Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!agate!doc.ic.ac.uk!uknet!root44!praxis!tjh From: tjh@praxis.co.uk (Tim Huckvale) Subject: NEW STORY: Minor Misdirections (part 01/02) Message-ID: <1993Sep23.174632.6884@praxis.co.uk> Organization: Praxis, Bath, U.K. Date: Thu, 23 Sep 1993 17:46:32 GMT Lines: 741 Here is my TNG story, Minor Misdirections. I hope you enjoy it. ======================================================== Thanks to my dad for posting this, and for bringing home diskfulls of Alt.Startrek.Creative. If you mail him to say how wonderful my story is, he doesn't mind passing comments on. ======================================================== Usual disclaimers apply to protect the innocent. This story can be freely distributed as long as this header is included. ======================================================== _/_/_/_/ _/_/_/_/_/_/ _/_/_/_/ _/_/_/_/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/_/_/ _/_/ _/_/_/_/_/_/ _/_/_/_/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/_/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/_/_/_/_/ _/_/_/_/_/ _/_/_/_/_/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/_/_/ _/_/ _/_/_/_/_/ _/_/_/_/_/ _/_/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/_/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/ _/_/_/_/_/ _/_/ _/_/ MINOR MISDIRECTIONS ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ by Magnus T Huckvale ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Teaser ~~~~~~ The Borg ship approached the planet, it's uni-mind concentrating on one thing, assimilation. The Borg detected a small ship, a thousandth the size of the enormous cybernetic cube. It dismissed it as irrelevant. The ship, unmistakenly a Federation shuttlepod, fired an irrelevant phaser blast at the Borg. The Borg carried on towards the planet, preparing its systems for attack. The irrelevant phaser blast became an annoying irrelevant phaser blast. The uni-mind scanned the shuttle. No lifeforms. Impulse engines only. One phaser cannon. Unidentified shape inside. It decided on a course of action: Destruction. From a corner of the cube came a glowing beam, catching the shuttle, enveloping it, slowly crushing it into oblivion. The uni-mind detected movement, a bright white light, leaving the shuttle. The light travelled up the Borg tractor beam, through the shield. The Borg detected fantastic amounts of energy. It looked for a course of action when it was suddenly enveloped in darkness. The last thought to pass through the uni-mind, a partly formed question, roughly translates as "What the f". The words blinked on the ready room viewscreen, 'End Simulation', and were quickly replaced by Admiral Quinn. "Wonderful isn't it," he said enthusiastically "our latest Anti-Borg weapon. We send a modified Photon Torpedo right up their tractor beam. Then six miniature warp drives rip a hole in space. The Borg don't stand a chance." "But will it work like the computer simulation Admiral?" asked Geordi. "That's what we hope. Unfortunately we've had to move the development operation. You're taking the prototype and plans to Starbase 19. From then on it's classified. I can't stress how important it is that the torpedo gets to Starbase 19, if it got into the wrong hands, the results could be disasterous. This weapon could destroy a whole planet if used correctly." "Don't worry Admiral, we'll get it there." Picard assured. "Enterprise out." "Captain's log Stardate 44197.4 Our journey to Starbase 19 has passed without trouble. It will be a great weight off my mind when the Anti-Borg weapon has been safely delivered. The Federation needs it if another Wolf 359 is to be avoided. I only hope it can be used before members of the Federation are... assimilated." The Enterprise was nearing Starbase 19, it wasn't staying long, and slid into position slightly below the enormous disc that formed the top part of the Starbase. A sleek, but evidently Ferengi ship passed the Enterprise on its way to the space doors. Aboard the bridge, Riker watched in awe. "The Majestic Swan, the fastest ship in the galaxy." he murmered, mostly to himself. "It's said it can reach warp 9.9" put in the Captain. Worf rather put a dampener on the atmosphere of admiration. "I don't see the big attraction. It would be like sitting in one big warp drive." "Humans have always had a fascination with speed," Data explained, "and I have to admit.." "UNFORTUNATELY we are not here to sightsee." interrupted the Captain, "Mr Worf, is Starbase 19 ready for the torpedo?" "Starbase 19 signals that they are ready to beam the torpedo aboard." "Bridge to Transporter Room Three, are you ready to transport the torpedo?" Picard said into the intercom. Geordi answered. "We have it waiting on the transporter pad now, Sir." "Proceed" The slick black torpedo shimmered and disappeared in a soft glow. It re-appeared in a smaller room aboard the Starbase. Three security guards stepped on to the pad. The senior guard spoke. "Enterprise, we have received the torpedo." A bleep from the com-panel acknowledged him. "Willis, would you go and find out what the hold-up with the grav-trolley is please?" he said. "Sure boss," Willis replied. He hurried out through the door. Watch the Enterprise twist round towards it's next mission, and stretch into infinity. Now look inside the Starbase. Watch all the lights go out. Watch all the doors locking tight shut. Watch the Starbase go dead. Roll credits... ======================================================== STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION - MINOR MISDIRECTIONS ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part '1' - Surprises and Salutations ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Vulcan freighter was dwarfed by the ancient Klingon Bird of Prey. "Please... Klingon ship... Help us..." All on the Klingon bridge listened to the distress call. The captain signaled his comms officer to hail the freighter. "Freighter, this is the Car'shek. State your problem." "We have total power loss, we need an energy beam to our warp core." "Standby." The Klingon turned to his shipmates. "Shall we bother to help them?" he asks, mockingly. Another Klingon starts to speak, but is interrupted by the soft glow of a transporter beam. "Whaaaaaaaat?" yells the Captain, his words distorted as he disappears. The twelve crew of the Car'shek reappeared in makeshift transporter pads aboard the freighter. The freighter drifted on, while the Klingon ship turned and warped away, shimmering into nothing. The bridge of the Enterprise was filled with conversation. Data was explaining speed to Geordi, and Troi was talking to Riker and the Captain about a book she'd been reading. Picard listened politely, while Riker listened dutifully. Worf was the only