Dark Territory: Parasite Eve

[DarKush]

****************

USS Renegade
Sickbay
Isolation Ward


“It’s quite ingenious really,” Eknath uncommonly gushed, “in a warped way of course. Counteracting the baryonic radiation by dousing yourself with beta radiation; though that led to another set of medical problems.” Glover nodded impatiently.

“So, can I speak with the patients now?”

“Yes Lieutenant,” the doctor replied. He pressed the console beside the transparent doors leading to the isolation ward. The three Bonaventure survivors, dressed in blue hospital scrubs, were huddled together in a far corner of the room. They looked at Terrence and Eknath with open suspicion. The looks made Glover long to have a phaser.

“I’m Lieutenant Terrence Glover,” he said. “Ship’s Second Officer.” His three counterparts looked at each other, before a blonde human male spoke.

“I’m Lt. Commander Luc Trudeau,” he said, turning to nod at each of his compatriots, “and they are Lieutenants Kaie and Ndako.” The Trill female and K’normian male also nodded at Glover.

“Is it true? Are the we the only survivors from Bonaventure?” asked Lt. Kaie, a smallish Trill female, with close cropped raven hair, gazed deeply at Terrence with eyes too ancient for her young face. Had the woman seen so much on that Bonaventure, or before to earn such a gaze, the lieutenant absently wondered.

Glover looked at Eknath. “They don’t know?” He whispered.

“I told them, but it appears that the horrendous reality is a bit too much for them to absorb at the moment,” the Saurian said quietly.

“I see,” Glover said. He then addressed the sad trio. “I’m sorry for your loss, but you are the only survivors from the Bonaventure.”

“That’ll be all Mr. Glover,” Commander Holmes stentorian voice stamped on his words. “Why are you not on the bridge?”

Terrence reined in his annoyance yet again. He ground his teeth, and bit back a snappy retort. He turned slowly to see the First Officer just outside the isolation ward’s door. “Dr. Eknath informed the bridge that the patients had been sufficiently decontaminated. Since you and the captain were interrogating the Klingon, and I had the conn, I took it upon myself to secure statements from them.”

“Klingon?” Trudeau said, his face reddening with anger. “You have a Klingon onboard?”

“How many?” Lt. Ndako asked, his golden eyes burning with anger. “Are they from the ship that attacked us?”

“That’s enough,” Holmes said. He glared at Glover. “Mr. Glover, back to the bridge.”

“But Commander,” Terrence protested.

“That’s an order!”

“Yes sir,” Glover said through gritted teeth.

***************

USS Renegade
Captain’s Ready Room


Instead of assuming the conn, Terrence went straight to the captain’s ready room. Before the door had even closed behind him, he blurted, “What the hell is going on?”

Captain Scott closed the laptop on her desk, and stood out of her chair. She planted both arms, by the knuckles, on the desk’s top. She speared Terrence with her gaze. “Who the hell do you think you are to address a superior officer like that?”

The vehemence in Tryla’s words pulled Terrence back from the brink. He blinked several times, his mind frozen. “I-I’m sorry.” He said eventually. “It’s just… I don’t like being left out.”

“It’s called need to know, and you don’t need to know,” Scott said.

“Captain, you’ve elicited my advice on other important matters,” Glover tried.

“Not this time,” the captain said. “And I suggest you let the matter drop. No more unilateral actions.”

“‘Unilateral actions’?” Terrence asked, exasperated. “I don’t follow.”

“You should’ve informed both Fred and I when Eknath told you the patients were safe enough to be interviewed, instead of doing it yourself. Stop bucking for plaudits Terrence.”

“I was trying to do my duty,” he replied hotly. “You told me to get you answers and that was what I was attempting to do! I knew you and the XO were busy with Ch’ran, so I was doing the team work thing, which you’re always harping on me to do more of. Sorry,” he said, with roiling frustration.

“Commander Holmes and Gart will conduct this investigation from here on in,” Scott said. “Your shift’s up in a half hour. Take off now, go back to your cabin and think about what I said.”

“Yes sir,” Glover said, exiting the room without asking for or waiting to be dismissed.

******************

USS Renegade
Second Officer’s Cabin

“Dad, something really fishy is going on,” Terrence said. Several new lines of worry joined the rest on Admiral Samson Glover’s weathered face. The older man rubbed a hand over his salt and pepper hair.

“Terrence you could be overreacting. You’re only the second officer. You can’t be privy to everything the senior leadership does.”

“But Dad, you don’t understand. There have been other times when the captain has shared things with me, asked for my insight, on stuff that I wasn’t privy to. What’s so different about this time?” Of course Terrence couldn’t tell his father that part of his anger was fueled by frustration at the sudden aloofness of a not merely a commanding officer, but a woman he had last shared a bed with only a few days ago.

“Son I think you’re really blowing things out of proportion.”

“Okay, maybe I am Dad,” Glover lied. “But just to amuse me, is there something big going on or coming up.”

Samson shook his head. “Not really. There’s been a spate of officer reassignments recently, along with some deaths. And there was that business with Starbase 12 going offline, but nothing that seems ominous or too par from the course.”

“Hmmm,” Terrence rubbed his chin. “Thanks Dad. If you hear of anything….”

“I’ll let you know,” Samson replied. “But in the meantime I advise you to listen to your captain. She didn’t get there at that age by magic.”
“I know,” Glover said.

“Yeah, but sometimes you don’t act like it,” Samson grumbled.

“You’re right,” Terrence said, more contrite, “I’ll do a better joining keeping my mouth shut and my ears open.” His father grinned.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

******************

 

[DarKush]

******************
USS Horatio
Captain’s Ready Room
Mira Antliae System

Captain Walker Keel walked around his desk and grasped Tryla’s hand in a firm shake. Simultaneously the Horatio captain sized up Commander Holmes. Scott’s XO proudly withstood the scrutiny. After a minute, Keel shrugged and smiled.

