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Star Trek II: Jack Bauer

All new...all exciting...and all STAR TREK!

When forces align to undermine and destroy the Federation of the 24th century, Admiral Picard and Admiral Janeway look to the 21st Century for salvation; JACK BAUER!!!!

Coming soon!!!

(warning, these events take place in real time!)
 
I'm going to wait and see where 24 ends this years. Once that is done, then we'll go from there. But I had real fun doing this last time and so I'm going to do it again. Someone suggested I put it in the XI universe. So I have to think about that as well. But it fits well in the Berman universe too..so we'll see

Rob
 
The first episode of STAR TREK II: JACK BAUER will serve the same purpose that last season's mini-tv movie served for 24. It was called REDEMPTION and set up last season's 24 quite well.

STAR TREK II: Jack Bauer will premier as part of this month's "challenge of Redemption". I mean, why not???

So, stay tuned for that and it will set up the coming epic tale!!! And guess what I will be redeeming? The Doomsday Machine of course..

Rob
 
jackdooms2.jpg


I had intended this as part of the Redemption challenge here at BBS. But, unfortunately, it would violate some of the conditions of the challenge. No biggy. I wanted to redeem something other than a villain and went with the Doomsday Machine instead.

It was cold, dark, and dungy, and it was becoming harder for him to breath, and all he could do was wait; wait to die. His name was KataQ, and he was a Klingon warrior. He was dying because no matter how much anti-radiation medicine hypos he used on himself it wasn’t enough to stop the radiation that was all around him from seeping past his contamination suit into his lungs, into his skin. And because of this, he was dying.

But he had to hold on; he had to reach inside his warrior mettle and find the inner core of his soul. He had to push himself to live because the information he had in his possession was vital to not only to the survival of the Klingon Empire, but the Federation as well. He had killed several other Klingons to obtain the information, and he had fled across several sectors, and this place of death was the only place he could find a secure place to die. And it was ironic that he would die in such a place.

He had remembered hearing about his eventual tomb years ago when he was attached to the diplomatic core of the Klingon Empire. He had worked directly with Chancellor Martok, and had an above average working relationship with the Federation Ambassador, Worf. Worf had told KataQ about the "planet killer". How it had wondered into Federation space many decades ago, and had been deactivated by none other than the legendary James T Kirk. And now, all these years later, KataQ found himself dying inside a device that had nearly destroyed the Rigel system; it was ironic indeed.

KataQ had planned his escape route well, and had been able to send a coded message off to his contact in the Federation to meet him at the planet killer. KataQ had valuable information about and impending plot to bring down the Federation, and Klingon Empire. The information was incomplete, and only someone in the Federation would be able to make sense of it. But others had found out about his snooping, and had been one step behind KataQ as he made his way out of Klingon space into Federation space. After stopping off on several worlds to cover his tracks, including Rigel-7, KataQ had finally made it too the planet killer. He knew for quite sometime that it had now become a suicide mission; but he had long ago decided to give his life it meant saving the Empire; that time had come.

The planet killer had once, for a time, been surrounded by a network of probes. They had been set there to monitor the robot monster. But over the decades the probes had been reassigned, and now the planet killer was nothing more than an occasional tourist stop.

The moment KataQ had piloted his craft inside the maul of the planet killer, the radiation warnings had sounded off inside his ship. He had already put the anti-radiation suit on, but it didn’t matter. Even though the planet killer had been deactivated for over a century, the radiation levels were still deadly. He switched on suit’s small force field and exited his ship. The maul was large and very awe inspiring. Who had built it and why had been a great mystery (even on the BBS board). As he looked out at the vastness of space, he felt a spasm of dizziness. He was running out of time.

And then, seconds later, the transmitter beeped loudly. Someone was trying to contact him on the coded frequency; hopefully the time had come. He responded with a coded message.

“This is Bishop; do you have it?” A voice asked.

“I have it,” KataQ replied, “You must hurry. I will not live much longer.”

“We have a complication,” Bishop replied.

“What kind of complication?” KataQ asked.

And then, in the distance, KataQ saw the complication. A Romulan Warbird!!