one not engaged in conversation. He was fiddling with his console. He touched several areas in sequence, and received a low bleep to signify failure. He pushed the areas again, as if more pressure would make a difference. The same bleep sounded back at him. "Sir, I am having difficulty in contacting Starbase 19 to inform them of our departure. I do not think our transmissions are being received." Picard, realising that this could mean danger for the torpedo, ordered the ship to be turned around. Stars streaked sideways across the viewscreen, indicating that the ship was maneuvering and after a few seconds the planet came back into view. Picard had to look twice to see the Starbase, a dark ice-cream cone above the planet. "Data, is there any energy coming from the Starbase?" "There is a small power reading from Operations Control, but in the rest of the base only life support and the doors are energised, although the doors would appear to be locked rather than activated." Picard frowned. He was about to speak when Worf interrupted. "We are being hailed from a ship in the Starbase Sir." "On screen." A slightly pale, thick set humanoid appeared on the main viewscreen. He had a phaser pointed at the Starbase commander, Admiral Traqu. "Captain Picard, I presume. We have taken control of this Starbase for the time being. Do not attempt to defeat us by force, we have a Ditronic bomb and we will not hesitate to destroy the whole Starbase if you do not co-operate." "Who are you and what do you want?" "Who I am is not important. But our group wants prisoners released and our safe passage guaranteed." Picard considered this, there was no chance that the UFAP would release any prisoners, but if he let this terrorist know this, what would he do? "Admiral, have you seen this bomb?" he asked. "Yes, I have Picard. It's definitely for real. As your Senior Officer in the vicinity, I order you to do as this man says. Contact Starfleet command and tell them his requests." "Listen to him, Picard" said the terrorist. "Do as I say and no-one will get hurt. On Rura Penthe, we want the Koalsen renegades, the Beykore prison camp leaders, and the Trinoarso freedom fighter, Tarth Coron released." The terrorist listed other criminals from the Federation's prison planet, Borkra 7. When he had finished, Picard ordered Data to contact Starfleet from the ready room. "We'll see what we can do. It is, however up to Starfleet." he said. "Well you can blame them when we blow up this Starbase." the terrorist retorted. "In the meantime, I want your word that no-one will be harmed." "I can agree to that, Picard. All the doors in the Starbase are locked shut, and life support systems are fully operational. No-one will be harmed. For the meantime." The screen flicked back to the darkened Starbase. Picard turned round. "Geordi, I want information on whoever this is that we're dealing with." Geordi nodded and moved to the Library computer. An ensign efficiently replaced him at the helm. "Worf, dig up any plans we have of Starbase 19. We may be forced to remove these terrorists by force so I want you to formulate an attack plan." At this, Worf brightened. He had been controlling himself during Picards conversation with the terrorist. Ancient emotions rose inside him. This day, he may go into battle. Picard turned to Troi. "Counsellor, did you sense anything from him?" "Very little, Captain. But I do believe that if he says he will destroy the Starbase, he will do so." "Does he know about the Anti-Borg torpedo?" Riker asked. Troi's reply was uncertain. "I cannot say either way for sure, but I do get the feeling he's hiding something." "Then we must assume for the moment that he doesn't, but our first priority is to find out." Data hurried on to the bridge. "Starfleet Command wants to talk with you Sir, I have secured a channel." "Put it on the screen." The crusty figure of Admiral Quinn appears on screen. Admiral's Staedtler and Kepler sat next to him. Quinn was the first to speak. "Is the channel secure?" "Yes Admiral. There have been no further developments since Commander Data spoke to you. We do have more information, all the doors in the starbase have been locked, and the life support systems are operating. The terrorist who spoke to us says that no-one will be harmed if we co-operate." "That may not be possible." said Staedtler. "We have contacted Klingon high command, and they say they won't release anyone from Rura Penthe. We are reluctant to release our own prisoners on Borkra 7 also. Therefore you are to stall for time until the joint Klingon and Federation anti-terrorist units arrive. We think a cloaked ship is the only way we can get in, previous attempts at hiding troops in supply ships have been, er, unsuccessful." "The Tayros Four incident, I heard." Several weeks ago, terrorists had taken over a small station orbiting Tayros Four. The anti-terrorist unit had been hidden in the hold of a freighter carrying food to the terrorists. Unfortunatly the terrorists decided not to dock the ship but to beam the food off and shoot it down. 30 troops were killed. "You must prevent the Terrorists from finding this torpedo, I know I don't need to elaborate on this." "Understood Sir. We'll do our best." "I know, Picard. And there's a hundred thousand people on that starbase who are counting on you and your crew." When the Admirals had disappeared from the screen, Picard cursed Quinn. Why did he have to remind him of the pressures on him and his crew? Geordi broke his thoughts. "We have found out who the terrorist is, Captain. His name is Ivadd Shorek, a Trinonian." "Good. Scan the Starbase for any other Trinonian lifeforms. If you find any try and match them to criminal DNA records." Picard said. "What do we know about Shorek?" asked Riker. "He has been arrested several times for initiating violent demonstrations calling for the release of the Koalsen renegades." replied Data. "Shorek mentioned them, who are they?" "The Koalsen renegades were accused three years ago of bombing the Romulan outpost of the same name." Data explained. "They were never brought to trial as a Klingon patrol picked up their Escape Pods after they attacked a Klingon freighter. They're serving four years each on Rura Penthe." "What's the link with the other criminals?" "None that we can find, I hypothesise that Shorek wants to use his position to it's full advantage. It's possible he is being paid to ensure their release as well." "We must find out who Shorek is working with." mused Picard. "How did he power down the Starbase?" "Shorek has little experience or knowledge of electronic systems or machinery. He must have an accomplice or accomplices. If we had access to the Starbase's computers we could get a list of all arrivals in the past few months." Data thought