“I guess he’s alright,” he said, looking over at his first officer, a morose Andorian. The Andorian didn’t return his commander’s smile. “Fred Holmes, this is Captain Walker Keel and his Executive Officer Torvald,” Scott made the introductions. Holmes replied tersely to each man.

“Now that’s out the way, what have you got for me Tryla?” Keel asked. Scott gave the man a datapad filled with the information gleaned from Ch’ran’s polymer strand. He glanced at the pad for a few minutes, his eyebrows going up and down with each revelation. Eventually he handed the pad to Torvald. The Andorian didn’t even blink while he took in the information. After he was finished he passed it back to Keel. “Wow,” Keel began. “I didn’t realize the infiltration had reached so far.”

“It’s definitely cause for concern,” Scott concurred.

“As is Ryan’s death,” Keel frowned. “He was a good man.”

“They were all good people,” Scott said, alluding to the other fallen members of the cabal. Keel nodded.

“You’re right,” the Horatio captain concluded. “That makes it even more imperative that we replenish our ranks.”

“You’re certain about Picard?” Scott asked, though she already knew Walker’s answer. “How do you know that he hasn’t been compromised yet?”

“Actually…I don’t know,” Keel admitted. “But I intend to test him when he arrives.”

“And if he fails the test?” Scott prodded.

“I’ll-I’ll do what needs to be done,” Keel said quietly, “for the survival of the Federation.”

******************

USS Renegade
In Orbit of Dytallix B


“Whoa, take a look at the Big D,” Lt. Erich Long, the ship’s Science Officer gasped. “She’s a beauty.” The large, silvery-white Enterprise-D had just joined the Renegade, the Thomas Paine, and the Horatio in orbit. The Enterprise easily dwarfed both the Renegade and Thomas Paine, which were New Orleans-class frigates, but was even larger than the Ambassador-class Horatio.

Glover repressed a shiver, remembering the shattered hull of the Bonaventure. The Enterprise-D was a sister ship of that doomed vessel, and was of identical design. Lt. Sarhana whistled.

“Got a problem with the Big D?” Glover asked.

The Phalkerian shook her head. “No, just incorporating whistling as a sign of appreciation. I’m trying to be cross-cultural here.” Terrence laughed. The Enterprise was a nice ship, but its crew was what really impressed Glover. They were the best of the best, and at one time he had hoped he would get a call from Captain Picard to serve. That call had never come and Glover’s ego had been pinched by the tacit rejection. Terrence knew that he could rise faster serving on smaller ships like the Renegade, however just the thought of serving aboard the Fleet’s flagship would’ve been a nice feather in his cap. Surely he would’ve made a better First Officer than Riker.

Terrence eventually pulled himself away from the majestic sight of the Enterprise and a life that might have been. He buried himself in his work, or at least pretended to. His mind was more preoccupied imagining what was being said on the planet below. Four Starfleet captains, meeting in secret, whatever it was it couldn’t be a good thing.

Before he knew it Captain Scott was signaling to beam aboard. Commander Holmes gave up the center seat and nearly barreled to the turbolift. Glover uneasily took the conn. For one of the first times in his career he didn’t like sitting in the captain’s chair.

*******************

USS Renegade
Captain’s Quarters


Just when she was finally drifting off to sleep, the intercom squawked. “What is it now?” Tryla groused.

“Sir, it’s a priority-one-message from the Enterprise,” the anonymous voice replied. The captain wasn’t sure who it was speaking to her, and for some reason it chilled her insides. “Put the message through, secure line.”

She hopped out of bed, taking a few seconds to steady herself. She rushed to her desk terminal and activated. “Captain Picard, what happened?”

The captain’s mouth drew into an even tighter line. “The Horatio….” She heard just a hint of give in the man’s strong voice. “It was destroyed. We suspect it might be sabotage.”

“Oh no,” Tryla said, squeezing her eyes to keep back the tears. They flowed anyway. “Walker…did anyone survive.”

Picard’s face slackened. “No. There were no survivors.”

“What are we going to do without Walker,” Scott said, more to herself than the Enterprise captain. “He was our rock. Now, he’s gone, just like Ryan, Onna, and Mac.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Captain Scott, I don’t know what your course of action should be, but I’m going to Earth. I’m going to expose this alien infiltration to Starfleet Command. Maybe if we turn on the light the insects will scatter,” Picard replied, with a quiet fury.

“Captain, do you think that’s wise?” Tryla asked, now concerned for Picard’s safety. “They obviously know who we are; they’ll be gunning for the rest of us next.”

“That’s exactly why Starfleet Command needs to be made aware of the threat we face…or be exposed as part of that threat.”

“You don’t think the infiltration has reached that far, do you?” Scott asked.

“Do you?”

“I-I’m not sure,” Tryla admitted. “I think you should speak to Admiral Quinn about this first.”

“I intend to,” Picard promised. “Once I reach Earth.”

“I’ll rendezvous with you,” Scott offered. “It’s not best for us to travel alone anymore.”

“You’re right, but Captain Rixx might need your assistance more than I,” Picard said. “He’s currently en route to the Ngame Nebula. I recommended that he remain there until he hears word from me.”

“Captain I can’t let you take on this hazard by yourself,” Tryla declared. Picard gave her a faint smile.

“Isn’t that what commanding a starship is all about?” He asked, before his expression turned more serious. “And to be frank with you Captain Scott, if the Enterprise falls victim to sabotage or some other ‘mysterious’ end, you and Captain Rixx can continue the fight.”

Scott sighed. “Damn, that makes a lot of sense.”

Picard nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch with you again once we reach Earth. Until that time be careful.”

