Star Trek: USS Lincoln
‘Pursuit for Perfection’
By Jack Elmlinger
A Star Trek: The Next Generation fan fiction story based on characters and situations from Star Trek: The Next Generation and ‘Vendetta’, a Star Trek: The Next Generation book by Peter David.
Chapter One
Captain’s Log, Stardate 44439.12;
The USS Lincoln has just completed its survey of the recently discovered Daleron Expanse. Our mission was successful and we’re now on course to Starbase One-Ten for recreation, rest, and a refit. However, first on our schedule is a brief layover with the USS Indiana at Outpost Zeta near the Romulan Neutral Zone.
Captain Patrick Staams deactivated the log recorder and settled back into his command chair. His eyes roamed across the Bridge of an Excelsior-class starship that still bore the brunt of exploration into the unknown.
Three years as Captain of this ship, he mused to himself, and I’m still in awe of this ship. Not that he was upset or burnt out, but being one of the youngest captains in Starfleet was bound to raise a few eyebrows and start the inevitable comparisons of him with…. James T. Kirk…
He chuckled at the prospect. He was thirty-six years old and he had been promoted to his current rank after taking over command of his previous assignment, the USS Juneau. His memories of that time of his life were still fresh to him. A sudden attack by a Cardassian Keldon-class ship had wrecked the ship and Captain Verdal had been killed. Yet, the Cardassian ambush had been thwarted when a young Commander of only thirty-three had taken the reins and used the Picard Maneuver to destroy the enemy vessel. The battle had given his crew fame and honor. For him, command of the Lincoln.
“Captain?”
Staams cut his musing short and turned to face his First Officer, Commander Arthur MacEwan, who was sitting beside him at his station. “What is it, XO?”
“You just seemed to be lost there for a moment. Anything wrong?”
“Just a brief daydream. Is that logical, Arthur?”
MacEwan cocked an eyebrow before a smile cracked across his face. He was one of the few Humans to ever attend the Vulcan Science Academy and graduate. So, he was often more composed, mentally and emotionally than average Humans.
A gruff voice interrupted his response. “Captain, we’re twenty minutes away from our rendezvous with the Indiana.”
“Thank you, Mister M’Roah.” Staams answered, acknowledging his Caitian helm officer. The alien officer resembled a powerful bipedal cat with tan and dark brown fur, though he was gentle around the others. He turned back towards his First Officer. “XO, what’s the story with Outpost Zeta?”
“Outpost Zeta is our of our primary outposts near the Neutral Zone. It’s well-fortified but it hasn’t seen any action since construction was finished on,” – he turned his head to consult the monitor on his right side --,” Stardate 43020.96.”
“So, it’s been a while. To tell you the truth, it’s been pretty quiet around this region.”
“Captain?”
The Captain turned to face Lieutenant Rilla, his Deltan operations and communications officer. “Yes, Lieutenant?”
“There’s a message from the Indiana, sir. They’re going to be delayed for an hour because of a warp core malfunction. Captain Merrick sends his apologies for the delay.”
Staams chuckled. “Poor Craig. He’s always having trouble with that ship of his. Mister M’Roah, take us out of warp and set a course for Outpost Zeta, full impulse power.”
The stars seemed to shiver briefly on the main viewscreen before the Lincoln emerged from warp space. Her graceful design gleamed in the starlight, even though she was over thirty years old. Slowly, she began to decelerate before she proceeded forward in the direction of Outpost Zeta. The Bridge became a hive of activity as orders were relayed back and forth. Captain Staams wasn’t worried because his crew had proven their worth, many times over. It was true that the Lincoln wasn’t the Enterprise or the Endeavour, but then again, those two ships were legends onto themselves.
“Arthur, you once served aboard the Enterprise, correct?”
“Yes, sir. I was assigned there before I came aboard the Lincoln.”
“Why didn’t you stay?”
“Well, it was because – “
“Captain! Vessel approaching!”
