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Star Trek Destiny - Episode 1 - Prologue

The Briefing Room on the Destiny resembled a luxurious conference lounge, thought Bane. The legs of the elongated glass table were made of an extravagant rock resembling Rigelian marble and the great windows spanning the length of the room offered a fascinating view of the blue, misty transwarp conduit. He had arrived early for the briefing in light of the recent turn of events which demanded a speedier voyage to Yolande-IV and an investigation as to why a Federation outpost would so abruptly cease all long-range communications - with the exception of a frightening distress call.

At 11:00 exactly the doors hissed open and Commander Letina Iyal led five brisk senior officers into the Briefing Room. She took a seat to Bane’s right with the stout Cardassian, Dr Lenor, whilst Lieutenants Nagata and Owai sat to the captain’s left with Ra-Barra’veth.

“Welcome all of you,” began Bane, forgoing characteristic pleasantries given the gravity of the situation. “As you should all be aware, our original mission was to transport supplies to the Federation outpost, Arcadia, on Yolande-IV, however the outpost has failed to reply to transmissions from a number of friendly vessels and even a priority message from Starfleet has not been acknowledged. We are proceeding at an increased transwarp velocity to investigate, under orders of Admiral Kelvin.”

There was a sober ambience around the conference table as each officer digested the captain’s account of the situation.

“I presume from the urgency with which we are addressing this situation that the admiral has ruled out a malfunction or atmospheric interference,” commented Ra-Barra’veth.

“Yolande-IV is a Class-Y planet and so atmospheric interference or malfunctions induced by the turbulent environment can never be ruled out entirely,” noted Captain Bane. “However, as you are aware, this morning produced a development which is of concern.”

Bane turned towards Commander Iyal and the Trill woman arose from her seat, approaching a wall-mounted computer screen. She tapped the controls and the image of a distressed human male in a blue science division Starfleet uniform appeared on the screen. The picture was grainy, presumably due to interference but the officer was clearly sporting a head wound as blood trickled down his dark face.

“This recording was transmitted to us by a Pakled cargo ship in the vicinity… we estimate the message originated from Yolande-IV at zero four hundred hours,” revealed Letina Iyal as the group fixed their eyes on the screen. She touched the control panel and the still, garbled image was set into motion.

The wounded officer on the screen was barely audible over the ominous and unmistakable shrieking of a klaxon and the frequent breaks in the transmission.

“…in urgent need of assistance…failure…sustained casualties…I repeat we are in urgent need of assistance…”

The eyes of the distraught officer reflected the flashing red lights of an alarm. The look on his bloodied face as he frantically tried to convey his message of distress could only be described as horror. Distortions of the image intensified until the screen gave way to haunting blackness.

“Yolande-IV is subject to harsh and often unpredictable weather systems,” stated Lieutenant Nagata in a deliberate attempt to divert conversation from darker avenues of conjecture. “It remains possible that a freak storm has damaged the facility on the planet’s surface.”

Owai frowned, considering the engineer’s line of reasoning. The newly appointed chief of security clasped his hands on the table and enquired, “Is there anyone who might have a reason to attack the outpost?”

“The blunt answer is no,” replied Captain Bane knowingly as if he had already asked the question of himself. “The facility on Yolande-IV is a celebrated research station but the planet is of no tactical or strategic importance.”

“Perhaps the research could be of some significance or perhaps there is material or equipment on Yolande-IV which is of value,” pondered Lieutenant Owai.

“Perhaps but unlikely,” interjected Ra-Barra, stroking his silver goatee thoughtfully. “The main areas of research on Yolande-IV relate to the study of the planet itself such as environmental sciences, geology and exobiology as it pertains to native bacterium.”

“That’s the reason the outpost is located in such a hostile environment,” added Commander Iyal as she folded her arms and joined in the discussion. “It needs to be.”

“Of course, there are also rumours regarding alleged activities conducted in the outpost,” stated the curious Dr Lenor in her first contribution to the discussion.

Heads turned towards the Cardassian woman as she sat back, briefly regretting having even mentioned the idle tittle-tattle of fellow scientists and physicians.

“What kind of activities?” probed Lieutenant Owai.

“I stress these are rumours,” cautioned the doctor, “but it has been suggested that because Yolande-IV is so isolated and lies on the edge of Federation space that research and experimentation are subject to far less regulation.”

Bane and Iyal turned to their trusted confident, the Chief Science Officer of the Destiny. They need not even ask him to comment as his pensive gaze indicated that he was already considering the doctor’s statement.

“The outpost on Yolande-IV has supported other kinds of research in the past,” recounted Ra-Barra’veth, nodding as if validating his assertion privately. “However, cybernetics and xeno-biology are legitimate sciences.”

“Legitimate sciences perhaps, but without an appropriate regime of regulation and inspection illicit practices could be employed without the authorities ever knowing,” explained Dr Lenor, focusing on Ra-Barra, seemingly challenging him to construct a counter-argument.

“At the moment,” Bane intervened, “we are all speculating. The only way we are going to establish what is happening on Yolande-IV is to inspect the outpost for ourselves.”

There was a murmur of agreement as Bane Mather looked around the table at each of his officers and nodded to conclude the session.

“Dismissed.”
 
I echo the sentiment of the others...doing a fine job and you've managed to capture my attention! An interesting crew and starship with a mystery on their hands to solve while also dealing with underlying tension.

Admiral Young
 
Thanks a lot for the continued interest.

Here is the next part to the story of the Destiny.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

As Letina Iyal sat in the captain’s chair on the bridge she reflected on her first impressions of Bane Mather. Her respect for Captain Vran was as unswerving in death as it was throughout his professional life. This chair was his chair, the ready room was his room and this ship was Vran’s to command. Although she accepted that Bane was the new CO and realized that the rest of the crew was moving on, she continued to think, however irrationally, that to replace Vran was to defile his memory.

“We are approaching Yolande-IV,” announced Tessa Shanthi from her position at the helm, awakening Letina from her musings.

Commander Iyal straightened her spine against the back of the central command chair as she watched the main view screen. The planet ahead was a tremendous sphere of brown and orange clouds which seemed to grow larger as the Destiny moved closer towards the Y-Class body. The similarities between Yolande-IV and the planet where the Captain Vran lost his life were all too striking. Chills crept up Letina’s spine and a lump formed in her throat. She took a deep breath and discretely composed herself.

“There are no signs of hostile spacecraft in the immediate vicinity,” asserted Naomi Wildman as she inspected the computer screen on the Ops console.

“Assume a standard orbit,” ordered Letina Iyal as she tapped her comm-badge. “Captain to the bridge!”

Letina rose from the command chair and examined the image on the viewer. Gaps in the cloud appeared to show an inhospitable rocky, planetary surface. The first officer turned to face the tactical console behind her.

“Mr Owai,” called Iyal, “have you been able to raise the outpost?”

Marc Owai tapped the controls before him but a dull, droning audio signal from the computer indicated that his attempts to hail the outpost were unsuccessful.

“The outpost is still failing to respond to our hails,” reported the Maori tactical officer.

The turbo lift door slid open with a hiss and Captain Bane Mather purposefully strode onto the bridge and stepped from the raised outer platform towards the three assorted command chairs. He stood beside Iyal, watching the planet on the main view screen.

“We are still unable to establish contact with the outpost but there does not appear to be any hostile spacecraft in the area,” stated Letina Iyal.

