Wow! I love what you did with the Klingons. Very intriguing. And what a cliffhanger. Hopefully, we won't have to wait too long for the next installment.
Bluefin - Retro: "Here There Be Dragons"
- Thread starter TheLoneRedshirt
- Start date
Wow. Just wow. I don't even know what to say that won't come off as mere sycophantic drooling, but ..., well ... 
I've loved everything you've written so far, and have appreciated your versatility in adopting different writing styles. But, this takes the cake. Brilliant! As much as I truly love your original take on all these characters, I have to admit that I'm absolutely addicted to this "reimagined" version, from top to bottom. I love the experiment, and Akinola's reaction to the revelation. But, probably my absolute favorite "reimagining" so far is your take on the Klingons, and especially the explanation of the forehead ridges. Again, brilliant! And completely in keeping with what we already know of Klingon tradition. Yours is a much more creative explanation than that proposed by TPTB, and it would even be completely believable and consistent within the "canon" universe. Would that they had been this orignal.
Oh, and your last little cliffhanger here ....
Can 't wait to see where you take this.
I've loved everything you've written so far, and have appreciated your versatility in adopting different writing styles. But, this takes the cake. Brilliant! As much as I truly love your original take on all these characters, I have to admit that I'm absolutely addicted to this "reimagined" version, from top to bottom. I love the experiment, and Akinola's reaction to the revelation. But, probably my absolute favorite "reimagining" so far is your take on the Klingons, and especially the explanation of the forehead ridges. Again, brilliant! And completely in keeping with what we already know of Klingon tradition. Yours is a much more creative explanation than that proposed by TPTB, and it would even be completely believable and consistent within the "canon" universe. Would that they had been this orignal.
Oh, and your last little cliffhanger here ....
Can 't wait to see where you take this.
Oh boy...well the right guy's on the scene--Gralt'll show that alien a bit of that Brooklyn moxie. Your variation on the "Klingonese" is also very well done--a bit of Ford mixed in with your own unique twist. And what could have put Castille in the state he's in...
Glad you all are enjoying the story! I appreciate all of your comments. 
A cigar to David for noticing the John M. Ford influence on the Klingonese! I thought his ST book, The Final Reflection, was one of the best works on Klingon culture (even though it went counter to canonical wisdom.) I borrowed his intellectual, noble approach to the Klingons (along with the longer names and the Thought-Admiral
) but added back in a mix of warrior and the cold war.
I never liked the official explanation for the forehead ridges. Seriously, would the proud Klingons try to improve their stock with human genes, no matter how augmented? I think not. My idea came from some primitive tribes here on Earth that kept trophies from their enemies - heads, bones, etc. and sometimes would use them as personal jewelry. Take that a step further with a bit of ritualistic self-mutilation and voila! Head ridges!
Mistral - good guess on the Gorn. Wrong guess, but a good one! Let's just say these aliens are really alien!
A cigar to David for noticing the John M. Ford influence on the Klingonese! I thought his ST book, The Final Reflection, was one of the best works on Klingon culture (even though it went counter to canonical wisdom.) I borrowed his intellectual, noble approach to the Klingons (along with the longer names and the Thought-Admiral
) but added back in a mix of warrior and the cold war. I never liked the official explanation for the forehead ridges. Seriously, would the proud Klingons try to improve their stock with human genes, no matter how augmented? I think not. My idea came from some primitive tribes here on Earth that kept trophies from their enemies - heads, bones, etc. and sometimes would use them as personal jewelry. Take that a step further with a bit of ritualistic self-mutilation and voila! Head ridges!
Mistral - good guess on the Gorn. Wrong guess, but a good one!
Let's just say these aliens are really alien!
Chapter Eight
24 October 2376
0151 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Bridge
As Akinola moved back to his command chair, the cutter shuddered suddenly and the power on the Bluefin failed, sending the bridge into darkness.
"Emergency power!" barked Akinola. Almost immediately, the lights on the bridge flickered back on and data comm screens came back to life as the computer rebooted. At almost the same instance, the overhead speaker crackled to life.
A harsh burst of static caused the bridge crew to wince. An un-earthly shriek reverberated from the speaker followed by an all too human scream of pain and terror, muffled curses, and the rapid report of a pulse weapon.
Then, silence.
* * *
24 October 2376
0151 Galactic Mean Time
Science/Exploration Vessel Endurance SEV 12
CPO Gralt brought his weapon up quickly, but the creature was faster. With an ear-splitting shriek, it lept forward toward Jonesey, who let loose a scream of pain and fear as sharp talons ripped through the fabric of his space suit and into the soft flesh beneath.
Gralt pulled the trigger of the Durham 80, pumping a dozen charged slugs into the monster. The black and green alien was thrown back by the impact of the initial pulse rounds. It swung its ungainly head toward Gralt, revealing the razor-sharp teeth and tentacle like appendages that writhed in it gaping mouth like serpents. Gralt put the last of his rounds into that horrible maw, blowing out the back of the creature's head. It slumped heavily to the deck, thick, green fluid flowed from the wounds, sizzling and popping on the deck. The talons of the dead alien continued to spasm.
Chief Gralt remained transfixed for several moments, still methodically squeezing the gun's trigger, though it was empty. Someone was uttering a string of curses somewhere and he suddenly realized they were coming from his own mouth.
He snapped out of his fugue-state and turned toward the grievously wounded crewman. Jonesey was lying in a spreading pool of blood, his eyes open and fixed, his abdomen laid open. The Chief quickly dropped to his knees, trying desperately to staunch the flow of blood with his gloved hands.
"Corpsman!" Gralt shouted over his helmet radio. "I need a goddam corpsman, NOW!"
* * *
24 October 2376
0154 Galactic Mean Time
Klingonese Imperial Navy Frigate Qo'rlok
The trimaran hulled frigate shook violently, then all of the power failed. The automatic lanterns came on, casting a pale, yellow light over the bridge.
"Status!" barked Captain Klorn, now out of his seat staring through the forward view ports.
"We just passed through some sort of energy field," announced Lt. Grel, a handsome 'Klin female. "Auxiliary systems are coming on line now."
And so they did. The lights on the bridge returned to normal levels and the various control screens returned to life.
"What was that?" pressed the Captain. "An energy weapon of some kind?"
Grel studied the readout at her station. "Unlikely. The effect was wide-spread, more like a rapidly expanding sphere of intense energy rather than a focused beam. I will attempt to analyze it."
"Source?"
She turned to face him. "It emanated from those ships."
Klorn turned to Patron-Major Klejis. "It would seem that we were the target of a hostile act, wouldn't you agree, Klejis?"
Klejis was tight-lipped. "We don't know what that was, Captain. But this certainly isn't the time to be precipitous."
Klorn cocked his head and raised a bushy eyebrow. "Haven't you heard the Earther expression, Klejis? 'Fortune favors the bold!'" He returned to his command chair. "Action stations! Increase speed to point seven-five and bring us to within 1000 kelicams of those ships. Have the shuttle readied for launch. Raise shields, but do not arm disruptors unless I give the command." He leaned forward in his chair, eyes glittering. "It's time we offered our . . . assistance and learn more of this strange vessel!"
* * *
24 October 2376
0151 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Infirmary
Strauss was dozing in her chair by Castille's hospital bed, when the harsh vibration in the hull startled her awake. The lights in the infirmary went out, and emergency beacons came on almost immeditately.