Staams rose quickly from his chair, his head turning to look over at the starboard side of the Bridge where the Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant Allarza zh’Therr was positioned. The Andorian’s antennae twitched for a moment, his attention was still on his instruments. “The unidentified vessel just emerged from warp and the computer can’t make an identification yet.”
“On screen.”
The main viewscreen came on. As it switched views, there was the usual splash of stars but moving towards them was a –
“Red Alert!,” Staams snapped. “Shields up! Ready phasers and load torpedo bays. Helm, prepare for evasive maneuvers!”
His vigilance was alarming. Though it was called for since coming straight towards them was a Romulan D’Deridex-class Warbird. He turned to Rilla. “Hail them. If they’re mounting an attack – “
“Lieutenant Rilla, belay that order!”
Staams looked back at his First Officer with a deep frown of displeasure on his face. “XO, have you lost your damned mind? That’s a Romulan Warbird out there!”
MacEwan ignored him and turned towards Allarza. “Mister zh’Therr, what’s the status of the Romulan vessel?”
Allarza scanned her instruments with her eyes suddenly widening. “She’s severely damaged, Commander. There are very few life signs still aboard. Their primary systems are down as is their warp drive. There are only a few auxiliary systems that are still operating.”
MacEwan turned to face Staams. “Captain.”
The Captain nodded, understanding his First Officer’s caution. “Stand down to Yellow Alert. Lieutenant Rilla, hail them.”
The Warbird was closer to them now and the damage inflicted onto the alien starship was clearly more evident. There were entire sections where the hull had been torn away. There were also signs of severe battle damage. One of the warp nacelles was gone, leaving only a tattered field of metal and debris in its wake.
“No response,” came the Deltan woman’s answer.
Staams rubbed his jaw nervously. What the hell is the meaning of all of this?
“Allarza, are there any new sensor readings?”
“Nothing new, sir, except… there are high levels of neutrinos present.”
Staams’ mind raced at this information, trying to conceive of an answer to this mystery. He finally turned to his Second-in-Command. “Arthur, prepare an Away Team. Take whoever you want with you. Rilla, contact Starfleet Command and Outpost Zeta. Inform them of our situation and what my intentions are.”
MacEwan headed for the nearest turbolift, giving orders along the way. “Doctor Nandor and Commander Velazquez, meet me in Transporter Room Two.” He turned around, standing in the way of the open door while he looked towards the center of the Bridge. “M’Roah, I’ll need you and zh’Therr as well.”
****
Captain’s Log, supplemental;
We have encountered a serious crisis while on our way to Outpost Zeta. A severely-damaged Romulan Warbird had suddenly appeared in Federation space. The identity of who attacked the Romulans and why is currently unknown. An Away Team led by Commander MacEwan is now beaming aboard to find answered to these questions.
Ten humanoid shapes materialized out of blue energy pillars in a corridor outside the Bridge of the Romulan ship. Commander MacEwan looked around, taking stock of the battle damage. All that he could manage to say was,” Great Scott!”
Science Officer Allarza zh’Therr began a sweep of the area with her tricorder while Chief Engineer Jillian Velazquez began probing through the damaged sections of the hull with her own tricorder. The other Away Team members began sorting through the wreckage, looking for survivors.
“Life signs are present on the Bridge but they’re faint,” the Andorian woman informed MacEwan.
“All right. Tabby, give me a hand.” Straining at it, he tried to open the door to the Bridge. It wasn’t until Tabbarei M’Roah, or Tabby, as the crew called him, came forward and managed to get the door to the Bridge open with his bare paws. The smell of burnt ozone and skin hit them, causing some of the Away Team members to gag on the stale air. Through the ozone smile, the Lincoln’s First Officer was the first person to step through the passageway and look around.
The Romulan Bridge was in shambles. Small fires burned nearby. Computer screens were smashed and sheets of tritanium metal hung from the ceiling. Despite all of the damage, there were bodies lying everywhere. Some of them were living. And some of them… not living anymore.
MacEwan saw a person near him. Instinctively, he kneeled down and felt the Romulan officer’s neck for a pulse. There wasn’t one. Taking his hand away, he saw that it was smeared with jade-colored blood. Shaken a little by it, he turned to face the members of his Away Team.
