Star Trek - Fingers Crossed
Copyright© 2026 by SilkStories
Chapter 12: Rogue Diplomacy
Lieutenant Carter’s voice echoed slightly from beneath the warp core as he worked, his PRAC clutched in one hand. “How is it now?”
I studied the flickering display at the engineering console, watching the power levels stabilize. “Minimal power flow,” I reported, a thread of cautious optimism coloring my tone, “but it’s definitely stronger than before.”
“That’s better than nothing,” Darius said as I exhaled heavily. We still weren’t anywhere close to restoring the warp core, but we’d managed to repair multiple critical systems. For now, we remained operational, traveling solely on our organic plasma thrusters.
Our ship breathed again. Our neural implants hummed with renewed energy. I discovered I could transport myself short distances, startling the crew appeared suddenly beside them.
Thankfully, Starfleet hadn’t detected us as they approached our last known coordinates. Once more, we slipped right past their sensor grid. Briefly, I considered surrendering to them for assistance in retrieving our captured crew—Garrett among them—but quickly dismissed the notion.
The lights within engineering glowed brighter as the ship stirred back to life, filling me with renewed determination.
“Main power is online, Captain,” Silas announced proudly. I met his declaration with an approving nod, the tension in my shoulders easing just slightly. “Good work, Ensign.”
“Are the turbolifts operational?” I asked, watching Silas strike a thoughtful pose before replying, “I believe so, Captain.” My eyebrows lifted slightly at his qualified response. “Only one way to find out,” I stated, moving toward the access doors.
The turbolift responded to my mental command and delivered me directly to the bridge. Only Ensign Rejal and Ensign Varek remained at their stations.
“We need someone at tactical,” I said, tapping my commbadge. “Captain to Lieutenant Michaels.” His voice crackled over the channel. “Yes, Captain?”
“I need you on the bridge to take over tactical,” I commanded.
“On my way, Captain.”
Mira swiveled from the helm, her expression tight with concern. “We’re going to get them back, Mira,” I promised quietly. She gave a single nod before returning to her console.
I settled into my command chair, the familiar contours molding to my body as the bridge hummed around me. Ensign Rejal swiveled from her station, her voice cutting through the low thrum of systems. “We have impulse engines, Captain.”
A flicker of relief passed through me - another small victory in our fight to restore the Seeker. I gave her a curt nod, my gaze sweeping across the bridge displays. “Very well. Standby, Ensign.”
The turbolift hissed open and Lieutenant Michaels emerged, offering a crisp “Captain!” as acknowledgment. I gave a brief nod while he moved toward the tactical station.
Michaels turned to me, his brow furrowed. “Captain, what about the Ferengi?” he asked as I glanced up. Damn, I’d forgotten about him. “Has he been fed, Lieutenant? I don’t want him dying on me.” Michaels nodded, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, Captain. Though he wasn’t exactly pleased with our ‘bland food.’” He punctuated the last two words with air quotes and a wry twist of his lips.
A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Good. Make it blander.” Michaels met my gaze, his own lips curling in wry amusement as he replied, “Aye, Captain.”
I strode down the narrow passage toward the brig, my boots echoing against the deck plating. Through the forcefield, I spotted Nogrix curled in an awkward position, emitting raspy snores.
“Captain!”
I turned to Ensign Thomas, who stood vigil at the control panel monitoring our prisoner.
“Wake him up, Ensign,” I ordered, standing rigidly with my hands clasped behind my back. Thomas tapped his console, triggering a piercing alarm that jolted Nogrix violently awake. The Ferengi scrambled upright, clamping his hands over his ears as he let out an agonized shriek.
“Sleep well?”
“I should have killed you when I had the chance, huu-maan.”
“I told you I’d catch you again,” I said, my voice low and steady. “So here’s how this will unfold—you’re going to tell me everything.”
He scoffed, letting loose a guttural laugh that echoed off the brig walls. “It’s only a matter of time before my associates track me down,” he sneered, baring jagged teeth. “And when they do...”
“Where can I find Rodek?” I cut in as Nogrix’s brows furrowed with confusion.
“What?!”
“I’ve heard you’ve had dealings with him.”
Nogrix’s jaw went slack as he puzzled over the unexpected question.
“The Klingon?” he sputtered, incredulous, as I gave a curt nod.
“What does he have to do with the Kaelaris?” he asked, his expression shifting to utter bewilderment.
“Nothing.”
Nogrix’s confusion still etched on his face, “And what do you plan to do?”
“That’s confidential, I need to know his current whereabouts.”
Nogrix glanced around at the stark confinement, his expression souring. “These accommodations hardly encourage conversation,” he muttered petulantly.
“I will confine you to your own personal quarters if comfort is your concern,” I assured him as his eyes widened with surprise. “We’ll address the Kaelari situation when the time is appropriate,” I added, maintaining steady eye contact.