“You too.” Switch off the transmission, Scott spoke into the intercom hidden in one of her ceiling bulkheads. “Captain Scott to Engineering.”

“Doyle here,” Tryla smiled. It was far past the Chief Engineer’s shift, but Gerri Doyle didn’t know the meaning of time off.

“Chief, I need you to run a level-one diagnostic on all propulsion systems immediately. If you find anything unusual I want to be informed ASAP.”

“I’m on it,” the woman replied. Tryla’s smile grew. With some of her subordinates, Terrence especially, he would’ve peppered her with a dozen questions before getting to work. The thought of her lover, gave Scott a wicked inspiration. “Chief, please inform Lt. Glover that I want him to initiate a similar scan on the ship’s critical systems.”

“Aye,” Doyle said.

“Scott out.” Tryla looked wistfully at the bed. There was no way she could sleep now, with thoughts of Walker Keel heavy on her mind. Also the bed hadn’t felt right without Terrence beside her anyway. She pulled off her night clothes and put on a uniform. On the way to the bridge, she woke up her XO. “Meet me in my Ready Room.”

****************

 

[DarKush]

****************

USS Renegade
Main Engineering


Chief Doyle had contacted Tryla shortly after her meeting with Commander Holmes. She had never heard the normally unflappable engineer sound so startled. More surprisingly Doyle had asked to speak to the captain alone.

Tryla’s stomach roiled as she entered Doyle’s office. She was both intrigued and frightened of what the woman wished to share with her, but she concealed her anxieties behind the sternest countenance she could muster. “Gerri what’s wrong?”

Chief Doyle, an older, thickset woman with short, salt and pepper colored hair, looked up from the small device placed on her desk. “Thank goodness I found it in time.”

“What is it?” The captain asked, walking forward. She was anxious to get a better look at the cylindrical device. “It looks like an injector rod.”

Doyle smiled coldly. “That was the point. It’s actually an explosive, primed to go off by remote control, but I’ve already deactivated it.”

“Oh my,” Tryla gasped. She leaned over from the other side of the desk. “Someone on board placed it there?”

Doyle nodded. “I’m sure of that.”

“Any ideas who?” Tryla asked, still looking at the fake rod.

“Yeah, actually I do,” the chief engineer said.

Tryla looked up, startled. “Who?” She just got out before the engineer leaped from her seat, and grabbed the captain’s shoulders. Scott ripped free of the woman’s grip.

“Gerri, what the hell are you doing?”

Doyle smiled; her gaze savage. She squatted on the desk, on all fours like some beast.

The captain reached to tap her combadge. Doyle lunged at her, forcing Scott against the wall, her head slamming hard against an unyielding bulkhead while the air was forced from her lungs. Tryla slid to the ground, dazed and terrified. The chief engineer stood over her, a grin spreading over her face.

Tryla reached for her combadge again, but tapped only her cloth. The chevron-shaped communications device wasn’t there. She looked around for it. Doyle chuckled and held out her hand. She opened it to reveal the captain’s compin nestled in her palm. Scott reached for it, and the engineer slammed her head against the wall again.

The captain’s shock was almost as great as her pain. She looked back up at the woman still standing over her. “Why?” She weakly asked.

“I’d rather show you than tell you,” Doyle said as she leaned down, her girth pressing into Tryla. With almost inhuman strength, she pinned Tryla’s arms against the wall. “This might hurt a bit, but I promise you it’s worth it.” She smiled again, but this time her mouth widened in grotesque proportion. Scott heard a faint scraping sound coming from the woman’s mouth, and then she saw Doyle’s throat bulge.

Tryla screamed as Doyle’s mouth grew wider. The chief engineer silenced her cries with a kiss.
********************

 

[DarKush]

Commenters,

I appreciate all your comments. I too thought that "Conspiracy" was a big loose end that should've been tied up during TNG's run or at least touched on again. That episode was my favorite of the first season.

I liked the fact that the DS9R revisited the parasites, and I pretty much use aspects of their take on them. However, I thought there was more that could've been done in the Relaunch with the parasites. I also didn't care for their origin. I would've preferred a more extragalatic origin than what the writers came up with. In fact, I think they should've been saved for the TNG relaunch.

Dnoth,

I thought it might make sense that the parasites were targeting other powers besides the Federation. The Klingons just seemed like a reasonable enough choice, esp. when I was thinking back to early TNG when the Klingons didn't appear all that domesticated. Also I wanted to use the name So'taj again. I think it's cool.

Mistral, sorry that you find Glover so 'distasteful'. He would probably tell you to get in line. I for one think he's a fine officer and gentleman. A little cockiness never killed anyone.

LRS,
The opinions of the Border Service stated by Glover are not shared by this author.

 

[Gibraltar]

Great stuff as always, man!

I found myself hoping against hope that Scott would find a way to beat them this time, despite already knowing the outcome. This one event changed Tryla's life forever, and as we've seen, neither she nor her career have ever recovered.

 

[Mistral]

Hey, an officer and a gentleman isn't necessarily bad-but I don't have to like him to like your stories-in fact, not liking him is part of the appeal. It keeps me focused on your tale.(no wise-cracks here, please)

 

[DavidFalkayn]

Nice. As Gibraltar pointed out, what is great about stories like this is that even though you already know the outcome, it's the journey there that's important. We get to see the event that wrecked Tryla's life and career and it's a great glimpse into the life of a younger Terrence.

 

[CeJay]

This contiues to be an excellent back story to a great episode and a terrific look back at Glover's early years. I also, only just realized that Tryla Scott and the Renegade are both from Trek canon.

I'm very much looking forward to see how things will look like from your angle.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Yeah, like CeJay I was a bit slow picking up that Tryla was a canon character. (It's been quite a while since I've seen "Conspiracy.")

