"Beginning Again" (January '12 Challenge Entry)

[TheLoneRedshirt]

"Beginning Again"


by The Lone Redshirt
​

January 2012 Challenge Theme – A New Day is Dawning

7,283 Words
​

Stardate 53376.7 (17 May 2376)
Deep Space 3

Lt. Daniel Norden peered through the transparent aluminum viewport at his new (though temporary) billet – the USS Kearsarge (NCC-21507), a space-worn Block II Miranda-class frigate – one of the lucky few of her class and vintage that had survived the Dominion War relatively unscathed.

Relatively, for there were obvious patches on her – shiny Tritanium plates that contrasted with the dull finish on her original pitted and streaked hull like fresh bandages over grimy and blistered skin. As with many of her sister ships, the rushed repair work was slap-dash, the seams rough and uneven. The yard workers had not even bothered to repaint her name and registry, so the lettering read:

U. .S. KE RS GE​

NC - 21 07​

Norden wondered how hard it would have been to paint on the missing letters and numbers? It was a sobering reminder of the depleted state of the fleet that ships were sent back into service in such a shoddy state, particularly since the war had been over for nearly six months. The war had been won but the peace apparently was still in jeopardy.

He absently flexed and clenched his left hand – the synthetic skin still tight and the regenerated nerve endings still tingled. His personal repair work was necessitated by plasma burns he suffered when the Horatio had been ravaged by a pair of Cardassian frigates. At least the Starfleet surgeons had managed to match the pigmentation of his new skin with his old – down to the reddish hair and freckles. His real scars – unlike those of the Kearsarge – were hidden within.

Three weeks in a Starbase hospital (two in a drug-induced coma) were followed by a month in therapy, then accumulated shore leave back home on Earth.

That had been the worst.

His fiancé, Amy, had broken off their engagement (she needed time to ‘think things over,’ as if four years had not been enough.) Then he had learned that a board of inquiry was investigating the loss of Horatio, with pointed questions aimed at the engineering department – of which he had been assistant chief. He had thus been passed over for promotion to lieutenant commander, even though Captain Tarkalian had assured Dan that he was on the short list.

And now, he was being assigned as a “Mission Specialist” to the Kearsarge. Officially, he was not even part of the command staff of the ship – he was a glorified passenger with one job – to oversee a modification to the warp drive that would supposedly allow the ship to safely traverse a black cluster.

A very, very bad idea to Norden’s way of thinking. Not that he’d had much choice in the matter. Still, serving as Mission Specialist for Project Athena beat sitting in an office on Earth or some Starbase.

Lt. Norden picked up his clamshell case and cast another look at the Kearsarge. It would probably be the last he would see of her exterior for several weeks – a thought assuaged by the fact that Kearsage was uglier than sin.

As he turned to make his way to the airlock leading to the ship, he felt a sudden sense of unease – a vague feeling of deja vu. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine and he suddenly had a strong urge to turn and walk away.

Yeah – that’s the ticket. Add desertion to your list of woes. Get your ass on the ship, Dan old boy.

He shook his head fractionally, angry at his momentary anxiety attack and walked briskly to the airlock.

* * *

“So you’re Norden. Welcome aboard, Lieutenant.” Captain Francis “Hokie” Poiroux, C.O. of Kearsarge, gave Lt. Norden a perfunctory handshake and indicated a vacant chair across from his desk. Poiroux settled into his own chair with a grunt and folded his hands across his middle, regarding Norden with hooded eyes.

Captain Poiroux was in his early sixties, his thick, wavy hair – once dark –was now a dull slate gray. Bags hung under his eyes like sagging hammocks and a thick mustache obscured his upper lip. A toothpick hung from his lower lip, ticking up and down as Poiroux gave Norden the once-over.

Norden didn’t mind the scrutiny. The board of inquiry back on Earth had been more thorough than a Proctologist.

The Captain glanced at the PADD then back at Norden. “Mission Specialist, huh? I ask for a new Tactical Officer and they give me a frickin’ Specialist. ” Poiroux tossed the PADD on his desk with asperity.

Norden gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry sir. I just go where I’m told.”

Poiroux grunted. “Don’t we all.” His Cajun accent, though muted, was distinctive. “Hell, it’s not your fault that Command still can’t figure out what to do with everyone coming off busted starships.”

“No sir.”

The Captain sighed. “Relax Lieutenant,” he said, noting Norden’s clipped answers and defensive posture. “I’m not pissed off at you. My problem is with this modification to the warp drive. We spent the better part of two months getting patched up only to be pulled back into space dock for ‘classified upgrades.’ My people are getting antsy and bored – a bad combination – and now we learn we get to be part of some half-assed experiment? I don’t like it Lieutenant, not one bit.”

Lt. Norden had no response to that other than, “No sir.” Truth be told, he had limited knowledge of the “modifications.” Someone up the ladder had decided that he, being an engineer, was somehow qualified to oversee the test of the upgrades.

Poiroux eyed the taciturn officer. “You’re a quiet one, Norden. At least you’re not trying to blow smoke up my ass – I’ll give you credit for that.” He stood, signifying that the meeting was at an end. “Just see that your ‘experiment’ doesn’t hurt my ship or anyone on it – clear?”

Norden nodded. “As crystal, sir.” He sounded more confident than he felt.