“Commander Velazquez, take your team down to their Engineering section. See what you can do down there.”
The Mexican woman snorted a little. “With this hunk of junk? We might as well scuttle this poor thing.” Turning around, she stepped off of the Bridge, followed by her team of engineers.
The rest of the Away Team entered the room and began to investigate. The smell of death was everywhere but suddenly out of nowhere, Doctor Nandor called out with a shout. “Commander!”
MacEwan rushed over to find the Lincoln’s Chief Medical Officer was kneeling down by the command chair. Sitting in the seat was an older Romulan with silver-gray hair. Half of his face was a gruesome mask covered in burns, scrapes, and green blood.
“He’s alive, but barely. The rest of the Bridge crew is dead,” he informed the First Officer. “I’ll have to give him a few drops of Cordrazine Gamma or we’ll lose him.”
“Be careful, Doc.”
Nandor administered the drug and slowly the Romulan’s breathing became relaxed. His eyelids began to flutter. His lips moved as if he was trying to speak. The Commander leaned over him to listen. As he did, a look of shock was spread across his face.
“Commander?”
The First Officer looked up at Nandor. “Doctor, see what you can do for the survivors. I’m going to contact the ship. Wait – Beam him over immediately and do whatever you can for him.” He nodded his head towards the Romulan Commander.
“I’ll try but I can’t promise you that – “
“Just do it!”
Surprised by his attitude, Nandor tapped his combadge. “Nandor to Lincoln. Three to beam over. Send us directly to Sickbay. Then beam another medical team over here.” With a twinkling of blue light from the transporter effect, Nandor, his Chief Nurse, and the Romulan disappeared.
MacEwan tapped his own combadge after watching them beam away. “First Officer to Lincoln.”
“Lincoln here. Arthur, what the hell is going on over there?”
“We found out who’s responsible for the attack on the Romulans, Captain.”
“Who was it?”
Choosing his words carefully, MacEwan said,” The Borg.”
****
‘Pursuit for Perfection’
By Jack Elmlinger
A Star Trek: The Next Generation fan fiction story based on characters and situations from Star Trek: The Next Generation and ‘Vendetta’, a Star Trek: The Next Generation book by Peter David.
Chapter One
Captain’s Log, Stardate 44439.12;
The USS Lincoln has just completed its survey of the recently discovered Daleron Expanse. Our mission was successful and we’re now on course to Starbase One-Ten for recreation, rest, and a refit. However, first on our schedule is a brief layover with the USS Indiana at Outpost Zeta near the Romulan Neutral Zone.
Captain Patrick Staams deactivated the log recorder and settled back into his command chair. His eyes roamed across the Bridge of an Excelsior-class starship that still bore the brunt of exploration into the unknown.
Three years as Captain of this ship, he mused to himself, and I’m still in awe of this ship. Not that he was upset or burnt out, but being one of the youngest captains in Starfleet was bound to raise a few eyebrows and start the inevitable comparisons of him with…. James T. Kirk…
He chuckled at the prospect. He was thirty-six years old and he had been promoted to his current rank after taking over command of his previous assignment, the USS Juneau. His memories of that time of his life were still fresh to him. A sudden attack by a Cardassian Keldon-class ship had wrecked the ship and Captain Verdal had been killed. Yet, the Cardassian ambush had been thwarted when a young Commander of only thirty-three had taken the reins and used the Picard Maneuver to destroy the enemy vessel. The battle had given his crew fame and honor. For him, command of the Lincoln.
“Captain?”
Staams cut his musing short and turned to face his First Officer, Commander Arthur MacEwan, who was sitting beside him at his station. “What is it, XO?”
“You just seemed to be lost there for a moment. Anything wrong?”
“Just a brief daydream. Is that logical, Arthur?”
MacEwan cocked an eyebrow before a smile cracked across his face. He was one of the few Humans to ever attend the Vulcan Science Academy and graduate. So, he was often more composed, mentally and emotionally than average Humans.
