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Old July 4 2012, 04:52 PM   #24
Rear Admiral
Re: UT: Refugee Crisis/Dark Territory-"Stealing Fire"

Happy Fourth everyone! As always thanks for commenting and reading.

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Shuttlecraft Greenaugh

“I know,” Lt. Shashlik said, cutting off the science officer, “It looks vaguely Tholian in design,” she finished. The alien ship looked like a large, dimmed pyramid lying on its side. Ensign Fryer tensed at the mention of the reclusive, territorial species.

“I just said it looked somewhat like a Tholian vessel, not that it was one,” she chided him gently, “Cool your thrusters.”

“Yes sir,” he replied, though he now looked at the ship through slitted eyes. The Kaylar took in the darkened, pitted hull dominating the front viewer. The vessel was large, much larger than any Tholian ship or freighter she had seen before, but it had a similar, conical shape.

“I am not reading any Tholian life signs,” Ramlo was still on audio. “And the power readings are totally incompatible with Tholian propulsion.”

“So what’s powering that thing, or did power it?” Shashlik asked, clenching her hands in anticipation of beaming aboard the alien craft.

“I’m reading residual polaric ion isotope signatures,” Ramlo said, pausing. Both Shashlik and Fryer shared a confused look.

“Why is that important?” Rarely did Shashlik like to not have the appearance of knowing what was going on around her, but this find was too important for vanity.

“I think we need to get aboard that vessel,” Ramlo said instead, quickening her interest. “I’ll meet you on the bridge.”

“Oyekan just beamed down one,” Fryer said just seconds later.

“I’m usually the one chomping at the bit,” Shashlik grinned as she eased out of her seat, fighting against the bulky white EV suit. Despite a more streamlined design, the suit still hampered her movement. She trudged over to the transporter alcove, snatching up her helmet along with a utility belt with a tricorder and a phaser clipped to it that she had left by the transporter pad in anticipation of an away. Jumping on the pad, she turned to Fryer. “Keep this channel open and be ready for an emergency beam out,” she ordered. She slid on the helmet and sealed it before nodding at him, “Beam me down.”
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USS Erickson
Main Bridge

“I wonder if I should shut off power to the turbolift?” Captain Redfeather wondered aloud, prompting several chuckles from the bridge. “Would that be me being bad captain again?”

“Bad captain,” Lt. French intoned. “Very bad.”

“I know,” Redfeather smiled, turning half-way in her seat to the row of consoles behind her. A spry Tellarite was operating Helen’s station. “Lieutenant, please shut off the power to the turbolift.”

The Tellarite paused, one shaggy, brown eyebrow raising in a Vulcan-like manner. She looked back up at the captain, a curious expression on her porcine face. “Captain the turbolift has already stopped.”

Redfeather pursed her lips, nodding with satisfaction. “Somebody on that lift gets it.”

“Well let’s just hope they both come back in one piece,” French muttered.

“Amen to that Tim,” Redfeather added.
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Alien Vessel

“This can’t be a coincidence,” Ramlo said, flashing the wrist lamp around the room. The walls were filled with polished, orange gemstone etchings of gigantic, six-legged figures, crystalline in shape. “Those are Tholians,” he remarked, his voice sounding tinny coming from his helmet’s speakers. “And the data that I have downloaded from their computer banks has similarities to Tholian script.”

Except for the elaborate etchings the bridge was largely unadorned. Ramlo was surprised that such a large and advanced vessel as this ship appeared to be only had one steering console, standing at the very prow of the bridge.

“Both of my optical units are functioning Ram,” Shashlik said, bending down, “but it makes no sense,” she said, running her tricorder over the one burned husk on the deck. “These bio-readings do not contain the mineralogical makeup of Tholian physiology,” she said, chancing to touch the blackened corpse. She noticed the plumed hat, its tip reminding her of flames. “They are, were, carbon based life forms.”

“I had already deduced that they weren’t Tholians, chiefly due to the environmental factors on the ship. There are scant traces of the methane-chlorine mix that the Tholians breathe. It was a standard oxygen mix until the air was vented from the vessel due to hull perforations.”

Shashlik stood back up again. “Which brings me to my next point,” she said, her rage starting to simmer. “Who attacked these people and why?”

“A good question and I don’t have the slightest clue,” Ramlo admitted.

“Could it be the Calderans?” The Kaylar ventured. Though not as famously territorial or xenophobic as the Tholians or Sheliak, the species native to this stretch of space weren’t known for being neighborly.

“It is a possibility,” Ramlo conceded, tapping his long chin with the edge of his tricorder. “However, they are a deuterium based, biomimetic life form that generally doesn’t leave the gas giant they inhabit at the edge of the eponymous expanse.”

“So you don’t think it was them?” Shashlik asked.

“It is doubtful, but not completely beyond the realm of actuality.” The Arkenite admitted. “Perhaps a deeper exploration of the ship might yield us those answers.”

“Agreed,” Shashlik said, giving the bridge a once over again before following the scientist out in the pitch black corridor.
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