“Romulans,” KataQ said softly. “How did (to continue with this exciting first segment, please follow this link, and thanks)
 
Writer's note...

I have gotten a few Emails asking if I am going to continue with this story. I am indeed. I just want to see where Jack Bauer ends up at the end of the current season of 24. So..hang in there...

Rob
 
(This is a re-issue of the first segment of this story. Its been over a month/half since I released it (as one of those challenges) but wanted to wait and see how 24 ended before I carried on...now I can. This story will be updated once a week...so stay-tuned. Jack Bauer is back!!! And the 25th century has never seen thing quite like him before!!)

jackbauer001.jpg


It was cold, dark, and dungy, and it was becoming harder for him to breath, and all he could do was wait; wait to die. His name was KataQ, and he was a Klingon warrior. He was dying because no matter how much anti-radiation medicine hypos he used on himself it wasn’t enough to stop the radiation that was all around him from seeping past his contamination suit into his lungs, into his skin. And because of this, he was dying.

But he had to hold on; he had to reach inside his warrior mettle and find the inner core of his soul. He had to push himself to live because the information he had in his possession was vital to not only to the survival of the Klingon Empire, but the Federation as well. He had killed several other Klingons to obtain the information, and he had fled across several sectors, and this place of death was the only place he could find a secure place to die. And it was ironic that he would die in such a place.

He had remembered hearing about his eventual tomb years ago when he was attached to the diplomatic core of the Klingon Empire. He had worked directly with Chancellor Martok, and had an above average working relationship with the Federation Ambassador, Worf. Worf had told KataQ about the "planet killer". How it had wondered into Federation space many decades ago, and had been deactivated by none other than the legendary James T Kirk. And now, all these years later, KataQ found himself dying inside a device that had nearly destroyed the Rigel system; it was ironic indeed.

KataQ had planned his escape route well, and had been able to send a coded message off to his contact in the Federation to meet him at the planet killer. KataQ had valuable information about and impending plot to bring down the Federation, and Klingon Empire. The information was incomplete, and only someone in the Federation would be able to make sense of it. But others had found out about his snooping, and had been one step behind KataQ as he made his way out of Klingon space into Federation space. After stopping off on several worlds to cover his tracks, including Rigel-7, KataQ had finally made it too the planet killer. He knew for quite sometime that it had now become a suicide mission; but he had long ago decided to give his life it meant saving the Empire; that time had come.

The planet killer had once, for a time, been surrounded by a network of probes. They had been set there to monitor the robot monster. But over the decades the probes had been reassigned, and now the planet killer was nothing more than an occasional tourist stop.

The moment KataQ had piloted his craft inside the maul of the planet killer, the radiation warnings had sounded off inside his ship. He had already put the anti-radiation suit on, but it didn’t matter. Even though the planet killer had been deactivated for over a century, the radiation levels were still deadly. He switched on suit’s small force field and exited his ship. The maul was large and very awe inspiring. Who had built it and why had been a great mystery (even on the BBS board). As he looked out at the vastness of space, he felt a spasm of dizziness. He was running out of time.

And then, seconds later, the transmitter beeped loudly. Someone was trying to contact him on the coded frequency; hopefully the time had come. He responded with a coded message.

“This is Bishop; do you have it?” A voice asked.

“I have it,” KataQ replied, “You must hurry. I will not live much longer.”

“We have a complication,” Bishop replied.

“What kind of complication?” KataQ asked.

And then, in the distance, KataQ saw the complication. A Romulan Warbird!!

“Romulans,” KataQ said softly. “How did (to continue with this exciting first segment, please follow this link, and thanks)
 
docks1a.jpg



They say that an animal is at its most dangerous when it has been wounded. Its most basic instincts come to front, and it lives each moment as if it’s a life and death struggle. What about a wounded man? Men are civilized, and even though they may find themselves wounded, and in agonizing pain, they can over come their instinctive nature. Jack Bauer was a wounded man. He had been stabbed, beaten, and was now a fugitive.

He was a man without a country. In the past twenty-six hours he had killed a Russian diplomat, and several others, Americans and Russians alike, trying to bring justice to a situation that had spiraled out of anyone’s control.