A gruff voice interrupted his response. “Captain, we’re twenty minutes away from our rendezvous with the Indiana.”
“Thank you, Mister M’Roah.” Staams answered, acknowledging his Caitian helm officer. The alien officer resembled a powerful bipedal cat with tan and dark brown fur, though he was gentle around the others. He turned back towards his First Officer. “XO, what’s the story with Outpost Zeta?”
“Outpost Zeta is our of our primary outposts near the Neutral Zone. It’s well-fortified but it hasn’t seen any action since construction was finished on,” – he turned his head to consult the monitor on his right side --,” Stardate 43020.96.”
“So, it’s been a while. To tell you the truth, it’s been pretty quiet around this region.”
“Captain?”
The Captain turned to face Lieutenant Rilla, his Deltan operations and communications officer. “Yes, Lieutenant?”
“There’s a message from the Indiana, sir. They’re going to be delayed for an hour because of a warp core malfunction. Captain Merrick sends his apologies for the delay.”
Staams chuckled. “Poor Craig. He’s always having trouble with that ship of his. Mister M’Roah, take us out of warp and set a course for Outpost Zeta, full impulse power.”
The stars seemed to shiver briefly on the main viewscreen before the Lincoln emerged from warp space. Her graceful design gleamed in the starlight, even though she was over thirty years old. Slowly, she began to decelerate before she proceeded forward in the direction of Outpost Zeta. The Bridge became a hive of activity as orders were relayed back and forth. Captain Staams wasn’t worried because his crew had proven their worth, many times over. It was true that the Lincoln wasn’t the Enterprise or the Endeavour, but then again, those two ships were legends onto themselves.
“Arthur, you once served aboard the Enterprise, correct?”
“Yes, sir. I was assigned there before I came aboard the Lincoln.”
“Why didn’t you stay?”
“Well, it was because – “
“Captain! Vessel approaching!”
Staams rose quickly from his chair, his head turning to look over at the starboard side of the Bridge where the Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant Allarza zh’Therr was positioned. The Andorian’s antennae twitched for a moment, his attention was still on his instruments. “The unidentified vessel just emerged from warp and the computer can’t make an identification yet.”
“On screen.”
The main viewscreen came on. As it switched views, there was the usual splash of stars but moving towards them was a –
“Red Alert!,” Staams snapped. “Shields up! Ready phasers and load torpedo bays. Helm, prepare for evasive maneuvers!”
His vigilance was alarming. Though it was called for since coming straight towards them was a Romulan D’Deridex-class Warbird. He turned to Rilla. “Hail them. If they’re mounting an attack – “
“Lieutenant Rilla, belay that order!”
Staams looked back at his First Officer with a deep frown of displeasure on his face. “XO, have you lost your damned mind? That’s a Romulan Warbird out there!”
MacEwan ignored him and turned towards Allarza. “Mister zh’Therr, what’s the status of the Romulan vessel?”
Allarza scanned her instruments with her eyes suddenly widening. “She’s severely damaged, Commander. There are very few life signs still aboard. Their primary systems are down as is their warp drive. There are only a few auxiliary systems that are still operating.”
MacEwan turned to face Staams. “Captain.”
The Captain nodded, understanding his First Officer’s caution. “Stand down to Yellow Alert. Lieutenant Rilla, hail them.”
The Warbird was closer to them now and the damage inflicted onto the alien starship was clearly more evident. There were entire sections where the hull had been torn away. There were also signs of severe battle damage. One of the warp nacelles was gone, leaving only a tattered field of metal and debris in its wake.
“No response,” came the Deltan woman’s answer.
Staams rubbed his jaw nervously. What the hell is the meaning of all of this?
“Allarza, are there any new sensor readings?”
“Nothing new, sir, except… there are high levels of neutrinos present.”
Staams’ mind raced at this information, trying to conceive of an answer to this mystery. He finally turned to his Second-in-Command. “Arthur, prepare an Away Team. Take whoever you want with you. Rilla, contact Starfleet Command and Outpost Zeta. Inform them of our situation and what my intentions are.”
