Into The Great Wide Open

Posted on Thu Feb 27th, 2014 @ 12:02pm by James Holbridge & Marine Captain Quentin Harrison

HOLBRIDGE MINING CONSORTIUM HQ
STARBASE 900

A change in perspective was just what the doctor ordered! Jim sighed to himself as he relaxed in his oversized chair in the HMC offices. A scant six hours ago he had been a hesitant, frustrated member of the Intelligence Corps. With the change of clothes, a cigar in his teeth, and a don’t-give-a-shit grin, Jim Holbridge was back in the saddle. A subspace communique from the home office had confirmed Jim’s installation as Executive Vice President of Delta Quadrant Operations for the Consortium. The news meant two things for Jim; first, he was the big kahuna in the Delta Quadrant and anything that went wrong would be dumped on his lap. Second, Jim was higher on the food chain than his lovely wife, something he knew didn’t matter to either of them because she had proven her savvy in the mining business time and again. He grudgingly had admitted to himself that she was smarter than him…in some areas.

A personal message from Jim’s father also guaranteed his son ample financing for his venture into the world of private security. Holbridge was reviewing the list of gear that Dave, Quentin, and Aric had prepared for him. Jim knew that most of the stuff on this list was standard stuff, including the newer versions of the phaser rifle, a Marine version of the hand phaser, dubbed the “3p”, two-dozen Gryphon-class interceptors ( Jim already had over seventy applications to go through his version of flight training), six Arrow-class runabouts (two escort variants, one VIP variant, and three assault gunabouts) and a host of other equipment.

Despite the admiral’s assurances, Commander Kieran crept into his thoughts. The man would not be happy to hear that Jim had resigned from the Fleet. Holbridge hoped to the highest stars that Admiral rick had enough juice to keep his ass out of any more trouble. That Kieran bastard was scary as hell.

Holbridge sighed and rubbed his forehead. He had more pressing issues to resolve. All the gear presently in the Alpha Quadrant would have to be brought to the station either by him and his crew or he’d have to trust some asshole to bring it to him unscratched….fat chance of that! He pushed his ICS control. “Quentin, come to my office!”

A short time later, Quentin Harrison breezed into the office. In formal terms, Quentin would be considered the second officer of the newly formed private security company, second only to Dave Lorenz and Jim, authority-wise. The big Scot was a poster-boy for recruiting to the PSC, big, brawny, and unafraid of anything except spiders, which explained his adversarial relationship with Ignatius Reilly. “Ye rang fer me?” he asked in his traditional Scot’s burr.

“Indeed I did, Ugly,” Jim grinned at the big man. “What have you been doing?”

“There was this Orion waitress from the Nexus Club and we were in the process of expanding human-Orion relations when ye called.” Quentin answered, a grin of his own plastered to his face. It was a source of wonder to Jim that a huge, tattooed man like Quentin got more ass than a toilet seat. Before his marriage, Jim himself had the reputation of a hound, but compared to his friend he was a celibate monk.

“As of today, I am no longer in the Fleet. Admiral Rick let me go….”

“I saw that, Jimmy-Boy. There is a problem that remains; what about Kieran?” Quentin’s eyes were dark as he gazed at his friend

“I am pretty sure if Kieran comes looking for trouble he will find it here. He’s only a commander and Admiral Wegener has him trumped in that department. The admiral said we could stay on base as long as we pay our rent and keep the place clean….”

“Can we shoot spiders?” Quentin asked, aiming his finger at a wall, imagining Iggy in the crosshairs.

“I think Oz might get a little pissed if you did,” Jim answered. “I called you hear to let you know that our little security venture is a go. I want you and Dave to take the Ghost to the Alpha Quadrant and pick up our arms and other equipment. The bulk of the gear is at HMC headquarters, the fighters and runabouts are at the Gateway Shipyard. I want you and Dave and your Archadian liaison to bring the stuff back. Rockenfield will go also with so he can fly the fighters back. I want you back here in a week so we can get the training program underway.”

