Love the start to this one.
Star Trek: Into the Void - Season One
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Chapter One
Captain’s Log, Stardate 54506.9;
We are still docked within Starbase One-Forty-Eight. Repairs have been completed and the base’s chief engineer has given Testudo a clean bill of health. We have also taken on crew replacements. However, we have been asked to remain here for a little while longer as Admiral Gavin wants to pay us a visit. Although it was the Admiral who assigned me to the Testudo, I must admit some trepidation over his visit. We still don’t know who or what was controlling the Aora, we did locate the ship and the fate of its crew. That wasn’t the only mission assigned to us but I can’t shake the feeling that I – I’m sorry, we – are going to be reassigned from Sector 29004. I sincerely hope that I’m wrong.
Captain Isabel Cardonez exited her Ready Room to find the same bored expression on the faces of her crew that she had seen when she had locked herself away, forty-five minutes ago. Ignoring the Captain’s chair, she wandered to the upper level of the Bridge where her Chief Security and Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Adam Huntington, stood.
“Any news?,” she asked hopefully.
“No, sir,” he replied with a slight smile. “I did say that I’d let you know if we got a message from the Admiral.”
“I see that my impatience amuses you?,” she asked him, a smile creasing her own face now.
“It helps take my mind off of my own impatience.”
“Any word from the Snohomish?”
“We had a transmission, a half-hour ago that they were entering the Primus system but we’ve had nothing since. We have, however, had reports of ion storm activity in the vicinity of that star system.”
“Serious?”
“Level Four on the Verek Scale but I wouldn’t worry. They should have made it to Primus III before the storm hit.”
“I hope so,” Cardonez said. “A runabout isn’t the best place to be in a Level Four storm.”
“Are you regretting your decision to let them go?”
“Not even remotely. Masafumi’s cabin fever was driving me nuts. And if she didn’t get away, Liz was going to strangle a member of the repair team.” She laughed at her own joke.
“And Lieutenant Kehen?”
“Well, they needed a pilot and you know how psyched she gets about going to new places.”
“True,” said Huntington. “Did Masafumi really think that you wouldn’t swing by Primus III before the monsoon season?”
Cardonez shook her head. “No, I didn’t think so, but he probably thought we’d get distracted and miss it by accident. I can’t say that I don’t blame him. The archaeological ruins are only accessible for a few weeks of the year.”
A light flashed on Huntington’s Tactical console and he looked down. “A ship has just entered the base. It’s hailing us.”
“It’s about time.” Cardonez moved to her command chair and as soon as she reached it, she said,” On screen.” Sitting down, she began with,” Admiral, it’s good to see you…” before she actually looked up into the face of a bronze-skinned man in his seventies with a mane of thin white hair on the top of his head.
“Thanks, but I’m afraid it’s still Captain. There’s only been one promotion in the Cardonez family lately,” he said in an accent that he hadn’t lost since he had first left his native Venezuela to join Starfleet, many decades before.
Cardonez sat, frozen in her seat for a full minute before she responded. “Hi, Dad,” she finally said.
* * * *
When Lieutenant Kehen finally regained consciousness, she immediately felt like she was being smothered and that someone was holding a pillow over her face. After a moment of panic, she realized that her feelings of claustrophobia stemmed from being inside an environmental suit. Slowly, she sat up. The main lights were still out in the runabout but the emergency lights bathed everything in a red-blood glow. Looking around, she found another figure garbed like her that was lying beside her. Slowly, fearful of what she might find, she gazed into the other person’s faceplate and discovered that it was Commander Masafumi. His eyes were closed and she strained to see if he was breathing.
“He’s ok,” came a voice from behind her. Kehen jumped, turning to find Tennyson, who was similarly dressed as her, sitting by the Engineering console. The panel underneath it was off and she appeared to be working on something. Several isolinear chips lay scattered on the floor beside her. “I gave you both a shot to counteract the methane poisoning. You might want to get Hollem to look at you when we get back,” she added while working on a chip with a micro-laser.
The Yulani woman jumped again as Masafumi sat up beside her. “Will people stop doing that?!,” she yelled.
“Sorry,” the Commander said, smiling. “Lieutenant, what’s our status?”
Tennyson put her tools down. “The hull breach was fairly small. I patched it up but our environmental systems are offline. Until I can fix them, I can’t recycle the air in here.”
Masafumi looked at the suit monitor on his left wrist. “How long will it take to repair the environmental systems?”
“Four hours. Maybe more…”
“We have around thirteen hours of air in our suits. Is there anything that we can do to help?”
“No,” Tennyson said,” you’d just get in the way.”
“Anything else that we could start on?,” he asked, trying again.