MacEwan headed for the nearest turbolift, giving orders along the way. “Doctor Nandor and Commander Velazquez, meet me in Transporter Room Two.” He turned around, standing in the way of the open door while he looked towards the center of the Bridge. “M’Roah, I’ll need you and zh’Therr as well.”
****
Captain’s Log, supplemental;
We have encountered a serious crisis while on our way to Outpost Zeta. A severely-damaged Romulan Warbird had suddenly appeared in Federation space. The identity of who attacked the Romulans and why is currently unknown. An Away Team led by Commander MacEwan is now beaming aboard to find answered to these questions.
Ten humanoid shapes materialized out of blue energy pillars in a corridor outside the Bridge of the Romulan ship. Commander MacEwan looked around, taking stock of the battle damage. All that he could manage to say was,” Great Scott!”
Science Officer Allarza zh’Therr began a sweep of the area with her tricorder while Chief Engineer Jillian Velazquez began probing through the damaged sections of the hull with her own tricorder. The other Away Team members began sorting through the wreckage, looking for survivors.
“Life signs are present on the Bridge but they’re faint,” the Andorian woman informed MacEwan.
“All right. Tabby, give me a hand.” Straining at it, he tried to open the door to the Bridge. It wasn’t until Tabbarei M’Roah, or Tabby, as the crew called him, came forward and managed to get the door to the Bridge open with his bare paws. The smell of burnt ozone and skin hit them, causing some of the Away Team members to gag on the stale air. Through the ozone smile, the Lincoln’s First Officer was the first person to step through the passageway and look around.
The Romulan Bridge was in shambles. Small fires burned nearby. Computer screens were smashed and sheets of tritanium metal hung from the ceiling. Despite all of the damage, there were bodies lying everywhere. Some of them were living. And some of them… not living anymore.
MacEwan saw a person near him. Instinctively, he kneeled down and felt the Romulan officer’s neck for a pulse. There wasn’t one. Taking his hand away, he saw that it was smeared with jade-colored blood. Shaken a little by it, he turned to face the members of his Away Team.
“Commander Velazquez, take your team down to their Engineering section. See what you can do down there.”
The Mexican woman snorted a little. “With this hunk of junk? We might as well scuttle this poor thing.” Turning around, she stepped off of the Bridge, followed by her team of engineers.
The rest of the Away Team entered the room and began to investigate. The smell of death was everywhere but suddenly out of nowhere, Doctor Nandor called out with a shout. “Commander!”
MacEwan rushed over to find the Lincoln’s Chief Medical Officer was kneeling down by the command chair. Sitting in the seat was an older Romulan with silver-gray hair. Half of his face was a gruesome mask covered in burns, scrapes, and green blood.
“He’s alive, but barely. The rest of the Bridge crew is dead,” he informed the First Officer. “I’ll have to give him a few drops of Cordrazine Gamma or we’ll lose him.”
“Be careful, Doc.”
Nandor administered the drug and slowly the Romulan’s breathing became relaxed. His eyelids began to flutter. His lips moved as if he was trying to speak. The Commander leaned over him to listen. As he did, a look of shock was spread across his face.
“Commander?”
The First Officer looked up at Nandor. “Doctor, see what you can do for the survivors. I’m going to contact the ship. Wait – Beam him over immediately and do whatever you can for him.” He nodded his head towards the Romulan Commander.
“I’ll try but I can’t promise you that – “
“Just do it!”
Surprised by his attitude, Nandor tapped his combadge. “Nandor to Lincoln. Three to beam over. Send us directly to Sickbay. Then beam another medical team over here.” With a twinkling of blue light from the transporter effect, Nandor, his Chief Nurse, and the Romulan disappeared.
MacEwan tapped his own combadge after watching them beam away. “First Officer to Lincoln.”
“Lincoln here. Arthur, what the hell is going on over there?”
“We found out who’s responsible for the attack on the Romulans, Captain.”
“Who was it?”
Choosing his words carefully, MacEwan said,” The Borg.”
****
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