Great back story and glimpse into a younger Glover. I really enjoyed this!

 

[Mistral]

Well, you were faster than me-I woulda kept rolling along in ignorance if y'all hadn't pointed it out. Was she the african-american captain?

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Well, you were faster than me-I woulda kept rolling along in ignorance if y'all hadn't pointed it out. Was she the african-american captain?

Yep. (Just checked Memory Alpha.)

 

[Mistral]

Things didn't end up so good for her did they?

 

[Dnoth]

It is rather gut wrenching to see, even if you know it's going to happen anyway.

I don't know if you intended to go this way or not, but it'd also be very interesting to see the ramifications of this incident in the corridors of power at Starfleet & the UFP. I'm sure it'd shake everyone to the bone. ...but I'm getting ahead of the plot.

Great work! Can't wait for more.

 

[DarKush]

********************

USS Renegade
Conference Room


Lt. Terrence Glover was on edge. His concern for Tryla was mixed with anger, confusion, and hurt over what had happened to both the captain and Chief Doyle.

He just couldn’t believe that Doyle was dead and that Tryla had killed her in self-defense. He hadn’t known Doyle all that well. She seemed more interested in her job than making friends, and Terrence had seen no reason to force the issue. None of it made sense; it seemed as if the universe itself had gone mad. Ever since Tryla, her voice bordering on hysteria, had called the bridge, asking for help, Glover felt he had been along for the ride on a train rushing over a cliff.

He had beaten Holmes and Gart to the turbolift and all three men had shared an uncomfortable silence. Terrence was sure fears were running rampant in both their minds as well. Glover’s imagination hadn’t matched the reality when he entered Doyle’s office and saw the captain, on her knees, hovering over the chief engineer. From the odd angle Doyle’s head was turned, Glover knew the woman was dead.

“What happened?” Holmes had grated. Tryla looked up at them, her eyes finding Glover, and there was something so lost in them that it frightened him. Before she could respond, she shuddered, and fell backward.

They had rushed her to Sickbay. The captain had regained her senses by the time they arrived. She had adamantly refused Eknath’s attempts for a bioscan. She only allowed him to treat her cuts and bruises. She had insisted that time was of the essence and she needed to address the senior staff immediately.

Despite Dr. Eknath’s rushed ministrations, the captain’s face was still bruised and she moved gingerly in her seat. But her eyes were steely. “I should’ve done this sooner,” she began, “but the Federation is in grave danger. There has been a conspiracy brewing for months, by an unknown alien power, to subvert Starfleet. Only a handful of officers, myself included, have known about it. Many of those officers are dead, killed by the aliens.”

Sarhana whistled. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” Holmes grumbled.

Glover shook his head slowly, trying to accept what Tryla was telling him. “I’m sorry captain, but do you have proof of this conspiracy? And are you saying that Chief Doyle was a member of it?”

Scott regarded him coolly for a moment before responding. “Yes,” she said. “On both counts.” She pressed a button inlaid on her portion of the long conference table. The small screen behind her activated. “This information was largely derived from Klingon operatives….” Tryla weaved a tale, backed up by the images on the screen that made Terrence question his grip on reality.

Tiny, purplish, scorpion-like creatures, a newly discovered parasitic form of life had first been documented on the Klingon military outpost on the planet Muldor II. Imperial Intelligence had divined that the aliens were planning to take over the Klingon Defense Force, and according to the captain, had now set their sights on the Federation. “The infiltration runs deep,” Scott somberly concluded. “Before Gerri…died, she revealed that Captain Rixx and the crew of the Thomas Paine had been compromised.”

Holmes glowered. “Damn,” he softly cursed.

“How did the Klingons stop them?” Lt. Long asked.

Tryla tilted her head quizzically, regarding the question for a few moments. “It appeared that Klingon physiology ultimately proved too resistant, and the Defense Force also took no precaution in wiping out even a hint of infestation. The entire Muldor system was ‘cleansed’,” the captain finished with a shudder.

“My gods,” Dr. Eknath gasped. “Surely there had to be a better way.”

“The Klingons methods were brutal, but perhaps they had the right thing in mind,” Holmes said. “These parasites are extremely intelligent and very dangerous. They take over people’s bodies, their minds. Even letting one survive could’ve caused untold damage to the Empire, and now they’re targeting the Federation.”

“That’s why we’ve got to stop them,” the captain declared, “before they can infect others. The Enterprise is heading to Earth to inform Starfleet Command of the conspiracy. The aliens know they have been discovered, and we’ve got to stop them from launching whatever they have in store for us….or Captain Picard.”

“Has anyone stopped to try to establish a dialogue with these creatures?” The chief medic asked. “Perhaps their intentions are peaceful.”

Holmes grunted, but Scott nodded. “I’ve often pondered that at first,” she admitted. “But their actions prove otherwise.”

“Are you going to inform Captain Picard about Rixx?” Glover asked. Scott responded with a tight smile, but her gaze grew even more frigid. “He might have some ideas about what the Thomas Paine is up to or at least so he can be on guard,” he added weakly.

“To be honest, Jean-Luc is a late comer to this,” the captain replied. “He knew less than any of us, and perhaps that’s for the best. Captain Keel is dead and Rixx has been infected. I think Earth is probably the safest place for the Enterprise to be heading. No, this is our fight. It has been all along. I regret not informing you all sooner, but I need your support now.”

The crew all nodded in agreement. Terrence did too, but not as enthusiastically as the others. Scott smiled again. “Thank you. The Thomas Paine was last headed for the Ngame Nebula. I have already ordered the ship to lay in an intercept course. I need you all at your posts, and I require your best. The next few hours will not be easy, but I expect nothing but the best from you. Furthermore, to prevent further acts of sabotage I have ordered all non-essential personnel confined to their quarters for the duration of this mission.”