Tennyson furrowed her brow. If he just left her alone, she could get the repairs done all the more quicker. However, Masafumi was her Commanding Officer and his offer of help was genuine. “What you could do is an outside visual inspection. I need to know how badly we’ve been banged up.”
“Very well,” Masafumi said, standing up. Returning to the locker that had held their suits, he collected a pair of phasers and a pair of tricorders. “Would you care to take a stroll outside?,” he asked Kehen.
It took the Yulani a moment to realize that he was talking to her. “Me?,” she asked meekly.
“It’s not safe to go out there alone and Lieutenant Tennyson is busy,” Masafumi replied, handing a phaser and a tricorder to her.
Kehen stood with difficulty since her hands were now full. “Let me adjust my suit temperature,” she said. “It’s freezing in here.”
Seconds later and they were standing by the outer hatch. They had holstered their phasers on their belts and each held a tricorder in their hands. “Do you want to go first?,” the First Officer asked her, quite formally.
“Why do I have to go first?,” she whined.
“It wasn’t an order, Lieutenant. I merely thought that you would like to be the first person to set foot on this planet’s surface. According to Starfleet records, no one has ever visited this world.”
“Well, if you don’t mind…”
Masafumi smiled. “It’ll be an honor enough to be the second person on Primus IV.”
Kehen took a deep breath. “I guess there’s no time like the present,” she said with a nervous laugh. Pressing the door control, the door slid open and a gust of wind immediately blew a shower of snowflakes inside, including a few centimeters of snow that had already built up against the door. Stepping outside, she discovered that the snow was a few centimeters deep. She moved only a few steps outside before she swung her head around in a wide arc with her helmet-mounted lights illuminating the darkness. She saw nothing but snow, both on the ground and falling from the sky.
Masafumi followed up close behind her. “Remember. Don’t stray too far from the runabout. It would be easy to get lost out here.”
“Don’t worry. I’m staying right next to the Snohomish,” she replied. “Do you think that we should clear away some of this snow? We don’t want to get buried.”
“Good idea,” Masafumi said, drawing his phaser. He began melting the snow around the runabout. As it melted, the snow turned to steam that wafted upwards from the ground like a fog bank rolling in. Kehen suppressed a shudder. She already felt uncomfortable about this planet and this just made it seem even more eerie to her. She resolved to shake the feeling away. Neither Commander Masafumi or Lieutenant Tennyson seemed to have any misgivings about this world. She only wished that she could stop imagining mythical monsters from her youth lumbering through the mist towards her.
“Lieutenant, can you hear me?”
She blinked, feeling as if she had been miles away. “I’m sorry, Commander. What did you say?”
Masafumi was standing in front of her. She couldn’t see his face but there was worry in his voice. “I had suggested that we take opposite sides of the runabout and examine the impulse engines. However, you seem to be distracted in some way. Perhaps you’d like to go back inside?”
“I’m sorry, Commander,” she said. “It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t. In our current situation, our lives may depend on each other, staying alert.”
“Yes, sir,” Kehen said, partly angry with his condescending tone but angrier at herself over losing her concentration.
“Very well. You examine this side. I’ll examine the starboard impulse engine. Stay in contact and be careful. If this weather worsens, get back inside.”
He trudged off, leaving her mouthing insults against his grandparents in her native tongue. Quickly realizing that she was letting her mind wander again, she turned towards the rear of the runabout and approached the pylon that connected the port nacelle to the main ship. Leaning across the nacelle, she brushed ice away and she did a visual inspection of the impulse engine housed at the rear of the pylon. It appears to be undamaged so she used her tricorder and began to scan it. At that precise moment, she had a strong feeling that there was someone behind her. She turned around suddenly, losing her footing on the nacelle and dropping her tricorder. As she fell, her head moved wildly, illuminating absolutely nothing
She sat with her back up against the pylon, breathing heavily. “Zia, stop doing this to yourself!,” she chided herself, forgetting that it was an open frequency.
“Lieutenant,” Masafumi asked,” what was that?” “Nothing, sir. I was just talking to myself.”
“Kindly keep your mind on the job at hand, please. You’re talking to yourself is very distracting for me.”
“Yes, sir,” Kehen said. She looked around for a few moments before finding her tricorder which was lying a few feet away. Dropping to her hands and knees, she recovered it and checked to see if it was still functioning.
It was.
Then she turned around, still on her hands and knees. She was still looking towards the ground and all that she saw were a pair of feet that were naked and green. That was when she screamed.
Around the other side of the runabout, Commander Masafumi attempted to clasp his hands over his ears when her screen echoed within his helmet. Realizing that it was pointless, he reduced the volume setting on his suit communicator instead.
“Lieutenant, what’s wrong?,” he asked, already moving towards the opposite side of the runabout. When there was no forthcoming answer, he holstered his tricorder and drew his phaser, quickening his pace.