Bane nodded and walked towards the forward computer stations, standing between Ops and Flight Control.

“Lieutenant Wildman,” called Bane, “scan the outpost…are you detecting any irregularities? Any signs of damage? Any unusual life signs? Anything out of the ordinary at all?”

Naomi Wildman ran her fingers across her console, entering commands and studying the read-outs on her screen.

“The accuracy of the sensors is inhibited by atmospheric interference,” reported Wildman. “There are no obvious signs of damage to the exterior of the outpost but the effectiveness of our sensors is limited. I recommend using the advanced multi-spectral sensor array to conduct a more intensive scan.”

Iyal took her seat at the right of the captain’s chair and nodded towards Ra-Barra’veth at the science station, “See to it, Commander.”

The Efrosian science officer leaned over his console and studiously set to work on his computer station, employing the sophisticated sensor equipment of a Saturn-class starship and scrutinizing the readings which appeared on the screen before him.

“Life signs?” asked Captain Bane as he peered over Naomi Wildman’s shoulder to judge the readings for himself.

Naomi Wildman checked her console and as the relevant data appeared on her screen a lump formed in her throat.

“Sir,” came the unnerving reply from Lieutenant Wildman, “I am not detecting any life signs from the outpost.”

A chilling silence seemed to fall over the bridge like a dark cloud. Bane and Iyal turned to the science station where Ra-Barra’veth was conducting his more specialized, comprehensive sensor sweeps of the outpost and the planetary surface. The seconds passing while Ra-Barra inspected the readings were painstaking. Finally, the Chief Science Officer arrived the same startling conclusion.

“Confirmed, sir,” stated Ra-Barra’veth, looking up from his computer station, his bright blue eyes wide with terror. “No life signs have been detected on the surface of Yolande-IV.”
 
I’ve just recently caught up with your posts, and I must say you’ve arrived on the fanfic board with a compelling story. Your setting, characters, and even the ship itself are largely unexplored territory. I don’t envy Bane his having to step into Vran’s shoes. It would be hard enough to be the follow-on act for a ‘regular’ captain, let alone a legendary one.

The presence of Bane’s wife and son is also a refreshing change of pace. Most of the fanfic series captains on the board here are single or divorced. :D

Iyal’s guilt will doubtless plague her for some time. It remains to be seen if she can get past it and live up to her potential. Their first mission together will be telling, not just for the captain and XO, but for the entire crew.

You’ve got me hooked, and I’ll be coming along for the ride.

Welcome to the board! :thumbsup:
 
Thanks Gibraltar, it's great to see some of the respected regulars giving positive feedback.

Here's the next installment Star Trek: Destiny.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Only the hum of the Destiny’s engines penetrated ominous silence on the bridge. Captain Bane Mather and Commander Iyal stood before the science officer’s station as Ra-Barra’veth checked his console to confirm the startling revelation.

“Are you saying that everyone on Outpost Arcadia is dead?” asked the captain, in disbelief.

Ra-Barra’veth looked up from his computer screen and repeated, “No life signs have been detected.”

“Are life support systems functioning properly on the outpost?” enquired Letina Iyal, for once appearing more cool, calm and collected than her CO. “Has containment been maintained?”

“It would appear so,” replied the Efrosian as he glanced at his console and nodded expectantly, anticipating the commander’s line of questioning. “The outpost will support life but I am concerned that a gathering weather system may disrupt our transporters and communications.”

Bane Mather was pacing across the central command area of the bridge as the crew awaited his instructions. In his mind he was weighing up the situation and contemplating his next course of action. Letina Iyal approached him to converse quietly in the middle of the bridge.

“I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t send an away team for as long as weather permits,” pronounced the commander.

“I concur,” replied Bane softly but still in deep thought. “However, I want to keep continuous transporter locks on the whole team and an open comm link.”

Letina Iyal indicated her agreement.

“Should a storm form over the outpost we would require some form signal amplification,” advised the methodical Trill officer.

“Very well, have Lieutenant Nagata see to it that your team is equipped with Signal Amplifiers set to enhance both communications and transportion.”

“Aye, sir,” acknowledged Letina Iyal as she left the bridge, followed by Ra-Barra‘veth from the science station and Marcus Owai from tactical.

Bane Mather anxiously took his seat in the captain’s chair and prayed his landing party would not fall victim to the same fate as the occupants of Outpost Arcadia on the planet below.


* * *


Three cylinders of bright, blinding light appeared in a dim metallic corridor on the Federation outpost, illuminating the cold passageway. In each glowing beam, a formless haze took shape and three Starfleet officers solidified.

Commander Letina Iyal, Lieutenant Commander Ra-Barra’veth and Lieutenant Marcus Owai materialized and took their first breaths of the stale recycled air on the outpost. Owai instinctively drew his hand-phaser whilst Ra-Barra’veth unclipped his tricorder and activated the device. Letina Iyal activated the her flash beacon, a torch strapped to her wrist and inspected her surroundings.

“Destiny to away team,” came the voice of Captain Bane through Iyal’s comm-badge.

Iyal tapped her comm-badge and replied, “Away team here, sir.”

“Lieutenant Nagata has signalled that you must all activate your Signal Amplification Units,” stated the captain as each of the officers tapped small metallic armbands strapped beneath their shoulders.

Iyal noted the crimson carpet and the silver walls, illuminated only by the flashing red lighting panels. The outpost appeared to be running on emergency power and the computer was maintaining a state of red alert. She shone her beacon down the length of the corridor but the darkness was not masking anything threatening or unusual.

“I am still not detecting any life signs,” reported Ra-Barra’veth as he examined his tricorder.

Letina looked over his shoulder at his tricorder to confirm his assessment and asked, “We need to get to the Operations Centre, can you access a floor plan or a map of the outpost?”

“Aye, commander,” replied the science officer. He pressed a button on his device and glanced to his senior officer. “The Operations Centre is located approximately 100 metres ahead.”

Letina Iyal led the way, aiming her beacon ahead and walking towards the torchlight. The silver-haired science officer followed with his tricorder in one hand and a phaser in the other. Marcus Owai brought up the rear watching like a hawk for threatening signs, ready to react. The away team approached a stiff door, sealed shut, the automated mechanism unresponsive to attempts to penetrate the entrance. Owai located a hatch and pulled the manual override, allowing Letina Iyal to slide the door open.

“Captain,” called Letina, speaking through her comm-badge, “we have gained access to the Operations Centre.”

The team fanned out into the nerve centre of the outpost. The dull room was illuminated by the flashing red alarm panels and natural light from a the large, thick windows on the perimeter of the room. The principal furnishing was the Ops Table, one half of which was flickering on and off whilst the other half was consisted of blank touch screens.

“Can you access the central computer?” asked Letina Iyal indicating towards the command station.

Ra-Barra-veth holstered his phaser and clipped his tricorder to his belt, tapping the controls on the Ops Table before him.

“The base is only partly operational and is running on emergency power,” reported Ra-Barra as he studied the shimmering, malfunctioning console.

Iyal stood over the computer with the science officer, “Can you explain the power loss?”

“The computer systems appear to have been severely disrupted…I cannot ascertain the cause of the power loss or the source of the disruption.”

The transmitted voice of the Destiny’s captain was imparted from the commander’s comm-badge as Bane Mather asked, “What is the condition of the facility?”