Castille's eyes flew open. His body suddenly spasmed, causing his back to arch. His hands drew up like claws and the tendons in his neck stood out like cords.
"Doctor Baxter!" shouted Strauss as she lept out of the chair to restrain Castille.
"O.C! O.C! It's Inga! Can you hear me?" she called to him, desperation and fear in her voice.
Castille continued to convulse as Dr. Baxter entered the cubicle, an injection at the ready. Before Baxter could administer it, Castille collapsed on the bed like a rag doll. The ship's surgeon glanced at the monitors, operating on emergency power and blanched.
"He's flat-lined! Delta!," he shouted, "bring the crash cart - stat!" He began CPR on Castille.
Ensign Simms was in the cubicle with the resuscitator almost before Baxter completed his sentence. Baxter placed an oxygen mask over Castille's face and took two small paddles from the cart which he placed over the unconscious man's sternum and along his side.
"Stand clear!" he ordered as he pressed the activator stud.
An electric pop startled Strauss who had moved to the side, watching in silent horror. The display over his bed jumped, then returned to a wavering flat line.
Baxter made a small adjustment to the paddles. "Clear!" he called and repeated the effort, the jolt of electricity causing Castille to spasm just as he had done moments earlier.
"No conversion. Delta! - 10 cc Cordrazine!" Simms handed the doctor a long, thick syringe. Baxter popped the cover off of a very long needle, pressed the plunger slightly until clear beads flowed from the needle, then plunged it into Castille's chest.
Baxter was about to apply the paddles again when Castille's eyes flew open once more. He sat bolt upright in the bed and screamed.
* * *
24 October 2376
0151 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Bridge
As Akinola moved back to his command chair, the cutter shuddered suddenly and the power on the Bluefin failed, sending the bridge into darkness.
"Emergency power!" barked Akinola. Almost immediately, the lights on the bridge flickered back on and data comm screens came back to life as the computer rebooted. At almost the same instance, the overhead speaker crackled to life.
A harsh burst of static caused the bridge crew to wince. An un-earthly shriek reverberated from the speaker followed by an all too human scream of pain and terror, muffled curses, and the rapid report of a pulse weapon.
Then, silence.
* * *
24 October 2376
0151 Galactic Mean Time
Science/Exploration Vessel Endurance SEV 12
CPO Gralt brought his weapon up quickly, but the creature was faster. With an ear-splitting shriek, it lept forward toward Jonesey, who let loose a scream of pain and fear as sharp talons ripped through the fabric of his space suit and into the soft flesh beneath.
Gralt pulled the trigger of the Durham 80, pumping a dozen charged slugs into the monster. The black and green alien was thrown back by the impact of the initial pulse rounds. It swung its ungainly head toward Gralt, revealing the razor-sharp teeth and tentacle like appendages that writhed in it gaping mouth like serpents. Gralt put the last of his rounds into that horrible maw, blowing out the back of the creature's head. It slumped heavily to the deck, thick, green fluid flowed from the wounds, sizzling and popping on the deck. The talons of the dead alien continued to spasm.
Chief Gralt remained transfixed for several moments, still methodically squeezing the gun's trigger, though it was empty. Someone was uttering a string of curses somewhere and he suddenly realized they were coming from his own mouth.
He snapped out of his fugue-state and turned toward the grievously wounded crewman. Jonesey was lying in a spreading pool of blood, his eyes open and fixed, his abdomen laid open. The Chief quickly dropped to his knees, trying desperately to staunch the flow of blood with his gloved hands.
"Corpsman!" Gralt shouted over his helmet radio. "I need a goddam corpsman, NOW!"
* * *
24 October 2376
0154 Galactic Mean Time
Klingonese Imperial Navy Frigate Qo'rlok
The trimaran hulled frigate shook violently, then all of the power failed. The automatic lanterns came on, casting a pale, yellow light over the bridge.
"Status!" barked Captain Klorn, now out of his seat staring through the forward view ports.
"We just passed through some sort of energy field," announced Lt. Grel, a handsome 'Klin female. "Auxiliary systems are coming on line now."
And so they did. The lights on the bridge returned to normal levels and the various control screens returned to life.
"What was that?" pressed the Captain. "An energy weapon of some kind?"
Grel studied the readout at her station. "Unlikely. The effect was wide-spread, more like a rapidly expanding sphere of intense energy rather than a focused beam. I will attempt to analyze it."
"Source?"
She turned to face him. "It emanated from those ships."
Klorn turned to Patron-Major Klejis. "It would seem that we were the target of a hostile act, wouldn't you agree, Klejis?"
Klejis was tight-lipped. "We don't know what that was, Captain. But this certainly isn't the time to be precipitous."
Klorn cocked his head and raised a bushy eyebrow. "Haven't you heard the Earther expression, Klejis? 'Fortune favors the bold!'" He returned to his command chair. "Action stations! Increase speed to point seven-five and bring us to within 1000 kelicams of those ships. Have the shuttle readied for launch. Raise shields, but do not arm disruptors unless I give the command." He leaned forward in his chair, eyes glittering. "It's time we offered our . . . assistance and learn more of this strange vessel!"
* * *
24 October 2376
0151 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Infirmary
Strauss was dozing in her chair by Castille's hospital bed, when the harsh vibration in the hull startled her awake. The lights in the infirmary went out, and emergency beacons came on almost immeditately.
Castille's eyes flew open. His body suddenly spasmed, causing his back to arch. His hands drew up like claws and the tendons in his neck stood out like cords.
"Doctor Baxter!" shouted Strauss as she lept out of the chair to restrain Castille.
"O.C! O.C! It's Inga! Can you hear me?" she called to him, desperation and fear in her voice.
Castille continued to convulse as Dr. Baxter entered the cubicle, an injection at the ready. Before Baxter could administer it, Castille collapsed on the bed like a rag doll. The ship's surgeon glanced at the monitors, operating on emergency power and blanched.
"He's flat-lined! Delta!," he shouted, "bring the crash cart - stat!" He began CPR on Castille.
Ensign Simms was in the cubicle with the resuscitator almost before Baxter completed his sentence. Baxter placed an oxygen mask over Castille's face and took two small paddles from the cart which he placed over the unconscious man's sternum and along his side.
"Stand clear!" he ordered as he pressed the activator stud.
An electric pop startled Strauss who had moved to the side, watching in silent horror. The display over his bed jumped, then returned to a wavering flat line.
Baxter made a small adjustment to the paddles. "Clear!" he called and repeated the effort, the jolt of electricity causing Castille to spasm just as he had done moments earlier.
"No conversion. Delta! - 10 cc Cordrazine!" Simms handed the doctor a long, thick syringe. Baxter popped the cover off of a very long needle, pressed the plunger slightly until clear beads flowed from the needle, then plunged it into Castille's chest.
Baxter was about to apply the paddles again when Castille's eyes flew open once more. He sat bolt upright in the bed and screamed.
* * *
Mistral - Yep, Jonesey is my small homage to Hunt for Red October - the book, not the movie. As to the creature, I didn't have any particular movie monster in mind. The "Bug" from MIB is just as good as any. I was afraid some might think it was the alien from Alien. I suppose it could be, but there's no cross-over story here.
Finally got a chance to catch up on this. I liked this a lot from the very beginning. You master the far-out retro style just as well as everything else you've done with this Border Service saga.