The Captain held Norden’s gaze a moment longer. “One other thing – I know that technically you’re TDY on my ship, but we are still short-handed and both my XO and Chief Engineer are new to the ship. Hell, the XO doesn’t have combat experience. He spent the war as some admiral’s aide. From your file I know you’ve got a lot of solid experience and your previous commanders thought highly of you. And, reading between the lines, it looks like you got the shaft when you were passed over for promotion. I may not be able to help much there, but if you’ll help out with engineering and bridge duty – – I’ll see if I can put in a good word for you; maybe see that you get a fresh start.”

It wasn’t much of a promise and the praise was damnably faint, but Norden appreciated the gesture nonetheless. For the first time, he smiled.

“Thank you, Captain. I would appreciate being . . . useful.”

Poiroux nodded. “Good. Go see the XO, Lt. Commander nor’Ykan – he’ll get you assigned to a cabin and on the bridge rotation. We depart in three hours and it will take us three days to get to the Black Cluster. According to our orders, this experiment should last about a week to ten days, then we return, download our telemetry, run a systems diagnostic, inspect the hull and do it again, right?”

Dan nodded. “Yes sir – that’s my understanding.”

Poiroux grunted. “Yeah it all sounds so simple. Too simple.” He jerked his head in the direction of the door. “Off with you, Mr. Norden. I’ll see you on the bridge at 1600.”

* * *

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Lt. Commander Nilyas nor'Ykan was typical of his race. Like most natives of Rigel VII, he had iridescent bronze skin, golden eyes and unruly brass-colored hair that branched out in seemingly random directions. Nor’Ykan was a friendly sort and talked in a rapid-fire manner which could be perfectly normal for Rigellians or a sign of nervousness.

“Where did you last serve, Dan?” asked the XO as they took the turbo-lift to deck 5 and Norden’s new quarters.

“I was assistant engineer on the Horatio, at least until the battle to retake Deep Space 9.”

The XO paused before a cabin door and keyed in a security code. “What happened?”

Norden shrugged. “I don’t remember much. When I woke up almost a month later, I was in a hospital bed on Starbase 356. Horatio was destroyed in the battle along with over 300 of her crew. I was one of the lucky ones that survived.”

“I see,” replied the XO. It was obvious that the Rigellian felt awkward, so Norden let him off the hook.

“Thanks for showing me to the cabin, Commander. I understand I’m to report to the bridge at 1600 hours?”

Nilyas nodded, grateful for the change of subject. “That’s right. If it’s alright with you, I’ll put you at the engineering station. We’re short-handed and Lt. Hawser, our engineer, would prefer to be in main engineering when we launch.”

Norden almost pointed out that his own feelings in the matter were irrelevant. But the Rigellian XO was going out of his way to make him feel welcome, so he merely said, “That sounds fine sir.”

“Good. Well, I’ll let you get settled in. See you at 1600.” Lt. Commander nor’Ykan beat a hasty retreat.

Dan didn’t blame him. In his experience, those who did not see combat during the war became uncomfortable around those that did, particularly those who had been injured.

Or, as in Norden’s case, had their ship destroyed and hundreds of friends and colleagues killed.

He entered the cabin, dismissing the XO from his mind. “Lights,” he called out.

The computer dutifully complied, revealing a cabin similar to tens of thousands like it on thousands of starships across the quadrant. It provided adequate space and comfort and was almost completely lacking in charm. Blue-gray walls curved upward to a ceiling festooned with light panels, environmental vents, and subtly lettered access panels. There was a standard sized bed, a desk with computer terminal and chair, a small bedside table and a sofa. Thankfully, the cabin was devoid of the insidiously awful artwork common to many ships.

He tossed his clam-shell case on the sofa and checked out the head. No surprises there – a sonic shower, sink and toilet. Everything looked clean – sterile actually.

Norden returned to the main room. He considered ordering a beverage from the replicator, but he wasn’t thirsty. There was no point checking the computer for messages since there was no longer anyone in his life to send one. His parents were dead and as for Amy, well . . .

He walked to the oval-shaped viewport and stared out. His cabin faced away from the station, affording him a view of the stars. A Steamrunner-class ship glided slowly by but otherwise the vista was still and silent.

Once more, that vague sense of disquiet ran soft tendrils through his mind. He closed his eyes, as if to grasp a fragment of memory or dream . . .

. . . to no avail. With a sigh, he turned from the viewport and began to unpack his carry-all.

* * *

The bridge module of the Kearsarge had been upgraded, whether as a result of battle damage or scheduled refit, Norden neither knew or cared. He’d served on Miranda-class ships before and actually preferred the older, classic bridge design. Sometimes progress wasn’t really progress. The new design seemed more cramped, less crew-friendly. Even the captain’s chair seemed less prestigious, smaller somehow upholstered in a non-descript brown.

He sat idly at the engineering console – a seldom used station at the rear of the bridge. Captain Poiroux sat in the command chair, scowling silently to himself as the crew prepared for departure stations. Norden wondered if something was troubling the Captain or if surliness was his normal state.

Ahead of the Captain sat the helm officer – a Vulcan female, and the Ops officer – a dark skinned jay-gee by the name of Warren Rainer.

The XO stood near the Captain. Hovered might be a better word, for he continually glanced at Poiroux, posing questions and making comments. For his part, Captain Poiroux replied in a series of short grunts. Dan could imagine Poiroux fitting in well on the bridge of a Klingon ship.