for a moment. "It won't be possible to access these records with the computer network shut down." "Damn. Do we have a list of ships currently in the Starbase?" "Yes Sir, right here." Data's hands moved over the panel with lightning efficiency. A list of ships flashed up on the screen. "None of these ships are registered in Shorek's name. Shorek probably arrived on this one. A private ship, the Trauneck. It arrived two days ago direct from Trinon." Geordi approached. "I found two other Trinonians on the Starbase, Captain. I found no DNA match in our criminal database so I tried the Starfleet one. It appears one of the Trinonians is Reygor Toul. His records show a sister, Baugor, and the other Trinonian's DNA is similar, but female so I assume it's her." As Geordi spoke Data searched the Starfleet database. "Reygor Toul was a Lieutenant in the engineering department of Starbase 34 but left Starfleet a year ago. After working in engineering he would indubitably have thorough knowledge of all Starbase systems." Data said. "So he would know how to disable a Starbase?" asked Riker. "I believe that is what I just said." One of very few working doors in the Starbase hissed open. "Ivadd?" "What is it now?" "Have you thought about my request?" "I have thought about it, yes." "And?" "You are right. Twenty thousand credits is not nearly enough. But fifty thousand is too much. I will pay you thirty." "Thirty!" Nivvo nearly screamed. "I will not settle for less than forty." "Thirty-two." "Now wait just a minute. I went to a lot of trouble to get the weapons past security, and you think it's only worth thirty-two thousand credits?" "Thirty-five, my final offer. I can see we should have decided on this before." "Thirty-five will do. I only want what I deserve." Nivvo turned and stormed out of the control room. "You'll get what you deserve." Shorek breathed. He turned his attention back to the box. It was a small box, about five centimetres long, slightly rounded, and with a small panel at one end. He waited. "Shorek is hailing us, Sir." "On screen." Shorek's gleeful face appeared on the screen. "Picaaard! I have decided to show goodwill by releasing a shipfull of hostages." "In return for what?" "Nothing, Picard." Shorek laughed. "I merely want to show that I don't want anybody hurt. The ship will be leaving the Starbase soon." Picard started to speak, but Shorek disappeared. Instead, he turned to Deanna. "What do you make of that?" he asked her. "I'm not sure. I'm getting strong feelings of him wanting your confidence, but it could be because he wants you to trust him enough to make a mistake." "Trust is the only thing he can gain from releasing a ship. He can't release all hundred thousand hostages like that." "Unless there's a spy on board." Put in Riker. "We shouldn't beam anyone across from the ship just in case." "Agreed." The great space doors slid open to let the freighter out. Shorek watched the freighter leave. One touch of a button from him could destroy it. But that wasn't want he wanted to do. But if he wanted to, he could. He felt the control over thousands of lives flow through him. He could do anything he wanted to. But he didn't want to do anything, it was something, something specific. He had decided on what to do about Nivvo. He had a strange feeling it was ironic, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why. "Let us out! Will someone open this bloody door!" "Give up, Mike. That door's pretty solid." "Tell me about it. I wonder what happened to Willis." "He's probably locked in somewhere. I wish I knew what was going on." Senior Security Guard Neil Espianek was used to not knowing what was going on. That was one part of being in Starfleet Security. Neil didn't know it, but the other part of being in Starfleet Security will happen in approximately ten seconds. "Stand back, I think we can open it." shouted a muffled voice from behind the door. The door seal lit up, obviously someone had helpfully allowed power through. Neil and Mike watched the door slide open, with the familiar swish. Mike said "Hey, who the hell are you?" and slumped over the torpedo. Neil just stared in surprise at the hole in his chest and fell over. At least someone had turned up with the grav-trolley. ======================================================== STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION - MINOR MISDIRECTIONS ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part '2' - The one that got away ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ If it helps, imagine that Picard's disembodied voice is giving this log entry, while all we can see is Starbase 19, the Enterprise, and some old freighter floating above the planet. "Captains Log, Supplemental. We are stalling Ivadd Shorek for the mean time, while awaiting the arrival of Starfleet's anti-terrorist team. We have to contain the situation for seven hours. Shorek seems to be in no hurry but I'm sure there is more to this situation than it seems." "The Freighter Ryosalk wishes to know if you have any objections to the hostages being beamed down to the planet, Sir." said Worf. "Tell them it'll be fine, but they're to be contained on the planet until this situation is over." Picard turned to Geordi. "Geordi, I want to know the weaknesses of the Anti-Borg torpedo. If Shorek has it, we must neutralise it before he can get it out of our reach." "I'm not sure that there are any weaknesses, Sir. That is why Starfleet is developing it as an Anti-Borg weapon. But if there are any, we'll find them. I'll be in engineering." "Good luck Lieutenant." "I still can't believe that three people can take over a Starbase. Shorek must have more people working with him." said Riker. "It is more likely that he has people working for him." answered Data, always ready to put Riker right. "Shorek has been known in the past to pay mercenaries to do his dirty work. A year ago, a Trinonian high councillor was assassinated after beginning an investigation into Shorek. Many Trinonians suspected Shorek of hiring the assassin, but nothing was proven because the assassin himself was killed." "Call up the list of Security threats." ordered Picard. A list of people on the Starbase with criminal records is automatically transmitted to Federation Starships as they approach every starbase. This list now appeared on the terminal. It was about five hundred names long and slowly scrolled over the screen. "None of these ring any bells." Picard murmered under his breath. He spoke up. "Which of these are likely to be involved with Shorek?" "We can eliminate anyone who hasn't commited felonies for five years with only a 91% margin of error. Also, anyone who has not been involved in violent crimes with a 99.8% margin." Data's hands moved swiftly over the computer. The