“There are no signs of structural damage to the outpost,” reported Letina as she surveyed the blank consoles and thick windows of the control room. “The computer systems are unresponsive and appear to be severely damaged.”

“I don’t need to tell you that those computers hold the records and the sensor logs we need to establish what has happened down there.”

Of course not, thought Iyal, as if Bane was unjustly treating her as a novice.

Letina Iyal attempted to activate the other side of the Ops Table but the stubborn computer failed to respond to her prodding. She unclipped her own tricorder and scanned the impaired computer station whilst Ra-Barra continued to utilize the semi-operational console.

Marcus Owai scrutinized the Operations Centre in more detail, still too cautious to holster his weapon. He looked at the barren desks and idle computer terminals situated around the perimeter of the workspace, beneath the broad, sturdy windows and realized that the distress signal received by the Destiny must have been recorded in this desolate control room. A disconcerting realization in his mind unsettled the muscular, burly security officer.

There were no bodies.

No life signs had been detected yet no signs of death were visible.

“How many were known to occupy this outpost, commander?” enquired Marc Owai as he peered through the great windows of the Operations Centre.

“Almost two hundred,” replied Letina Iyal, busying herself with her tricorder.

“Does it not strike you as strange that following the death of two hundred men, women and children that there are no bodies strewn across the floor?” posed the lieutenant, gazing through reinforced windows at the swirls of poisonous yellow gases, orange sunlight and brown rocks of the planet’s surface.

“Perhaps we will find bodies in the emergency shelters,” offered the commander, examining the read-outs on her tricorder yet growing anxious by Owai’s questioning.

Ra-Barra’veth interrupted the discussion to pronounce, “The functions of the Operations Table are being seriously inhibited by extensive internal damage to the computer systems. I recommend that we try our luck accessing the computer core directly.”

“Captain!” called Iyal, addressing her comm-badge. “How much time do we have until the weather system disrupts our signals?”

A pause, while Bane consulted an officer.

“Lieutenant Nagata has advised that we withdraw the away team in forty minutes and wait until the storms clear in sixteen hours time before revisiting the outpost.”

“Aye, sir,” acknowledged Letina as she clipped her tricorder onto her belt. “We are preparing to make our way to the central computer core. Mr Ra-Barra suggests that we may learn more about the damage to the computer systems there.”

“Proceed, commander, and we will maintain an open comm-link.”

Letina Iyal and Ra-Barra’veth prepared to leave the Operations Centre but Marcus Owai continued to inspect the view from the giant windows. He could see that the outpost was laid out around a quadrangle, which appeared to contain a landing area and a hangar for shuttlecraft. From his vantage, he could see through the misty gases and catch glimpses of darkened windows around the building. There was a creeping sensation up his spine as he contemplated the eerie circumstances on Yolande-IV and as he thought that for a moment, though just for a moment, that he saw something in one of those murky windows…something looking straight back at him.
 
You’ve got a good, unsettlingly creepy vibe going here, sort of a mix of Aliens and TNG’s Identity Crisis. I appreciated Iyal’s irritation at her perception of Bane micromanaging the away mission from orbit.
 
Your character interactions grow deeper and deeper, I'm especially enjoying the growing conflict between Bane and Iyal as both are having to adjust to each other. Also a nice bit of atmosphere setting on Yolanda-IV, it looks like we're in for a bit of a horror tale here.

I also think it's a good move on your part making Bane a family man--that dynamic produces a different set of problems and conflicts than the more traditional single/divorced captain. Also, setting it in the 25th century gives you the room to do quite a bit of universe building in that you've got this nice big sandbox to play in.

A very good story--keep it up! :)
 
The away team made their way guardedly through the atrium of Outpost Arcadia. The domed ceiling offered dramatic views of the gathering toxic clouds in the sky of Yolande-IV. The main hall was served by the grand staircase, the away team were descending and contained numerous doors and passageways to other areas of the outpost.

Ra-Barra’veth consulted his tricorder and informed the team, “The computer core is accessed through the lower levels of the facility.”

Letina Iyal allowed the science officer to lead the way as she scanned the area with her torchlight and carried her phaser at her side. Marcus Owai, controlling his anxiety, followed with his weapon drawn, in a state of military-like readiness.

There was a clunking sound which echoed throughout the atrium as Letina Iyal muttered a curse under her breath.

“Commander?” enquired Owai, turning to assist his senior officer.

“No need for alarm, I just tripped over something,” explained the first officer, pointing to an overturned plantpot.

The Trill XO leaned over to pick up the pot, expecting to find an exotic specimen of plant life but instead dust trickled out of the container and onto the floor of the outpost. She could tell something was out of place but the mission required the away team to press onwards.

“We should move swiftly,” urged Lieutenant Commander Ra-Barra’veth. “We have less than forty minutes to examine the computer core.”

The team followed the Efrosian’s lead and ambled through the atrium, guided by the glowing display on the science officer’s tricorder. They entered another long corridor, beneath the flashing red alarm panels and into the bowels of the scientific research facility.

Letina probed the floor with her beacon and noted the occasional discarded item; a shoe, a flask, a PADD, a phaser.

Ra-Barra’veth consulted his tricorder, “I am not detecting any evidence that the weapon was discharged in the vicinity.”

Letina Iyal nodded and the away team continued to advance through the corridor.

“Ever heard the story of the Mary Celeste?” enquired Marcus Owai, continuing to look for any irregularities or potential threats.

“I regret to say I have not,” replied the Efrosian science officer.

Marc Owai described the legendary tale, “It is an ancient Earth story of a ship found adrift at sea. No-one is found aboard but no bodies are ever recovered. The personal belongings of the crew had not been taken, half-eaten food was still lying on the table…it was as if everyone on board just vanished.”

“I must say,” commented Ra-Barra, “your story has failed to comfort me in the slightest.”

Letina Iyal could not help but smirk at the conversation until she approached a heavy door at the end of the corridor.

“This is it,” she stated, pointing her torchlight at the sealed door.

Marcus Owai accessed the manual release and the doors unhinged and were drawn by the mighty security officers. The away team entered the Computer Access Room, their phasers ready. The flashing red lights illuminated the gargantuan central computer core, a cylindrical tower, several levels tall.

Parts of the core appeared to be flickering, whilst others were dull and inactive.

Ra-Barra’veth prodded the console, attempting to bring up an analysis of the computer core. After repeated unsuccessful attempts he unclipped his tricorder and scanned the structure before him.

“I’m afraid, commander, that the computer core has been severely damaged,” reported Ra-Barra, studying the data generated by his device. “The computer core processes have been interrupted in some way. There also appears to be sub-atomic damage to the core itself.”

Letina Iyal attempted to activate the console herself whilst listening to the information being reported by the second officer.

“This sub-atomic damage is very interesting,” remarked Ra-Barra’veth, pressing controls on his tricorder. “It is as if there has been an incredibly minute strain or disfigurement which has scrambled the computer core entirely.”

“Does that mean we will be unable to retrieve sensor logs?” pressed the commander, fearing that their investigation was about to hit a roadblock.

“I’m afraid so,” replied Ra-Barra’veth. “However, it is still possible that there are personal logs on individual standalone computer stations which may be accessible.”

Letina Iyal cursed under her breath. Unravelling the mystery of Yolande-IV was proving to be a taxing challenge.

“Commander,” came the voice of Bane Mather from Iyal’s comm-badge. “Have you found anything?”