New York had now become his hiding place. Overpopulation was one of the Big Apple’s greatest challenges, but in this case, it provided Jack Bauer a cover. Though New York was covered with surveillance cameras on most crowded streets, no doubt one of the continuing effects of 911, Jack was skilled on how to avoid them.

He dared not call his daughter for assistance, knowing that those who were out to harm him would monitor her relentlessly, hoping she could lead them to her father. Nor could Jack contact his good friend, Chloe Obrian. She had been the one person who had been by Jack’s side, for most of the past several years, breaking rule upon rule to keep Jack alive, and ahead of the game. But he had to let her go too; he had to let his entire life go.

He had done it before, disappeared. Several years ago he had faked his death to avoid capture by the Chinese government, only to be drawn back out into the open when his good friend, former President David Palmer, and others, had been killed. This time it was different; he was still alive, and they knew it.

Two hours had passed since Jack had told Chloe goodbye. It was the first two hours of an existence, his new existence that would now have to be lived out behind the shadows of civilization. And although New York would provide him enough time to gather his senses, one thing was for sure; he had to get out of the big city eventually. In fact, he had decided to not only leave New York, but to leave the United States as a whole.

With a hand held eye piece, Jack stood behind a cluster of pallets and focused his attention on a small gun store located near the docks of New York harbor. Jack had met many people, during his career at CTU, many of whom went back to their normal lives after meeting him. Once such chance meeting was with the man who owned the gun store, a man named Safa.
--
A “24” moment;

Years ago, Jack, who had valuable intelligence, had been forced to fend for his life inside a gun store near Los Angeles. Safa, and his older brother, Naji, both who had immigrated to the United States from the middle-east, owned the gun store and willingly helped Jack fend off the attackers.
--
There were only two customers in the gun store, but Jack didn’t want to risk being recognized, and so he waited for the two customers to leave. Ten minutes passed, and finally the men exited the store. Jack, still in pain from being stabbed earlier, quickly made his way to the store before another customer showed up. Jack darted into the store and then he flipped the open sign over, which was hanging on the door, so that the closed side of the sign was viewable to any perspective customers.

Jack walked over to the counter, just as Safa came out from the office. Immediately Safa recognized Jack.

“Jack Bauer!” Safa said, with a concerned look. “What are you doing here my friend?”

“Where’s your brother?” Jack asked, instead of answering Safa’s questions.

“Naji is still in Los Angeles,” Safa replied. “I wish he were here so he could see you again. How have you been?”

“Actually, that’s why I’m here; I need your (please continue the story by following this link..and thanks)
 
STAR TREK II:
JACK BAUER
"Kick the Can"


2382; Alpha Quadrant;

Wesley Crusher brought the shuttlecraft down through the atmosphere and soon Captain Riker pointed to a small clearing near a cluster of small hills. The planet was M-Class, and supported a small population of primitive life forms. As the shuttle came to a landing, Riker pointed toward a wall of trees nearby.

“There’s a ship over there,” Riker told Wesley, who struggled to see what Riker was pointing at. “Look, just beyond the first cluster of trees.”

“You’re right,” Crusher said. “Looks like a scout class vessel of some kind. Those ships are pretty fast, and, obviously, very easy to hide. I wonder who it belongs to.”

“And it’s pretty small too,” Riker added. “I bet it barely holds one person, and the cockpit most likely acts as sleeping quarters, with the rest of the ship nothing more than two small warp engines. I doubt it has any kind of weapons.”

“Those are small engines, but I bet she can push warp 9.5,” Wesley marveled, as he powered down the shuttle. “Why does someone even use one of those?”

Riker had his suspicions. The owner was most likely either a spy, or someone who made a living out of delivering high valued data. Criminal elements, weary that all communications were observed, used such methods so as not to leave a trail of transmissions records. Riker knew that they had come to this world to meet a courier of some kind. What he didn’t know was who that person was, and why the secrecy was so needed.

“Well, Wes, we didn’t come all the way here to look at trees and roast marsh mellows,” Riker told his young friend.