“What training program?”

“You, me, Lorenz, and Aric have combat experience, you have security training, and Dave is the spec ops whiz. We need to brush up on our close-quarters skills and operational protocols. The people who want to work for us will need to be trained up, so we need to get some standards and practices established.” Jim said. “Dave and I will work on that while we go to the Alpha Quadrant.”

“I knew ye couldnae resist a trip back. What will the missus say?”

“She’s up to her eyes in that fuel additive situation planet-side. Besides, I am the boss!” Jim grinned.

Quentin tried to be serious. “Jimmy, about me and Tricia…”

“Forget it.” Jim said brusquely. “It’s past us, and if if you bring it up again I’ll kill you.”

“Understood.”

SS GHOST
EN ROUTE TO THE ALPHA QUADRANT
THREE HOURS LATER

Jim sat in the command seat of the Ghost, studying the tactical overlay on the viewscreen. The Achilles-class vessel was a prototype ship that had been modified to run with minimal crew, most of the ships’ systems were automated, but the powers-that-be in Starfleet had rejected the idea of an AI-controlled ship hauling around minimal crews. HMC had quietly acquired the ship for Jim’s commando unit that terrorized the Jem’Hadar and Starfleet Intelligence for nearly two years.

“Time to arrival, Eddie?” Jim asked aloud.

Seventy- six hours, thirty four minutes, twenty seconds, sir. the AI, nicknamed “Eddie” replied. There was an acronym for the AI, but Jim had nicknamed it “Eddie” after the machine began to show signs of sentience. Eddie’s neural pathways were remarkably similar to those found in a positronic network, and it was entirely possible that the ship could attain sentience. So, the Ghost Team had a self-aware ship.

Jim pondered the name of his group. “Team” seemed to be a misnomer, and with major expansion likely, it was time to give Ghost Team a new name to go along with their new image. “Eddie, please send the following message to all Team members and corporate officers with gamma-level clearance and above: Ghost Team is now known as Nebula Gold, Inc.”

Nice name, sir, Eddie answered. Message has been sent.

“Thank you, Eddie. Maintain speed and heading. Alert me if anything develops.” Jim stood and stretched, then left the bridge. He felt at home on the Ghost , more so than anywhere else. It was time to get some shut-eye.

ALPHA QUADRANT
SOLARIA GATEWAY STATION
BLACK HOLE SALOON

Kieran sat at a table in a darkened corner of the sleazy watering hole, nursing a stardrifter and contemplating the significance of the news he had just received from his source on Starbase 900. It seems that James Holbridge had resigned his commission with the commanding officer’s blessing. Holbridge had broken his word to Kieran and left Intelligence before his debt had been repaid. Perhaps it had been wrong of him to withhold the location of his sibling’s whereabouts. Kieran knew that if Holbridge learned that his brother was still alive he would undoubtedly begin searching for him again.

It had been so easy to manipulate the man before. Some latinum here and there to his paid operatives had insured the utter dissolution of his target’s whole life, thus enabling mental disorder to take root and run unchecked. When the dust had settled, Starfleet Intelligence had been dealt a severe blow to its infrastructure and had to scramble to relocate some of its collateral assets. Kieran had been tasked with locating and bringing Holbridge to heel, even to attempt recruitment.

Now, this attempt by Holbridge to break the hold Intelligence, and more importantly Kieran himself, had on him was a shock. The empty threat of incarceration had apparently lost its sting. Perhaps it was time to apply some additional pressure to his wayward son, show him the consequences of honoring one’s agreement.

It was time to make plans, careful ones. If Holbridge didn’t want to be in Intelligence any longer, then he needed to know that his debt to Kieran was still in place, and that getting out of any deal prematurely could be disastrous.

_______________
A post by:

James Holbridge
Civilian Menace

&

Commander Kieran
If That’s His Real Name