Iyal responded, “The computer core is severely damaged…at a sub-atomic level. I can’t quite explain it but the central computer core has been distorted beyond repair.”

“I suggest you return with a subject for an autopsy,” recommended Bane. “I will have Dr Lenor see to the quarantine protocols.”

“Sir, we have yet to locate a single body. It is as if everyone on Outpost Arcadia has just disappeared.”


* * *

The three Starfleet officers approached a large, thick metallic door, the sealed entrance to the emergency shelter of Outpost Arcadia. Ra-Barra’veth probed the thick doors with his tricorder and turned to face his commander.

“The doors are sealed from the inside,” reported the silver-haired Efrosian science officer. “The doors appear to be comprised of some form of neutronium-based alloy. Transporting to the other side is next to impossible.”

Letina Iyal surveyed the great blast-doors before her and looked for a control panel. She attempted to release the doors by prodding the touchpad but with no success.

“Are you able to detect a manual release?” asked the first officer, sizing up the great entranceway.

Ra-Barra’veth returned his attention to the tricorder, scanning for an answer.

Meanwhile, Marcus Owai seemed far more interested in the area surrounding the blast-doors. The passageway the away team found themselves in was two levels tall, equivalent in height to the impenetrable shelter. The Security Chief inspected the walls, the flashing red panels, the spiralling tinny stairway which led to an overhead platform.

“Commander,” whispered Lieutenant Owai, gazing at the platform above.

Letina Iyal turned to face the young lieutenant.

“Look over there, behind the railing,” implored Owai, raising his phaser slightly.

Ra-Barra’veth, sensing concern, diverted his scans from the emergency shelter to the platform above.

“Something moved up there,” asserted Letina Iyal, drawing her own phaser.

The sound of heavy clanging - metal against metal - and the sight of a figure scurrying across the overhead platform and out of sight prompted the away team to pursue.

Marcus Owai led the team up the spiralling stairway, his phaser in hand and darted across the platform, followed by Letina Iyal and Ra-Barra’veth.

“What’s going on down there?” came the demanding voice of Bane Mather.

Ra-Barra’veth consulted his tricorder as he sprinted after the other two away team members.

“Captain,” called Ra-Barra, intending for the team-members to hear his findings in addition to the bridge crew of the Destiny. “I am detecting a machine…perhaps an artificial life form. We are in pursuit.”

Marcus Owai could only just see the last of the figure he was pursuing. The back of the dark figure as a door slid shut behind it, the end of a foot as the figure rounded a corner. He was exerting himself, trying to follow the subject. This body, whatever it was, was moving at an almost inhuman speed.

Through another sliding door and Owai felt himself tumbling, plunging to the ground. He hit a cold surface with a violent thud, his phaser skating across the ground.

“Get out!” screamed a voice, the higher the pitch became, the more broken and electronic it sounded.

Letina Iyal and Ra-Barra’veth entered the room and were immediately met with the sight of a heavy, broad-shouldered humanoid figure charging towards them.

“Get out!” repeated the enraged voice.

Iyal pointed her phaser but the grey, mechanical beast knocked her to the ground with a flailing forearm to the face. Ra-Barra’veth ducked another wild swinging arm but was met with a kick to his head.

“What’s happening?” Bane could be heard asking from Iyal’s comm-badge. “What’s happening down there?”

Marcus Owai, battling the pain and the disorientation, felt around the cold ground for his phaser. His fingertips grazed the weapon as he heard the clanging footsteps of his attacker drawing near. The lieutenant finally grasped his weapon, rolled onto his back and fired at his adversary.

The scorching orange beam failed to halt the advance of the menacing, grey android. Owai cursed and pushed a button on his phaser, adjusting the setting and firing again. The second beam charred the chest of his adversary, with little more impact. Owai increased the phaser setting again, his last shot until his assailant was upon him.

A further beam of orange light caused sparks to fly from the chest of the tall, grey android. The machine was raised from it’s feet and fell to the ground, finally incapacitated.

“Bane to away team, we’re getting you out of there!”

“No need, sir,” said the breathless lieutenant, tapping his comm-badge. “I have subdued the android.”

Lieutenant Owai hauled himself to his feet, holstered his phaser and looked around at his surroundings. He appeared to be in some kind of laboratory. Motionless mechanical arms and lengths of cable were scattered untidily across a workbench. PADDs were piled up on a desk. A wall bore framed pictures, paintings and what the lieutenant took to be certificates and honours, no doubt awarded to the researcher to whom the laboratory belonged.

“Well done, lieutenant,” said Letina Iyal as Ra-Barra’veth helped her onto her feet.

Commander Iyal and Ra-Barra stood over the fallen android, noting the seared hole on it’s chest where the phaser beam must have struck. The grey android appeared to be unclothed and sexless, designed for function rather than as a mechanical mimic of human biology.

Lieutenant Owai peered around the room and his eyes were drawn towards what he could only describe as three hammocks at the rear of the laboratory. The first two supported motionless, mechanical forms which directly resembled the android assailant. The third was empty.

Ra-Barra’veth approached the hammocks, his tricorder, flashing and beeping as he conducted his scans.

“There is no need for alarm,” stated Ra-Barra, glancing up from his device. “These appear only to be empty casings. They do not contain mechanical parts…these are merely metal shells.”

Marcus Owai noticed that above each hammock was a plate, secured to the wall. Each plate bore a number; 1, 2 and 3.

Letina Iyal tapped her comm-badge and addressed the captain, “Sir, I recommend that we bring the android back to the Destiny for interrogation. There are no accessible sensor logs, no survivors…this android is our only witness and perhaps our only suspect.”

“Agreed,” replied the captain from the starship in orbit. “However, I want it confined to the cybernetics lab and I want Dr Lenor to establish a quarantine, we still can‘t take any chances.”

“Yes, sir,” responded Commander Iyal as the away team assembled above the body of the fallen android. “Four to beam up.”

As the transporter beam surrounded Marcus Owai, he took one last look at the framed certificates and awards, hoping to note whom the recipient of these honours was.

He was flummoxed when he glimpsed his answer.

Bruce Maddox.
 
Maddox finally did it! ...sorta.

As far as a design for your starship, I highly recommend you browse around Bridge Commander Files.com. You might find a design you like there. That's where I got the idea for the Courageous class. Plus, if you have the Bridge Commander game, you can play it! ...sorry, I love that game. :angel:
 
The Cybernetics Lab on the USS Destiny was a hexagonally-shaped room, the centre occupied by a large restraint designed to hold humanoid forms of artificial intelligence upright. The perimeter of the room housed an entrance, a storage room and three large interactive screens and a specialized wall-mounted console. Elsewhere in the room was a trolley containing parts and apparatus and a workspace containing a cold work surface, resembling a coroner’s slab.

The android recovered from Outpost Arcadia was positioned inside the central restraint as Lieutenant Ray Nagata studied the motionless machine up close. Dr Lenor was conducted scans from a workstation and glanced over her shoulder to converse with the engineer.

“How severely has the android been damaged?” asked Lieutenant Owai, standing guard in the corner to ensure a security officer was present throughout the examination.

“The phaser burn does not appear to have caused significant internal damage,” noted Dr Lenor as she scrutinized the readouts on a wall-mounted computer console.

Ray Nagata hovered around the android, thoroughly scanning his subject with a tricorder.