“Sir…don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” Glover asked.

Scott rubbed her bruised cheek. “No more extreme than my chief engineer trying to kill me. Listen, these things, whatever they are, aren’t just imitating us, they are us, or rather, inside us. With a crew this size, that means there are too many potential threats to leave walking freely about the ship. Right now, none of us can be fully trusted.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Gart added.

“I know it does,” Terrence groused, “but it just doesn’t sound right to me. It sounds like overkill.”

“This is my ship, and I will run it as I see fit,” Scott said sharply. “The safety of this crew is my responsibility.”

“It’s our responsibility,” Glover shot back.

“That’s enough Lt. Glover,” Holmes moved forward in his seat. Glover did the same.

“This meeting is adjourned,” Scott said. “Terrence, hang back.”
Glover waited pensively as the rest of the crew filed out of the conference room. Once they were alone, Glover left his seat. He sat on the edge of the table and reached out to grasp Tryla’s hand.

She pulled away from him. “What are you doing?”

“Tryla, what do you mean?” He reached for her again.

“Touch me again, and I will call security,” Scott said. She stood up quickly. “I had wanted to allay your concerns, but it appears you have other intentions in mind. Need I remind you of Starfleet regulations pertaining to fraternization?”

“What are you talking about?” Terrence asked, punctuating it with a nervous laugh. He stood up and faced the captain. “Is this some type of joke? I know you’re under a lot of stress and all.”

He reached for her again, and wrapped her in his arms before she could protest. “What’s wrong with you?” He asked, as the woman began to struggle. “I know you’re probably pissed off about my questioning your orders, but that has nothing to do with us.”

“With us?” She asked, her coyness sounding more like confusion.

“Need I spell it out?” He laughed again.

“Yes, please proceed.”

Terrence sighed. “You sure like to play games sometimes. Okay, we’re lovers, even though you haven’t been so tender lately.”

“‘Lovers?’ ” Tryla shuddered and she instantly relaxed in his arms. “Lovers,” she repeated softly in his ear. “Is that right?”

“It used to be,” he said.

“Perhaps we can be again,” she said.

“That’s more like it,” he grinned. The captain nudged him back toward the table. He pushed the chair out of the way and sat on the tabletop. She pressed against him.

“I want to explore,” she said.

“Now? Here?”

“Yes.”

“In the middle of a crisis?”

“Can you think of a better time?”

“Actually…no,” he smiled. Now, she was starting to sound again like the Tryla he knew. Perhaps it was all the stress that was making her act strange. He lied back on the table and she climbed on top of him. Glover pulled the woman on top of him, crushing her body against his in a strong embrace. Tryla moaned softly, the sound arousing Glover even more. He began to roughly explore the woman’s body, but suddenly he stopped. She looked at him askance, the coldness from her gaze completely melted.

“What’s wrong?”

“What about your injuries? I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “Perhaps we should do this some other time, when you’re fully healed.”

“I want to do it now,” she replied. “I want to experience this sensation.”

“Huh?”

She kissed him. “I’m not as fragile as you might think,” she said, before kissing him again, this time even more hungrily. Glover relented, giving into his passion. His hands resumed their journey up her back. He intended to move from the nape of her neck to the zipper at her throat. His fingers brushed across something sharp sticking out of the captain’s neck.

Glover gently ran his fingers over it again. “Tryla…captain,” he said more formally after she didn’t respond to his first summons.

“What?”

“What the hell is this?” He fingered the protrusion again, it twitched. The captain rose up, planting her arms on both sides of his head. She sighed, and the heat she radiated died in an instant.

“You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you Terrence? A pity,” she said.

“Huh…what are you talking about?” Glover tried to rise up, but the captain head butted him with such force that black waves undulated before his eyes. His eyes watering, he glanced at Tryla. A rictus grin was spread across her face.

“It’s unfortunate that our Queen sent only one of us to this vessel. You would make a prime host,” Tryla said, but Glover knew it wasn’t her truly speaking.

“Release the captain immediately,” he demanded. The thing controlling Tryla made her laugh. Her thighs locked tightly around his ribs with crushing force.

Her arms pinned him to the table, and he struggled futilely against her. “Fight it Tryla, you’re stronger than it, don’t let them win.”

“Too late,” the captain said, before she head butted him again.
******************

 

[DarKush]

Double Post. Sorry.

 

[DarKush]

******************

USS Thomas Paine
En Route to the Ngame Nebula


“Captain Rixx,” Lt. Zarla, the ship’s Operations Officer called, a curious tone in her voice. “Long range scanners are picking up another starship on an approach vector.”

The captain tensed immediately. “Identify them.”

“It’s the Renegade,” Zarla replied. Rixx relaxed slightly. Even though he was glad it was Tryla, the Bolian was now concerned about the reasons for her appearance. Captain Picard had told him that he would recommend that Tryla also sought cover inside the nebula, but Rixx didn’t think she would go for that. His impression of the young human was that she was very headstrong and liked to be in the eye of the storm. Whatever might be making her turn away from that storm certainly couldn’t be good.

“Hail them,” Lt. Commander Glen Palfrey, reading Rixx’s mind, said. The captain gave his First Officer a lipless smile.

“They are not responding to the hail,” Zarla replied. For Rixx, the tension was back.

“Try again,” he ordered.

“Captain, they’re powering forward phasers,” Tactical Officer Dixon yelled. Seconds later the ship rattled as several powerful volleys struck it. Rixx held onto his armrests, the only reason he remained planted in his seat. Most of the rest of bridge crew weren’t as fortunate, Commander Palfrey included.

In the dim lighting, flaming consoles produced a baleful glare. The bridge filled with the acrid smell of smoke as another round of fire smashed into the ship. “Shields,” Rixx said. “Raise the shields!”