Kehen heard him but she didn’t seem to be able to form the words to reply to him. She was still sitting up against the warp nacelle but the feet were gone. She had no idea where they had gone. At one moment, they were there and the next, they were gone. Almost in the time that it had taken her to blink once. It was only at this stage that she looked up, half-expecting to find the body of some creature, even though its legs had obviously disappeared.
There was nothing there though. She blinked again, seeing that there was nothing but the falling snow. When she blinked for a third time, she found a darkened form that was leaning over her.
“Yagh!,” she cried out.
“Lieutenant, are you all right?” The form resolved itself into the form of Commander Masafumi.
Kehen still couldn’t speak. Instead, all that he heard was her breathing, quick and nervous. “Lieutenant?,” he asked again, shouting louder this time.
Kehen finally found her words. “A creature was standing there… It took me… by surprise. Horrible feet, and-and… it vanished. I thought this planet was uninhabited.” After losing the power of speech, she couldn’t seem to stop talking. “I got scared. I thought it was going to attack. Where were you?”
“Lieutenant, calm down,” he said, banging his hand on the top of her helmet.
Kehen shut up, except for a quiet,” Ow.”
“That’s better. Are you injured in any way?”
“No,” she replied. “It just took me by surprise.”
“The creature?,” Masafumi asked her, unable to keep the derision out of his voice.
Kehen ignored his tone when she answered. “Yes, the creature. I dropped my tricorder and when I went to collect it, I turned around and it was there. Well, it’s feet were there.”
“Why did you drop your tricorder?”
“I…” She struggled to put into words what had happened. She already knew what Masafumi would think but she continued anyway. “I felt … a presence behind me and I turned around quickly. Too quickly as it turned out. That’s when I dropped my tricorder.”
“And the creature was there?,” asked the Testudo’s First Officer. There was a wry smile on his face that was reflected in his tone of voice.
“No… There was nothing there. I told you. I only saw something when I came down here,” she replied, her temper getting short by the second.
Masafumi holstered his phaser and grabbed his tricorder. Opening it, he began to scan the area around the runabout. After a minute of scanning, he turned back to the Yulani. “The tricorder shows no sign of life on this planet. Not even single cell organisms. Perhaps you should stand up and we could continue this discussion inside?,” he said. He sounds like a patronizing grandparent, she thought as he reached a gloved hand down to help her up.
Kehen allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. “I did see something, Commander,” she insisted.
Masafumi sighed, realized that he had been quite condescending but he couldn’t accept her ghostly vision as anything but the work of an overactive imagination. “Lieutenant, I’m sure that you thought you saw something but every indication is that this planet is uninhabited,” he finally said, keeping the condescending tone out of his voice this time.
“We should get inside,” Kehen said, curtly. She turned and trudged through the snow towards the hatch.
Masafumi sighed and turned to follow her. As he did, he stopped, feeling a shiver dancing along his spine. Slowly, he turned back towards the direction that he had been facing and directed his gaze out into the darkness. Nothing was there. When he turned around to follow Kehen, he could have sworn that he saw two figures, dark and shadowy, out of the corner of his eye. Another shiver was felt but this time, he smiled.
Insanity is contagious, he thought to himself before following the Lieutenant inside.
Captain’s Log, Stardate 54506.9;
We are still docked within Starbase One-Forty-Eight. Repairs have been completed and the base’s chief engineer has given Testudo a clean bill of health. We have also taken on crew replacements. However, we have been asked to remain here for a little while longer as Admiral Gavin wants to pay us a visit. Although it was the Admiral who assigned me to the Testudo, I must admit some trepidation over his visit. We still don’t know who or what was controlling the Aora, we did locate the ship and the fate of its crew. That wasn’t the only mission assigned to us but I can’t shake the feeling that I – I’m sorry, we – are going to be reassigned from Sector 29004. I sincerely hope that I’m wrong.
Captain Isabel Cardonez exited her Ready Room to find the same bored expression on the faces of her crew that she had seen when she had locked herself away, forty-five minutes ago. Ignoring the Captain’s chair, she wandered to the upper level of the Bridge where her Chief Security and Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Adam Huntington, stood.
“Any news?,” she asked hopefully.
“No, sir,” he replied with a slight smile. “I did say that I’d let you know if we got a message from the Admiral.”
“I see that my impatience amuses you?,” she asked him, a smile creasing her own face now.
“It helps take my mind off of my own impatience.”
“Any word from the Snohomish?”
“We had a transmission, a half-hour ago that they were entering the Primus system but we’ve had nothing since. We have, however, had reports of ion storm activity in the vicinity of that star system.”
“Serious?”