list was whittled down to three hundred, and then only sixty suspects. "If you wait for three minutes I can read each individual file and determine which criminals are best suited to this work." "Make it so." said Picard. "It must take incredible planning to take over a Starbase." mused Riker. "Undoubtably. This Shorek is not stupid. Although, once the doors are sealed shut, and if the com system was disabled, anyone inside the Starbase would find it very difficult to escape." Now that the Klingon Empire has more or less joined with the Federation, Klingon technology has been made available to Federation Starships. This means that the Enterprise can now detect cloaked Klingon ships if they look for them. It was a shame they weren't looking, because they would have noticed the one approaching Starbase 19. Since it is blindingly obvious by now that Shorek is after the torpedo, one fact might as well be made clear as a warning to others. Data has made the assumption that the mercenaries would be interested in the release of terrorists. He is wrong and his list is entirely incorrect, but the overall information gained from the list could apply to the real terrorists with one minor difference. Data's criminals want the release of people who stand up against evil dictators, or campaign for the independance of planets absorbed into unwanted alliances. These are people who want the right thing, but use the wrong means. Shorek's buddies are in it for the money. You can learn from Data's mistake - if you are eliminating suspect terrorists from a list on a computer, don't assume anything. Fortunately it was not a complete disaster, Data realises exactly how innacurate his list is. Shorek, oblivious to this, sat watching his box. His eyes focused on the panel. He wished it would flash. it should have flashed by now. He *really* wished it would flash. It flashed. "I have eliminated all but eight suspects, Sir. Most of them have criminal records relating to attempts to release criminals from prison planets." "What can you tell us about these suspects?" asked Picard. "They all originate from unstable planets and have a history of being involved in violent campaigns. Many of them want the release of some of the criminals Shorek mentioned. There is a thirty-four percent chance that I am in error." "That is higher than normal. Because of this I don't think we can take it as read that these guys are working with Shorek." "Wrong for a change, eh Data?" asked Riker, successfully holding down a smirk. "No." replied Data. "From the available information I have constructed the most likely list of accomplices." "Oh," said Riker, disappointed. Worf, who had been listening intently to the others, noticed his terminal telling him: Subspace hail detected. Originator: Ivadd Shorek, Starbase 19. Worf translated this into Federation Standard. "Shorek is hailing us again, Sir." "Put him on the screen." This was beginning to irritate the Captain. "I'll get straight to the point, Picard. When can the Rura Penthe prisoners and their brothers on Borkra 7 be released?" "We have informed Starfleet of your demands, and they are talking to Klingon High Command. Unfortunately the paperwork may take some time." "Beaurocrats! No matter, we are in no hurry. I have decided to release another ship. Expect it in ten minutes." "That is very..." Picard started, but Shorek had gone. "Why does he *do* that?" "I sensed a feeling of elation as he turned off the screen. He knows you can't do anything and enjoys the sensation of power he has over you." Deanna replied in her annoying level, silky voice. "He didn't seem very tense, quite the opposite." "No, he is unusually relaxed for people in his position. However, I believe he will not harm anyone as long as we play by his rules, or seem to." "So all we can do is wait, and hope." Picard said, with an air of finality - as if to finish the scene. "I'll go and see how Geordi's getting on." said Riker. '*Bastard*' thought Picard. Normally a Starbase would detect a cloaked ship dodging around a freighter to get into the space dock. Of course, if all the windows in the dock have been electronically closed, and internal sensors disabled by terrorists, the ship might not be noticed. "Hi Geordi!" beamed Riker. "Any progress?" "Nothing yet, Sir. I'm attempting to decode the pattern left in the transporter when we beamed the torpedo aboard the Starbase. If we can construct a layout of the torpedo we may be able to use the transporter to disrupt a vital component... or something." "Oh... Yes... I thought you'd be working on something like that. But er, how exactly would you do that?" "The transporter can be programmed to shuffle particles around, or beam a specific component out. If the effect was confined to the torpedo casing, Shorek wouldn't notice." "Keep at it, Geordi." smiled Riker, and left. Geordi watched him go. 'There is a God after all' he thought, turning back to the computer. In the cavernous interior of the Starbase, a passenger gangway stretched out towards nothing. Unusually, it connected with the nothing with a loud 'clunk'. Even more unusually, three humanoids pushed a heavily laden grav-trolley along the gangway, and disappeared into the nothing. Shorek leaned back in the Starbase command chair. He smiled at the troll-like Ferengi. This troll in particular was Nok Barosh, owner of the fastest ship in the Galaxy. "I want you to do a little job for me, troll." sneered Shorek. "Take your ship, and fly it away from here at top speed for ten hours, understand?" Nok quivered nervously. Some people would think that what Nok did next was totally stupid, but Nok hadn't got where he was today by doing things for charity. Of course, where Nok was today was in the command room of a Starbase with an assortment of phasers and disruptors pointed at him, but the theory was there. "I can do that for you. There is of course... the small matter of... payment?" he said, rubbing his thumb and fore-finger together. Shorek didn't lose control, but he shouted so loud Nok nearly wet himself. "PAYMENT?" He leapt up, thumping his hands on the table. "Of course I'll pay you." he said calmly. "In return for you flying halfway across the galaxy I won't kill your wife and son." "That will do... nicely." muttered Nok, almost smiling. "Sir. I'm detecting a ship powering up inside the Starbase." said Data. "It's the Majestic Swan." "How many lifeforms are aboard the ship?" asked Picard. "I can make out two humans and a Ferengi in the bridge. I can detect six, possibly seven in the living quarters, I can't determine their species as they are too close to the ship's warp core." "Is the torpedo aboard?" "I can't tell, Sir. The Swan is powering up her impulse engines." Picard stood up. "Ready tractor beam." Shorek stood at