Immediately behind the command chair were the tactical and sensor stations – both unoccupied at the moment. Opposite Norden’s station was environmental control – likewise vacant. It seemed that Captain Poiroux did not like a crowded bridge.

“We have clearance for departure, Captain,” announced Rainer from Ops.

“’Bout time,” groused Poiroux. “Ensign Vynaar – thrusters at station keeping. Mr. nor’Ykan – the ship is in your hands. Give the order.”

Norden thought he saw a sheen of perspiration on the Rigellian’s face. Or perhaps it was the play of light on his iridescent skin. Regardless, his orders, though somewhat quiet were precise, providing maneuvering orders to the helmsman in a timely manner.

Kearsarge backed away from her docking point and turned gracefully away from Deep Space 3.

“Ahead one-quarter impulse until we reach the outer markers,” ordered the XO.

The Vulcan helm officer complied and the ship began to surge forward as the ion-mass drivers kicked in. As the Kearsarge picked up speed, a low rumbling noise reverberated through the hull. Norden could feel intermittent vibration in the deck plates. Frowning, he turned to the engineering panel.

“Temperature spikes in the starboard exhaust manifold are creating the harmonics,” he announced. “Nothing serious, but I would recommend that we don’t exceed our current speed.”

Poiroux grunted an acknowledgment and tapped his combadge. “Bridge to Engineering.”

“Engineering - Lt. Hawser here.”

“Mr. Hawser, why are my engines running rougher than a Klingon’s backside?”

“We’re working on the problem, Captain. It looks like sediment in the Deuterium feed lines. Apparently the dock-workers didn’t flush the new tanks after they installed them.”

Captain Poiroux muttered something in his Cajun dialect that didn’t sound complimentary. “Can you flush them while we’re underway?” he asked, his annoyance apparent.

“Yes sir, we can switch to the auxiliary tanks for the time being. The ride should smooth out shortly.” A pause. “Captain, it would help if we could have a proper shake-down cruise.”

“You’re already on it, mister - three days to the Black Cluster. You have that long to work out the bugs, so get on it. Poiroux, out.”

Norden felt some sympathy for the Chief Engineer. Three days was not nearly long enough for a thorough shake-down. Yet he also had to wonder why Lt. Hawser and his engineering team had not discovered the sediment in the Deuterium tanks before launch. An old adage was to never trust the inspection report from a civilian dock worker. Always go back and check the work yourself.

From the expression on Poiroux’s face, Dan was pretty sure the Captain had the same thought in mind.

* * *

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

The rest of the shift proceeded smoothly, as did the impulse engines. Lt. Hawser’s back-flushing of the tanks proved successful and Kearsarge proceeded quickly out of the system before jumping to warp.

With all systems functioning normally, Norden fell back into the role of passenger. He called up the notes on the briefing he would have to provide to the senior officers about the experiment. The words were confident, comforting and vague.

Frustrated, he closed the file. And once again, that sense of unease crept upon him.

You’ve just got a case of nerves, he chided himself. It’s been months since you logged a star hour. Just do your job, keep out of trouble, and you’ll be off to your next assignment in six weeks, tops.

The fact that he had no idea what his next assignment might be did not trouble him so much. What did bother him was that the idea he would be moving on after six weeks rang false.

Dan had no idea why he felt this way. He was more annoyed than troubled, and forced his attention back to the engineering station. He could at least review the Miranda-class tech manuals to re-familiarize himself and shift his thoughts away from fanciful nonsense.

* * *

The officers’ mess was nearly deserted when Lt. Norden entered. He made his way to the bank of replicators on the far wall and ordered a chicken sandwich on wheat and a side of cole-slaw. A cup of coffee rounded out his evening meal and he took his tray to an empty table.

Across the room, two junior officers ate and conversed in quiet tones. At another table, a Bolian female wearing the blue trim of science/medical perused a pad and sipped at her drink.

Dan glanced idly around. On the walls were vintage photos of Kearsage’s predecessors. Two ocean-going vessels from Earth’s past were displayed – an Essex-class aircraft carrier and a later LHT. There was a painting of a sailing ship and an early Starfleet vessel that looked to be at least a century old. He did not know the history of the Kearsarge name, but it apparently had a storied past.

As he absently chewed his sandwich and pondered the lineage of Kearsarge, the doors to the mess slid open and a tall Denobulan entered. He wore a blue lab-coat and lieutenant commander’s pips on his collar. Norden guessed (correctly) that this was Dr. Jurnux, the CMO.

The surgeon spoke briefly with the Bolian woman before getting his dinner from the replicator. Turning, he spotted Lt. Norden and began moving his way.

“You must be our Mission Specialist,” he began. “I’m Dr. Jurnux, may I share your table?”

Norden gestured for him to take a seat. “Dan Norden, Doctor. Nice to meet you.”

The CMO smiled. “Thank you. I make it my business to get to know the crew – it helps should I ever need to provide medical treatment.”

“I’m TDY, Doctor. I probably won’t be here long enough to visit sickbay.” At least, I hope not, he amended, silently.

Jurnux tucked a napkin into his collar – something that Norden recalled his grandfather doing at Thanksgiving meals. “Nonetheless, I’m pleased for the opportunity to get acquainted. I’ve already reviewed your medical records – do you mind?”

“Mind wha - ?” Without waiting for permission, Dr. Jurnux took Dan’s hands and carefully examined them – turning them over and back, making small noises of satisfaction.