Nogrix’s ridged brow lifted thoughtfully. “Okay, Captain,” he conceded after weighing the proposal. “Deal.”
I stepped onto the bridge from the turbolift. “Captain on the bridge,” Lieutenant Michaels announced as I settled into my chair and activated the comm signal embedded in my armrest panel. “Captain to Lieutenant Carter.”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Do we have warp drive?”
“Not yet, Captain,” he replied. “We have full impulse power, but warp drive will require another five hours of repairs.” My lips pressed together as I absorbed this unwelcome news.
“Very well,” I said, turning to the helm. “Ensign Rejal, set course for Narendra III. Full impulse.”
“Captain, it would take us six months and fourteen days on full impulse,” Mira stated.
I rolled my eyes. “I plan to go to warp as soon as we have it, Ensign,” I snapped. She dipped her chin in acknowledgment. “Of course, Captain.”
“Course laid in, Captain.”
“Engage.”
As we traveled through space at full impulse, I let my eyelids drift shut and sensed the resonating pulses emanating from around the vessel. The living tendrils breathed steadily, sending out their rhythmic signals.
“Captain,” Mira said in surprise, “We’re accelerating.” I smiled at the report.
“Delores! Are you receiving me?”
My eyes widened as I scanned our surroundings, breath catching in my throat. “Admiral?” I exhaled softly.
“It’s me Delores, can you speak?”
I rose from my chair and crossed to my ready room. The doors parted before me, and I stepped inside.
“I’m here Admiral.”
“How are you, Delores?” The warmth in Admiral Janeway’s voice caught me off guard, and my vision blurred with sudden moisture. “I’m ... okay, Admiral,” I managed to reply, my throat tightening around the words.
“That’s good to hear,” Admiral Janeway continued, her tone shifting toward concern. “We’ve been attempting to reach you through your neural implants but haven’t been able to establish a connection.”
My head lowered as I gathered my thoughts. “We were attacked, Admiral,” I admitted, the truth heavy on my tongue. “Our ship sustained significant damage that disrupted our neural implants.”
“Do you have any casualties?”
I didn’t know how to answer. Revealing the truth about our missing crew members could jeopardize our plans to recover them safely.
“A few injuries to the crew,” I replied, my voice steady despite the weight pressing against my ribs. “Thankfully, none fatal.”
“Who attacked you?”
I released a slow exhale. “An Orion interceptor ambushed us,” I confessed, my voice tight with the memory. “We only just managed to escape.”
“Listen to me, Delores,” the admiral’s voice took on an urgent edge. “You must return to the nearest starbase immediately. Those neural implants put you and your entire crew in grave danger.”
“I have something I need to do first, Admiral.”
“No, Delores,” Admiral Janeway’s voice hardened with command. “I’m giving you a direct order.”
My eyelids sank shut as my lips trembled, releasing a shaky exhale before the words left me: “I can’t, Admiral.”
I heard an exasperated sigh escape Admiral Janeway. “Oh, Delores,” she said, disappointment coloring her tone.
I felt a bit of hardened resolve as I said, “Did you receive my logs, Admiral?”
“We did,” she confirmed, her tone turning somber. “About the Kaelari ... and what they endure.”
“They’re being butchered, Admiral,” I said, the words scraping raw against my throat. “For sustenance. We recovered limbs from Pelara III.”
“Believe me, this is being discussed within the Federation Council.” Janeway paused before adding, “You’ve done commendable work exposing this situation, Delores, but you aren’t equipped to confront this threat alone.”
My head tilted back as my eyes rolled upwards, glistening with moisture as my lips pressed hard together, “I ... have no choice, Admiral.”
The Admiral paused, letting the silence stretch between us like taut wire before she spoke again. “Alright, Delores,” she conceded, her tone measured yet firm. “But hear this clearly: I expect full disclosure regarding your activities and objectives moving forward. No more disobeying my orders.” A deliberate pause hung in the air before she finished with quiet emphasis. “Is that understood ... Captain?”
I drew a sharp breath as Admiral Janeway acknowledged my rank, my head dipping in affirmation. “Yes, Admiral,” I responded, the weight of responsibility settling firmly upon my shoulders. “I will keep you informed.”
“Good,” Admiral Janeway continued, her tone shifting toward pragmatic efficiency. “I’m restoring your access to the Starfleet database. You shouldn’t be operating in the dark.”
“Thank you Admiral,” I whispered.
“I’ll be in contact, Delores ... good luck.”
Admiral Janeway severed the neural link, leaving me alone with the weight of her expectations. I drew a heavy breath, acutely aware that I’d just pledged to keep Starfleet Command informed of our unsanctioned operation.