“Level Four on the Verek Scale but I wouldn’t worry. They should have made it to Primus III before the storm hit.”
“I hope so,” Cardonez said. “A runabout isn’t the best place to be in a Level Four storm.”
“Are you regretting your decision to let them go?”
“Not even remotely. Masafumi’s cabin fever was driving me nuts. And if she didn’t get away, Liz was going to strangle a member of the repair team.” She laughed at her own joke.
“And Lieutenant Kehen?”
“Well, they needed a pilot and you know how psyched she gets about going to new places.”
“True,” said Huntington. “Did Masafumi really think that you wouldn’t swing by Primus III before the monsoon season?”
Cardonez shook her head. “No, I didn’t think so, but he probably thought we’d get distracted and miss it by accident. I can’t say that I don’t blame him. The archaeological ruins are only accessible for a few weeks of the year.”
A light flashed on Huntington’s Tactical console and he looked down. “A ship has just entered the base. It’s hailing us.”
“It’s about time.” Cardonez moved to her command chair and as soon as she reached it, she said,” On screen.” Sitting down, she began with,” Admiral, it’s good to see you…” before she actually looked up into the face of a bronze-skinned man in his seventies with a mane of thin white hair on the top of his head.
“Thanks, but I’m afraid it’s still Captain. There’s only been one promotion in the Cardonez family lately,” he said in an accent that he hadn’t lost since he had first left his native Venezuela to join Starfleet, many decades before.
Cardonez sat, frozen in her seat for a full minute before she responded. “Hi, Dad,” she finally said.
* * * *
When Lieutenant Kehen finally regained consciousness, she immediately felt like she was being smothered and that someone was holding a pillow over her face. After a moment of panic, she realized that her feelings of claustrophobia stemmed from being inside an environmental suit. Slowly, she sat up. The main lights were still out in the runabout but the emergency lights bathed everything in a red-blood glow. Looking around, she found another figure garbed like her that was lying beside her. Slowly, fearful of what she might find, she gazed into the other person’s faceplate and discovered that it was Commander Masafumi. His eyes were closed and she strained to see if he was breathing.
“He’s ok,” came a voice from behind her. Kehen jumped, turning to find Tennyson, who was similarly dressed as her, sitting by the Engineering console. The panel underneath it was off and she appeared to be working on something. Several isolinear chips lay scattered on the floor beside her. “I gave you both a shot to counteract the methane poisoning. You might want to get Hollem to look at you when we get back,” she added while working on a chip with a micro-laser.
The Yulani woman jumped again as Masafumi sat up beside her. “Will people stop doing that?!,” she yelled.
“Sorry,” the Commander said, smiling. “Lieutenant, what’s our status?”
Tennyson put her tools down. “The hull breach was fairly small. I patched it up but our environmental systems are offline. Until I can fix them, I can’t recycle the air in here.”
Masafumi looked at the suit monitor on his left wrist. “How long will it take to repair the environmental systems?”
“Four hours. Maybe more…”
“We have around thirteen hours of air in our suits. Is there anything that we can do to help?”
“No,” Tennyson said,” you’d just get in the way.”
“Anything else that we could start on?,” he asked, trying again.
Tennyson furrowed her brow. If he just left her alone, she could get the repairs done all the more quicker. However, Masafumi was her Commanding Officer and his offer of help was genuine. “What you could do is an outside visual inspection. I need to know how badly we’ve been banged up.”
“Very well,” Masafumi said, standing up. Returning to the locker that had held their suits, he collected a pair of phasers and a pair of tricorders. “Would you care to take a stroll outside?,” he asked Kehen.
It took the Yulani a moment to realize that he was talking to her. “Me?,” she asked meekly.
“It’s not safe to go out there alone and Lieutenant Tennyson is busy,” Masafumi replied, handing a phaser and a tricorder to her.
Kehen stood with difficulty since her hands were now full. “Let me adjust my suit temperature,” she said. “It’s freezing in here.”
Seconds later and they were standing by the outer hatch. They had holstered their phasers on their belts and each held a tricorder in their hands. “Do you want to go first?,” the First Officer asked her, quite formally.
“Why do I have to go first?,” she whined.
“It wasn’t an order, Lieutenant. I merely thought that you would like to be the first person to set foot on this planet’s surface. According to Starfleet records, no one has ever visited this world.”
“Well, if you don’t mind…”
Masafumi smiled. “It’ll be an honor enough to be the second person on Primus IV.”
Kehen took a deep breath. “I guess there’s no time like the present,” she said with a nervous laugh. Pressing the door control, the door slid open and a gust of wind immediately blew a shower of snowflakes inside, including a few centimeters of snow that had already built up against the door. Stepping outside, she discovered that the snow was a few centimeters deep. She moved only a few steps outside before she swung her head around in a wide arc with her helmet-mounted lights illuminating the darkness. She saw nothing but snow, both on the ground and falling from the sky.