the open end of the walkway, watching the Swan move towards the Space doors. The beautiful Baugor Toul walked past him. "Nivvo's coming in just a second, he says he can't find his disruptor." He nodded, and watch her disappear. Nivvo entered the walkway. "Close the airlock, Niv" yelled Shorek. Nivvo pushed a few buttons on the door panel, and the door locked shut with a clunk. A second clunk followed, he thought it was an echo, but in fact it was Shorek shutting the other end of the walkway. Nivvo frantically pushed buttons on the door, and then frantically grabbed at it as the rush of air swept him down the tunnel. The Majestic Swan majestically swung out of the Starbase. A bright blue beam of light stretched out from the Enterprise and stabbed at it just after it leapt into warp in a blaze of colour. "DAMN!" yelled Picard. "Get me Starfleet." Shorek strode away from the door, clunking up the gloomy Klingon corridors. A dull thud on the edge of hearing signalled another problem gone. "We've already begun tracking the Swan, Picard. Shorek will have to stop sooner or later. Keep me informed, Quinn out." "Text-only message from Admiral Traqu on the Starbase, Sir. All the terrorists have left, but he needs technical help with resetting the Starbase's systems. Apparently all his experts are locked up." said Worf. "Tell him I'll be beaming over shortly with engineers. Picard to engineering." "LaForge here, Sir." "Geordi, bring enough technicians to reset the Starbase doors and meet me in transporter room 3. Data, you're with me." A shimmering of light, and six figures appeared in the starbase ops room. "Geordi, get to work." One of the figures nodded and headed for the mass of computer consoles. "In here, Picard!" The familiar voice of Admiral Traqu came floating through a door. "The door's jammed." Data moved towards the door, in a second it was open. "Hello Captain, glad you could make it." "Admiral." Picard nodded. "I'm sorry we couldn't catch Shorek for you, there was no point in giving chase, the Swan could easily outrun us." "To be honest, I'm just glad it's all over." the Admiral replied. "When your computers are back on-line we'd like to look for clues of Shorek's destination." "Yes, fine." Geordi approached. "How long, Geordi?" "Five minutes Sir, if we reset the main computer core. Admiral, the process requires your permission and security code." "Will much information be lost?" the Admiral asked. "Very little Sir, only programs that were running when the terrorists took over. The alternative is at least a day before we open any doors." "Very well. Let's get on with it." ======================================================== Is this the last we'll see of Shorek? Will Picard recover the torpedo? Does anyone really care? Find out in the next part of MINOR MISDIRECTIONS -- Magnus Huckvale posted by: Tim Huckvale, Praxis, 20 Manvers Street, Bath, BA1 1PX, UK Tel: +44 (0)225 444 700 Fax: +44 (0)225 465 205 Email: tjh@praxis.co.uk Any opinions expressed are mine -- Tim H Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!agate!doc.ic.ac.uk!uknet!root44!praxis!tjh From: tjh@praxis.co.uk (Tim Huckvale) Subject: NEW STORY: Minor Misdirections (part 02/02) Message-ID: <1993Sep23.174817.6995@praxis.co.uk> Organization: Praxis, Bath, U.K. Date: Thu, 23 Sep 1993 17:48:17 GMT Lines: 653 Here are the final three parts of Minor Misdirections. ======================================================== STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION - MINOR MISDIRECTIONS ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part '3' - Light Dawns ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cheers filtered up through the Starbase as the lights came on and the doors opened. "Right, let's get to work." said Picard. "Use the computer in my office, Captain. Is there anything my people can do?" "Yes Admiral, that would be helpful. Can you get your people looking for anything left behind by Shorek, one of the terrorists may have dropped something which could lead us to the identity of one of his.. associates." "I'll get right on to it, Captain." "Thankyou Admiral. Perhaps Commander Data could assist you, he has a talent for mysteries." "Yes, it will be interesting working with him." Picard turned to the computer. "Computer, access private subspace communication logs." appeared on the computer screen. After a second a long list appeared. "List any calls made by or to Ivadd Shorek." Picard said, trying to ignore Admiral Traqu explaining the situation over the PA system. "Three subspace transmissions holding the name Ivadd Shorek found." Federation computers always put Picard on edge. They strangely reminded him of Lwaxana Troi. "Show me the first one." "Level three security access required." Picard stated his name, rank, and serial number and the computer began speaking. "Call is six days old, transcribed to text only." Originator: Reygor Toul Recipient: Ivadd Shorek Repeater Path: Trinoarso_4/Starbase_71/SSRelay_Alpha14/Starbase_19 REYGOR. MY OLD FRIEND. IVADD. HOW ARE THINGS GOING? FINE. EVERYTHING IS GOING WELL. HOW IS EVERYONE YOUR END? BAUGOR IS FINE. MY SMALLER FRIENDS ARE FINE ALSO. GOOD. GOOD. SEE YOU AT OUR REUNION. BYE IVADD. "Next message." "Call is two days old. Visual records deleted for memory conservation." Picard raised his eyebrows at the message details. He knew Nok Barosh to be the owner of the Majestic Swan. Originator: Ivadd Shorek Recipient: Nok Barosh Repeater Path: Starbase_19/SSRelay_Alpha02/Ferengal_1 "Mr Barosh? My name is Ivadd Shorek, a friend of mine recently acquired an artefact which I believe you may be interested in." Picard kept listening, and moved over to the replicator. "What is it?" "Tea, Earl Grey, Hot." "Let me show you." Picard cursed as he couldn't see what Shorek was showing to Barosh. "Is it genuine?" "Of course." "Then I am definitely interested." "Can you get here the day after tomorrow?" "Certainly." "Good, I will meet you when your ship docks." "I look forward to it." Picard sipped his Tea, perhaps Shorek had tricked Barosh into bringing his ship to the Starbase to make certain he would be there. "Next message." "Call is four hours old. Visual and Audio intact at resolution 4." Picards eye's widened in surprise as the console screen split in two. Ivadd appeared in one screen, and in the other, a Cardassian. Originator: Bal Dormat Recipient: Ivadd Shorek Path: DS9_2/SSRelay_Alpha41/SSRelay_Alpha09/SSRelay_Alpha15/Starbase_19 "I told you not to call me here!" yelled Shorek. "Relax, it's not as if these calls are recorded or monitored, we're perfectly safe." Picard smirked to himself. Anyone with a criminal record routinely had their calls recorded at low resolution. After a day the message was reduced to audio, and then transcribed to text only