“Some of the compounds used the construction of the android are unfamiliar,” noted Nagata, tapping controls on his tricorder and studying the screen on the device.

“How do you mean unfamiliar?” pressed Lieutenant Owai from the corner of the room, surveying the investigation with his arms folded.

“These metals certainly don’t look like they’ve come from within the Federation,” explained the Chief Engineer. “Perhaps it was built elsewhere or by an alien cyberneticist.”

Nagata joined Lenor at the wall-mounted console and together they entered commands, employing the equipment of the Cybernetics Lab to probe their dormant android subject.

Marc Owai unfolded his arms and revealed to his assiduous colleagues, “The android was built by Bruce Maddox.”


* * *


Bane Mather paced the length of the Briefing Room, occasionally glancing out of the wide windows at the orange and brown globe that was Yolande-IV. When the Destiny arrived at this planet he did not envisage that he would have to launch such a complex investigation.

Seated around the conference table were his senior staff, each offering their thoughts and analysis.

“I refuse to believe that two hundred people can simply vanish,” stated Bane, more to himself than the group. “There has to be some shred of evidence, some trace of their existence, some clue which can contribute to an explanation.”

Ra-Barra’veth reminded the senior staff, “The central computer was severely damaged; sensor logs and transporter records are inaccessible.”

Letina Iyal interposed, “However, when we return to the surface I would like to transmit personal logs from standalone computers to the Destiny. At the moment those personal logs are the best hope we have of constructing a timeline, detailing exactly what happened before the distress signal was recorded at zero four hundred hours.”

“I also want you to do everything you can to find some biological remains,” added Bane, standing still now, leaning on the back of a chair. “I don’t care if you find the outpost’s administrator or his pet dog, if we have a corpse we can perform an autopsy.”

“Captain,” beckoned Dr Lenor, “I have a request to make.”

Bane Mather and the officers assembled round the conference table looked to the Cardassian Chief Medical Officer.

“The android is our best lead so far,” reasoned Lenor. “Whilst Lieutenant Nagata continues his repairs, I would like to visit the outpost to gather information about the android and his creator.”

“Of course,” agreed Bane, considering the other major development. “I would also like to establish why Professor Maddox was operating out of Yolande-IV. This place is too remote for one of the Federation’s greatest minds to live and work.”

Clear about the duties and tasks at hand and determined to solve the mystery of Yolande-IV, the conference adjourned and officers set to work.


* * *


Captain Bane Mather stood beside two security guards in Cybernetics on the Destiny, observing attempts to repair and revive the robotic detainee. The prisoner was confined to a large upright restraint in the middle of the laboratory, cables still connecting the machine to near-by support equipment.

Ray Nagata, the Chief Engineer, had removed a silver plate from the back of the immobilized, lifeless android, permitting him to probe exposed circuitry and mechanisms with his apparatus.

The repairs resembled a surgical procedure, thought Bane as he watched the expert engineer aiming lasers into the spine of the android.

Lieutenant Nagata placed his tools neatly on a trolley and replaced the silver plate to the rear of the android. A quick scan with his tricorder and Nagata approached the wall-mounted computer console.

“I am ready to reactivate the android, sir,” reported Ray Nagata.

Bane nodded as the security guards cautiously placed their hands on their holstered phasers.

The sound of a mechanism coming to life echoed in the hushed laboratory. The grey, metallic being twitched and rotated a shoulder joint slightly, exhibiting signs not unlike a human being arising from deep sleep.

“I am Captain Bane Mather of Starfleet,” announced the Bajoran CO, watching his prisoner and noting his movements.

“Daystrom-3...” came a slightly droning reply, “…Exterior Operations Unit.”

Bane and Nagata exchanged a knowing look. The android had only just been activated yet it’s designation and purpose was already clear.

“You are being held on the USS Destiny,” explained Bane, sizing up the grey bipedal machine.

The android gazed around the laboratory, his face fixed and unchanging yet Bane sensing the prisoner was inquisitive with regards to the surroundings.

“You attacked my officers on Yolande-IV,” stated Bane with a firm, almost fatherly commanding tone. “I want to know why?”

“Intruders,” said the android.

“Intruders?” probed Bane. “Who are the intruders? My officers or someone else?”

“The intruders breached the Professor’s laboratory,” stated the android, almost distantly, gazing around the Cybernetics Lab.

“You are referring to my officers, were there other intruders beforehand?” pressed the captain.

The android met Bane’s stare and asserted, “The intruders fired upon me when they breached the Professor’s laboratory.”

Bane Mather folded his arms, studying the metallic face of the android. It was plausible that the android was programmed to protect the laboratory and property of Bruce Maddox and considered the away team to be a threat. However, there were further unanswered questions to be articulated.

“Where were you at zero four hundred hours this morning?” enquired the captain, adopting an investigative tone.

“I was inactive at zero four hundred hours.”

“When were you activated?”

A cold pause.

“Fourteen hundred hours,” came the reply from the Daystrom-3 android.

“Who activated you?” pushed Bane, holding his unyielding stare at the machine.

“I am programmed to active at fourteen hundred hours daily.”

Bane sensed that his line of questioning would become less fruitful but nevertheless pressed further, “Where are the occupants of Outpost Arcadia?”

“I do not know.”

Bane did not like the answer, his gut told him this seemingly childlike android, Daystrom-3, was far less innocuous than it would appear.
 
Interesting...half truths and misdirection as the mystery deepens. Added to that is the fact that many of the construction materials comes from outside the Federation. Did Maddox receive outside help? All sorts of questions here.
 
Letina Iyal had returned to Outpost Arcadia with Lieutenant Commander Ra-Barra’veth and a much larger away team of at least twenty others. Their orders were to scour the whole facility for any clues or evidence that would assist in determining what had happened to almost two hundred souls.

She stood in a hallway alongside a junior officer, being shown a PADD and commenting on the script and diagrams presented to her.

“Commander!” called the familiar, husky voice of Ra-Barra’veth.

“Excuse me, ensign,” said Letina Iyal, leaving the officer with his PADD and approaching the Chief Science Officer.

“Would you like to see the shocking or the surprising first?” posed Ra-Barra’veth, raising one of his white eyebrows.

“Let’s go with shocking,” responded Letina Iyal, not quite in the mood for such trivialities.

Ra-Barra’veth led the first officer towards a large, open door alcove beneath a plaque which read ‘Infirmary’.

“Look at this,” pointed Ra-Barra’veth, indicating towards what appeared to be a black, charred burn on wall to the left of the entranceway.

“What is it?” asked Letina Iyal, fearing that she could already guess the answer.

“A phaser burn,” replied the science officer dryly.

Commander Iyal surveyed the area around her. The entranceway to the Infirmary was shaped as a great, wide trapezoid, no doubt to allow casualties or staff easy passage in an emergency. The doors were half-opened, having being unlocked by the away team using manual release. The area around the Infirmary was a junction for corridors, three separate walkways all leading to the medical area.

“Are there signs of phaser burns elsewhere on the outpost?” asked Iyal, unsettled at the prospect of a shoot-out at the entrance to an infirmary.

“Another phaser burn has been found on the level beneath us,” replied Ra-Barra’veth, worried yet maintaining an air of self-assured professionalism. “There was also a surprising development.”

