of the team of personnel the Captain had brought to assist her.
Behind them, almost hiding in the back-ground were a second Commander and a Lieutenant-Commander, who carried with him a large, bulky metal suit-case. Both were small, and indefinably grey. Dave couldn’t help but assume they were auditors.
Either side of the party were two, very, very large security men, sporting night-sticks, side-arms, body armour and permanent scowls. The JAG team appeared to be expecting trouble.
Dave put on his very best ‘welcome-to-the-ship’ smile and approached the platform, offering his outstretched hand to the Captain.
She stood on the platform looking down at him, her gaze never faltering as it swept from Dave’s hand to his face, and then back down, all the time looking both disdainful and insulted.
Ignoring the proffered hand she saluted smartly and introduced herself. ‘Captain Anastasia B’Stard, representing the Office of the Judge Advocate General.’
Dave realised that he’d just been reprimanded and stood to attention to return the salute. ‘Commander David Hollins, First Officer, USS Tiger. Welcome aboard Captain, how may we assist you?’
She still stood on the platform, enabling her to look down on him. ‘I was expecting to be met by Captain LaCroix. Am I to assume he is indisposed?’
On another day, Dave might have replied ‘No, he’s in dis Yeoman’ but he suspected that the Captain was probably even less familiar with the concept of humour than she was with smiling. ‘The Captain was not expecting your visit and is currently off-duty.’
B’Stard was clearly not impressed. ‘When I see him I’ll remind him that protocol dictates that a Captain should be greeted by an Officer of equal standing’ she huffed, casting a very critical eye over Dave. ‘However, as he hasn’t seen fit to show us that courtesy, I suppose you will have to do in the mean-time.’
She stepped down off the platform and swept past Dave, her entourage trailing in her wake and giving Dave a horrendous sense of déjà vu.
As she marched out of the compartment, she listed her instructions without even looking back to Dave.
‘I want quarters on Deck 5 for all of my team, and I require one conference room big enough for at least six occupants to be assigned to me for the duration of the investigation. You are to instruct your entire crew that they may be required to attend interviews at short notice, and I expect them to come when summoned, regardless of duty and rosters.’
She reached a turbo lift and pressed the button, but continued her monologue, in the evident expectation that Dave had followed her and was paying careful attention.
‘I will begin with informal interviews with senior staff first thing tomorrow morning. From these meetings I will ascertain who will then be interviewed formally. Commander Ruiz will make appointments on my behalf, and in parallel with that, Commander Cannon and Lieutenant-Commander Ruell will conduct a professional standards audit, beginning with a scan of ship’s logs and Officer’s logs. We will shortly be joined by an audit team from Starfleet Finance, and they will begin reviewing your ship’s accounts.’
Dave struggled to withhold a groan, and looked for a way to buy Chief Money more time before letting the JAG auditors loose on the computer’s records.
‘Are you aware that we have a non-standard computer and memory core, Captain?’ he began.
B’Stard finally looked at him, although it was more like a thinly veiled sneer. ‘Of course I am. A good officer prepares thoroughly prior to beginning an operation.’
‘Then you’ll know the interface isn’t standard either?’ asked Dave with his fingers crossed.
‘Indeed we are. Fortunately, Lieutenant-Commander Ruell has considerable expertise and will be able to affect a direct link between the Ship’s computer and our diagnostic equipment. Isn’t that right Ruell?’
‘Yes Ma’am, if Commander Hollins provides us with the interface specs we should be ready to begin in five to six hours.’
‘Excellent’ stated B’Stard, although it was clear she expected nothing less.
Turning to Dave, she said. ‘In that case, if you’d be so kind as to show us to our quarters, we’ll take a little time to freshen up and relax before we begin our inquisit . . . sorry . . . investigation.’
Dave led them out of the turbo-lift, showed them to the guest cabins on Deck 5, and as soon as they were inside, he sprinted for the Engineering Deck.