by the computer after five days. Obviously the Cardassian didn't know. "Is everything going to plan?" "Of course." Shorek smiled, relaxing a little. "We'll be there. Will you have the money?" "Yes. Two million credits is worth it. Bajor will be obselete again." "I don't care what you do with the item, just as long as I get my money." "You'll get it." The cup and saucer crashed to the floor, spilling tea on the carpet. Picard stared at the screen. "Admiral Traqu to Captain Picard." Picard's comm badge awoke him from his trance. "Picard here." "The Anti-Borg torpedo is gone, Picard. Two guards are dead. I'll inform Starfleet." "I think I know where he's going, Admiral, I'm beaming back to the Enterprise." "Good luck, Picard." "Thankyou Admiral. Picard out." "Picard to Commander Data." "Data here Sir, we've found many things of int..." "Good. Could the Anti-Borg torpedo destroy a wormhole?" "If the torpedo was..." "Yes or no?" "Yes, Sir." "We have to leave. Tell Geordi to beam back to the Enterprise immediately." "Yes Sir." "Picard to Enterprise. Beam me straight to the bridge." The Admiral's office shimmered and was replaced by the plush bridge of the Enterprise. "Ensign, set course for Deep Space Nine, warp 9.6" "Aye Sir." "Have Data and the others beamed back yet?" "They are beaming over right now Sir." said Worf. "Say when they've finished." "They're all across now, Sir." "Ensign, engage." "Aye Sir." The Enterprise leapt into warp. "Which heading did the Majestic Swan take?" asked Picard. "104 mark 085 Sir." replied the ensign at the helm. "Will that take it to Deep Space Nine?" "Deep Space Nine... No Sir, nowhere near." Data entered the bridge. "You think Shorek's heading for Deep Space Nine?" asked Riker. "I did, Will, but how's he getting there if the Swan is going in the opposite direction." "I believe I can answer that, Sir." said Data. "Ten people are still unaccounted for, including Nok Barosh, the owner of the Majestic Swan. We think they were on the Swan when it left. Intrigingly, boarding gangway 4 was covered in blood, we assume it was one of the terrorists. The interesting thing is that no ships were registered docked at gangway 4, the Swan was docked at gangway 6 and the freighters at 2 and 11. I checked the docking clamp log, and it seems it automatically altered itself to lock onto a Klingon Bird of Prey ship." "Data, assuming the Bird of Prey left at the same time as the Swan and is travelling at it's top speed, when will we catch up with it?" "One hour, fourteen minutes, twelv..." "Thankyou Mr Data. Ensign, get me Deep Space Nine. Oh, Worf, I have a little job for you." "Sickbay's all ready, Captain." announced Beverly Crusher. "Thankyou, Doctor. Won't you join me for a drink?" Beverly sat herself down in one of the comfortable Ten-Forward chairs. "What can I get you?" Picard asked her. "Pineapple juice will do fine." Picard made his way to the replicator. "Pizza, Chicken Tikka, Deep-pan." said Ensign Sungam, and snapped stiffly to attention as the Captain approached. "At ease Ensign. That looks good." Picard said, eyeing the steaming pizza. "Yes Sir, I programmed it myself." "Fruit Juice, Pineapple." ordered Picard, nodding at the retreating Ensign. "Tea, Earl Grey, Hot." "I saw Worf on the way to the weapons locker, I think he's looking forward to his.. assignment." said Beverly as Picard sat down. "Yes, I must warn him off becoming too trigger-happy." "Hmm. I've never known Worf to lose control." "Maybe. I was going mad waiting on the bridge, you know. Still, in an hour or so it will all be over." "We are detecting a Bird of Prey, Captain. It is the Car'Shek, no Klingon lifeforms aboard." said Data. "Arm Phasers and Photon torpedoes." ordered Picard. "The Car'Shek is taking evasive action but maintaining its heading." "Yellow Alert. Phasers on level one only. Fire!" A shaft of yellow light screamed out of the Enterprise's Phaser ring, and hit something. "The Car'Shek is dropping out of warp and de-cloaking." On the main viewer, a shimmering of stars took on the bird-like shape of a Klingon ship. "Slow to Impulse. Open hailing frequencies." "Hailing frequencies open, Sir." said the Lieutenant at Tactical. "Shorek, this is Captain Picard of the Enterprise. Surrender immediately." "Go and jump Picard! I've got an appointment to make." The Car'Shek turned towards the Enterprise, it's torpedo tubes glowing bright red. ======================================================== STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION - MINOR MISDIRECTIONS ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part '4' - The Final Surprise ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "They're firing torpedoes!" yelled the Ensign at Tactical. "Shields up, Red Alert." The ship rocked as two torpedos slammed into the partly formed shields. "Damage Report!" "No damage Sir, shields are re-forming." "Fire at will, ensign." ordered Picard. Riker instinctively cringed. A photon torpedo screamed out of the Enterprise and knocked the Car'Shek spinning, it righted itself and passed over the saucer section, directly over the Enterprise's rear phaser turret. "Shields neutralised Captain!" "Reduce firing, keep them on the run without causing serious damage. Can you lock on to the torpedo?" "No Sir, I think it may be in a shielded cargo bay." "Transporter room 3, we think the torpedo is in a cargo bay. When we drop shields, energise." The Enterprise swung round behind the Car'Shek, and dropped its shields for a second. Six figures in red Federation get-up materialised in a dark and dingy corridor. Worf looked about, feeling right at home, and pumping with adrenalin. "This way." he announced, opening the door and walking straight into Dayron, a young terrorist who had just come from the toilet. Dayron looked up into Worf's face. "Shit" he squeaked. Shorek's voice came over the PA. "Plan B, everyone. Just remember the money." In cargo room 2 of the Car'Shek, four terrorists were busy tying a force field to a grav-trolley, "Useful stuff, string." mentioned one as the ship bucked again, sending the trolley floating down to the other end of the hold. Phaser scored the hull of the Car'Shek as it turned back towards the Enterprise, firing once more. "Captain, Shorek is transmitting a repeating subspace message, it reads simply, 'Plan B'." "Interesting. Picard to engineering. Lieutenant LaForge, report." "I don't know that there's anything I can do Sir, from what I can reconstitute from the transporter pattern, the torpedo is more complex than any Starfleet circuitry I've seen before. At first glance it looks like a random mass of wiring, I'll have a more definite answer for you in ten or twenty minutes." "I need details as soon as possible Geordi." "I've got my best people working on it, Sir." The