I settled into the chair behind my desk in the ready room and activated the computer terminal. Just as Janeway promised, my credentials granted access to the full Starfleet database once more.
My fingers flew across the interface as I immediately began searching the database for information about the Klingon, Rodek.
Rodek, Son of Noggra. A Klingon warrior, believed to have been born around 2345 on Qo’noS. Few details are known about his early life.
Starfleet Intelligence has flagged Rodek as a person of interest. He is believed to have connections to elements within the Orion Syndicate, though the exact nature of his involvement is unclear.
His full background and origins remain obscure. Much of his record prior to 2374 has been sealed by order of the Klingon High Council. Inquiries about his past are discouraged.
I frowned at the screen. Rodek was proving to be a man of considerable mystery. The data suggested possible Orion connections - perhaps even with T’Vreen herself. The sealed records only deepened my suspicions about him.
My fingers drummed a restless rhythm against the command chair’s armrest as my gaze dropped to the deck plating. Thoughts of my captured crew, particularly Garrett, dominated my mind - all of them still imprisoned aboard that damned Interceptor.
My stomach churned at the thought of what might be happening to Garrett right now. That Orion viper was probably interrogating him ... or worse, using her charms to seduce him. My vision sharpened with cold fury as I ground out the words through clenched teeth, “I’ll kill that bitch,” I swore under my breath.
Darius’ voice crackled over the comm system. “Carter to bridge.” My pulse quickened as I leaned forward in the command chair. “Go ahead, Lieutenant,” I responded, unable to conceal the hopeful edge in my voice.
“We have been able to bring warp engines back online,” he said. I nearly launched myself out of my chair as he added, “We are capable of warp factor two for now captain, but we’re working on it.” My expression fell.
“Good work, Lieutenant. Keep me informed,” I said. “I always do, Captain,” came his reply. My lips pressed together as I gave a small shake of my head.
“Ensign Rejal!” I started, but she cut in with “Go to warp, Captain?” before I could complete the order. “Let me finish, Ensign,” I snapped. Mira gave a quick nod as I rose from my seat.
“Ensign, go to warp two.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Ensign Rejal maintained her position at the helm, Lieutenant Michaels stood ready at tactical, and Ensign Varek remained stationed at communications.
“We’re approaching the Orion Interceptor, Captain,” Mira said. “Slow to impulse, Ensign. As we get closer, cut the main engines and use the organic plasma thrusters to edge us in.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“Shields up, Lieutenant,” I ordered.
Lieutenant Michaels confirmed, “Shields are up, Captain.”
The insistent beeping at T’Pren’s console made me flinch. I turned toward her just as she announced, “Captain, T’Vreen is hailing us.”
I rose from my chair and drew myself up to full height, projecting every ounce of command presence I possessed.
“On screen.”
The viewer opened to reveal the Interceptor’s bridge. T’Vreen stood center frame in deliberately provocative attire - a cropped top that bared her midriff completely, one hand resting defiantly on her hip. She cocked her head sideways, a single eyebrow arched in challenge as she faced us.
“Captain Vance,” she said with a smirk.
My eyes narrowed. That damned woman. Had she been parading around my crew dressed like that? Shoving her breasts in Garrett’s face?
“Do you have our package?” T’Vreen asked.
I rolled my eyes at her suggestive emphasis on the word “package.” “If you mean Rodek,” I said flatly, “yes we have him. In our brig.”
T’Vreen’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Did he give you a little trouble?”
“Nothing we couldn’t handle.”
“You have your shields up, are you trying to tell me something, Delores?”
“I want my crew back first,” I said, my voice steady with resolve. “Then we’ll make the swap.”
“That was not the deal.”
“Well you deceived me when you took my crew,” I stated evenly. “You’ve already broken our agreement.”
T’Vreen glanced toward one of her crewmen. “They’re charging weapons, Captain,” Lieutenant Michaels warned from tactical.
“Red Alert!”
The bridge’s red alert lights throbbed in the background, casting everything in a crimson hue that underscored our precarious situation.
The deck plates groaned beneath my boots as the interceptor’s disruptor cannons slammed into our forward shields.
“Shields at forty percent, Captain!” Michaels shouted over the groaning metal as another disruptor blast slammed into our defenses.
I fell back into my chair, “Why do we have such bad shielding?” I shouted back out.
“Fire all phasers,” I yelled.
Our phaser fire barely registered against the Interceptor’s shields, failing to even shift T’Vreen from her smug stance as she watched us with that infuriating grin through the viewscreen.
Another devastating impact slammed into our defenses with their full force. The deck plates shuddered violently once again as the lights flickered. “We’ve lost shields, Captain,” Michaels reported tensely as I pressed my lips into a hard line.
“Mira, get us out of here,” I screamed.
“Aye, Captain.”
Without warning, two massive Orion males materialized onto our bridge, rifles in hand.