“You haven’t really told me why we’re here,” Lt. Commander Crusher said to Riker. “I guess that is part of that Captain’s discretion I keep hearing about. Sometimes I still feel like I’m still a child sitting at the children’s table at a family get together.”

“Trust me, Wes,” Riker replied, “I long for the days when I sat at that table. Enjoy it while you can. And as for why we’re here?” Riker decided to let Wesley in on what they were doing. “Last week I received a message, a coded message. It was captain’s eyes only and the gist of the message was that I come to this world and meet a courier of some kind.”

“Captain eyes only,” Crusher repeated, “but why you? Each captain has their own designated coded frequency, so how did this person get yours?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out.” Riker told him.

As they left their seats and headed towards the exit, Wesley Crusher couldn’t help but feel a little at unease. As they prepared to leave the shuttle, he asked Captain Riker one more question.

“Does Commander Vale know about this cryptic message?” Crusher asked softly.

“Welcome to the big people’s table,” Riker replied, with a grin, and in a serious tone. “And no,” he added, “she doesn’t know about the signal; not yet at least.”

Several minutes later, and after surveying the area, Riker and Crusher came upon an opening in the rock wall of one of the hills. After entering the opening, they came across a spider web of tunnels that led in all sorts of directions.

“Someone could really get lost in here,” Crusher said softly.

“That’s probably why we’re here,” Riker agreed. “In fact; a place like this would be a great venue for a game of kick-the-can.”

“Kick the what?” Crusher asked, as he and Riker made their way deeper into the myriad of caves.

“Its pretty much like hide-and-seek,” Riker explained, “No one wants to be the seeker in the next round, and so to avoid that, you have to kick-the-can, if you’re one of the hiders, before the seeker does. If he kicks it before you, then you’re the seeker in the next round.”

“Sounds kind of,” Wesley searched for the right words, “basic. Where’s the strategy?”

“Wes, it’s a game best played by teenagers, usually at night time.” Riker said with a look of melancholy in his eyes. “While hiding with your girl friend, you can do, how should I say it, you can do other things, until your hiding place is found.” Riker arched his eyes brows quickly, with a leering smile. “Know what I mean?”

“Oh,” Wesley said, realizing what Riker was alluding to. “I never played that game, but I can see why it would be fun.”

Riker knew that Wesley’s younger years were spent as a shy child, devoid of any real contact with girls. He felt sorry for Wes, but then again, playing kick-the-can with eager young girls wasn’t without its pitfalls. Riker was about to recall one such incident, but before he could, a voice came from deep in the tunnel.

“Stop where you are,” the voice said.

Riker and Crusher came to a stop.

“State your name,” the voice said.

“My name is William T Riker, Captain of the USS Titan,” Riker announced. “I am accompanied by Lt. Commander Wesley Crusher.”

Suddenly, stepping out from behind a twist in the tunnel was a man holding a weapon.

“There’s no need for weapons,” Riker told the man, who stood nearly twenty feet away.

“Excuse me,” the man said, “but I don’t trust anyone. Trust, in my line of business, can lead to death.”

“I understand,” Riker came back with. “But it was you who sought me out; why?”

The man took out a data chip from his pant pocket.

“My name is Bishop,” Bishop said. “I went through great lengths to get this data chip. The Klingon who gave it to me also paid me handsomely to deliver it to you.”

“That is interesting,” Riker came back with, “but why me?”

“Because you can get it to Picard,” Bishop answered.

“Admiral Picard?” Crusher asked.

“Quiet boy,” Bishop snapped.

“Alright, I’m here, so give it to me,” Riker said to Bishop, “and I’ll get it to Admiral Picard.”

Suddenly Riker’s communicator chirped. He pressed the communication device which was on the left side of his chest.

“Riker here,” Riker said allowed.

“Commander Vale here,” the female’s voice responded.

“What is it commander?” Riker, eyeing Bishop as he did, asked his first officer.

“Wil; Sensors have detected an approaching ship,” Vale told him, “a Negh’Var class Klingon warship.”

“Damn,” Bishop said. “They found me.”