“Too late,” Zarla looked back at him. Her planar Zaldan face was blackened and bloody. “Our shield generators were taken out in the first assault and auxiliary reserves in the second.”

“What about weapons,” Rixx said, trying not to notice that Palfrey had not resumed his post.

“We’ve still got those,” another officer had taken over the tactical console.

“Use him,” Rixx said, “and may the gods grant us mercy.”

***************

USS Renegade
Detention Center


Terrence’s head smacked the cold, hard deck, waking him up and adding to the agony of his still throbbing head. He felt hands grabbed him and he fought them off.

“Let go of me!” He screamed blindly, still half-unconscious.

“Calm down,” a voice he didn’t recognize said. “We’re just trying to help.” Glover slowly opened his eyes. He remembered the officer from the Bonaventure: Trudeau. Trudeau, flanked by his comrades, was kneeling beside him. All three had nervous expressions. The ship trembled again.

“What’s happening?” Terrence asked, but then answered his own question. “Oh God no! She’s attacking the Thomas Paine!” He tried to get up, but Trudeau grabbed him.

“Settle down,” the man got out before he was silenced by one of Terrence’s elbows. The man fell back with a thud. His crewmates rushed to catch him before he hit the deck. Terrence used the distraction to leap forward. He stopped just a hair’s breadth from slamming into the force field. “Frinx!”

“Ha, that’s the best curse you could come up with?” The Klingon Ch’ran guffawed from the adjacent cell. “I see why you Starfleeters are so weak.”

Glover ignored him. He glared at the security officer standing at the center’s operations console. Lt. Yavarn-Enlo, assistant security chief, had his phaser at the ready.

“Release me at once,” Terrence said in his most imperious voice.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” the Grazerite security guard replied.

“Why not?”

“We’re under orders from the captain to detain you until you can stand for court martial,” Yavarn replied.

“She attacked me,” Glover couldn’t constrain himself. “She’s one of them Yavarn, the captain’s infected!”

“That’s what she said about you,” the guard countered, the charge hitting Terrence like a physical blow.

“She’s-she’s lying,” Glover replied, with far less vehemence. He mulled over how he might try to convince Yavarn of the truth. “Test us, have Doctor Eknath test us.”

“You’ll have to run that by the captain,” Yavarn said. “I have my orders.”

“Yavarn,” Terrence found himself pleading, “You don’t understand. That’s not the captain.”

“Looks like her to me,” he riposted.

“It is, but it isn’t….don’t you get it, don’t you understand?” Glover said with increasing frustration.

“No, he doesn’t,” Ch’ran butted in. “None of you seem to have appreciated the truth threat of these creatures, until it was too late.”

Glover bit back his annoyance and called out to the Klingon. “You believe me?”

“Yes.”

Terrence then looked at the Bonaventure officers. Trudeau was rubbing at his bloodied mouth. Glover asked them, and they nodded in agreement too.

He turned back toward the guard. “You see, I’m not by myself in this.”

“You’re right,” Yavarn quipped. “and maybe that’s why you are all in those cells.”

“Why you cocky son of a….” Terrence’s curse died on his lips when the lights went out.

Immediately he took action, leaping across the threshold, he hit a large, fast moving object with such force that it knocked him to the ground. Yavarn screamed, and then Terrence heard a sickening, wet snap.

The lights flickered back on and Glover looked up to see Ch’ran throwing Yavarn’s lifeless body to the deck. “You bastard!” Terrence roared. He clambered to his feet and crouched in an attack stance.

Ch’ran whipped around, his hand engulfing Yavarn’s small phaser. Glover gritted his teeth, but held his ground. “You’ve all lost your minds. I’m getting off this vessel, and you’re going to help me.”

“No, I’m not.” Ch’ran waved the phaser in his face, but Terrence didn’t flinch.

“We’ll get off this ship, together, all of us.”

“That is acceptable,” Ch’ran said, surprising Glover by agreeing so easily. With his free hand he deactivated the forcefield. The three Bonaventure officers warily stepped forward.

“After we’ve warned Starfleet, I’m going to make you pay for what you did to Yavarn,” Terrence promised.

“This is war,” Ch’ran declared. “Our jailer died honorably, what is there to be angered about? Humans, I will never understand you.”

Glover was seething, but he had to put the interests of the Federation first. He didn’t want to leave, he wanted to march right up to the bridge, and plow through everyone until he could confront Tryla, or rather the thing possessing Tryla. He knew that his lover was somewhere still inside. He was certain that whatever embers of Tryla remained had kept the alien from killing him in the conference room. But Terrence knew it was a lost cause. His only hope, hell, the entire Federation’s only hope was for them to try to get away so they could sound the alarm. “This way,” he said tightly, after poking his head out of the detention center’s door.

The dim, red-lighted corridor was empty. It was a good thing that the captain’s edict restricting non-essential crew to quarters remained in affect.

They made it without incident to the Auxiliary Shuttle Bay; Glover thought it best to bypass the main one due to the high level of activity normally there. Ch’ran proved quick on the trigger and he stunned the three crewmen on duty.

Standing on the ramp leading to the Shuttle Raines, Terrence’s fear and love for Tryla began to gnaw at him. He just couldn’t leave her; he couldn’t bear the thought of that parasite inside her, controlling her for one more second. Putting her and his crew at risk. Not to mention countless others.

“You guys get out of here,” he ordered as he ran back down the ramp. “I’ve got to try to stop this.”

“No,” Trudeau called, “It’s suicide.”

“It sounds Klingon to me!” Ch’ran roared. “Glover!” Terrence looked back and reached up to grab the phaser that Ch’ran tossed at him.

“It’s not over between us,” Glover declared.

“I hope not,” Ch’ran responded. “Qa’pla!”