Letina Iyal followed the science officer into the Infirmary and studied the interior of the medical area. Empty biobeds protruded from the wall on her right. A central biobed and workstation occupied the middle of the room. The left-hand side of the Infirmary contained desks, research apparatus and storage units. The two officers made their way to a research station.

“What do you notice about this vial?” asked Ra-Barra’veth, picking a small container from the work surface.

Letina Iyal shook her head, unsure as to the point the silver-haired Efrosian was making.

“How about this dish?”

Ra-Barra’veth held another small vessel in front of the face of the executive officer.

Again, Letina appeared perplexed.

“What about this?” Ra-Barra prized open one of the storage units and revealed to the commander an assortment of test-tubes and glass vessels. “They are all empty, commander.”

Letina Iyal picked an item from the storage unit and held it before her eyes, inspecting the container for herself. It appeared not only empty but bone dry.

“What did this storage unit contain?” asked Letina, replacing the test-tube.

Ra-Barra’veth indicated to a PADD on the work surface and answered, “Blood samples.”


* * *


The middle-aged Cardassian doctor, Lenor, was seated at a desk in the Cybernetics Laboratory on Outpost Arcadia. This was the domain of the venerable scientist and former Starfleet admiral, Professor Bruce Maddox. The PADDs and jottings of the renowned cyberneticist provided her with more than enough material to probe and investigate in order to learn about the android being held on the Destiny.

Marcus Owai inspected the two inanimate metallic bodies heaped in thick black netted hammocks. In his hand he held a PADD, which he consulted, looking from the automaton shells to the script.

“Maddox calls these Daystrom-1 and Daystrom-2,” announced Owai, consulting the PADD. “These are his failed prototypes - now just empty shells - but beyond some quaint diagrams, there isn’t really much more to go on.”

Owai placed the PADD on a tabletop and clenched his fist in frustration, cursing, “If only he kept personal logs…”

Dr Lenor seemed enthralled in her investigation of the professor’s desk.

“Noonien Soong, Anthony Haftel, Ira Graves…he has some of the finest pieces of work from some of the most esteemed cyberneticists just sitting on his desk,” remarked Lenor, prying through piles of PADDs.

Marcus Owai could not help but feel that there was something missing from this workspace.

The only personal touch was the wall above his desk, a monument to his various awards, certificates and achievements. There were no pictures of his family, no personal effects, no mementos or souvenirs. There was nothing to suggest that Bruce Maddox even existed beyond the confines of his laboratory.

Except one painting.

“Do you recognise this planet?” asked Marc Owai, pointing to the work of art.

Lenor looked up from a PADD and studied the painting on the wall. The illustration was too sharp to have been produced by hand. Though Lenor did not deny it was an impressive print. The planet was not familiar. There was a passing resemblance to Earth but also a red tinge in the skies. Lenor rose from her seat and stepped closer to the picture, studying a small inscription on the frame.

“According to this inscription the planet in Zytron Prime,” stated Dr Lenor, pausing to assimilate the information and consider the relevance. “That is very curious indeed.”

The stout Cardassian woman returned to the desk to find a PADD, holding it in the air.

“Professor Maddox refers to receiving a subspace communiqué from the Zytron Regency in his notes,” she stated. “The message concerned supplying materials for his research.”

Marc Owai folded his arms and commented, “The Zytron Regency are reclusive and historically isolationist. If Maddox has negotiated some kind of arrangement with them then he has made progress alone than the Federation has in decades.”

“The Zytron Regency is also famed for the inclusion of androids in their civil society and their technological advances in cybernetics,” added Dr Lenor, scanning the script of the PADD.

Lieutenant Owai returned his gaze to the painting and asked, vaguely and rhetorically, “If Professor Maddox was using the Zytrons to fund his research…what did the Zytrons want in return?”

The question hanged in the air as the two Starfleet officers continued their investigation of the laboratory.


* * *


Bane Mather paced around his ready room, his hands clasped behind his back as he pondered the mystery confronting him on Yolande-IV. The desktop screen in the corner of the office was glowing, actived as the captain conversed with his away team.

“We have found some phaser burns and evidence of phaser fire,” stated Commander Iyal, the chill creeping up her spine seemingly transmitted into the captain’s ready room. “But still no corpses have been located.”

Bane stroked his chin thoughtfully and asked, “How are efforts to gain entry to the emergency shelter proceeding?”

Ra-Barra’veth offered an answer, “There is a manual release system but it is encoded to prevent a hostile enemy from penetrating the shelters. We should be able to bypass the system within the hour.”

“Very well,” concluded Bane. “Keep me informed.”

The screen flickered and was replaced with the emblem of the United Federation of Planets, a default screensaver. Bane took his seat at his desk to mull over Iyal’s report but was interrupted by the sound of a door chime, alerting Bane to the presence of a caller to his ready room.

“Come!” called the captain, folding down the screen of his desktop computer.

The Cardassian doctor, Lenor, and the powerfully built human security officer, Marcus Owai, made their way into the ready room, standing before the captain’s desk.

“What did you find in Professor Maddox’s laboratory?” asked Bane Mather, leaning back in his chair.

“We have established that the android was constructed with materials supplied by the Zytron Regency,” reported Lieutenant Owai, consulting a PADD. “However, Professor Maddox did not keep personal logs and so we are unable to determine the details of potential transactions.”

Bane Mather considered the revelation, again stroking his strong chin.

“Aside from spare parts and the works of some of the finest cyberneticists in the Federation like Soong, Graves and Haftel there was little else to be found in the laboratory,” avowed Dr Lenor.

Bane decided, “In that case I want you to assist Lieutenant Nagata in interrogating the android. I will keep you informed of any other developments from the outpost.”

Dr Lenor and Marc Owai left Bane alone in his ready room, trying vainly to fit the various pieces of the mystery together.


* * *


Lieutenant Ray Nagata and Captain Bane Mather walked side-by-side through the corridors of the Destiny as the commanding officer made his way towards his quarters. They recounted the events and revelations of the past few hours in an attempt to unravel the mystery held by Outpost Arcadia.

“I can safely say that Daystrom-3 was not programmed to activate automatically,” revealed Nagata, pacing swiftly to keep up with his senior officer.

“Do you know how long the android has been online for?” asked Bane, nodding to acknowledge the few officers he recognised as they strode through the corridor.

“Since approximately zero four hundred hours,” replied the engineer, allowing Bane a moment to appreciate significance of his answer. “Daystrom-3 was activated at roughly the same time as the distress signal was transmitted from the outpost.”

Bane Mather stopped outside the door to his quarters and considered the revelation.

“If that is the case,” began Bane thoughtfully, “then this android is withholding valuable information.”

Nagata and Bane considered for the first time that the android was more than a unthinking automaton and could in fact be sinister.


* * *


Lieutenant J.G. Naomi Wildman entered the dimly-lit crew lounge and immediately made her way to the replicator. The room was deserted. Events on the surface of Yolande-IV were occupying most officers on the ship. She was due on the bridge within minutes but felt that some Ktarian herbal tea would prepare her for the upcoming shift.

“Ktarian herbal tea,” requested the young officer. “Hot!”

A steaming mug was formed on the replicator, the inviting smell instantly hitting her.

Naomi took a seat in the empty lounge, gazing through the windows at the sight of the globular mass of gases and rocks that was Yolande-IV.

Something about the lounge did not feel right. She did not feel threatened or unsettled but there was something out of place.