The Klingons here are pretty cool, digusting, but cool. I mean did you actually think about this? Putting bones under your forhead? And where do you get the extra skin you'd need? Man, that's just gross, and totally Klingon.
And then you got these transporters. People and space monsters just appearing out of thin air? That's a crazy idea if I ever heard one.
Awesome job, keep on it!
The Klingons here are pretty cool, digusting, but cool. I mean did you actually think about this? Putting bones under your forhead? And where do you get the extra skin you'd need? Man, that's just gross, and totally Klingon.
And then you got these transporters. People and space monsters just appearing out of thin air? That's a crazy idea if I ever heard one.
Awesome job, keep on it!
Oh yes, I thought about it! I see the warrior caste as almost a cult among the Klingons. They're all about overcoming pain, being tough, biting the heads off of cute woodland creatures, grossing out friends and neighbors, etc. But really - I see kids in the mall all the time with weirder stuff poked through their skin. (Ouch!) It's enough to gross out a Klingon!
Glad you like the story!
Chapter Nine
24 October 2376
0156 Galactic Mean Time
Klingonese Imperial Navy Frigate Qo'rlok
"Open a channel to the Earther vessel," ordered Captain Klorn.
Lt. Grel adjusted the controls at her station, a frown forming on her face. "The energy field is limiting the range of our transmission, Captain. We will need to get closer before we can communicate with their ship."
"Are you saying we are no longer able to communicate with Qo'nos?" queried Patron-Major Klejis, a note of concern in his voice.
"That is correct, sir," said Grel.
"What's wrong, Klejis?" asked Klorn, a scornful note in his voice, "afraid you can't report what I had for dinner to the council?"
"Certainly not!" huffed the political officer. "My concern is that we are cut off from the home world in case we need assistance."
Klorn bared his teeth, filed to sharp points. "Your sweat reeks of fear, Patron Major. Perhaps you should retire to your quarters and leave this matter to the warriors."
To his credit, Klejis did not flinch under Klorn's feral gaze. "My station is here, Lord Klorn. And my duty is to protect the interests of the Empire - which includes this ship!"
Klorn's eyes narrowed and he thrust a finger against Klejis' chest. "This is my ship, Klejis! My crew, my mission, my responsibility. Do not forget that!" The Captain stood, drawing his command cloak around his shoulders. "Helm, maintain course toward the Earther ships. Lt. Grel, continue your attempts to contact them. I will be in my quarters. He departed the bridge without further acknowledgment of the political officer.
Klejis could feel his liver twist in anger. We shall see whose ship this is, Captain! he thought.
* * *
24 October 2376
0212 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Bridge
Lt. Bane nodded, then spoke over the handset. "Thanks, Delta. Please keep us updated." He hung up the handset and turned to Captain Akinola, who was standing with a pale but composed CPO Gralt. "Doc has Jonesey in surgery, Skipper. He's still alive but he's in bad shape."
Gralt, still wearing his orange space suit, shook his head morosely. "Frak me, Skipper - that thing - from the pit of Hell it wuz - moved so frakkin' fast . . ." Tears welled up in the crusty Chief's eyes, "I couldn't get a shot off in time to . . ." His voice trailed off.
Akinola squeezed the shoulder of the shorter man. "It wasn't your fault, Chief. You acted quickly and got him back here." He peered at the grizzled engineer. "Chief, I need you to focus on what happened before that . . . thing showed up."
Gralt knit his bushy eyebrows in thought. "The lights in the chamber got brighter - like an energy surge, maybe. I could hear it power up. But no one was near any of the controls, Skipper - I gave 'em strict orders about that! 'Touch nothin!' I said. Anyway, the sound and lights kept buildin' up - the next thing I know, that nightmare just materialized in the central chamber."
"So this - transporter - it just came on by itself?"
"That's the truth, Skipper. And the scary thing . . ."
"What's that Chief?"
"I ain't got a clue how to shut it off!"
* * *
24 October 2376
0215 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Infirmary
Ensign Delta Simms, RN, administered a tri-ox hypo to Dr. Castille's IV port. Lt. Struass stood by the bed of her ex-husband, a worried expression on her face. Simms favored her with an encouraging smile.
"His vitals are stable and his EEG is back to normal. I expect he'll be coming around shortly," Simms said.
As if on cue, Octavius Castille began to stir and his eyelids fluttered open. He squinted up at the two women, trying to focus against the bright, overhead light.
"Inga?" he croaked.
Strauss smiled. "Hey! Welcome to the world of the living."
Castille tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness dropped him back onto his pillow.
"Whoa, now!" said Simms. "Take it easy there - you've been through quite an ordeal."
Castille frowned in puzzlement. "Where am I?" His speech was slow and slurred.
Strauss leaned forward, hands on the bedrail. "You're on the border cutter, Bluefin. We're docked to the Endurance." She paused, hesitating. "O.C. - can you tell me what happened? What were you doing on that ship?"
Castille's face contorted, whether in pain or emotion, Strauss couldn't tell.
"Can't . . . remember much. We were testing the MST . . . There was a power surge - Dr. Lancaster tried to shut it down . . ." Castille was shaking his head, beads of perspiration formed on his head. Delta Simms frowned as Castille's pulse and respiration began to increase markedly.
"That's enough for now," Simms warned. "He needs to rest before you ask any more questions."
Strauss gave Simms a meaningful look. "We may not have that luxury, Ensign." She jerked a thumb toward the surgical suite. "The device on that ship is still running and your crewman is the latest victim. Dr. Castille is the only one who knows how we might shut it down!"
* * *
24 October 2376
0220 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Bridge
Akinola felt the alluring arms of Morpheus tempt him with sleep. He had been awake for nearly 24 hours and the surge of adrenaline and caffeine was beginning to fade. He stepped into the small head adjacent to the bridge and splashed cold water onto his face. As he looked up from the sink, he caught his reflection in the mirror. His dark, weathered face appeared drawn and haggard. His eyes were bloodshot and dark circles draped below them.
Can't rest now, old man. Not with a Klingonese frigate headed our way and a god-damn disaster in the making on the Endurance, he thought. He toweled off his face and hands and stepped back onto the bridge.
"Mr. Bane, any change with our Klingonese friends?"
Bane looked up from the tactical plotter and shook his head. The young Australian still looked fresh and rested. Youth is wasted on the young, thought Akinola.
"No sir, after that last speed increase she's held steady. She ought to arrive in about ten minutes. She's running shields up but weapons are cold."
Akinola pulled his pipe out of his jacket pocket. His mouth already tasted like old socks, but the tobacco might help keep him awake. "Sensible," he said, drawing on the stem as he held the match to the bowl. "It's what I'd do if the situation were reversed."
"We've received some static bursts over the receiver. I think they're trying to hail us, but with all of the interference . . ." Bane shrugged.
"They'll keep trying, no doubt. They're a curious bunch - I'll give them that. Are all of our people off the Endurance?"
"Yes sir. Chief Brin reported all on board and accounted for."
"Very well." He settled into his command chair. "Retract the docking ring and prepare to maneuver away from the Endurance. I want us between it and that Predator. Raise our shields when we're away, Mr. Bane."
"Aye, sir."
"Might as well welcome our guests," muttered Akinola as he blew out a cloud of blue smoke.
* * *
24 October 2376
0224 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Infirmary
Dr. Baxter sighed in frustration and sadness. He pulled the surgical mask down from his face and looked over at Corpsman Rice.