Masafumi followed up close behind her. “Remember. Don’t stray too far from the runabout. It would be easy to get lost out here.”
“Don’t worry. I’m staying right next to the Snohomish,” she replied. “Do you think that we should clear away some of this snow? We don’t want to get buried.”
“Good idea,” Masafumi said, drawing his phaser. He began melting the snow around the runabout. As it melted, the snow turned to steam that wafted upwards from the ground like a fog bank rolling in. Kehen suppressed a shudder. She already felt uncomfortable about this planet and this just made it seem even more eerie to her. She resolved to shake the feeling away. Neither Commander Masafumi or Lieutenant Tennyson seemed to have any misgivings about this world. She only wished that she could stop imagining mythical monsters from her youth lumbering through the mist towards her.
“Lieutenant, can you hear me?”
She blinked, feeling as if she had been miles away. “I’m sorry, Commander. What did you say?”
Masafumi was standing in front of her. She couldn’t see his face but there was worry in his voice. “I had suggested that we take opposite sides of the runabout and examine the impulse engines. However, you seem to be distracted in some way. Perhaps you’d like to go back inside?”
“I’m sorry, Commander,” she said. “It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t. In our current situation, our lives may depend on each other, staying alert.”
“Yes, sir,” Kehen said, partly angry with his condescending tone but angrier at herself over losing her concentration.
“Very well. You examine this side. I’ll examine the starboard impulse engine. Stay in contact and be careful. If this weather worsens, get back inside.”
He trudged off, leaving her mouthing insults against his grandparents in her native tongue. Quickly realizing that she was letting her mind wander again, she turned towards the rear of the runabout and approached the pylon that connected the port nacelle to the main ship. Leaning across the nacelle, she brushed ice away and she did a visual inspection of the impulse engine housed at the rear of the pylon. It appears to be undamaged so she used her tricorder and began to scan it. At that precise moment, she had a strong feeling that there was someone behind her. She turned around suddenly, losing her footing on the nacelle and dropping her tricorder. As she fell, her head moved wildly, illuminating absolutely nothing
She sat with her back up against the pylon, breathing heavily. “Zia, stop doing this to yourself!,” she chided herself, forgetting that it was an open frequency.
“Lieutenant,” Masafumi asked,” what was that?” “Nothing, sir. I was just talking to myself.”
“Kindly keep your mind on the job at hand, please. You’re talking to yourself is very distracting for me.”
“Yes, sir,” Kehen said. She looked around for a few moments before finding her tricorder which was lying a few feet away. Dropping to her hands and knees, she recovered it and checked to see if it was still functioning.
It was.
Then she turned around, still on her hands and knees. She was still looking towards the ground and all that she saw were a pair of feet that were naked and green. That was when she screamed.
Around the other side of the runabout, Commander Masafumi attempted to clasp his hands over his ears when her screen echoed within his helmet. Realizing that it was pointless, he reduced the volume setting on his suit communicator instead.
“Lieutenant, what’s wrong?,” he asked, already moving towards the opposite side of the runabout. When there was no forthcoming answer, he holstered his tricorder and drew his phaser, quickening his pace.
Kehen heard him but she didn’t seem to be able to form the words to reply to him. She was still sitting up against the warp nacelle but the feet were gone. She had no idea where they had gone. At one moment, they were there and the next, they were gone. Almost in the time that it had taken her to blink once. It was only at this stage that she looked up, half-expecting to find the body of some creature, even though its legs had obviously disappeared.
There was nothing there though. She blinked again, seeing that there was nothing but the falling snow. When she blinked for a third time, she found a darkened form that was leaning over her.
“Yagh!,” she cried out.
“Lieutenant, are you all right?” The form resolved itself into the form of Commander Masafumi.
Kehen still couldn’t speak. Instead, all that he heard was her breathing, quick and nervous. “Lieutenant?,” he asked again, shouting louder this time.
Kehen finally found her words. “A creature was standing there… It took me… by surprise. Horrible feet, and-and… it vanished. I thought this planet was uninhabited.” After losing the power of speech, she couldn’t seem to stop talking. “I got scared. I thought it was going to attack. Where were you?”
“Lieutenant, calm down,” he said, banging his hand on the top of her helmet.
Kehen shut up, except for a quiet,” Ow.”
“That’s better. Are you injured in any way?”
“No,” she replied. “It just took me by surprise.”
“The creature?,” Masafumi asked her, unable to keep the derision out of his voice.
Kehen ignored his tone when she answered. “Yes, the creature. I dropped my tricorder and when I went to collect it, I turned around and it was there. Well, it’s feet were there.”