“Who was that?” Vale asked.

“Christine, don’t worry about that for now,” Riker told her. “Try to contact the Klingons and find out why they are here. I’ll get back to you in a moment or two.”

Riker could only wonder what was happening.

“Alright,” Riker said to Bishop, “what is going here? Why do you think the Klingons are here for you?”
--
At that moment the Negh’Var ship fired a spray of disrupter blasts at the planet.
--

“Look,” Bishop said, “I do this for a living, and I know when things are spiraling out of control. Whatever is on this chip, others are willing to kill for. The Klingon hired me to get you this data chip, I’ve done my part, so here,” Bishop flung it over to Riker. “So take this and…”

Suddenly chaos erupted, as the disrupter blasts struck near the crop of small hills. Massive portions of the cave system caved in. Riker and Wesley pressed up against the cave wall they were next to, and could only watch in horror as a large rock, nearly the size of a shuttle, collapsed in and crushed Bishop, smashing his skull into the ground, crushing it and killing Bishop instantly.

“We have to get out of here!” Riker said to Wesley as the cave in continued. “Look,” Riker said, pointing to an opening in the cave wall up ahead. “Looks like a new way out was created by the cave in.”

“Let’s go,” Wesley said, as he took Riker by the arm and led him to the new exit.

“You don’t have to do hold me by the arm,” Riker said to Crusher.

“If it’s all the same, let me worry about you; that is why I am here, Captain Riker,” Wesley struggled to yell, as the ground began to quake, due to other cave ins, making loud smashing sounds, which they could hear in the distance.

Finally, emerging from the cave in, Riker and Crusher made their way towards the shuttle, when suddenly a blast from the sky struck the shuttle, destroying it.

“What the hell is going on up there?” Riker asked.

“Sir,” Wesley said, pointing at the scout class vessel which was still hidden in the trees.

“Good idea Wes,” Riker said, “let’s do it.”

The two Starfleet officers ran for the hidden tree, just as two more blasts hit the small hillside they had just exited moments before.

Their description of the small scout class vessel had been more correct (please follow this link to continue)
 
Great story. However, I am sad that we have to wait a month - lol!
You've portrayed Riker just like in the TV series of TNG :)
 
pryan.jpg




The not to distant future…201?

The Pryan was just one of your ordinary Handymax-class freighters. At a length of 656 feet, and with five cargo holds, Pryan was one of the largest freighters in the world, with nearly 60,000 metric deadweight tons to push over the oceans of the world.

One of the busiest areas in ocean transit was between Australia and Japan. The ocean area between the two destinations could be as calm as far as the eye could see, or tossing and turning. Even a large ship like the Pryan wasn’t immune the swelling ocean beneath it. It was this swelling motion, up and down, that caused most to have sea sickness. Even for those who had spent most their lives on the sea, the motion sickness was hard, at times, to tolerate.

For a vessel as large as the Pryan, there was a crew of fifty-three. Normally the crew size was, at best, thirty. But with the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq still rumbling on, the Pryan was tasked, on this run at least, with a military shipment, which meant a small contingent of marines were aboard as well. Though support for the war split about fifty/fifty between the crew, the $18000 bonus, for each man, meant that politics were out weighed by money. Most of the men had families to support, or, vices. And $18000 could do much for both.

Jack Bauer had been a member of the Pyran’s crew for nearly a year and a half. Of course, no one knew that Jack Bauer was his real name. In order to keep a lower profile, and to evade possible rogue mercenaries sent to find him, Jack Bauer had assumed the name of Luke Keller. He had also grown a beard, so as to better obscure his face. And as he stood watch, which each crewmember was required to do twice a week, Jack welcomed the stormy sea that was gently rocking the ship up and down.

The rain wasn’t as hard as it could have been, and had been on his last watch standing, which meant that Jack could stroll around the deck without the fear of being tossed over board. As he puffed on a cigarette in his mouth, Jack made sure the tether lines on one of the four cranes were secure. Most damage done to freighters was caused by cranes that were not properly secured. This meant that as a watch stander, when most of the crew was sleeping, it was part of Jack’s duty to make sure the cranes were secured. He wasn’t the only one on watch. There were twelve others as well, each paying detailed attention to the cranes on the main deck. Confident the crane was secured, Jack walked on. Up ahead he saw his friend Gordy.

