Dude! I mean, Captain.
Also at AO3.
Young Justice, gen, AU, rated G.
Sitting in the captain's chair made Dick uncomfortable. He had known that when Kaldur graduated from the Academy he'd be taking over as leader of Red Squad, but it still felt awkward. The team had been on a number of missions in the past year, called in out of the Academy to backfill lower-priority missions that were close to home while the bulk of Starfleet was out on the front lines fighting the Dominion. The bioship was really feeling more like home than their Academy dorm these days, and they were starting to get used to their field commissions.
Dick took some comfort in the fact that despite the shortage Red Squad was still never sent on a mission without at least one experienced officer on board, and this time it was the android known as Tornado who was acting as the first officer.
"We're approaching the badlands, Captain," M'gann reported from the conn.
"Any other ships out there, Ensign Crock?"
"I'm not picking up anything, but there's a lot of plasma interference," Artemis replied.
"Recommend yellow alert," Conner reported from the security comm, "just in case."
Dick nodded and tapped his comm badge. "This is the Captain speaking. We're entering the badlands. This is a recon mission so we'll try to avoid engaging enemy ships, but be prepared for a bumpy ride." The plasma storms whirled around them on the screen as M'gann piloted the ship toward the coordinates where Admiral Wayne had reported recent Maquis activity. Their orders were simple: determine whether the Maquis had hired the mercenary called Sportsmaster and his crew. Dick glanced at Tornado, but the android's face was passive as ever, revealing little.
"Captain, I'm reading a power fluctuation in the cloaking device," Artemis reported, making faces at the console in front of her. "I think the plasma storms are interfering."
"Bridge to Engineering, can we do anything about the power fluctuations to the cloak?" Dick asked.
"On a normal ship yeah, but this is a bioship, dude. I mean, Captain." Dick couldn't help grinning; Wally had been struggling to remember to address his friends by their titles since their first mission together. "If she's taking power from the cloak she's got to have a reason for it. I think I can reroute some more power but it'll have to come from the inertial dampers. Hope you don't get spacesick!"
"Do it," Dick ordered. Without a functional cloak they were practically sitting ducks to any Maquis ships that might come through the area. The effect was immediate -- the ship began to shake in the turbulence, and there was a sickening roll to starboard as they circled around a gravitational anomaly.
"It's not enough," Artemis said. "The cloak is still flickering."
"Lieutenant West, what else can you give me?" Dick asked.
"That's it, Captain," Wally said in an irritated grumble. "The ship's not cooperating. You're gonna have to deal with the flicker."
"Okay, Lieutenant M'orzz, try to keep us as close to the vortexes as possible to make us harder to see." A flare of plasma extended from a vortex and lashed against the side of the ship, sending Dick staggering a few feet to the side.
"Shields down to 80 percent," Conner reported.
"Wally, can you get more power to the shields?" Dick asked, realizing his slip of protocol after the fact.
"I'm working on it," Wally replied. "Even with genetically enhanced speed I can only move so fast!"
"I'm reading something up ahead, I think it's a ship." Artemis tapped at the sensor display, trying to get a better reading. "It's not Federation."
"Red alert," Dick ordered. "On screen, maximum magnification." The ship was definitely not Federation, or Cardassian. But was it Sportsmaster's ship? "Ensign Zatara, are they transmitting on known Maquis frequencies?"
Zatanna frowned at the console. "Yes, they're sending encrypted transmissions, but I can't tell where they're going. I don't think there are any other ships in the area."
"It's a planet!" Artemis looked up at Dick in surprise. "There's a planet orbiting the gravitational anomaly. Maybe a Maquis base? The interference is too strong to get any good readings from this far away."
"Take us in closer, and keep an eye on the cloak." They flew in closer to the planet and ran a full sensor sweep, and were turning around to head back to the relative safety of the plasma field when the cloak went down again and the Maquis ship came about to pursue.
The ship was rocked with phaser fire, taking a direct hit on the first try. "Shields down to 50%," Conner reported.
"Target their weapons systems and open fire," Dick commanded.
"Direct hit, their phasers are disabled," Artemis said. "But they've locked on quantum torpedoes!"