"Mark time of death, please," said Baxter, quietly.
"0223 hours," said Rice, somberly.
"Very well. Log it and get Jonesey into the cooler." He pulled off the surgical smock and tossed it into a disposal chute as he exited the surgical suite. He saw Ensign Simms across the ward and shook his head when she looked his way. Her face fell in sorrow and she walked over to Baxter.
"I couldn't get the bleeding under control," he said, regret and frustration evident in his voice. "That creature's claws contained some sort of toxic enzyme that breaks down tissue. Everytime I'd seal a bleeder, another would let go." He sighed and sat on a metal stool. For a moment, he looked far older than his 70 years. Simms rubbed his shoulder affectionately.
"I'm sorry, doctor. You did all you could do."
Baxter nodded absently, his mind elsewhere. "Yeah, sure."
"Dr. Castille has awakened," she said, attempting to change the subject.
Baxter grunted. "Well, thank heavens for small favors!" He stood and stretched, his back popping audibly. "I'm going to grab something to eat. Can I bring you back anything?"
She smiled and shook her head. "No sir, I'm fine. Why don't you try to get some sleep. You look all in."
Baxter favored her with a weary smile. "Bucking for my job, Delta? I'm supposed to be the diagnostician."
"I don't need an M.D. to see that you're exhausted," she pointed out, gently but firmly.
Baxter waved a hand in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, first food, then sleep. Call me if Castille head's south again."
"You can count on it!"
* * *
Strauss peeked around the curtains surrounding Castille's bed. Simms was occupied with Dr. Baxter for the moment. She turned back to Castille whose eyes were again closed.
"O.C.," she whispered. "Wake up! I've got to know something."
Castille rubbed his tongue over his dry lips. He spoke without opening his eyes. "Um. Inga - let me sleep. Tired."
"Sure, sure, in just a minute. But tell me one thing - how did you power the MST? The last report I read, the fusion reactors weren't sufficient."
"No. No, fusion reactors . . . too weak. Needed more power to sustain the matrix. Lancaster and I . . . developed a power source - Project Eclipse. Seemed to be the answer . . ."
Inga frowned. "Project Eclipse? O.C., I'm not familiar with that project."
At first, Inga thought Castille had drifted off to sleep, for he did not answer at first. Finally, he spoke again. "Project Eclipse . . . we isolated enough . . . dark matter . . . created an artificial singularity . . ."
Inga felt a chill run through her body. An artificial singularity! It shouldn't be, couldn't be possible - and yet, the evidence was clear. She looked at Castille who had indeed drifted off to sleep, a look of horror on her face.
"My God, O.C. - what have you done!?"
* * *
24 October 2376
0156 Galactic Mean Time
Klingonese Imperial Navy Frigate Qo'rlok
"Open a channel to the Earther vessel," ordered Captain Klorn.
Lt. Grel adjusted the controls at her station, a frown forming on her face. "The energy field is limiting the range of our transmission, Captain. We will need to get closer before we can communicate with their ship."
"Are you saying we are no longer able to communicate with Qo'nos?" queried Patron-Major Klejis, a note of concern in his voice.
"That is correct, sir," said Grel.
"What's wrong, Klejis?" asked Klorn, a scornful note in his voice, "afraid you can't report what I had for dinner to the council?"
"Certainly not!" huffed the political officer. "My concern is that we are cut off from the home world in case we need assistance."
Klorn bared his teeth, filed to sharp points. "Your sweat reeks of fear, Patron Major. Perhaps you should retire to your quarters and leave this matter to the warriors."
To his credit, Klejis did not flinch under Klorn's feral gaze. "My station is here, Lord Klorn. And my duty is to protect the interests of the Empire - which includes this ship!"
Klorn's eyes narrowed and he thrust a finger against Klejis' chest. "This is my ship, Klejis! My crew, my mission, my responsibility. Do not forget that!" The Captain stood, drawing his command cloak around his shoulders. "Helm, maintain course toward the Earther ships. Lt. Grel, continue your attempts to contact them. I will be in my quarters. He departed the bridge without further acknowledgment of the political officer.
Klejis could feel his liver twist in anger. We shall see whose ship this is, Captain! he thought.
* * *
24 October 2376
0212 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Bridge
Lt. Bane nodded, then spoke over the handset. "Thanks, Delta. Please keep us updated." He hung up the handset and turned to Captain Akinola, who was standing with a pale but composed CPO Gralt. "Doc has Jonesey in surgery, Skipper. He's still alive but he's in bad shape."
Gralt, still wearing his orange space suit, shook his head morosely. "Frak me, Skipper - that thing - from the pit of Hell it wuz - moved so frakkin' fast . . ." Tears welled up in the crusty Chief's eyes, "I couldn't get a shot off in time to . . ." His voice trailed off.
Akinola squeezed the shoulder of the shorter man. "It wasn't your fault, Chief. You acted quickly and got him back here." He peered at the grizzled engineer. "Chief, I need you to focus on what happened before that . . . thing showed up."
Gralt knit his bushy eyebrows in thought. "The lights in the chamber got brighter - like an energy surge, maybe. I could hear it power up. But no one was near any of the controls, Skipper - I gave 'em strict orders about that! 'Touch nothin!' I said. Anyway, the sound and lights kept buildin' up - the next thing I know, that nightmare just materialized in the central chamber."
"So this - transporter - it just came on by itself?"
"That's the truth, Skipper. And the scary thing . . ."
"What's that Chief?"
"I ain't got a clue how to shut it off!"
* * *
24 October 2376
0215 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Infirmary
Ensign Delta Simms, RN, administered a tri-ox hypo to Dr. Castille's IV port. Lt. Struass stood by the bed of her ex-husband, a worried expression on her face. Simms favored her with an encouraging smile.
"His vitals are stable and his EEG is back to normal. I expect he'll be coming around shortly," Simms said.
As if on cue, Octavius Castille began to stir and his eyelids fluttered open. He squinted up at the two women, trying to focus against the bright, overhead light.
"Inga?" he croaked.
Strauss smiled. "Hey! Welcome to the world of the living."
Castille tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness dropped him back onto his pillow.
"Whoa, now!" said Simms. "Take it easy there - you've been through quite an ordeal."
Castille frowned in puzzlement. "Where am I?" His speech was slow and slurred.
Strauss leaned forward, hands on the bedrail. "You're on the border cutter, Bluefin. We're docked to the Endurance." She paused, hesitating. "O.C. - can you tell me what happened? What were you doing on that ship?"
Castille's face contorted, whether in pain or emotion, Strauss couldn't tell.
"Can't . . . remember much. We were testing the MST . . . There was a power surge - Dr. Lancaster tried to shut it down . . ." Castille was shaking his head, beads of perspiration formed on his head. Delta Simms frowned as Castille's pulse and respiration began to increase markedly.
"That's enough for now," Simms warned. "He needs to rest before you ask any more questions."
Strauss gave Simms a meaningful look. "We may not have that luxury, Ensign." She jerked a thumb toward the surgical suite. "The device on that ship is still running and your crewman is the latest victim. Dr. Castille is the only one who knows how we might shut it down!"
* * *
24 October 2376
0220 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Bridge
Akinola felt the alluring arms of Morpheus tempt him with sleep. He had been awake for nearly 24 hours and the surge of adrenaline and caffeine was beginning to fade. He stepped into the small head adjacent to the bridge and splashed cold water onto his face. As he looked up from the sink, he caught his reflection in the mirror. His dark, weathered face appeared drawn and haggard. His eyes were bloodshot and dark circles draped below them.