Norden dutifully allowed the exam, suppressing a sigh.

“Very nice work,” murmured the CMO. “Whoever did this must have used the new Mark IV dermal regenerator.”

Dan smiled. “I couldn’t tell you, Doc. I was unconscious for most of my hospital stay.”

“Indeed. Any pain or numbness?”

“None,” lied Norden. He didn’t think the tingling sensation worth mentioning and he really didn’t want to get into a medical conversation. He decided to change the subject.

“How long have you served on Kearsarge, Doctor?”

“Just over five years. There aren’t too many of us left on Kearsarge from the pre-war days.”

“Casualties?”

“Some. Mostly transfers after the war ended and the ship was laid up for repairs. Off to bigger and better things, I suppose.” He popped a piece of raw meat into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Besides Captain Poiroux, Lieutenant Sybok and myself, all the senior officers are new to the ship.”

“Lt. Sybok?”

“Our Chief Operations Officer. He usually has bridge duty during Gamma Shift. Typical Vulcan – reserved, logical, highly intelligent – a very competent Ops manager.”

Dan decided to go out on a limb. “Has Captain Poiroux always been so . . .”

“Crusty?” finished Jurnux with a smile. “I’ve always liked that Terran euphemism – yes, he’s always been somewhat rough around the edges, but he’s a fine C.O. and a fair man. I think he’s showing more signs of stress regarding this mission, though.”

“Oh?”

Jurnux hesitated. “Really, I should not say too much. It’s not doctor-patient privilege, exactly, but . . .” He leaned forward in a conspiratorial whisper. “Captain Poiroux is angry that Starfleet is using his ship as a . . . how did he put it? ‘A goddam guinea pig for dangerous and unnecessary experiments.’”

Norden snorted. “Between you and me, Doc, I don’t blame him.”

The CMO looked troubled. “Do you believe it is dangerous and unnecessary?”

Dan shook his head. “Dangerous? No, not really. 90% of the modifications are software upgrades. The hardware changes mainly involve links between the navigational array and the warp-field generators. We should know pretty quickly whether we can maintain a stable warp-field as we enter the Black Cluster. If we can – the experiment is a success and we collate a lot of arcane data for future tests. If not, we drop to impulse and limp out of range of the energy fields before heading back to Deep Space 3.”

Doctor Jurnux looked relieved. Lt. Norden sounded more confident than he felt as he reassured the CMO. In truth, he had no idea what the worst-case scenario might be.

Nor did he really want to know.

They chatted for several minutes more. Jurnux was quite personable and seemed genuinely interested in Norden. Dan found that he liked the talkative Denobulan – a surprise, since he had become somewhat gun-shy around medical types.

The surgeon excused himself to return to sickbay. Dan put the remains of his sandwich in the ‘cycler and returned to his cabin for a night’s rest.

* * *

Dan sat bolt upright in bed – his heart hammering and sweat pouring profusely from his body. He gasped for air as the remnants of the nightmare began to fade.

“Lights,” he whispered hoarsely. The darkness was pushed back, dazzling Dan’s eyes. “Half intensity,” he ammended, squinting. The lights dimmed to a less painful level.

He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and waited for his pulse-rate to recede. Norden had suffered from nightmares for a time while recovering from his injuries, but nothing this intense or frightening.

Although the dream was fading rapidly, he could still hear the sound of alarms and the strident voice of the Captain ordering, “Eject the warp core, eject the warp core!”

His gut clenched and he hurried into the head. He collapsed before the toilet just as his stomach violently ejected the remnants of his meager supper. He gagged twice more, producing only dry-heaves before his mid-section finally relaxed.

He sat on the cool floor, waiting for the wave of nausea to subside before standing at the sink and splashing cold water on his face and rinsing the foul taste of bile from his mouth.

As he straightened and glanced into the mirror, his eyes widened in shock at what he saw.

The wall behind him was gone. So was his cabin. Instead, there was only blackness – an inky, featureless void that seemed to go on forever.

Norden tried to scream and . . .

* * *

Dan sat bolt upright in bed – his heart hammering and sweat pouring profusely from his body.

He blinked in terror, his body still shaking violently.

What just . . .

His stomach lurched and he raced to the head, just making it to the toilet to empty the contents of his stomach.

As the commode automatically dispatched the remains of his sandwich, he rose and went to the sink, splashing cold water in his face and rinsing the foul taste of bile from his mouth.

Another wave of terror washed over him. He kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut and gripped the edge of the sink so tightly his knuckles turned white.

No, no, no, no, he thought. This isn’t real.

Forcing himself to breathe deeply and slowly, Norden eased open one eye.

He saw his reflection in the mirror – pale and wet, but otherwise normal. More important, he saw the reflection of the wall, the door and his cabin beyond.

Dan sagged with relief. He began to giggle but clamped a hand over his mouth as the sound was jagged and unsteady.

Regaining control even as the memory of the nightmare faded, he moved back into the main room and sat at the desk.

“Computer, what time is it?”

“Ship’s time is 0352 hours. Stardate 53377.48”

“Thanks,” he said, unnecessarily. He laughed at himself for doing so, but at least the sound no longer had a hysterical quality to it.

He sat in the dim light, trying to recall the dream – a mostly futile effort. He vaguely recalled the order to eject the warp core. That was common enough to his nightmares following the destruction of the Horatio, but there was something different . . . a detail had changed.