Dick sighed. "Why do our recon missions always turn into disasters?" he asked nobody in particular.
"Don't worry Captain," Zatanna said with a grin, "it could still turn out to be an aster. They're hailing us."
"On screen." The screen blinked and the bridge of the Maquis ship came into view. It was like looking over a Federation's Most Wanted list. Sure enough, that was Sportsmaster in the Captain's chair, with his right-hand woman Cheshire at the conn. But standing behind them at the weapons station, was that--
"Roy?" Dick blurted out. He hadn't seen Roy in a year, nobody had, since he'd left the Academy after finding out he was a clone, and that the real Roy Harper had been the one who took and passed the entrance exams. Roy looked different, his hair grown out and stubble on his chin, clothes disheveled in a way that would never pass Starfleet inspection. Roy's eyes narrowed as he looked at the screen but he said nothing.
"Is Starfleet so short-handed that they're sending children out after the Maquis?" Sportsmaster asked, smirking. Out of the corner of his eye, Dick saw Artemis's hands tense on the console.
M'gann turned to face Dick, eyes flaring as she reached out telepathically to the other ship. "They're not going to kill us," she told him through their mental link.
"Red Squad are not children," Dick replied evenly, keeping eye contact with Sportsmaster. "You've broken Federation law by trading weapons and services to known terrorists. Turn yourselves in and maybe they'll go easy on you."
Sportsmaster laughed. "I don't think so, kid. You're lucky today though that I'm gonna go easy on you. Cheshire here has convinced me to give you a pass, for Artemis's sake. I'll give you five minutes to get the hell out of here before we fire torpedoes."
The transmission cut off. "Bridge to engineering, get us the hell out of here, NOW!" Dick ordered.
Five minutes later, they were safely on their way back to Federation space, and everyone was looking sideways at Artemis. "Ensign Crock," Dick said in his best Captain voice, "I'll expect a full report explaining how you know Sportsmaster . . . in the morning." He smiled at Artemis's surprise and relief. "For now, good job everyone. Maybe not quite as asterous as I would have liked, but mission accomplished."
This entry was originally posted at http://marmolita.dreamwidth.org/5720.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Young Justice, gen, AU, rated G.
Sitting in the captain's chair made Dick uncomfortable. He had known that when Kaldur graduated from the Academy he'd be taking over as leader of Red Squad, but it still felt awkward. The team had been on a number of missions in the past year, called in out of the Academy to backfill lower-priority missions that were close to home while the bulk of Starfleet was out on the front lines fighting the Dominion. The bioship was really feeling more like home than their Academy dorm these days, and they were starting to get used to their field commissions.
Dick took some comfort in the fact that despite the shortage Red Squad was still never sent on a mission without at least one experienced officer on board, and this time it was the android known as Tornado who was acting as the first officer.
"We're approaching the badlands, Captain," M'gann reported from the conn.
"Any other ships out there, Ensign Crock?"
"I'm not picking up anything, but there's a lot of plasma interference," Artemis replied.
"Recommend yellow alert," Conner reported from the security comm, "just in case."
Dick nodded and tapped his comm badge. "This is the Captain speaking. We're entering the badlands. This is a recon mission so we'll try to avoid engaging enemy ships, but be prepared for a bumpy ride." The plasma storms whirled around them on the screen as M'gann piloted the ship toward the coordinates where Admiral Wayne had reported recent Maquis activity. Their orders were simple: determine whether the Maquis had hired the mercenary called Sportsmaster and his crew. Dick glanced at Tornado, but the android's face was passive as ever, revealing little.
"Captain, I'm reading a power fluctuation in the cloaking device," Artemis reported, making faces at the console in front of her. "I think the plasma storms are interfering."
"Bridge to Engineering, can we do anything about the power fluctuations to the cloak?" Dick asked.
"On a normal ship yeah, but this is a bioship, dude. I mean, Captain." Dick couldn't help grinning; Wally had been struggling to remember to address his friends by their titles since their first mission together. "If she's taking power from the cloak she's got to have a reason for it. I think I can reroute some more power but it'll have to come from the inertial dampers. Hope you don't get spacesick!"