Can't rest now, old man. Not with a Klingonese frigate headed our way and a god-damn disaster in the making on the Endurance, he thought. He toweled off his face and hands and stepped back onto the bridge.
"Mr. Bane, any change with our Klingonese friends?"
Bane looked up from the tactical plotter and shook his head. The young Australian still looked fresh and rested. Youth is wasted on the young, thought Akinola.
"No sir, after that last speed increase she's held steady. She ought to arrive in about ten minutes. She's running shields up but weapons are cold."
Akinola pulled his pipe out of his jacket pocket. His mouth already tasted like old socks, but the tobacco might help keep him awake. "Sensible," he said, drawing on the stem as he held the match to the bowl. "It's what I'd do if the situation were reversed."
"We've received some static bursts over the receiver. I think they're trying to hail us, but with all of the interference . . ." Bane shrugged.
"They'll keep trying, no doubt. They're a curious bunch - I'll give them that. Are all of our people off the Endurance?"
"Yes sir. Chief Brin reported all on board and accounted for."
"Very well." He settled into his command chair. "Retract the docking ring and prepare to maneuver away from the Endurance. I want us between it and that Predator. Raise our shields when we're away, Mr. Bane."
"Aye, sir."
"Might as well welcome our guests," muttered Akinola as he blew out a cloud of blue smoke.
* * *
24 October 2376
0224 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Infirmary
Dr. Baxter sighed in frustration and sadness. He pulled the surgical mask down from his face and looked over at Corpsman Rice.
"Mark time of death, please," said Baxter, quietly.
"0223 hours," said Rice, somberly.
"Very well. Log it and get Jonesey into the cooler." He pulled off the surgical smock and tossed it into a disposal chute as he exited the surgical suite. He saw Ensign Simms across the ward and shook his head when she looked his way. Her face fell in sorrow and she walked over to Baxter.
"I couldn't get the bleeding under control," he said, regret and frustration evident in his voice. "That creature's claws contained some sort of toxic enzyme that breaks down tissue. Everytime I'd seal a bleeder, another would let go." He sighed and sat on a metal stool. For a moment, he looked far older than his 70 years. Simms rubbed his shoulder affectionately.
"I'm sorry, doctor. You did all you could do."
Baxter nodded absently, his mind elsewhere. "Yeah, sure."
"Dr. Castille has awakened," she said, attempting to change the subject.
Baxter grunted. "Well, thank heavens for small favors!" He stood and stretched, his back popping audibly. "I'm going to grab something to eat. Can I bring you back anything?"
She smiled and shook her head. "No sir, I'm fine. Why don't you try to get some sleep. You look all in."
Baxter favored her with a weary smile. "Bucking for my job, Delta? I'm supposed to be the diagnostician."
"I don't need an M.D. to see that you're exhausted," she pointed out, gently but firmly.
Baxter waved a hand in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, first food, then sleep. Call me if Castille head's south again."
"You can count on it!"
* * *
Strauss peeked around the curtains surrounding Castille's bed. Simms was occupied with Dr. Baxter for the moment. She turned back to Castille whose eyes were again closed.
"O.C.," she whispered. "Wake up! I've got to know something."
Castille rubbed his tongue over his dry lips. He spoke without opening his eyes. "Um. Inga - let me sleep. Tired."
"Sure, sure, in just a minute. But tell me one thing - how did you power the MST? The last report I read, the fusion reactors weren't sufficient."
"No. No, fusion reactors . . . too weak. Needed more power to sustain the matrix. Lancaster and I . . . developed a power source - Project Eclipse. Seemed to be the answer . . ."
Inga frowned. "Project Eclipse? O.C., I'm not familiar with that project."
At first, Inga thought Castille had drifted off to sleep, for he did not answer at first. Finally, he spoke again. "Project Eclipse . . . we isolated enough . . . dark matter . . . created an artificial singularity . . ."
Inga felt a chill run through her body. An artificial singularity! It shouldn't be, couldn't be possible - and yet, the evidence was clear. She looked at Castille who had indeed drifted off to sleep, a look of horror on her face.
"My God, O.C. - what have you done!?"
* * *
This story just continues to get better. As Mistral points out, your portrayal of the Klingonese give a nice Cold War feel to this story which is in perfect keeping with the 50s pulp style.
Re: Bluefin - Retro: "Here There Be Dragons"
It's been a year since my last installment of Bluefin - Retro: "Here There Be Dragons." I've decided to revisit this story (now that I've figured out where I'm going with it). If this is your first visit to this tale, I strongly recommend you read the introduction. This story is not set in the United Trek universe. For that matter, it really doesn't fit into any established ST "reality."
I should post the next chapter within a few days. Hope you like it!
TLR
It's been a year since my last installment of Bluefin - Retro: "Here There Be Dragons." I've decided to revisit this story (now that I've figured out where I'm going with it). If this is your first visit to this tale, I strongly recommend you read the introduction. This story is not set in the United Trek universe. For that matter, it really doesn't fit into any established ST "reality."
I should post the next chapter within a few days. Hope you like it!
TLR
Re: Bluefin - Retro: "Here There Be Dragons"
Cool. I was wondering if you would ever come back to this story.
Cool. I was wondering if you would ever come back to this story.
Re: Bluefin - Retro: "Here There Be Dragons"
Hadn't noticed the year part of the posting dates. I've just read all of it so far - I love the 50s sci-fi feel to it. And the machines and the monsters reminds me of Half Life which is a little worrying for your characters...
Can't wait to read more.
Hadn't noticed the year part of the posting dates. I've just read all of it so far - I love the 50s sci-fi feel to it. And the machines and the monsters reminds me of Half Life which is a little worrying for your characters...
Can't wait to read more.
Re: Bluefin - Retro: "Here There Be Dragons"
This is kinda freaky. Really. I was literaly just thinking about this story yesterday. I cannot possibly express how excited I am that you're reviving this project. Seriously. I need to go get some popcorn to prepare.
This is kinda freaky. Really. I was literaly just thinking about this story yesterday. I cannot possibly express how excited I am that you're reviving this project. Seriously. I need to go get some popcorn to prepare.
Re: Bluefin - Retro: "Here There Be Dragons"
Chapter Ten
24 October 2376
0226 Galactic Mean Time
Klingonese Imperial Navy Frigate Qo'rlok
In the anteroom of his chambers, Captain Klorn moved fluidly through a series of martial exercises. Stripped to the waist, perspiration glistened on his well muscled, battle-scarred torso. Holding two trident-bladed d'taqs he moved gracefully, yet with deadly purpose - maintaining exquisite balance and control of the deadly combat blades.
Klorn became aware of another presence and he quickly turned, crouching into the ad'jin, or first attack position. As he recognized the intruder, he relaxed and straightened.
"Shouldn't you be at your station, Lieutenant?" he asked in an even tone, as he placed the daggers back into their ancient, stonewood case.
The lithe communications officer remained in the shadows, a faint feral glow emanated from her golden eyes. "I would ask the same of you, M'Lord. Do you feel it prudent to leave the bridge in the hands of the Patron-Major?"