Dan closed his eyes, trying not to remember the details – just to listen. There was only a slight echo of the dream left in his conscious memory. He tried not to think, just to allow his mind a chance to grasp the small thread.

His eyes flew open in sudden realization. The voice in his dream – it was different.

In all his previous dreams, Captain Tarkalian’s voice had invaded his sleep. But not this time.

In tonight’s nightmare, it had been the voice of Captain Poiroux ordering the warp core’s ejection.

* * *

Stardate 53377.6 (18 May 2376)
USS Kearsarge
En route to the Black Cluster

Fortified with several cups of coffee, Lt. Norden entered the briefing room just before 0800. Most of the senior officers were already present, including Captain Poiroux, who somehow managed to project an aura of boredom and annoyance simultaneously.

A Vulcan male with atypical blond hair nodded in greeting before returning his attention to a PADD. Dr. Jurnux sat across the table from the Vulcan and grinned broadly upon spotting Dan. Lt. Philo Hawser, a broad-shouldered Centauran with a shaved head and bushy eyebrows glowered at Norden. Dan had the feeling that the Chief Engineer did not like him or his mission.

The XO strode in, looking somewhat harried. He took a seat at the far end of the table, opposite the Captain. Dan choose a chair in the middle, by the Vulcan Ops officer.

An Andorian female entered last, favoring the gathered officers with a bright smile.

Poiroux glanced at the woman, but his expression did not change. Clearing his throat, he placed his elbows on the table and clasped meaty hands together.

“Okay, Lt. Norden – this is your show. Tell us what we need to know about this ‘project,’” ordered the Captain.

“Yes sir,” replied Dan, turning his attention to his PADD and trying to collect his thoughts. His head was still a bit muzzy, courtesy of sleep deprivation. “Computer, begin presentation of Project Athena.”

The large wall display came to life, displaying various views of the Kearsarge and graphic overlays of warp fields.

“The goal of this experiment is simple. To enable starships to traverse unstable areas of space such as the Black Cluster in a safe and efficient manner. As you know, the cluster was created by the collapse of several protostars, creating an area that absorbs energy and destabilizes warp fields. The upgrades to Kearsarge will allow the warp field generators to quickly adapt to these areas of instability, allowing the ship to ‘flex’ in subspace without losing the warp field entirely.”

Norden continued for several minutes. He stuck to the script he had been ordered to present, pausing to answer a few technical questions, before he ended his presentation.

“Are there any other questions?” he asked.

Lt. Sybok spoke. “Lt. Norden – eight years ago, two months and three days ago, the USS Vico attempted to traverse a similar black cluster in Sector 97. The Vico – a Miranda-class vessel similar to ours, was destroyed and the Enterprise was damaged when they attempted to investigate the fate of the ship. If these modifications do not work, what is to prevent us suffering a similar fate?”

Norden had anticipated this question. “The cluster that destroyed the Vico is the largest in the Alpha Quadrant and fully seven times more massive than the Black Cluster we will attempt to navigate. While it is possible that we could lose our warp field should the modifications fail, all computer models indicate that our hull would remain intact and we could move away under impulse power.”

“Computer models?” sneered Lt. Hawser. “You mean there have been no unmanned probes to test this out?”

“No,” admitted Norden, “It was determined that it would take the power of a full-size starship for the equipment to work properly. Probes were not an option.”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room as this sunk in. Norden thought his explanation sounded weak to his own ears.

“So why not take a full-size ship and run it via remote?” pressed Hawser, leaning forward. “Hell, it’s not hard to slave the navigation systems to another ship.”

Surprisingly, Sybok came to Norden’s rescue. “Because,” he began calmly, “the crew is part of the experiment. Our ability to react and make adjustments to the equipment or interpret sensor input is critical if these modifications are to become standard equipment for the fleet. Am I correct, Lt. Norden?”

“Yes, exactly right,” nodded Dan, relieved and appreciative of the Vulcan’s intercession.

Hawser was not convinced, however. “So we’re rats in a maze. If we succeed, we get a nice piece of cheese – or in our case, we come out of this alive?”

“That’s right,” growled Captain Poiroux. “And we will all do our damndest to make sure we do succeed.”

He glared around the table, ending the discussion. “I’m not crazy about this either, but we have our orders. I expect each department to be ready to proceed with this in 24 hours. If you’re not up to it, let me know and I’ll send you back to DS-3 on a shuttle.” He made eye contact with each of the assembled officers. All met his gaze, though the Chief Engineer managed to stare daggers at Norden before nodding curtly to the C.O.

“Then let’s get this done right the first time. Address your questions to Lt. Norden and your griping to me. Dismissed.”

* * *

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Dan had not intended to visit Sickbay while on this mission, but he dreaded the thought of another sleepless night hounded by bad dreams. The medical ward seemed somehow familiar, but then, the same design was common to hundreds of ships.

Dr. Jurnux seemed pleased to see him. “Ah, Lt. Norden – I hope Mr.Hawser wasn’t too rough on you in the meeting.”

Dan shook his head and smiled. “Not at all. If I were in his shoes, I’d have the same concerns.”

“Regardless, I thought you did an excellent job explaining the process, though I know about as much of Black Clusters as I do animal husbandry.”

“Thanks – I, uh, hope I didn’t catch you at a busy time.”