"Do it," Dick ordered. Without a functional cloak they were practically sitting ducks to any Maquis ships that might come through the area. The effect was immediate -- the ship began to shake in the turbulence, and there was a sickening roll to starboard as they circled around a gravitational anomaly.
"It's not enough," Artemis said. "The cloak is still flickering."
"Lieutenant West, what else can you give me?" Dick asked.
"That's it, Captain," Wally said in an irritated grumble. "The ship's not cooperating. You're gonna have to deal with the flicker."
"Okay, Lieutenant M'orzz, try to keep us as close to the vortexes as possible to make us harder to see." A flare of plasma extended from a vortex and lashed against the side of the ship, sending Dick staggering a few feet to the side.
"Shields down to 80 percent," Conner reported.
"Wally, can you get more power to the shields?" Dick asked, realizing his slip of protocol after the fact.
"I'm working on it," Wally replied. "Even with genetically enhanced speed I can only move so fast!"
"I'm reading something up ahead, I think it's a ship." Artemis tapped at the sensor display, trying to get a better reading. "It's not Federation."
"Red alert," Dick ordered. "On screen, maximum magnification." The ship was definitely not Federation, or Cardassian. But was it Sportsmaster's ship? "Ensign Zatara, are they transmitting on known Maquis frequencies?"
Zatanna frowned at the console. "Yes, they're sending encrypted transmissions, but I can't tell where they're going. I don't think there are any other ships in the area."
"It's a planet!" Artemis looked up at Dick in surprise. "There's a planet orbiting the gravitational anomaly. Maybe a Maquis base? The interference is too strong to get any good readings from this far away."
"Take us in closer, and keep an eye on the cloak." They flew in closer to the planet and ran a full sensor sweep, and were turning around to head back to the relative safety of the plasma field when the cloak went down again and the Maquis ship came about to pursue.
The ship was rocked with phaser fire, taking a direct hit on the first try. "Shields down to 50%," Conner reported.
"Target their weapons systems and open fire," Dick commanded.
"Direct hit, their phasers are disabled," Artemis said. "But they've locked on quantum torpedoes!"
Dick sighed. "Why do our recon missions always turn into disasters?" he asked nobody in particular.
"Don't worry Captain," Zatanna said with a grin, "it could still turn out to be an aster. They're hailing us."
"On screen." The screen blinked and the bridge of the Maquis ship came into view. It was like looking over a Federation's Most Wanted list. Sure enough, that was Sportsmaster in the Captain's chair, with his right-hand woman Cheshire at the conn. But standing behind them at the weapons station, was that--
"Roy?" Dick blurted out. He hadn't seen Roy in a year, nobody had, since he'd left the Academy after finding out he was a clone, and that the real Roy Harper had been the one who took and passed the entrance exams. Roy looked different, his hair grown out and stubble on his chin, clothes disheveled in a way that would never pass Starfleet inspection. Roy's eyes narrowed as he looked at the screen but he said nothing.
"Is Starfleet so short-handed that they're sending children out after the Maquis?" Sportsmaster asked, smirking. Out of the corner of his eye, Dick saw Artemis's hands tense on the console.
M'gann turned to face Dick, eyes flaring as she reached out telepathically to the other ship. "They're not going to kill us," she told him through their mental link.
"Red Squad are not children," Dick replied evenly, keeping eye contact with Sportsmaster. "You've broken Federation law by trading weapons and services to known terrorists. Turn yourselves in and maybe they'll go easy on you."
Sportsmaster laughed. "I don't think so, kid. You're lucky today though that I'm gonna go easy on you. Cheshire here has convinced me to give you a pass, for Artemis's sake. I'll give you five minutes to get the hell out of here before we fire torpedoes."
The transmission cut off. "Bridge to engineering, get us the hell out of here, NOW!" Dick ordered.
Five minutes later, they were safely on their way back to Federation space, and everyone was looking sideways at Artemis. "Ensign Crock," Dick said in his best Captain voice, "I'll expect a full report explaining how you know Sportsmaster . . . in the morning." He smiled at Artemis's surprise and relief. "For now, good job everyone. Maybe not quite as asterous as I would have liked, but mission accomplished."
This entry was originally posted at http://marmolita.dreamwidth.org/5720.html. Please comment there using OpenID.