Sleight4

    “Another thing, Captain,” said Fleury. “Twelve more are missing. Lieutenant Patterson included.”
     “Ready that particle beam,” said Mansel, ignoring the feeling of guilt and remorse wash over him.             “Lamb, prepare to fire on my mark.”
     There was no response from Lamb. Mansel turned to see his weapons officer gone. “Broadaway, get over there and fire that blue button there on my mark.”
     “Yes sir.”
     From her seat at Communications, Lieutenant Hardy yelled out “Chasers or not, we’re going baby!”
     Down in Engineering, Fleury worked to reverse the polarity of the deflector dish. Without his Lieutenant, he had to work twice as hard. Completing the task, Fleury went back to the wall mounted LCD screen.
     “Alright,” he said, “it’s a go!”
     “Fire now, Broadaway,” said Mansel.
     Broadaway pushed the blue button as he was directed to. From the Explorer came a high-pitched whine as the deflector dish powered it core and shot one massive beam, slamming into the tachyon field. There was a slight drop in power from the Explorer, but not enough to affect any systems.
     Mansel could see the field ripple and distort. The interruption of the particles from the particle beam counteracted with against the tachyon particles. “Transporter room,” said Mansel, “lock onto Commander Vaughn and beam him up.”
     “Acknowledged.” Mansel and Broadaway hustled to the transporter room, leaving Lieutenant Hardy in control of the bridge for the time being.
     The two met Vaughn at the door to the transporter room. “Give me an update,” the Captain instructed of his First Officer.
     Vaughn looked visibly shaken. “Slave labor,” he said before a shudder went through his body.
    “Once again,” said Mansel, “prepare to beam Lieutenant Commander Ames.”
    “Can’t, sir.” The transporter chief shook his head. “They’ve strengthened the power to the tachyon field. Not even the deflector beam can penetrate it.”
    “You used a deflector burst to get me out?” Vaughn asked, impressed.
    “Yeah,” said Mansel. “How are they getting our officers off the ship?”
Vaughn rubbed the bridge of his nose. “They have a much more complicated and updated transported system,” he said. “It seems that if transporting things is their biggest strength. That’s where all their technology is.”
     Before Mansel could respond, Lieutenant Hardy’s voice came over the wall mounted LCD display.           “Captain, enemy fighter approaching.”
     “Enemy fighters?” Mansel asked.
     “Oh yeah.” Vaughn sheepishly grinned. “Forgot to tell you, they have fighters, too.”
     “The Explorer is equipped for capital ship fighting, not snub fighters,” said Mansel. “Red alert!” The alarm echoed through every bulkhead and the lighting turned to crimson. Mansel, Vaughn, and Brodaway jogged back to the bridge.
      On the viewscreen, Mansel could see the fighters beginning to break to break into formations, starting their attack run.
      “We’ll have to go to guns,” decided Mansel, “or short phaser bursts.”
      “I’ll man guns,” offered Vaughn.
     “Broadaway,” said Mansel as the Explorer rocked from the first salvo of missiles. “Are there any carrier ships in close proximity to us?”
     “The closest is ten light years away, on its way back to Earth,” he reported.
     “Send it a message, Lieutenant,” said Mansel, “tell them that we’re in dire need of assistance. Apprise them of the situation quickly.”
     “Yes sir.” Lieutenant Hardy got to work on the distress call. The ship rocked again from hits scored by the wing of snub fighters.

     On the U.S.S. Titan, Captain Dmitry Andreyavich looked up when his Communications officer called his name.
     “Sir, we have a distress call from the Explorer.”
     Captain Andreyavich, who was not aware of the change of command, even after four months, frowned. “Explorer? That’s Mansel’s ship, isn’t it?”
     “Yes sir.”
     “Put it on speakers.” The bridge crew listened to Lieutenant Hardy give a brief description of the situation.
     “Helm,” he said, swiveling in his chair to face the helmsman, “lay in a course for Palla, translight speed.”
     “Course laid in, sir.”
     “Engage.” He swiveled back to the Communications officer after the Titan had reached faster-than-light speeds. “Lieutenant Hubert, put Armor Squadron and Milo Squadron on standby.”
      “Yes sir.”
     The Titan rocketed off to assist the Explorer.

     “Return fire,” said Mansel, holding onto the armrests of the Captain’s chair as the Explorer rocked from fire. “Use phasers.”
     The Explorer’s guns, in all its condensed destructive force, blared away, hammering at the miniscule fighters.
     “When is that carrier gonna arrive?” asked Commander Vaughn from Tactical.
     “Soon, hopefully,” said Mansel. “We’ll have to fend for ourselves until then.”
     “You know we could send a few of the armored shuttles out—”
     “This is no time for jokes, Vaughn.”
     “Of course, sir.”
     It was then that reinforcements arrived on both sides. As another squadron of the mysterious fighters came from the planet, the Titan came out of translight, guns blazing.
     “Release Armor Squadron and Milo Squadron,” Captain Andreyavich ordered in his thick Russian accent. “Hail the Explorer.” Soon, Mansel’s face appeared on his viewscreen. “Greeting, Captain,” the Russian starship Captain said, hiding his surprise at how much Mansel looked like his dad, the former commander of the Explorer. “What’s going on here?”
     “Officials of Palla have stolen crewmembers from my ship and put them into labor camps. It appears that the slaves are trying to build a starship.”
    “They have the capability to beam your crew right off the ship without you knowing, but they can’t build a ship in space?” Andreyavich asked, puzzled. “Why?”