The Klinognese warrior turned and regarded Lt. Grel through narrow eyes. For a moment, the Captain's consort thought she had crossed some hidden line and stoically awaited the inevitable thrust of a blade from her Captain and lover.
Instead, Klorn merely chuckled, walked to the Lieutenant and began to run his fingers through her hair.
"Klejis is a toothless targ," he said, whispering into her ear as he caressed her slender neck. "He will do nothing."
"Even toothless targs have poisonous claws, m'Lord," she breathed in reply.
"Indeed," he rumbled. Clenching his fist tightly in her hair, he peered intently into her eyes as he suddenly pulled her head back, exposing her neck. "As do you, I suspect."
Grel's eyes flashed. "I serve you only! If you desire my life from me, you have but to ask."
Klorn's face was an unreadable mask as he released the Lieutenant's tresses. He turned from her and retrieved his tunic. "It may yet come to that Grel kai-Lorqa. Perhaps. But do not be so quick to hurry your death. There is always greater glory in spilling your enemy's blood than your own. Fate will determine when you join the Black Fleet."
"As you say."
Klorn pulled his cloak over his tunic and turned back to face the Lieutenant. "Yes. As I say. Now, return to your station, Lieutenant. I will return to the bridge momentarily. I believe I have decided on how to deal with my enemy."
"The Earthers?"
A faint smile crossed the warrior's face. "I was speaking of Patron-Major Klejis."
* * *
24 October 2376
0228 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Bridge
The Bluefin's bridge crew watched the Klingonese frigate glide slowly into view through the forward viewports. The tri-maran hulled vessel was heavily armored with greenish gray plating and the Imperial trefoils of the Klin' stood out prominently on the gracefully arched wings. Small by warship standards, the Qo'rlok still dwarfed the Bluefin in both size and firepower.
Bane let out a low, appreciative whistle as he gazed at the frigate.
"Mr. Bane, try again to hail that ship," ordered the Captain, sharply.
"Aye, sir."
Lt. Commander McBride leaned over and spoke quietly where only Akinola could hear. "What now, Skipper? They're kinda big for us to play 'chicken'."
Akinola snorted. "What now? Hell Dale, I'm making this up as we go along," whispered the Captain. "But I am damn sure not letting them get their hands on the technology on Endurance - we'll fire a torpedo into the derelict if necessary."
McBride grunted in agreement. "Okay, Skipper, I'm with you. But big, green and ugly out there might object."
As the XO finished his thought, the ship's lights dimmed once again and the cutter rocked, as if caught in a sudden, powerful wave. The hull popped and creaked ominously as Lt. Bane uttered a few choice epithets while struggling with multiple alarms and system failures.
"Status!" barked Akinola.
The Aussie OPs officer shook his head in frustration and turned to face the Captain. Bane was clearly distressed.
"That energy surge was twice as strong as the last one and futzed up most of the primary systems. Navigation and targeting are down and it will take a while to get them restored. Communications are shot, too."
"How 'bout a rundown of what is working, Lieutenant?" interjected McBride.
"Back-up systems kicked in for everything else. Life support, internal power, defensive shields, sub-light engines, spin-drive, even weapons are all good to go . . ."
"Except we can't aim and we can only use celestial navigation," finished the Captain, gravely. "What happens if we get hit by another one of those energy waves?"
Bane hesitated. "Well, sir . . . we're already on secondary systems. If another wave hits us with double the intensity, our internal shielding will fail and, well . . ."
He didn't need to finish the thought. One more energy wave and Bluefin would be dead in space.
Akinola digested this new information as he stared at the Klingonese frigate which now hung in space a bare hundred kilometers away. He was about to inquire of the frigate's status when the handset on the command chair buzzed. He picked it up, annoyed at the interruption.
"Akinola," he said, tersely.
"Captain! It's Lieutenant Strauss - sir, it's imperative that I speak to you immediately."
"Lieutenant, we're kind of busy at the moment; it will have to wait."
"Sir! O.C., I mean, Dr. Castille woke up momentarily. From what he told me, we need to get out of this area as soon as possible!"
Akinola frowned as he heard the urgency in Strauss' voice. "That's going to be problematic, Mr. Strauss. Our nav-system is down, so we're limited to slow-speed maneuvering only. What's so damn urgent, anyway?"
"Sir, are you familiar with dark matter?"
Akinola's mouth went dry. "Lieutenant, get to the bridge, on the double!" He slammed down the handset, earning a curious glance from McBride.
"Trouble?" the XO inquired.
"As if we didn't have enough," fumed the Captain. "Dale, I hope you remember your celestial navigation training."
McBride raised a wary eyebrow "It's been a long time, sir. Why?"
"We may have to high-tail out of here sooner rather than later. Get up to the observation bubble and see if you can plot a clear course for a short null space jump."
McBride's face blanched. "Skipper? Nobody is a good enough navigator to plan a jump usin' just a star chart with a sextant an' slide-rule!"
"Dale, I don't need you to be good. I need you to be lucky. Have T'Ser meet you up there - she can probably do the calculations in her head. Get moving!" He turned to Bane. "Lieutenant, we need to warn off that Klingonese ship."
"But sir, the comm system is . . ."
Akinola gestured dismissively. "I know the damn comm system is down, mister. What about the laser signal system?"
For a moment, Bane stared dumbly at the Captain, then a light seemed to go off and his face broke into a grin. "Crikey! Why didn't I think of that?" Then his face fell. "But sir - isn't it pretty unlikely they know Morse Code?"
Akinola tamped tobacco into his now cold pipe. "Very unlikely, Mr. Bane. But I'd bet a month's pay they know binary code."
The smile reappeared on Bane's face. "Gaw! That's a bonzer idea sir! I can tie in the translator and shoot 'em a message in binary with the signal lights." He paused in thought. "It may take me a while to re-program the laser signals, though."
"Then don't let me hold you up, Mr. Bane," replied Akinola as he re-lit his pipe and redirected his gaze out toward the looming warship.
* * *
24 October 2376
0229 Galactic Mean Time
Klingonese Imperial Navy Frigate Qo'rlok
For the second time, the lights on the Qo'rlok's bridge flickered out and emeregency lights came on. Multiple alarms blared, warning of systems failures throughout the frigate.
Patron-Major Klejis paced the deck in frustration. "Report!"
"Wide-spread system failure," reported Lt. Grel as she retook her station. "The energy wave breached our shields. Secondary systems are coming on-line."
As she spoke, the normal bridge lights came back on and most of the alarms ceased blaring.
Klejis pointed at the image of the Star Guard cutter on the view-screen. "Did they do this?" he demanded.
"Negative. The wave imanated from the derelect vessel. The nearby Earther vessel was also caught in the wave and most likely were affected as well." Grel ran a diagnostic check of the ship's primary systems and frowned. "Communications are still down and shield efficiency has been reduced by point three. Particle beams are off-line, but anti-ship missiles are available - their additional hardening protected their guidance systems."
Klejis shook his head in disgust. "This is a useless waste of time. Helm, prepare to maneuver us away from . . ."
"Counter-manded!" thundered the voice of Captain Klorn as he entered the bridge. "We are going nowhere until we discover the true source of these energy waves."
"To what end?" challenged Klejis. "Until our ship is ravaged and we are helpless?"
"Patron-Major," replied Klorn with dangerous calm, "do you wish to tell the council of three that the Earther's have developed a new weapon that can easily disable one of their finest vessels and we did nothing but run away?"