The Denobulan lifted an orange eyebrow and glanced around at the empty bio-beds. “I take it your visit to sickbay is not just a social call.”

“Bad dreams, Doc. I’ve had them since – well, since I was put out of action during the war. I was hoping you might be able to give me something to help me sleep.” He did not go into detail, avoiding the very strange nature of his most recent nightmare.

The CMO regarded Norden thoughtfully for a moment. “Let me do a quick work-up and see what I can do for you.”

Reluctantly, Lt. Norden submitted to a few minutes of Dr. Jurnux’s scanning, prodding and poking.

“You’re in good health, Mr. Norden, although I can tell you are under stress – no surprise considering the experiment you must oversee. As I’m sure counselors have told you, the nightmares are a normal response to emotional trauma and should fade in time. That being said . . .” He walked over to a medical replicator and inputted a series of commands. A small vial of capsules shimmered into existence. He held them out to Norden.

“It’s a concoction of herbs and natural ingredients from three planets – completely safe for Human use, non-habit forming, and quite effective. It has a tendency to suppress dreams, which should be a bonus feature for you. Take one about an hour before you go to bed. Come back to see me if you’re still having difficulty sleeping.”

Dan glanced at the vial with a degree of skepticism. “I figured you’d just give me a shot or something.”

“Nonesense. There’s nothing physically wrong with you, Lieutenant. I prefer not to administer sedatives to my patients unless absolutely necessary – even the mildest can have side effects.”

Norden forced a smile. “I’ll give them a try. Thanks, Doc.”

“Don’t mention it. Sleep well, Mr. Norden.”

* * *

The CMO’s concoction worked as advertised. Dan enjoyed sleep untroubled by dreams the next two nights.

On the third day our from Deep Space 3, the Kearsarge dropped out of warp.

“One half impulse,” ordered Captain Poiroux. “Maintain course. Ops, what do you get on sensors?”

“No other vessels in scanning range. Reading energy fluctuations ahead – range, 278 million kilometers.”

“Maximum magnification on viewscreen.”

The image shifted and wavered. What was initially a small, dark smudge amidst the stars became a massive area of swirling gasses against a field of utter darkness.

Once more, Dan felt an inexplicable sense of dread – his anxiety level rising almost to the level of panic. He swallowed hard at the beautiful/terrible sight on the screen.

It took a moment for him to realize that Captain Poiroux was speaking to him.

“Norden – quit gawking and get with the program!”

“Sorry, sir. You were saying?”

“I asked how close we’re to get before we try this hare-brained stunt.”

Glad for the chance to avert his gaze from the viewscreen (and the smoldering glare of Captain Poiroux) he turned to his console and entered a series of commands.

“Our first run should be at 10 million kilometers. We should make a warp-one burst across the event horizon of the Cluster, then run a diagnostic of our engines before moving in closer.”

“How close to you intend for us to get?”

“If each test goes well, we should attempt a run through the Cluster.”

The Captain grunted. “That’s what I was afraid of. Very well. Helm, take us to the 10 million klick point and hold station.”

“Aye, sir,” replied the Caitian helm officer.

Dan kept his focus on the engineering console. It wasn’t necessary for him to do so, but he wasn’t quite ready to face the intense darkness on the main viewscreen.

You’re nuts, Dan, you realize that, don’t you? It’s just a natural phenomenon created by collapsed protostars billions of years ago. There’s nothing to fear.

The internal pep-talk helped some. He forced himself to turn and face the viewscreen.

The Black Cluster did not seem quite as threatening, though Dan’s anxiety level was still high.

In short order, the Kearsarge arrived on station – ten million kilometers from the Cluster.

“All stop,” ordered Poiroux. He tapped his combadge. “Engineering, are you ready for phase one?”

“As ready as we ever will be,” replied Philo Hawser. “Warp core is running at 100%. Navigational deflectors are synchronized with the warp field generators. If Lt. Norden’s computer subroutines are running properly, we’re good to go when you say the word.”

“Stand by.” The Captain turned and lifted an eyebrow at Norden. “You heard the man. Well?”

Dan re-checked all the readouts at his station. Everything appeared to be operating smoothly. He gave Poiroux a nod. “We’re a go, sir.”

Captain Poiroux turned back to the viewscreen. “Helm, input course for phase one.”

“Course plotted and laid in, sir,” replied Lt. H’Raahn. The Caitians ears were laid back on his head – indicative of his own nervousness.

“Engage.”

Kearsarge, jumped to warp.

“Thirty seconds,” announced Norden, as he watched a stream of data flow across the display. “Warp field holding.”

The brief warp jump was smooth and uneventful. As Kearsarge dropped out of warp, Dan felt a wave of relief wash over him.

“All systems report as normal,” announced Lt. Sybok from Ops. “No reports of damage or injuries.”

“One down, four to go,” muttered Poiroux. “Helm, move us to five million klicks for phase two. Sybok, run system diagnostics. Norden, do the same with the engines.

The two officers complied and turned their attention to the stream of data collected from their first run. After an hour, the results were in.

“During our 30 second run, we encountered 1,642 energy anomalies. The Athena system worked flawlessly, adapting our warp field and preventing any subspace eddies,” reported Norden.

The Captain nodded. “In other words, so far – so good. What would have happened without the system?”

“We would have been forced to drop out of warp,” replied Sybok. “However, none of the energy bursts were severe enough in output or duration to have caused serious damage to the ship.”