grav-trolley skidded round a corner into a wall, bruising one of the terrorists hanging on to the side. Worf's posse entered the now empty cargo room. "Aaaargh!" yelled Worf. "We'll try the other one." The Klingon led the way down the corridor. The cargo bay door slid open, startling the two terrorists searching for valuables, they drew their weapons and ducked behind a cargo pod, firing disrupter beams. Ensign Landers was knocked down, another security guard tapped Landers' communicator pin three times and he was beamed directly to sick bay. Worf immediately fired back, cracking the pod and covering the floor with two tonnes of C60 dry lubricate. Another Starfleet redshirt fired at one end of the broken cargo pod, sending it spinning to reveal the terrorists. The terrorists stood and put their hands up, dropping their weapons. The ship was hit again and they slipped over on the Buckeballs, skittered right across the cargo bay, and landed at Worf's feet. Worf laughed and knocked them out. "Three down." he muttered. "Now for the bridge." "Keep them running, Ensign. The old Bird of Prey class can't touch us." said Riker enthusiastically. He didn't really know what was going on. "Ship approaching, warp 9, Sir." "Identify. On screen inset." While the main viewer stayed centred on the Car'Shek, one corner began showing a large ship at high warp. "Magnifying. Ship is a Cardassian battle cruiser. ETA Two minutes." Worf readied himself for the attack on the bridge. "It takes five bridge crew to control a Bird of Prey, but it's likely that there are more than that on the bridge, fire at will." Worf burst through the door, aiming his phaser at an empty seat. He looked about, the bridge was empty. He moved to a computer console, tapping in a sequence. The other guards took up positions by the doors. On the viewscreen the Enterprise loomed above the Klingon, occaisionally letting rip with phasers. Shorek had had the foresight to move bridge operations to engineering, but he'd reckoned without a Federation officer with knowledge of Klingon ships. "Worf to Captain Picard, we haven't located the torpedo but we're on the bridge. Shorek has moved control to engineering, but I can take over at your command." "Excellent, Lieutenant. Stand by." Picard turned to the comms station. "Hailing frequencies." "Aye, Sir." "Shorek, surrender your vessel or we will take over control." Shorek looked surprised. "No way, Captain. Things are just getting exciting." Picard tapped his communicator. "Now, Mr Worf." Shorek looked at his computer and killed the transmission. "Damn him! No matter, Dormat will be here soon, we will carry on with the plan." he said to his partners and left for the transporter room. "The Cardassian ship is leaving warp." "Hailing frequencies." said Picard. "Open, Sir." "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise, Cardassian vessel, state your purpose." "They're firing!" shouted the Ensign at Tactical. The Cardassian ship fired on the Enterprise, damaging the shields and rocking the ship. "Lock phasers and fire." "Good work. You're needed on the bridge." said Shorek, entering the transporter room. The four terrorists inside left. Shorek pulled a Cardassian communicator from a pocket and spoke into it. "When you're ready." He set the grav-trolley down on the transporter pad and switched off the force-field, sitting down himself on the torpedo. "Captain, I have a lock on the torpedo." "Prepare to lower shields and transport on my mark." said Picard. "The Cardassian ship is hailing us, Sir." "On screen." A Cardassian commander appeared on the screen. "Captain Picard, I presume. I apologise for firing on your ship, a case of mistaken identity." "Mistaken identity? Perhaps you'd better explain what you mean." The Cardassian smiled. "Of course, I'll beam over in just a second." he said and disappeared. "The Cardassians have lowered their shields." "Now, ensign!" "I can't Sir, I've lost the lock. The torpedo's being transported to the Cardassian ship." said the Ensign. "Beam Mr Worf and the Away team back." ordered Picard. On the screen the Cardassian ship turned and sped away, the Car'Shek started in the opposite direction. "Fire photons on the Car'Sheks warp drives. Disable them." The photon torpedoes scored a direct hit, knocking off one nacelle and shattering the other sending the Car'Shek rolling off. "Follow the Cardassian ship. How long to Deep Space Nine?" "The Cardassian ship will reach Deep Space Nine in seven minutes," answered Data. "We will arrive twelve seconds later." "Hailing frequencies." "Open, Sir." "Cardassian ship. Leave warp immediately or we will open fire." "No response, Sir." "Fire three torpedoes in rapid succession." Three bright red balls of light slowly caught up with the Cardassian ship, warp nine was close to the torpedoes top speed. "Their shield's down to sixty percent, Sir." "When can we fire again?" asked Picard. "Forty seconds." Shorek watched the Klingon transporter room dissolve and be replaced by one in the Cardassian ship. He smiled at the transporter operator. "Greetings." he said cheerfully. "Would you take me up to your Captain please?" The wrinkled transporter operator simply nodded. Bal Dormat leaned back in his command chair and spoke in Cardassian. ~Helm, take us back to the wormhole.~ The Cardassian ship turned and sped away. The Car'Shek started in the opposite direction but the Enterprise knocked out its warp drives sending it spinning out of control. ~How long to the wormhole?~ ~Seven minutes, Lord. The Federation ship is twelve seconds behind us.~ Bal smiled. His comms officer looked up. ~The Federation ship is hailing us, Lord.~ ~Let me hear it, but do not return hail.~ "Cardassian ship. Leave warp immediately or we will open fire." came Picard's crystal clear voice. ~No reply.~ ~They're firing torpedoes.~ said the Cardassian tactical officer. ~Boost aft shields.~ Bal watched the balls of red light approach and braced himself against the explosions. ~Aft shield down to sixty percent. Recharging.~ ~Transporter room two says that we have a visitor, Ivadd Shorek.~ Shorek still couldn't work out why he felt that what he did to Nivvo was ironic. He'll find out in a few seconds. ~Let me speak to him.~ Bal said, switching on the translator. "Ivadd! How are you?" Bal asked. Ivadd replied nervously. "Fine, fine. I've delivered the torpedo, now do you have the money?" "Come now, Ivadd. You don't think I carry that sort of money round with me. now do you?" "You said you'd have it..." "I lied." he said, and switched to Cardassian. ~Kill him.~ The Cardassian ship approached Deep Space Nine. Bal was surprised that he was not being hailed. ~Monitoring a call from the Enterprise to the Station, Lord.~ ~Yes, no doubt Picard is warning his friends that we are on the way.