“Why did you drop your tricorder?”
“I…” She struggled to put into words what had happened. She already knew what Masafumi would think but she continued anyway. “I felt … a presence behind me and I turned around quickly. Too quickly as it turned out. That’s when I dropped my tricorder.”
“And the creature was there?,” asked the Testudo’s First Officer. There was a wry smile on his face that was reflected in his tone of voice.
“No… There was nothing there. I told you. I only saw something when I came down here,” she replied, her temper getting short by the second.
Masafumi holstered his phaser and grabbed his tricorder. Opening it, he began to scan the area around the runabout. After a minute of scanning, he turned back to the Yulani. “The tricorder shows no sign of life on this planet. Not even single cell organisms. Perhaps you should stand up and we could continue this discussion inside?,” he said. He sounds like a patronizing grandparent, she thought as he reached a gloved hand down to help her up.
Kehen allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. “I did see something, Commander,” she insisted.
Masafumi sighed, realized that he had been quite condescending but he couldn’t accept her ghostly vision as anything but the work of an overactive imagination. “Lieutenant, I’m sure that you thought you saw something but every indication is that this planet is uninhabited,” he finally said, keeping the condescending tone out of his voice this time.
“We should get inside,” Kehen said, curtly. She turned and trudged through the snow towards the hatch.
Masafumi sighed and turned to follow her. As he did, he stopped, feeling a shiver dancing along his spine. Slowly, he turned back towards the direction that he had been facing and directed his gaze out into the darkness. Nothing was there. When he turned around to follow Kehen, he could have sworn that he saw two figures, dark and shadowy, out of the corner of his eye. Another shiver was felt but this time, he smiled.
Insanity is contagious, he thought to himself before following the Lieutenant inside.
Oooo goody! I do like ghost stories! Crank up the creepy!
Thanks!! rbs
Thanks!! rbs
I imagine Jimmy Smits as Cardonez’s father, Captain Miquel Cardonez.
Chapter Two
Deep inside the cavernous expanse of Starbase One-Forty-Eight, another starship docked next to the Testudo. It was slightly smaller and it was also apparent that this ship had been designed for a different era. The ship’s saucer section rested above its twin nacelles, looking old and worn. Still to those who were watching, both from the Testudo and the starbase itself, the Miranda-class starship was still an impressive sight.
Aboard the Testudo, Isabel Cardonez stood, waiting in Transporter Room Two. Lieutenant Valian Kandro and Lieutenant Commander Adam Huntington were with her and they could see that she was on edge. Her hands were clasped tightly behind her back and she nervously kept switching her weight from foot to foot, favoring the left and then the right.
“Where is he?,” she asked.
“I’m sure he’ll be along soon, sir,” Huntington said.
“Why did he have to visit now? With Admiral Gavin on the way?”
“He probably didn’t realize that we have such a hectic social schedule,” the Betazoid Operations Officer said, valiantly holding back a smile.
Cardonez glared at him. She was about to say something when Chief Leong saved him. “I’ve received a signal,” she said from her place behind the transporter console. “Incoming transport.”
A second later, a blue incandescent transporter beam appeared before the energy coalesced and solidified into the form of Captain Miquel Cardonez. For a man of his age, he was still remarkably fit and stood as tall and straight as he always had. Stepping off of the transporter platform, his weathered face cracked open with a huge grin. “Hello, Izzie,” he proffered, holding out his arms in an indication that a hug was appropriate.
“Hi, Dad,” she replied, sliding into his arms as she had done for as long as she could remember. As always, her father squeezed her tightly in a bear hug.
“Where were you going to tell me that you got promoted then, huh?,” he asked, releasing her.
Cardonez took a moment to allow air back into her lungs. “We’ve been very busy. I was going to send you a subspace message but you know what it’s like? It’s one thing after another.”
“Yes, yes, it’s a captain’s lot,” he said, pointing at Huntington. “Is this your First Officer?”
“This is Lieutenant Commander Huntington, my Tactical Officer.”
“Ah, it’s good to meet you,” the elder Cardonez said, holding out his hand.
“It’s good to meet you, sir,” Adam said, taking the hand. Miquel’s handshakes were as ferocious as his hugs but he took it in his stride.
“You’ve been in Starfleet for a while, I take it?,” Miquel asked bluntly.
“I graduated in the class of 2350,” said Huntington with a smile. “I suppose that still makes me a young whippersnapper?”
Miquel Hernandez let out a hearty laugh. “Yes, it does! You young people today have no respect for your elders.” He turned towards Lieutenant Kandro, prodding his chest playfully. “And you! Are you still keeping your hands off my daughter, I hope?”
“Dad…”
“Yes, sir, I am,” said Kandro.