Terrence hopped off the ramp. He only gave the escapees a few more seconds of his attention, watching as the ramp slowly rose up and sealed shut, and the antigravs kicked in, lifting the Raines off the deck. By the time it had passed through the shuttle bay’s opened door and into space, Glover was already heading for the bridge.

*****************

USS Renegade
Main Bridge


“Keep up pursuit!” Captain Scott yelled. “Don’t let them escape into the nebula!” Between the lines of static on the viewer, she saw their damaged sister ship jetting away on full impulse. The dark gaseous body of the nebula loomed before it.

The increasingly weaker part of Tryla that was really Tryla cheered, but the shadow had engulfed her, seethed with hatred. The Queen-Spawn had commanded that all challengers to her dominion be destroyed. The soldier-spawn was determined to fulfill the Queen’s commands at all cost. Despite a devastating first strike the Thomas Paine had proven resilient, and the soldier-spawn had struggled to access all of its host’s tactical expertise. It had been surprised that a human could possess such iron will.

“Captain, there has been an unauthorized departure of one of shuttles from the auxiliary bay,” the hulking Tactical Officer Gart reported. The Queen-Spawn had decided against using the Nausicaan’s as hosts. Their strength and endurance were impressive, but their mental faculties were too small.

“Stop them! Use the tractor beam!”

“They’ve initiated evasive maneuvers.”

“Who could it be?” She looked at Commander Holmes.

“It has to be Glover,” the man ground his teeth.

“Check the detention cell,” it ordered, unable to remain immune to Scott’s admiration of the young human. He would’ve made a worthy host indeed.

“They’re gone,” Holmes said, “and one person down there is dead,” he paused, “The bio-signature is Grazerite.” Gart keened.

“Stop that shuttle, with what ever force is required,” the soldier-spawn ordered, the captain’s voice cracking as Tryla made a vain attempt to reassert control.

Gart fired. A glancing blow shook the shuttle, but did little to stop its progress. The shuttle pushed on.

“I didn’t say ‘disable’ it, I said stop it!” the soldier-spawn snapped after receiving Gart’s report of minimal damage. “We can’t allow the infection to spread.”

“Captain, but Lt. Glover is on that ship,” Holmes said, with surprising softness. “Are you sure you want to take that step? We don’t know for certain that Glover or anyone else on that shuttle is infected? Or even if they are that the infection can’t be cured.”

Scott’s body shudder as the soldier-spawn was repelled by the human’s description of it as if it was a disease, as if the clarity and strength its species gave their hosts was something undesirable. The man’s casual arrogance hardened the soldier-spawn’s resolve. “They murdered one of our crewmen. Does that sound like something Lt. Glover would normally do?”

Holmes mouth drew into a tight line and his expression became somber. He shook his balding head. “No…it doesn’t,” he admitted.

“It doesn’t sound like him to me either.” The soldier-spawn used Tryla’s distress to break into her mental defenses and access more of the human’s memories. The woman truly did love Glover, and there was some essential part of her being that was screaming in torment right now. It was an unusual, but not all together unpleasant sensation, the solider-spawn concluded.

“Stop the shuttle,” the soldier-spawn repeated. “Lethal force is permitted.”

“Captain, this isn’t right,” Holmes said, but the soldier-spawn ignored him.

“You heard me Mr. Gart,” it said, barely controlling its anger.

Several beams arced from the ship, lashing into the escaping shuttle. It exploded seconds later. Sarhana’s tortured gasp was audible. The soldier-spawn would have to deal with her later.

“Gart, what the hell was that?” Holmes bellowed. “You could’ve taken out the engines or the shields and then tractor beamed them back to us!”

“Justice,” the Nausicaan simply answered. “Maybe Yavarn’s soul can now find peace.”

“You’re relieved,” Holmes snapped.

“No, he isn’t,” the soldier-spawn replied. “Retain your post Mr. Gart. Great work.” Holmes looked at it askance, the first signs of real doubt starting to lace his weathered face. The commander would also have to be dispatched. The concept of dissension was completely foreign to the soldier-spawn, a product of a hive-mind. Such a thing could not be tolerated, even among those not blessed with such mental unity and clarity.

“Captain, I…” the First Officer began, but the soldier-spawn rounded on him. It wanted to smear the floor with him, but merely snapped:

“Mr. Gart, escort Commander Holmes from the bridge!”

“Just hold on a minute,” Holmes began.

“Now Mr. Gart,” the solider-spawn repeated. “And Lt. Sarhana too.”

“Captain,” the woman turned around in her seat. “What did I do?”

“You and Mr. Glover were very close,” it said, touching on a trace of the host’s jealousy of their friendship. “At this moment I can’t trust you to do your best.”

"And you two weren't?" The Phalkerian challenged, her face darkening.

“Captain, I must formally protest,” Holmes said, still seated. The soldier-spawn looked at Gart, jump starting the man. He bounded down into the command well.

“You can file all the protests you like while you’re in your quarters,” it replied with a heap of sarcasm. The Nausicaan stepped beside the commander and laid a large hand on his shoulder.

“Please come with me sir,” he grumbled. Holmes yanked away from Gart’s grasp, but he stood up. He scowled at the captain.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea.” The soldier-spawn merely had Tryla nod.

“Lt. Sarhana, stand down from your post,” the soldier-spawn ordered. The Phalkerian sighed, but she didn’t protest. Gart escorted them both to the turbolift. Two of the indistinguishable bridge officers assumed the vacant posts at Tactical and Flight Control. Once the turbolift doors had closed, the soldier-spawn returned its attention to the battle at hand.

“What’s our status?” The soldier-spawn began, but its words dried in Captain Scott’s mouth when the Thomas Paine made an abrupt about face and charged at the Renegade, its few remaining weapon’s banks blazing.