Poiroux chewed on his ever-present toothpick. “So you’re saying we haven’t really done much yet?”

“It’s a good start,” allowed Norden, “but we haven’t really faced the heavy stuff.”

The Captain nodded. “I thought as much. Okay, prepare for phase two.”

Over the next few hours they proceeded with phase two and phase three, each time enjoying smooth warp jumps with no damage or malfunctions. For the first time, Norden actually felt optimistic about the test.

“On to phase four,” ordered Poiroux. Even the crusty Cajun was sounding chipper. “Helm, bring us to 500 thousand klicks and hold station.”

The Black Cluster now filled the viewscreen. But Norden’s exiliration over the positive results thus far dampened his sense of unease. He actually grinned as he checked the data-stream.

The ship rocked slightly. “Gravimetric shear,” announced Sybok. “Level four. Shields and structural integrity fields holding.”

“Now the fun really starts,” muttered Captain Poirou,. his brief display of good humor fading. “What about it, Mr. Norden? Ready to tempt the Devil again?”

“Yes sir.”

Poiroux chuckled. “That’s what I like about you, Lieutenant. You don’t mince words. Helm, stand by for my order to go to warp one.” He tapped his combadge.

“Bridge to Engineering.”

“Engineering, go ahead.”

“Ready for the fourth phase, Mr. Hawser?”

“Yes sir. Ready when you are.” Even the normally dour Lt. Hawser sounded upbeat.

“Good. We’re about to commence phase four. Bridge, out.”

Poiroux adjusted his frame in the command chair. “Helm – take us to warp one for thirty seconds.”

“Warp one, aye,” replied H’Raahn. He brought a hairy finger down on the control panel.

Kearsarge jumped to warp.

And all hell broke loose.

* * *

Klaxons sounded frantically while warning lights flashed from nearly every station.

The ship was not merely vibrating, she was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. Several of the bridge crew including Norden found themselves sprawled on the deck. The engines wailed like banshees, and the lighting on the bridge began to distort, leaving ghostly trails that put everything out of focus.

Over the din, Dan could hear the Captain shouting for the helmsman to bring the ship to a stop. But Lt. H’Raahn was either unable to hear or unable to comply. If anything, it seemed the ship was accelerating.

With a surge of strength fueled by adrenaline and fear, Norden clawed his way up from the deck and back into his seat at engineering. Sure enough, the power indicators were off the charts. The warp factor reading was . . .

His eyes widened in shock. “No,” thought Norden, “that’s not possible.”

The noise had grown so loud he could no longer understand the Captain, though it was apparent Poiroux was shouting at the top of his lungs. Kearsarge lurched violently to starboard, over-stressing the gravity coils and sending most of the bridge crew flying.

“Emergency . . . shut . . . down . . .” Dan could just make out the gasped words of the Captain. The increasing g-forces made speaking and breathing difficult.

Norden tried to focus on his panel but his vision was blurring. He finally called up the over-ride protocols and keyed in his command code.

But nothing happened. The over-ride failed. He turned back to Poiroux. The Captain saw the stricken look on Norden’s face and understood.

“Can’t . . . over-ride . . . failed . . .,” Dan gasped. The pressure on his chest was unbearable, making breathing almost impossible.

On the viewscreen, an explosion of light burst from a pinpoint in the middle of the darkness, twisting and morphing into impossible shapes and colors. Dan averted his gaze before the barage lest his senses become overwhelmed.

He wondered how the ship was holding together. Surely the structural integrity fields were already beyond the point of failure.

The cacophony increased to an impossible level, as if all the demons of all the hells were shrieking in chorus. Dan desperately tried to call up other sub-routines – anything to shut down the raging engines and slow this maddening ride. He wondered why no one in Engineering had shut down the mains? Perhaps they had tried and failed. Maybe they were all dead down there.

Darkness began to close in on the periphery of his vision as the g-forces crushed him. As though from a great distance, he heard Captain Poiroux give his final order:

“Eject . . . the . . . warp . . . core . . .”

The words from his dreams. They were the last words Lt. Norden heard before the darkness closed in.

All sensation of sound and motion stopped. The Starship Kearsarge ceased to exist.

Yet Lt. Daniel Norden was still alive and aware on some intangible plane of existence. He had the strange feeling that he was traveling without moving. The cacophony of noise had ceased as had the hellish shaking.

Dan felt a sense of peace settle over him – the darkness was warm and comforting, not cold and frightening. A part of him found this interesting.

From an infinite distance, a pinpoint of light appeared. It remained stationary for what could have been a nano-second or a thousand years. Dan did not know. Time, for the moment, had lost all meaning to him.

The light began to grow. Slowly, almost imperceptibly it expanded. He did not see the light as such (for he was no longer sure he had eyes or a body, for that matter) but knew it was there all the same.

Time passed (or he supposed it did) and the light began to push back the darkness with a cold glare that was painful (even though he doubted he could actually feel pain).

The silence was broken by a sound. Distant and indistinct at first, it slowly grew in volume. It was a voice.

His own voice. Inside himself. He heard it say . . .

“This is a very, very bad idea . . .”

* * *

Stardate 53376.7 (17 May 2376)
Deep Space 3

. . . a very, very bad idea to Norden’s way of thinking. Not that he’d had much choice in the matter. Still, serving as Mission Specialist for Project Athena beat sitting in an office on Earth or some starbase.