“Hello!” called Naomi, glancing around the comfortable, cushioned room.

“Hi,” came a small, childlike whisper.

Naomi looked over her shoulder and glanced around the room again before peering under her table.

She was not sure quite how to react but an relaxed smile seemed to meet with the approval of Freddie Bane, crouched under her table.

“What are you doing here?” asked Naomi Wildman, totally non-confrontationally.

“Hiding,” replied the young boy softly.

Naomi humoured the child, “Hiding from who?”

“I don’t know…ghosts,” answered young Freddie, as if proposing an response. “I don’t want what happened on the planet to happen here.”

Naomi Wildman patted the seat beside her and the child climbed up from beneath the table to sit beside her.

“I remember when I was a little girl on another ship,” said Naomi Wildman, her eyes alleviating the anxieties of the young boy. “It was called Voyager and I used to get scared a lot and hide under the table too.”

“What did you get scared of?” asked Freddie Bane, engrossed in the blonde lady’s tale.

“Sometimes I thought there were ghosts or monsters but they always turned out to be aliens or anomalies and we had a brave captain to defeat them.”

Freddie Bane considered Naomi’s story and asked, “What was his name?”

Her name was Captain Janeway and she would face up to any problem and see us through it. I’m sure your daddy will do the same.”

The young lady and the little boy chatted for a few minutes more and then Freddie left, receiving a kind pat on the back from Lieutenant Wildman as she briefly recollected her childhood aboard Voyager.


* * *


A detachment of officers from the Destiny had descended on Outpost Arcadia, each wearing silver Signal Amplification Units on their arms and flash beacons around their left hand wrists. Commander Letina Iyal hoped that the landing party would be able to find the evidence necessary to shed some light on the bizarre events which had taken place on Yolande-IV.

In the atrium of the outpost, Letina Iyal found her eyes fixed on a rich, colourful painting in an extravagant silver frame. The painting appeared to depict the arboretum, a garden within the confines of the outpost. The green grass, pink and yellow flowers and neatly kept grounds appeared inviting to Letina Iyal, especially when contrasted against the tumultuous atmosphere beyond the walls of the outpost. The arboretum must offer some sanctity from the radiation blasts and stormy poisonous gas clouds of in the atmosphere of Yolande-IV.

Considering the painting set off a spark in the mind of the adept executive officer.

Letina Iyal took one last look at the magnificent illustration hanging on the atrium wall and turned on her heels. She strode across the grounds and through a set of doors, advancing with a purpose.

In her mind she felt that a significant clue as to what happened in Outpost Arcadia awaited her in the arboretum.

It was if the grand painting had been drained of all colour. The arboretum was grey and hollow. There were no flowers, no plants, no picturesque gardens…simply and a cavernous, bare room, containing traces of dust and little else.

Just as Letina Iyal expected.

Her comm-badge chirped and the husky voice of Ra-Barra’veth could be heard, “Commander, we have gained entry to the emergency shelter…I think you should see this for yourself.”

Commander Iyal turned briskly and rushed through the door, her speed picking up to a quick job. She arrived at the mammoth neutronium doors to the emergency shelter, which had been prised partially open. As she approached the doors the activity of Starfleet officers, consulting PADDs and tricorders was visible. Iyal entered the emergency shelter and glanced around at the thick metal bulkheads and the glowing red panels above.

The room was wide, two levels tall and contained an extensive clutter, overturned benches, bags and articles of clothing strewn across the cold, metallic floor. Personal effects of the outpost’s occupants lay smashed and discarded at the feet of the orderly Trill officer.

Again, just as she expected.

Lieutenant Commander Ra-Barra’veth approached his commander, clipping his tricorder to his belt.

“Judging by the mess up to two hundred souls have recently used the emergency shelter but there are still no signs of biological remains,” reported Ra-Barra’veth as he surveyed the untidy, disordered emergency shelter. “It is as if there was a panic, everyone crowded into the emergency shelter and then…”

Letina Iyal kneeled down to pick up a stray boot from the mess scattered across the floor.

“This boot,” she interrupted, “is made of synthetic materials. I’m willing to bet every item of clothing here is made of synthetic materials.”

Ra-Barra’veth frowned, following his commander’s trail of thought.

“Any clothing made of organic fibres was destroyed,” said Commander Iyal, making a statement as if she had finally untangled the web. “All organic material on Outpost Arcadia was destroyed.”

Ra-Barra’veth folded his arms in front of his chest, considering the plausibility of the commander’s assumption.

“It would explain why we have yet to locate a single body and why there were no biological samples in the Infirmary,” concurred the science officer.

“I have just come from the arboretum,” recounted Commander Iyal. “There were no plants, flowers, not a single blade of grass…and I think I know why. Follow me!”

Commander Letina Iyal hurried towards the great, thick doors of the emergency shelter, followed by the silver-haired Efrosian science officer, each moving purposefully.
 
I love the mystery you’re revealing to us piece by piece. You’ve definitely caught my attention. Some of the clues are beginning to fall into place, while others remain frustratingly elusive. I admire the deft hand with which you’re spinning this terrific tale.

Your characters continue to be intriguing and absorbing, and I’m enjoying seeing these disparate people mesh into a single, unified crew. :)
 
Cassandra Bane peered through the open door to her son’s bedroom and watched her child’s chest rise and fall as he slept peacefully beneath the stars, glittering in the window. She was considering turning in herself but first she could do with a steaming hot cup of cocoa.

“How is my boy?” asked Bane Mather with a grin, as he looked up from his desk.

“Sleeping like a baby,” replied Cassandra, returning from the bedroom. “You know Lieutenant Wildman found him earlier, hiding under a table in the crew lounge.”

Bane laughed, “He can’t go far on a starship.”

Cassandra smiled and gazed over her husband’s shoulder at his desktop computer.

“So what’s all this?” she enquired, nodding towards the screen.

“I have twenty officers reviewing the personal logs of everyone from Outpost Arcadia,” explained Bane, failing to take his eyes off the desktop computer screen. “I thought I should pitch in as well.”

“Sounds like thirsty work,” commented the slim brunette as she made her way towards the replicator. “You could do with some cocoa yourself.”

Bane Mather smiled at his wife and returned to work while she prepared his drink. He tapped a control on his desktop computer and the log entry of a Starfleet ensign played on the screen. The image of a youthful officer with neatly combed hair and a wide smile was set into motion.

Bane watched intently as the officer, whom he presumed was now dead, gave a light-hearted account of his day - a snapshot into life on Outpost Arcadia before the mysterious disaster.

“We are forecasting clear weather throughout the night and long into tomorrow, so it looks like the test flights for the new shuttlecraft can go ahead.”

Bane paused the recording.

Forecasting clear weather?

“Is something wrong, Mather?” asked Cassandra, as she brought a tray of drinks over to the desk.

Bane stroked his chin thoughtfully, “Perhaps.”

“Anything I can help you with?”

Bane rubbed his temples as if coaxing an answer from his mind.

“In this log entry a shuttle pilot says that he is forecasting clear weather all through the night and into the next day,” said Bane too caught up in his supposition to accept his cocoa. “When we received the distress signal we put the poor quality of the message down to atmospheric interference.”

“Are you saying there is another reason for the signal being distorted?” posed Cassandra, sipping her husband’s mug of cocoa rather than let it go to waste.