“What’s the matter?,” he asked, smiling. “Don’t you think that my Izzie is pretty?”
“Dad…,” Cardonez said once more.
Kandro pondered the question for a moment before smiling. “Yes, I do, but the damage that it would cause to my career prospects, not to mention my physical well-being make it too risky to attempt.”
“Okay, Valian, he’s my dad. He can get away with making fun of me. You can’t. Not unless you want to spend the next week, cleaning out plasma conduits in the warp nacelles.”
“So, Commander, tell me,” Miquel said. “Is it true that when I’m not around, Izzie actually has a sense of humor?”
Huntington kept his face straight. “I’m afraid that I am unable to answer that question, sir, since it pertains to ship’s security.”
Miquel let out a huge laugh. “Izzie, you always do attract funny people. I can’t wait to meet your First Officer.”
At the mention of the words’ First Officer’ and ‘funny’ being used in the same sentence, Kandro giggled.
“Mister Kandro, I’m sure that a man of your many talents has a lot of work to do,” Cardonez said. “If not, I’m sure that Lieutenant Tennyson would appreciate finding some clean plasma conduits on her return.”
“I’m sorry, Captain. I actually do have some work to do in Astrometrics. I’ll get right on it. It’s nice to see you again, sir,” the Betazoid said to Miquel before he beat a hasty retreat.
“Nice boy,” the elder Cardonez said. “Haven’t I always said that?”
“Yes, Dad, every time that you meet him,” his daughter said. “I’m sure that it comes down to sharing the same mental age.”
“Captain, we’ve just received a hail from the Ark Royal. Admiral Gavin is requesting permission to beam aboard,” said Chief Leong.
“Tell them to stand by,” Cardonez said, turning towards Huntington with a gentle but pleading smile. “Commander, could you take my father on a tour of the ship?”
“It would be an honor.”
“Very well,” Miquel said,” but I will see you later.”
“Of course.”
“After we complete the tour, I would very much like to take a look around the Devonshire. My first ship after the Academy was a Miranda-class,” Huntington said as they walked out the door.
“Really? Which one?”
“The USS Aphrodite.”
Cardonez missed any further snippets and conversation between them when the door closed behind them. She took a deep breath. “Okay, Chief. Tell the Admiral that we’re ready.”
For the second time in the last few minutes, the transporter platform activated. This time, it was Admiral James Gavin. He looked nowhere different than the last time that she had seen him. He was a rotund man in his late sixties with short, shaven snow-white hair.
She stepped forwards. “Welcome aboard, Admiral,” she said with a smile, holding her own hand out.
“Oh, hello, Captain. It’s good to see you,” the Admiral said, although his demeanor suggested that he had an urgent appointment elsewhere. “Tell me, is it true that your father’s aboard?”
“Yes, sir, but…,” Cardonez began to say.
“Well, where the devil is he? I haven’t seen him for years.”
“Well, Commander Huntington is showing him around at the moment…”
“Excellent. I’ll go and find them,” the Admiral said, walking past Isabel and out into the corridor.
“Admiral?,” she called after him.
“Don’t worry,” Gavin said before he was gone. “I know my way around.”
Cardonez shrugged her shoulders in the direction of Chief Leong and left the transporter room.
* * * *
Inside the runabout, the atmosphere was frosty and not simply because the environmental systems were still down. Since they had returned from their scouting mission, neither Kehen or Masafumi had spoken to each other. Meanwhile, Tennyson continued to work on getting life-support back online. Only then could she work on the rest of their problems. According to their examination of the impulse engines, there were several cracks in the starboard engine casing and the port engine was almost completely ionized. In addition, the subspace communicator had been badly damaged in the crash.
Despite her protests, Masafumi was working on the communications system while she finished the repairs to the environmental system. Kehen simply sat in the rear section of the runabout. They had agreed that life-support and communications were important. If they had breathable air, they could survive inside the runabout until someone came looking for them. If the communications system was up and running, they could always signal for help. Only once they had those two systems up and running would she begin to work on the impulse engines. The warp nacelles had suffered major damage in the crash and she would need the resources of the Testudo in order to repair them. She was hopeful that they could reach the archaeological team on Primus III.
“She could have seen something, you know,” Tennyson said.
Masafumi looked up from the console that he was working at. “This planet is uninhabited and that’s a fact. The tricorder would have registered a lifeform within five kilometers, let alone five meters.”
“It’s possible that a lifeform might not register, isn’t it?”
“Yes. There have been instances where life was so different to what we know that it wasn’t immediately apparent.”
“So she could have seen something?,” the engineer pressed him.
“No, and I’ll tell you why,” he said. “Because in all of the known worlds, I have never encountered a being or creature that was able to stand in snow and not leave a footprint or two.”