Lt. Norden picked up his clamshell case and cast another look through the viewport at the Kearsarge. It would probably be the last he would see of her exterior for several weeks – a thought assuaged by the fact that Kearsage was uglier than sin.

As he turned to make his way to the airlock leading to the ship, he felt a sudden sense of unease – a vague feeling of deja vu. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine and he suddenly had a strong urge to turn and walk away.

Yeah – that’s the ticket. Add desertion to your list of woes. Get your ass on the ship, Dan old boy.

He shook his head fractionally, angry at his momentary anxiety attack and walked briskly to the airlock.

* * *

The End . . . and The Beginning . . .

 

[CeJay]

This reads a little bit like a Stephen King mystery story. You know something is wrong and out of place here but you can't really put your finger on it and as you try to figure it out, the mystery draws you in more and more until you reach the ultimate (and depressing) conclusion.

I had an inkling of what was happening here thanks to the many hints you provided along the way but I was compleltey fascinated and couldn't stop reading.

Terrific story.

 

[Nerys Ghemor]

Ewwww, a temporal loop. Yikes. I wonder if that's how it felt to those people on the Bozeman. I hope someone will eventually rescue him!!!

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

CeJay - Thank you! Yes, there are some definite Stephen King influences here. If you are familiar with The Dark Tower series, you'll really get the "ending."

Nerys Ghemor - Correct on the temporal loop. Will they ever escape it? It took the Bozeman 90 years and the intervention of the Enterprise for that to happen, so the outlook is not good for Lt. Norden and the crew of the Kearsarge.

Thank you both for reading and leaving comments.

 

[Gibraltar]

Dear God, you've actually done it! You've created a ship and crew with worse luck than Gibraltar!

Great job with the eerie temporal causality loop. I have to admit that despite the clues, I didn't pick up on it until the very end.

You created some memorable characters in such a brief story, and one shudders to think of how repeated cycles through that loop will ultimately effect them, and whether they'll ever escape it.

Fantastic work!

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Dear God, you've actually done it! You've created a ship and crew with worse luck than Gibraltar!

The irony is that Kearsarge and her crew were lucky up until this story. They made it through the Dominion War with minor damage and few casualties. I suppose that Lt. Norden was their bag of 13 black cats hurled under a ladder to break a mirror.

Great job with the eerie temporal causality loop. I have to admit that despite the clues, I didn't pick up on it until the very end.

Thank you. I was trying to be subtle with the clues - I didn't want there to be a complete "WTF?" moment at the end of the story.

You created some memorable characters in such a brief story, and one shudders to think of how repeated cycles through that loop will ultimately effect them, and whether they'll ever escape it.

Fantastic work!

I'm gratified you liked the story. I fear that Kearsarge will be caught in the temporary loop for a very, very long time. Starfleet most likely will consider the mission a failure and declare the ship and crew lost.

Hey, they can't all have happy endings!

 

[jespah]

Egad that's a Groundhog Day of a story. Well done.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Egad that's a Groundhog Day of a story. Well done.

Heh. Starring Bill Murray as Lt. Daniel Norden . Not sure I would cast it that way, but I see your point. Thanks for reading and your kind comments!

 

[Sandoval]

An excellent piece of work that you should be rightly proud of Redshirt. Nicely set up, well-paced, interesting from beginning to end.

A story like this is a poster-child for how enjoyable and rewarding fanfic can be. Short, self-contained and readily accessible as opposed to (some of) the various fanfic 'sagas' that you can almost hear groaning under their own weight.

Easily the best challenge entry I've read here for a while, and easily the January winner without even reading any other entries.

Well done.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

An excellent piece of work that you should be rightly proud of Redshirt. Nicely set up, well-paced, interesting from beginning to end.

Thank you! Glad you like it.

A story like this is a poster-child for how enjoyable and rewarding fanfic can be. Short, self-contained and readily accessible as opposed to (some of) the various fanfic 'sagas' that you can almost hear groaning under their own weight.

I've been guilty of a few stories long on words and short on endings. Whlle I enjoy reading a well-written saga, I personally find them difficult to write, so I feel a great deal of satisfaction in completing a short-story.

Easily the best challenge entry I've read here for a while, and easily the January winner without even reading any other entries.

Well done.

I certainly appreciate the laurels, but don't count out the other entries. There are some excellent writers on this board. I'm looking forward to reading the other challenge entries.

 

[LordSarvain]

This was a really good story, pulled me right in and got me interested in the characters such that I felt bad for them at the end. Good job!

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Lord Sarvain - Thank you!

 

[admiralelm11]

Great work here, TLR. You should definitely post this over at TOT11F.

I thought the characters were well-written and the situation, though tragic, were well-defined. Keep up the great work.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Great work here, TLR. You should definitely post this over at TOT11F.

Thanks! Yeah, I'll post it at the 11th Fleet soon.

I thought the characters were well-written and the situation, though tragic, were well-defined. Keep up the great work.

I appreciate it! Thanks for reading it.

 

[TimmyWl]

It's a very good horror story - something akin to Dead of Night (1945) although adapted for Star Trek rather than Earth based story.

 

[TheLoneRedshirt]

Thank you. While I did not write it as a horror story, the events were certainly horrifying for Lt. Norden.

 

[Mistral]

An excellent entry, TLR. As always.