“Evasive maneuvers!” The soldier-spawn screamed too late.
********************

 

[DarKush]

********************

USS Renegade
Corridor


Terrence pounded down the empty, red-tinted corridors; his progress impeded by the nearly constant assault ship was weathering. The barrage almost knocked to his feet more than once, but he kept on. He had to reach the Auxiliary Control Center, an operations room that would allow him to gain control of the entire ship without having to go to the bridge or engineering, which he was sure were heavily manned. Once he had stopped the ship dead in space maybe the creature would be more amenable to persuasion and release Tryla, or at least he hoped the crew would see he was telling the truth and do something about it.

Rounding another corner, Glover froze. Commander Holmes, Lt. Sarhana, and Lt. Gart were walking down the hallway. Sarhana’s eyes widened, and Gart snarled. He pulled out his phaser. “Take cover Lt. Glover!” Holmes yelled as he grabbed the Nausicaan’s gun arm, forcing the shot to sizzle just shy of Terrence.

The smell of burnt ozone jolted Terrence into action. Instead of taking cover, he charged forward, raising his own weapon. Unfortunately he couldn’t get a shot at Gart. Both he and Holmes were struggling for the security officer’s phaser.

“Sarhana, what’s going on?” Terrence quickly asked.

“The captain….she’s….” Sarhana shook her head, her confusion and shock cutting off her words. “She…relieved the First Officer and me.”

“That’s all I needed to know,” Glover said. He joined Holmes in attempting to wrest the phaser away from Gart. The Nausicaan was incredibly powerful. He drove a pointed elbow into Terrence’s jaw, smashing teeth and bone. Glover dropped to the deck, losing his own phaser, but he fought off the pain to wrap his arms around the man’s stout legs. He jerked, throwing the Nausicaan off balance. He fell to the deck with a surprised roar.

“Move!” Sarhana shouted. Holmes tried to help untangle Glover from the fallen, thrashing Nausicaan while simultaneously holding him on the ground. Sarhana stepped forward, and aimed Terrence’s phaser at the officer. She fired. Gart laughed, and responded with a stiff uppercut that threw Holmes back. Gart then grabbed Glover roughly by the neck and began to squeeze as he got on his knees. Terrence slowed him down with a desperate punch in the man’s crotch. Gart wailed and before sinking his tusks into Terrence’s shoulder. Glover screamed.

“Now…would be a good time!” He yelled to Sarhana after the scream.

“Sorry, but I don’t want to kill him. I’m trying to figure out the best stun setting,” the Phalkerian nervously replied.

“Just do it!” Holmes snapped, his mouth welling with blood. She fired again. Gart’s grip slackened instantly. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the deck like a tree.

“Are you all right?” Sarhana asked, rushing to Glover. She inspected the nasty bite marks on the man’s shoulder.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Holmes remarked. Sarhana scowled and Glover chuckled. Terrence, using both the wall and Sarhana’s support, got to his feet. Holmes joined them.

“Still think I’m infected?” He asked the First Officer.

Holmes shook his head and looked Glover directly in the eye. “No, I don’t.”

“You really think the captain has been infected with one of those things?” Sarhana shuddered.

“It’s the only thing that can explain her behavior,” Holmes surmised. “None of this, this battle with the Thomas Paine, the destruction of the shuttle…”

“The shuttle was destroyed?” Glover asked, shock almost robbing him of speech. Holmes nodded, his expression full of remorse.

“The captain ordered it,” he said.

“Oh God,” Glover placed a hand against his forehead. “We’ve got to stop her…it…before anymore damage is done or lives are lost.”

“Agreed,” the two other officers affirmed.

“So, where were you headed?” Holmes asked.

“Auxiliary Control,” Terrence replied. Holmes gave him a bloody grin.

“I know where you’re going with this, and I like it,” the commander replied. Glover smiled too.

“Glad you agree.”

“How about you two save the rapprochement until after we’ve regained control of the ship?” Sarhana asked.

Holmes shrugged and Terrence chuckled. The three headed toward Auxiliary Control, keeping each other on their feet as the deck plates continued to tremble.

**********************

USS Renegade
Main Bridge

“Captain? Captain, are you all right?” Lt. Long asked. He was currently occupying Holmes’s seat. The soldier-spawn didn’t respond. The Queen-Spawn needed it. The Enterprise was en route to Earth, and its imminent arrival was causing distress to reverberate among the groupmind. The wall of fear had reached the Queen, and it needed reassurance.

“Lay in a new course,” the soldier-spawn ordered.

“Where too?” Long asked, doing his best to hide his frustration and confusion.

“Earth,” it said.

“Earth?” The officer standing in for Gart asked, her tone incredulous. “But sir, we’re in the middle of a battle. We can’t just cut out and allow those infected to get away.”

“You have your orders,” the soldier-spawn snapped. “Carry them out!” Long looked at the Tactical Officer, and gave a barely noticeable shrug.

“You heard the captain,” he said to the whole bridge crew. “Lay in a course for Earth.”

“Maximum warp,” it added.

“Maximum warp,” Long repeated. The soldier-spawn then remembered something.

“Where is Lt. Gart? It shouldn’t have taken him that long to drop off Commander Holmes and Lt. Sarhana and return to the bridge.”

Long began checking. A half-minute later he glanced at the captain, a worried expression on his face. “You’re not going to like this,” he began.

***********************

 

[McCovey Cove]

A little bit of a double-post, there, but I enjoyed reading this story.

-- ZC

 

[DarKush]

Sorry about the double post. I think I was trying to edit a passage and did something wrong.

 

[Gibraltar]

You've got me on the edge of my seat. This is great material. The brawl in the corridor was brutal and wonderfully visceral; you could almost taste the blood. Wonderful tension and action, and I'm even starting to warm up to Holmes.