Gordy was a large Blackman. On the outside, Gordy gave off the ‘don’t talk to me or die’ vibe. But he and Jack had become friends due to their love of Dominos, and pictures of topless women. Gordy stood nearly at six feet seven, and was as wide as a door. Gordy didn’t smoke cigarettes when the ship was at sea. He preferred weed. And, as Jack approached his good friend, he could see the pinprick glare at the tip of a joint, as Gordy breathed it in.

“Hey Luke,” Gordy said as Jack approached the bulkhead that Gordy was leaning against. “What the fuck you doing wearing that shit?” Gordy asked, pointing at Jack’s flimsy pair of running shoes. “Ain’t I told you before that that wearing shit can get you killed on a ship like this?”

They were both shielded from the rain by a large stack of empty crates and pallets. A small mist was still making its way down to them, but at least it wasn’t the spray of rain.

“I know,” Jack replied. “But I lost my fucking boots to Jimmy last night playing Halo.”

Gordy shook his head.

“Halo,” Gordy said dismissively. “Faggot game. Man, when I started doing this shit, it was Dominos, Spades, and Poker. The chincs would throw dice, but that was about it.”

“Well,” Jack said, “times have changed. I actually think you could get into a game like Halo.”

Gordy laughed, and when he laughed, the ship seemed to rumble just a little bit more.

“Keep trying,” Gordy said with a wide smile. “But as I told you last time, if I’m not up here doing this shit, I’m in my rack reading.”

“Who are you reading now?” Jack asked.

Gordy reached into his back pocket and retrieved a worn out paper back book. On the cover was the title; Vixen 3.

“I’m reading some cat named Clive (to continue on, please follow this LINK...)
 
engage.jpg



In the not so distant future; 201?

On board the strange flying ship, high above the freighter, were two men. One of them, sporting a beard, looked at the other, and they both looked at the freighter below. The stormy sky had cleared just enough to allow the moonlight to cast a glow on the vessel below.

“Jack Bauer is down there?” One of the men asked.

“I hope so, Wes,” the other man responded. “Or we came a long way for nothing.”

Will Riker, and Wesley Crusher, had indeed arrived in the 21st Century…

--

Twenty minutes earlier…hundreds of years in the future!!!

“Can you fly this thing?” Lt. Commander Wesley Crusher asked excitedly, as the Neg’var class Klingon warship closed in on their position.

“Well,” Captain Riker said, as he quickly looked over the control panel before him, “it looks simple enough. I just want to make sure…”

Wesley looked at his own control panel, and relayed the bad news.

“They’ve got a lock on us Captain,” Wesley announced to Riker. “And I don’t think this little ship is going to survive one blast.” Wesley gulped as he looked up from his panel and saw his possible harbinger of death; a disrupter blast streaked out from the Neg’var, and was heading straight for them!

“Oh,” Wesley searched for the appropriate word, and remembered the story Riker had once told about Data, and the one word their android friend had once used upon facing an almost certain destruction, “shit!”

Then, suddenly, the strange ship Riker and Wesley had conscripted began to accelerate at an incredible speed.

“What button did you push?” Wesley asked, as the ship went faster and faster, out running the disrupter blast in the process.

“That one,” Captain Riker said as he pointed as the biggest button, which was also flashing red, and was labeled warp speed.

Wesley saw Riker’s finger pointing at the large button, all the while smiling at Wes in the process.

“What took you so long sir?” Wesley asked, wondering why they had faced death, and all his Captain had to do was press the button.

“Oh come on Wes, you must know by now,” Riker said as his smile turned into a sly grin, “I like living on the edge.”

“Oh, that’s all,” Wesley said, feigning relief.

The small ship sleek ship had easily attained warp speed. But their attacker, the much larger Neg’var warship, was still in hot pursuit.

“What do you think is going on?” Wesley asked. “First it was the Romulans trying to kill Bishop, and now it’s the Klingons finishing the job, and now, coming after us.”