The political officer's face darkened, but he bit off a retort as he noticed the malevolent stares from the bridge crew.
"Certainly not, m'Lord," he replied, indignantly, "But neither should we risk one of the Empire's ships on a fool's errand! Surely you can see this is no weapon but rather some spatial phenomenon or experiment that has gone wrong!"
Klorn stepped forward, staring directly into the political officer's eyes. To his credit, Klejis did not blink nor back away.
"What I see," murmured the Captain in the same, quiet tone, "is our political officer recommending retreat in the face of adversity. Shall I enter that into my own report to the council?" Captain Klorn turned dismissively from the now enraged political officer and retook his place on the command dais.
Klejis stood, seething in stony silence, trying to muster as much dignity as he could. Folding his arms, he turned brusquely toward the viewscreen and fixed the nearby star cutter with a penetrating stare.
* * *
24 October 2376
0235 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Bridge
"Laser signals activated - message encoded and we are transmitting," announced Lt. Bane.
"Good work, Nigel," complimented the Captain. "Let's hope they can figure it out. And more important, that they heed the warning."
Lt. Strauss stepped through the hatchway onto the bridge, nearly stumbling over the knee-knocker opening in her haste. Her face was flushed and her breathing quick from running up the ladders to the bridge.
"Captain," she gasped, "it's vital that we move away from the Endurance now!"
Akinola fixed her with a baleful stare. He pointed at the viewports and the looming Klingonese frigate.
"That's not going to be so easy, Mr. Strauss. Our Klingonese friends are close enough to shoot spit-balls at us. Oh, and lest I forget, that last shock-wave took out our navigational computer!"
Strauss' looked stricken. "That means we can't jump to null-space, right?"
"Not unless we are completely out of options. The XO and Lt. T'Ser are working out jump calculations the old-fashioned way, but it will take time and it will still be very dangerous." Akinola lowered his volume and continued. "Now, what's this about dark matter?"
Strauss glanced around the bridge before speaking in a conspiratorial tone. "Apparently Dr. Castille utilized dark matter to create an artificial singularity to power the MST on Endurance. That must be why the device is out of control."
"That still doesn't explain those alien creatures," remarked Akinola.
"I'm not a scientist, Captain, but I've been around them for quite a while. I think it's likely that the singularity may have opened some sort of dimensional rift, a doorway if you will, into a different universe."
The Captain shook his head bitterly. "Damn fools - don't you people consider the consequences of your actions before playing God?"
"Sir, I swear to you, I had no idea . . ."
"Stow it, Lieutenant," he said, sharply and jabbed at her with the stem of his pipe for emphasis. "Your credibility is razor thin with me, Strauss. You've withheld information from me and now your 'mission' has jeopardized the lives of everyone on this ship as well as that Klingonese vessel."
Strauss swallowed, but pressed on. "Captain, I'm following my orders. If I had any idea that we might end up in peril, I would have told you."
Akinola fixed her with an angry stare. "You want to get back into my good graces? Then, I want a straight answer to one question."
She nodded. "Yes sir?"
"Tell me what's in that 'special' package you brought on board with you."
* * *
Chapter Ten
24 October 2376
0226 Galactic Mean Time
Klingonese Imperial Navy Frigate Qo'rlok
In the anteroom of his chambers, Captain Klorn moved fluidly through a series of martial exercises. Stripped to the waist, perspiration glistened on his well muscled, battle-scarred torso. Holding two trident-bladed d'taqs he moved gracefully, yet with deadly purpose - maintaining exquisite balance and control of the deadly combat blades.
Klorn became aware of another presence and he quickly turned, crouching into the ad'jin, or first attack position. As he recognized the intruder, he relaxed and straightened.
"Shouldn't you be at your station, Lieutenant?" he asked in an even tone, as he placed the daggers back into their ancient, stonewood case.
The lithe communications officer remained in the shadows, a faint feral glow emanated from her golden eyes. "I would ask the same of you, M'Lord. Do you feel it prudent to leave the bridge in the hands of the Patron-Major?"
The Klinognese warrior turned and regarded Lt. Grel through narrow eyes. For a moment, the Captain's consort thought she had crossed some hidden line and stoically awaited the inevitable thrust of a blade from her Captain and lover.
Instead, Klorn merely chuckled, walked to the Lieutenant and began to run his fingers through her hair.
"Klejis is a toothless targ," he said, whispering into her ear as he caressed her slender neck. "He will do nothing."
"Even toothless targs have poisonous claws, m'Lord," she breathed in reply.
"Indeed," he rumbled. Clenching his fist tightly in her hair, he peered intently into her eyes as he suddenly pulled her head back, exposing her neck. "As do you, I suspect."
Grel's eyes flashed. "I serve you only! If you desire my life from me, you have but to ask."
Klorn's face was an unreadable mask as he released the Lieutenant's tresses. He turned from her and retrieved his tunic. "It may yet come to that Grel kai-Lorqa. Perhaps. But do not be so quick to hurry your death. There is always greater glory in spilling your enemy's blood than your own. Fate will determine when you join the Black Fleet."
"As you say."
Klorn pulled his cloak over his tunic and turned back to face the Lieutenant. "Yes. As I say. Now, return to your station, Lieutenant. I will return to the bridge momentarily. I believe I have decided on how to deal with my enemy."
"The Earthers?"
A faint smile crossed the warrior's face. "I was speaking of Patron-Major Klejis."
* * *
24 October 2376
0228 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Bridge
The Bluefin's bridge crew watched the Klingonese frigate glide slowly into view through the forward viewports. The tri-maran hulled vessel was heavily armored with greenish gray plating and the Imperial trefoils of the Klin' stood out prominently on the gracefully arched wings. Small by warship standards, the Qo'rlok still dwarfed the Bluefin in both size and firepower.
Bane let out a low, appreciative whistle as he gazed at the frigate.
"Mr. Bane, try again to hail that ship," ordered the Captain, sharply.
"Aye, sir."
Lt. Commander McBride leaned over and spoke quietly where only Akinola could hear. "What now, Skipper? They're kinda big for us to play 'chicken'."
Akinola snorted. "What now? Hell Dale, I'm making this up as we go along," whispered the Captain. "But I am damn sure not letting them get their hands on the technology on Endurance - we'll fire a torpedo into the derelict if necessary."
McBride grunted in agreement. "Okay, Skipper, I'm with you. But big, green and ugly out there might object."
As the XO finished his thought, the ship's lights dimmed once again and the cutter rocked, as if caught in a sudden, powerful wave. The hull popped and creaked ominously as Lt. Bane uttered a few choice epithets while struggling with multiple alarms and system failures.
"Status!" barked Akinola.
The Aussie OPs officer shook his head in frustration and turned to face the Captain. Bane was clearly distressed.
"That energy surge was twice as strong as the last one and futzed up most of the primary systems. Navigation and targeting are down and it will take a while to get them restored. Communications are shot, too."
"How 'bout a rundown of what is working, Lieutenant?" interjected McBride.
"Back-up systems kicked in for everything else. Life support, internal power, defensive shields, sub-light engines, spin-drive, even weapons are all good to go . . ."
"Except we can't aim and we can only use celestial navigation," finished the Captain, gravely. "What happens if we get hit by another one of those energy waves?"
Bane hesitated. "Well, sir . . . we're already on secondary systems. If another wave hits us with double the intensity, our internal shielding will fail and, well . . ."