--------------------
‘Park, we’ve got until tomorrow morning – where’s Chief Money?’
The little Korean uber-geek was still hunched over Susan’s input console frantically typing commands. ‘He muttered something about hiding some sex-toys and ran off. Haven’t seen him since.’
‘Can you get everything done by tomorrow?’ asked Dave nervously.
‘Er . . . well . . . no. Not a chance. Won’t be even close’ he muttered without ever taking his eyes off the screen.
Oh crap thought Dave. ‘Just do whatever you can, it can’t make things worse.’
He headed to the stores on Deck 10 to find the place in uproar.
Dave found the Chief having a heated debate with Crewman Arness, one of his heavy gang. Arness was usually referred to by his nick-name: ‘One-watt’. He was the only person in the crew who was too dim to understand the implication of this epithet.
Arness was holding an armful of Godzilla-sized sex-toys and Dave arrived just as the Chief reached breaking point.
‘Do they look like they’re anything to do with the operation or maintenance of this fucking ship??’ growled the Chief.
Arness looked down at the huge weight of latex and thought about this for a good few seconds before replying. ‘Uh, no Chief.’
‘So wouldn’t you say it’s unlikely they’ve been procured through the Fleet logistic system?’ growled the Chief.
This was clearly a much more difficult question and even after another lengthy pause, Arness sounded far from certain. ‘No?’
Chief Money slapped his forehead theatrically and said ‘So get rid of them!!’
‘All of them?’ asked Arness, looking very worried.
‘No, keep one of the really large ones and have it mounted on the desk of the JAG representative’ growled Money sarcastically.
Arness nodded sagely, and the Chief sighed and gave in to the inevitable. ‘All of them please, Arness, every last one of them.’
‘What shall I do with them Chief?’ asked the neurone-deficient store-man.
Dave could see Money trying desperately hard not to give the obvious answer, and after taking a deep breath he settled for ‘Use your initiative.’
Arness ambled off, none the wiser, and clearly still at a loss. Initiative wouldn’t have been his strong point, even if he knew what the word meant.
Unwilling to wait any longer, Dave spoke up. ‘Bad news Chief, we’ve only got until first thing tomorrow before JAG start poking around.’
Money ran
both hands through his thinning hair and said ‘Well, that’s a challenge.’ He scratched his head reflectively and eventually decided on his strategy.
‘Ok sir, it’s like this. There are only three types of stores transactions. The legitimate, the illegitimate and the one’s we might possibly get away with. I’ll make sure Park and the rest of the team work on clearing out all of the definitely illegitimate transactions, but as the split runs about thirty, thirty, forty we won’t have time for much else, we’ll just have to indulge in some creative inaccuracy for the borderline stuff.’
‘Creative inaccuracy?’ asked Dave nervously.
The Chief shrugged. ‘In my experience a little inaccuracy can save a tonne of awkward explanations.’
‘So we’re going to lie our way out of this?’ Dave clarified.
‘Well, lie is a bit of a harsh word sir, there are endless shades of grey. Think of it as telling the useful bits of the truth and letting the auditors draw their own conclusions’ replied the Chief evasively.
Dave realised this would be a really good time to shut up and give in to the inevitable. ‘Ok Chief, I suppose you’re the expert.’
--------------------
Six hours later, Dave finally made it back to the Bridge. In his determination to try to hide the myriad illegal transactions carried out by Chief Money, he’d forgotten his concerns about the mysterious loss of communications with Command.
A single glance at Lieutenant Shearer told him all he needed to know. Her beautiful features were contorted by a frown as she tried but failed to find a way to communicate with head-quarters.
Dave knew his Comms Officer well enough to know that if she couldn’t find a way to communicate then no-one would.
He desperately needed to speak to Admiral O’Connor. They couldn’t afford the distraction of a JAG investigation just now, their mere presence aboard the ship was causing a commotion.