~ Bal said, almost to himself. ~Ready the Warp Distortion Torpedo. Lock onto the wormhole entrance.~ ~Torpedo ready Lord. The Enterprise is leaving warp. Shall I fire the Torpedo?~ ~Not yet.~ Bal thought for a second. ~Hail the Enterprise.~ The Enterprise bridge appeared on the screen. "Picard!" he said, and faltered. "Uh... Hi." Picard nodded. "Hello Dormat, how can I help you?" "I'm going to fire the torpedo." Dormat threatened. "I don't doubt it." replied Picard. Perhaps it was a trick. ~Cut the transmission.~ he looked round to his tactical officer. ~Fire.~ he said simply. 'Any second,' he thought, 'the wormhole will be destroyed. As suddenly as Bajor was put on the map, it will be wiped off it.' The electromagnetic accelerator activated, sending the torpedo speeding out of the launch tube. Bal had never seen a wormhole collapse before, and he wasn't going to today. The torpedo slid out of the tube and totally failed to ignite. It also totally failed to rush towards the wormhole and collapse it. Instead it rather disappointingly tumbled over and over, in the vague direction of one of the Bajoran moons. Bal stared at it in disbelief and dematerialised. This rather extraordinary turn of events can best be explained by returning to the scene aboard the Enterprise six minutes earlier... "LaForge to Bridge." "Go ahead Geordi." "Captain, I think I just realised why the torpedo looks like a random mass of wiring. It *is* just a random mass of wiring!" "Explain." "The torpedo's a fake, Captain. It won't work." "Are you sure?" "I'd stake my reputation on it, Captain." "Thanks Geordi. Ensign, get me Starfleet command and have Deep Space Nine standing by." A few seconds later Admiral Quinn appeared on screen. "Captain Picard, have you recovered the torpedo?" "No Admiral, quite the opposite." said Picard. "Well, what did you want?" "Are you sure the torpedo's genuine?" "What on Earth do you mean by that?" "Admiral, before I risk any more of my crew on a decoy," Picard's voice rose to a shout. "Don't you think there's something you ought to be telling me?" Quinn sighed. "Yes, the torpedo's a decoy. How did you find out?" "Various clues, Admiral. I can't explain now, we've got a Cardassian to catch." "Good luck, Picard. Quinn out." Quinn was replaced with Commander Sisko. "Captain Picard, we're tracking a Cardassian ship, is the torpedo aboard it?" "Yes, but the torpedo's a fake, Commander. It won't work." "Are you sure?" asked Sisko. "Admiral Quinn told me himself." Sisko sighed with relief. "Thankyou Captain. Can I offer your crew shore leave when you arrive?" "I'll see if we have time, Commander. Picard out." Deep Space Nine grew from a pin-prick on the screen as the Enterprise left warp. The Cardassian ship was hovering above it. "The Cardassian ship is hailing us, Sir." "On screen." The Cardassian bridge appeared on the screen. "Picard!" said Bal Dormat. He faltered. "Uh... Hi." Picard nodded a greeting. "Hello Dormat, how can I help you?" "I'm going to fire the torpedo." Dormat threatened. "I don't doubt it." replied Picard. ~Cut the transmission.~ said Dormat, and promptly disappeared from the Enterprise screen. In his place, the view of the Cardassian ship also quite clearly showed a sleek, black, photon torpedo tumbling end over end. Picard and Crusher exchanged glances, stifling a laugh. Troi, at helm, sensed a rush of emotion from the station next to her. She looked across, it was Data! A smile formed on his lips. The smile turned to a grin as he threw his head back and laughed. Picard began to chuckle, Beverly looked at him and giggled. Riker started to snigger. The ensign at the relief station decided it was probably alright to join in and did so. All eyes were on Data. He thumped the console, which beeped. He looked at it for a second, and laughed some more. From tactical, Worf surveyed the scene with a grunt of either dissatisfaction or amusement. Picard stood up and leant on the console behind him. "Haha, Lieutenant? Beam whoever's in the command chair of that vessel to the brig. " He looked back to Data and resumed chuckling. ======================================================== STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION - MINOR MISDIRECTIONS ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part '5' - Epilogue ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Captain's log Stardate 44198.1 We are docked at Deep Space Nine for eight hours shore leave while waiting for a Cardassian security patrol to pick up Bal Dormat and his ship. Their story is that Dormat was acting alone without the official backing of his government." "The USS Hood picked up the Car'Shek less than an hour after we were forced to leave it, and is now towing it to Starbase 51 for repairs." "It is hardly flattering as Captain of the Enterprise to be given a decoy to deliver without being informed. If Lieutenant LaForge had not stumbled upon the fact perhaps some of my crew would not be alive now. It saddens me to think of the two security guards, killed at Starbase 19 over a mere torpedo casing." "Starfleet negotiators are still trying to convince Nok Barosh that his wife and son are safe, but so far they have been without success, as negotiating ships are unable to stay in contact for more than a few minutes." "I received word from Admiral Quinn, apparently the genuine torpedo has arrived safely at it's destination, wherever that is. He is confident that it will be ready for the Federation's next encounter with the Borg." Picard looked up as his door beeped. "Come." Beverly sauntered in. "Captain. I just finished treating Ensign Landers. He'll be back on duty in a couple of days." "Good. We were lucky no-one else was seriously hurt." "Hmm. Jean-Luc, I thought I told you to take shore leave." "That won't be possible, Doctor. I have far too much to do here." "Like what?" "Well..." "Come on, you can buy me a pineapple juice at Quark's." "How could I refuse an offer like that?" Troi met Riker in the boarding tube. "Hi Will, I thought we'd go down to the market first, I hear they've got some interesting rugs." she said. "Sounds fascinating." replied Riker. Deanna looked at him. "Have you done that IQ test I gave you yet?" she asked inquisitively. "No, I er... haven't had a chance." Deanna was sure he was hiding something. ======================================================== Minor Misdirections was written using !Edit on an Acorn A3000 ======================================================== I hope you enjoyed reading it. -- Magnus Huckvale The best thing about A.S.Creative is the opticals budget. posted by: Tim Huckvale, Praxis, 20 Manvers Street, Bath, BA1 1PX, UK Tel: +44 (0)225 444 700 Fax: +44 (0)225 465 205 Email: tjh@praxis.co.uk Any opinions expressed are mine -- Tim H