Riker studied the data crystal which Bishop had given up his life for.

“There’s a scanner over there,” Riker said, motioning to the device near the back of the small cockpit of the ship. “Do you think you can access this crystal?”

“I’m not sure,” Wesley replied. “Bishop said it was for Admiral Picard. Most likely it is encoded, and it could take us forever to break the code.”

Riker thought for a moment.

“The Klingons are gaining on us,” Riker announced. “I think I can hold them off for ten, maybe twenty minutes.” Captain William T Riker told Wesley. “Try to use that communication device to get a signal to the Admiral. The Enterprise is at Starbase 147, which isn’t too far from here.”

“Captain; we’ll never make it there in time,” Wesley told Riker.


“I know,” Riker said, “but maybe the Admiral can give us the code to unlock the information, and we can get it to him before, well, before we can’t. Use my priority signal.” Riker told Wesley. He also gave him the twelve digit code needed to access the signal.

Wesley left his seat, and accessed the communications array control panel. The ship had all the trappings of some kind of covert operations vessel. As Wesley accessed the functions, he asked Captain Riker the most obvious question.

“Captain Riker; do you think this ship was built by Starfleet Intelligence?” Wesley asked.

“Could be, or maybe even Section-31,” Riker agreed. “The warp drive on this ship is definitely not standard issue. Add to that the scanner, and communication’s platform, and you have to start to wonder.”

Riker didn’t like the data coming across his screen. The Neg’var was closing at a faster rate than he had anticipated.

“Wes, you’re going to have to speed it up.” Riker said in a more serious tone. “They’re closing.”

Suddenly the face of Admiral Picard appeared on Wesley’s screen.

“Lt. Commander Wesley Crusher,” Picard said with a warm smile. “While it’s very pleasant to see you, I have to remind you that using this priority signal…”

Wesley did the unimaginable and cut off his former Captain, and mentor.

“Sorry for cutting you off sir, but Captain Riker and I are going to be dead in less than five minutes if you can’t help us,” Wesley said rapidly.

Wesley quickly filled in the Admiral.

“The data crystal is asking for a simple five digit code.” Wesley informed Picard finally. “And I think you’re the one who has to say it.”

“And you better hurry,” Riker added.

“A five digit code you say?” Admiral Picard asked back. “It could take forever to come up with that…wait a moment.” Picard finally said. “I think I know what it might be.”

“Well, do tell Jean-Luc,” Riker urged his Captain.

Wesley accessed the scanner, and waited for Picard to give the code.

“Sarek,” Picard finally said.

Sure enough, the data crystal came to life, and data began to stream across the screen. It was at that moment that the Neg’var began to fire its disrupters, and the signal to Picard was jammed.

“They’re jamming us!” Riker said, as he began to take evasive maneuvers.

Wesley didn’t take time to listen to Riker. The young Lt. Commander continued to read the data that came across the screen, and then he knew exactly what had to be done. He hurried back towards his seat.

“Well?” Riker asked as he dodged the blasts of the much more powerful Neg’var. “What did you find out?”

Wesley looked at Riker, knowing that what he was about to say would sound incredible.

“Sir,” Wesley said, “we need to reverse course.” Wesley announced.

“Are you out of your mind?” Riker demanded, laughing as he asked.

“Can you do it sir?” Wesley pressed on with.

One second later, and without warning, the small ship did some tight maneuvering and zipped pass the underbelly of the Neg’var, streaking back the way they came. Riker was going to use the maneuver anyway, since it was the last trick he had up his sleeve. He knew it would take the larger ship a little longer to change course. But he also knew the Klingons would not fall for the same trick again.

“Alright,” Riker finally say to Lt. Commander Crusher, “you got your wish. Now would you mind telling me; what the hell are we doing.”

Wesley quickly explained what he had read on the data crystal. And when he was done, Riker stared blankly ahead at the blue colored sun that was at the center of the planetary system. Then the smile of a daredevil came over Riker’s face. He had always wanted to do what Wesley Crusher had suggested they do.

Sling shot.

--continued
 
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