He didn't need to finish the thought. One more energy wave and Bluefin would be dead in space.
Akinola digested this new information as he stared at the Klingonese frigate which now hung in space a bare hundred kilometers away. He was about to inquire of the frigate's status when the handset on the command chair buzzed. He picked it up, annoyed at the interruption.
"Akinola," he said, tersely.
"Captain! It's Lieutenant Strauss - sir, it's imperative that I speak to you immediately."
"Lieutenant, we're kind of busy at the moment; it will have to wait."
"Sir! O.C., I mean, Dr. Castille woke up momentarily. From what he told me, we need to get out of this area as soon as possible!"
Akinola frowned as he heard the urgency in Strauss' voice. "That's going to be problematic, Mr. Strauss. Our nav-system is down, so we're limited to slow-speed maneuvering only. What's so damn urgent, anyway?"
"Sir, are you familiar with dark matter?"
Akinola's mouth went dry. "Lieutenant, get to the bridge, on the double!" He slammed down the handset, earning a curious glance from McBride.
"Trouble?" the XO inquired.
"As if we didn't have enough," fumed the Captain. "Dale, I hope you remember your celestial navigation training."
McBride raised a wary eyebrow "It's been a long time, sir. Why?"
"We may have to high-tail out of here sooner rather than later. Get up to the observation bubble and see if you can plot a clear course for a short null space jump."
McBride's face blanched. "Skipper? Nobody is a good enough navigator to plan a jump usin' just a star chart with a sextant an' slide-rule!"
"Dale, I don't need you to be good. I need you to be lucky. Have T'Ser meet you up there - she can probably do the calculations in her head. Get moving!" He turned to Bane. "Lieutenant, we need to warn off that Klingonese ship."
"But sir, the comm system is . . ."
Akinola gestured dismissively. "I know the damn comm system is down, mister. What about the laser signal system?"
For a moment, Bane stared dumbly at the Captain, then a light seemed to go off and his face broke into a grin. "Crikey! Why didn't I think of that?" Then his face fell. "But sir - isn't it pretty unlikely they know Morse Code?"
Akinola tamped tobacco into his now cold pipe. "Very unlikely, Mr. Bane. But I'd bet a month's pay they know binary code."
The smile reappeared on Bane's face. "Gaw! That's a bonzer idea sir! I can tie in the translator and shoot 'em a message in binary with the signal lights." He paused in thought. "It may take me a while to re-program the laser signals, though."
"Then don't let me hold you up, Mr. Bane," replied Akinola as he re-lit his pipe and redirected his gaze out toward the looming warship.
* * *
24 October 2376
0229 Galactic Mean Time
Klingonese Imperial Navy Frigate Qo'rlok
For the second time, the lights on the Qo'rlok's bridge flickered out and emeregency lights came on. Multiple alarms blared, warning of systems failures throughout the frigate.
Patron-Major Klejis paced the deck in frustration. "Report!"
"Wide-spread system failure," reported Lt. Grel as she retook her station. "The energy wave breached our shields. Secondary systems are coming on-line."
As she spoke, the normal bridge lights came back on and most of the alarms ceased blaring.
Klejis pointed at the image of the Star Guard cutter on the view-screen. "Did they do this?" he demanded.
"Negative. The wave imanated from the derelect vessel. The nearby Earther vessel was also caught in the wave and most likely were affected as well." Grel ran a diagnostic check of the ship's primary systems and frowned. "Communications are still down and shield efficiency has been reduced by point three. Particle beams are off-line, but anti-ship missiles are available - their additional hardening protected their guidance systems."
Klejis shook his head in disgust. "This is a useless waste of time. Helm, prepare to maneuver us away from . . ."
"Counter-manded!" thundered the voice of Captain Klorn as he entered the bridge. "We are going nowhere until we discover the true source of these energy waves."
"To what end?" challenged Klejis. "Until our ship is ravaged and we are helpless?"
"Patron-Major," replied Klorn with dangerous calm, "do you wish to tell the council of three that the Earther's have developed a new weapon that can easily disable one of their finest vessels and we did nothing but run away?"
The political officer's face darkened, but he bit off a retort as he noticed the malevolent stares from the bridge crew.
"Certainly not, m'Lord," he replied, indignantly, "But neither should we risk one of the Empire's ships on a fool's errand! Surely you can see this is no weapon but rather some spatial phenomenon or experiment that has gone wrong!"
Klorn stepped forward, staring directly into the political officer's eyes. To his credit, Klejis did not blink nor back away.
"What I see," murmured the Captain in the same, quiet tone, "is our political officer recommending retreat in the face of adversity. Shall I enter that into my own report to the council?" Captain Klorn turned dismissively from the now enraged political officer and retook his place on the command dais.
Klejis stood, seething in stony silence, trying to muster as much dignity as he could. Folding his arms, he turned brusquely toward the viewscreen and fixed the nearby star cutter with a penetrating stare.
* * *
24 October 2376
0235 Galactic Mean Time
Star Guard Cutter Bluefin SGC 58 - Bridge
"Laser signals activated - message encoded and we are transmitting," announced Lt. Bane.
"Good work, Nigel," complimented the Captain. "Let's hope they can figure it out. And more important, that they heed the warning."
Lt. Strauss stepped through the hatchway onto the bridge, nearly stumbling over the knee-knocker opening in her haste. Her face was flushed and her breathing quick from running up the ladders to the bridge.
"Captain," she gasped, "it's vital that we move away from the Endurance now!"
Akinola fixed her with a baleful stare. He pointed at the viewports and the looming Klingonese frigate.
"That's not going to be so easy, Mr. Strauss. Our Klingonese friends are close enough to shoot spit-balls at us. Oh, and lest I forget, that last shock-wave took out our navigational computer!"
Strauss' looked stricken. "That means we can't jump to null-space, right?"
"Not unless we are completely out of options. The XO and Lt. T'Ser are working out jump calculations the old-fashioned way, but it will take time and it will still be very dangerous." Akinola lowered his volume and continued. "Now, what's this about dark matter?"
Strauss glanced around the bridge before speaking in a conspiratorial tone. "Apparently Dr. Castille utilized dark matter to create an artificial singularity to power the MST on Endurance. That must be why the device is out of control."
"That still doesn't explain those alien creatures," remarked Akinola.
"I'm not a scientist, Captain, but I've been around them for quite a while. I think it's likely that the singularity may have opened some sort of dimensional rift, a doorway if you will, into a different universe."
The Captain shook his head bitterly. "Damn fools - don't you people consider the consequences of your actions before playing God?"
"Sir, I swear to you, I had no idea . . ."
"Stow it, Lieutenant," he said, sharply and jabbed at her with the stem of his pipe for emphasis. "Your credibility is razor thin with me, Strauss. You've withheld information from me and now your 'mission' has jeopardized the lives of everyone on this ship as well as that Klingonese vessel."
Strauss swallowed, but pressed on. "Captain, I'm following my orders. If I had any idea that we might end up in peril, I would have told you."
Akinola fixed her with an angry stare. "You want to get back into my good graces? Then, I want a straight answer to one question."
She nodded. "Yes sir?"
"Tell me what's in that 'special' package you brought on board with you."
* * *
Re: Bluefin - Retro: "Here There Be Dragons"
Can't wait!
It's like one of those weekly serials they used to have on TV!
Can't wait!
It's like one of those weekly serials they used to have on TV!
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