“Yes, I am,” Bane affirmed, exploring a whole new line of thought. “If it wasn’t atmospheric interference then it must be artificial interference.”

Bane Mather’s eyes grew wide as his theory snowballed in his head but his positing was interrupted.

“Wildman to Bane,” came the voice of the Operations Manager from the intercom. “A situation is developing on the bridge, a number of decks are reporting malfunctions.”

“Damn it!” cursed the Bajoran captain, a wave of realization sweeping through his body as he slammed his fist against his desk. “Lieutenant, I want you to start withdrawing the away team from Yolande-IV. I’m on my way to the bridge!”

Cassandra Bane watched as her husband rose from the desk and rushed through the sliding doors, on his way to the bridge. In her mind she suspected that she had arrived at the same alarming conclusion as Mather, causing her heart to sink slowly.


* * *


Commander Letina Iyal and Lieutenant Commander Ra-Barra’veth rushed through the glowing red corridors of Outpost Arcadia, the Efrosian science officer struggling to keep up with his determined Trill superior.

“Transporter Room to Iyal,” came a voice from her comm-badge. “The captain has ordered the away team to be withdrawn immediately. Prepare for transport.”

Iyal slapped her comm-badge as the two officers continued trudging through the interior of the outpost and commanded, “Begin transporting the rest of the away team but do not beam out myself or Mr Ra-Barra’veth until you have my explicit approval.”

“Commander,” replied the transporter operator from the ship in orbit, “the captain’s orders were quite clear.”

“So are mine, chief,” retorted the resolute commander.

Letina Iyal pulled the manual release for a door and led Ra-Barra’veth through the alcove, into another corridor, continually picking up pace until the officers were racing to a destination known only to the commander.

“What exactly are we looking for?” asked Ra-Barra’veth, the more mature officer showing the first signs of breathlessness at their fast pace.

Letina Iyal unclipped a tricorder from her belt whilst manipulating the manual release of another, larger doorway. Ra-Barra’veth assisted her in prizing open the great doors, revealing the interior of the outpost’s shuttle hangar.

“I want you to set your tricorder to scan for Type-F Baryons,” asserted Letina Iyal as she shouldered her way through the opening in the doorway, followed by the science officer.

Ra-Barra’veth complied but was aware of the urgency of the captain’s request that the whole away team return to the ship.

“Type-F Baryons are a natural side-effect to warp travel,” stated Ra-Barra, looking up from his tricorder. “If you intend to locate them, I suggest we conduct a scan of a warp capable shuttlecraft at a sub-atomic level.”

Letina Iyal was already hovering around a dull, stationary, lifeless shuttle, probing the nacelles with her tricorder.

“Way ahead of you,” was all the commander had to say.


* * *


Captain Bane Mather purposefully strode onto the bridge whilst Lieutenant J.G. Naomi Wildman, the half-Ktarian officer ran her fingertips along the her console. Bane immediately made his way to the Ops station and stood over the young officer’s shoulder.

“Sir,” reported Wildman, “we are detecting irregularities in the starboard warp nacelle and power shortages in Decks 23 - 29.”

Bane Mather was becoming increasingly agitated though he would not allow himself to display any physical signs of worry.

“Has the away team returned to the ship?” asked Captain Bane in a reassuring calm yet authoritative manner.

“Only Commander Iyal and Lieutenant Commander Ra-Barra’veth remain in Outpost Arcadia,” responded the Ops officer as she consulted her readouts.

Bane Mather tapped his comm-badge as he took a seat in the command chair and projected his voice, “Commander, we’re withdrawing the entire away team from the outpost…that includes you.”

“I just need a few seconds more, sir,” came the reply from the first officer. “I have a theory. I believe that the occupants of Outpost Arcadia were eradicated with a Baryon Sweep.”

Bane paused, considering the hypothesis proposed by his second-in-command.

A Baryon Sweep!

It would explain everything. No bodies remained because a Baryon Sweep would have destroyed all organic material. The only traces of clothing found consisted of synthetic fibres. Plant-life would have been destroyed and without the appropriate safeguards the computer core would have been seriously damaged.

All the pieces were falling into place, thought Bane. However, there was an acid test!

Type-F Baryon radiation was a natural side-effect of warp travel. Commander Iyal must no doubt have concluded that she should locate a warp capable shuttlecraft and establish whether or not there was an absence of Type-F Baryon particles.

“I presume you are in the shuttle bay,” posed Bane Mather, emerging from his period of thought.

“Aye, sir,” responded his first officer. “We still just need a few seconds more.”

Wildman interrupted, clearly roused, glancing over her shoulder, “Captain, Deck 29 is reporting a total power loss!”

Bane nodded and tapped his comm-badge again, “A situation is developing onboard, commander. I have to pull you both out of there.”

“No!” protested the stubborn first officer. “Give me just a few more seconds!”

“There’s no time, commander,” shot back Bane as he tapped a button in the arm of his chair. “Transporter Room! Energize!”

The bridge was increasingly a hive of activity as officers set to work with more vigour and more frantically. Tension was building all around Bane as he pulled together the various strands of the mystery in his mind and tied them together into one possible…and the most probable solution.

The hiss of the turbo lift doors alerted Bane Mather to the return of Letina Iyal and Ra-Barra’veth from the planet’s surface. The away team was now all aboard the vessel.

“What’s going on?” asked the livid first officer as she marched towards the central command chairs.

“We are experiencing power losses on the lower decks and disruption to the ship’s systems,” recounted Bane, aware of the Trill’s inappropriate tone but far too engrossed in the emergency to distract himself with the long overdue question of discipline.

“You should have allowed me just a few more seconds to complete my scans,” complained Iyal, frustrated that she had to compete with Lieutenant Wildman’s reports for the captain’s attention.

Bane Mather rose from his chair, walked by the first officer and stood between the Ops and Flight Control stations, examining the read outs on both consoles.

“Captain Vran would never have interfered with an away mission in such a manner!” barked Commander Iyal.

Bane turned to his XO, his face red with anger for the first time since he set foot on the Destiny yet his poise remained composed as should be expected from a Starfleet captain.

“That is a bare-faced lie and you know it, commander,” said Bane assertively. “This ship is in danger and I expect the co-operation of my first officer…as Captain Vran would have.”

Letina Iyal felt an inch tall as the Bajoran captain glowered at her, she lowered her head and her frustration gave way to a sense of shame.

“Malfunctions are now being reported on Deck 22,” said Naomi Wildman, reading from the screen on her console.

“Those are not malfunctions, lieutenant,” stated Captain Bane tenaciously. “It is a dampening field.”

With such a startling revelation the focus of the officer’s in the bridge moved from the tension between the captain and his first officer to their individual tasks and duties. A potentially volatile situation was unfolding as the fate of two hundred innocent lives on Yolande-IV threatened to seize the USS Destiny.

“Helm, break orbit!” ordered Bane Mather as he took his seat again in his captain‘s chair. “Tactical, raise shields and go to red alert!”
 
Ok finally caught up on this. A Baryon sweep, huh? I have no idea what that means or how that could have happened but I'm sure you'll tell us soon enough.

Right now it seems Destiny is going to have more serious problems at hand and its not just an uncoperative first officer.

Awesome job at upping the tension here!
 
You do a good job handling the interpersonal conflict between the captain and first officer while at the same time ratcheting the danger to ship and crew. It'll be interesting seeing how many people get killed before the first officer gets her act together.
 
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