“Oh, well, I guess that’s fairly conclusive.”
“Do you think I should try to talk to her?”
“It might be a good idea, Commander. No offense but I think you pissed her off.”
“Simply because I chose to accept the facts of the situation over her imaginary monster?,” Masafumi asked her with a snort.
“You could have been a little less condescending.”
“Condescending?,” he queried. “I’m sorry but I find it difficult to suffer fools gladly.”
“Geez. It’s good that she isn’t hooked into the comm system or she would never speak to you again.”
Masafumi sighed and stood up from his seat. “I’ll go and speak with her.” He moved towards the rear of the runabout.
“You do that,” Liz said quietly after he had left.
Deep inside the cavernous expanse of Starbase One-Forty-Eight, another starship docked next to the Testudo. It was slightly smaller and it was also apparent that this ship had been designed for a different era. The ship’s saucer section rested above its twin nacelles, looking old and worn. Still to those who were watching, both from the Testudo and the starbase itself, the Miranda-class starship was still an impressive sight.
Aboard the Testudo, Isabel Cardonez stood, waiting in Transporter Room Two. Lieutenant Valian Kandro and Lieutenant Commander Adam Huntington were with her and they could see that she was on edge. Her hands were clasped tightly behind her back and she nervously kept switching her weight from foot to foot, favoring the left and then the right.
“Where is he?,” she asked.
“I’m sure he’ll be along soon, sir,” Huntington said.
“Why did he have to visit now? With Admiral Gavin on the way?”
“He probably didn’t realize that we have such a hectic social schedule,” the Betazoid Operations Officer said, valiantly holding back a smile.
Cardonez glared at him. She was about to say something when Chief Leong saved him. “I’ve received a signal,” she said from her place behind the transporter console. “Incoming transport.”
A second later, a blue incandescent transporter beam appeared before the energy coalesced and solidified into the form of Captain Miquel Cardonez. For a man of his age, he was still remarkably fit and stood as tall and straight as he always had. Stepping off of the transporter platform, his weathered face cracked open with a huge grin. “Hello, Izzie,” he proffered, holding out his arms in an indication that a hug was appropriate.
“Hi, Dad,” she replied, sliding into his arms as she had done for as long as she could remember. As always, her father squeezed her tightly in a bear hug.
“Where were you going to tell me that you got promoted then, huh?,” he asked, releasing her.
Cardonez took a moment to allow air back into her lungs. “We’ve been very busy. I was going to send you a subspace message but you know what it’s like? It’s one thing after another.”
“Yes, yes, it’s a captain’s lot,” he said, pointing at Huntington. “Is this your First Officer?”
“This is Lieutenant Commander Huntington, my Tactical Officer.”
“Ah, it’s good to meet you,” the elder Cardonez said, holding out his hand.
“It’s good to meet you, sir,” Adam said, taking the hand. Miquel’s handshakes were as ferocious as his hugs but he took it in his stride.
“You’ve been in Starfleet for a while, I take it?,” Miquel asked bluntly.
“I graduated in the class of 2350,” said Huntington with a smile. “I suppose that still makes me a young whippersnapper?”
Miquel Hernandez let out a hearty laugh. “Yes, it does! You young people today have no respect for your elders.” He turned towards Lieutenant Kandro, prodding his chest playfully. “And you! Are you still keeping your hands off my daughter, I hope?”
“Dad…”
“Yes, sir, I am,” said Kandro.
“What’s the matter?,” he asked, smiling. “Don’t you think that my Izzie is pretty?”
“Dad…,” Cardonez said once more.
Kandro pondered the question for a moment before smiling. “Yes, I do, but the damage that it would cause to my career prospects, not to mention my physical well-being make it too risky to attempt.”
“Okay, Valian, he’s my dad. He can get away with making fun of me. You can’t. Not unless you want to spend the next week, cleaning out plasma conduits in the warp nacelles.”
“So, Commander, tell me,” Miquel said. “Is it true that when I’m not around, Izzie actually has a sense of humor?”
Huntington kept his face straight. “I’m afraid that I am unable to answer that question, sir, since it pertains to ship’s security.”
Miquel let out a huge laugh. “Izzie, you always do attract funny people. I can’t wait to meet your First Officer.”
At the mention of the words’ First Officer’ and ‘funny’ being used in the same sentence, Kandro giggled.
“Mister Kandro, I’m sure that a man of your many talents has a lot of work to do,” Cardonez said. “If not, I’m sure that Lieutenant Tennyson would appreciate finding some clean plasma conduits on her return.”
“I’m sorry, Captain. I actually do have some work to do in Astrometrics. I’ll get right on it. It’s nice to see you again, sir,” the Betazoid said to Miquel before he beat a hasty retreat.
“Nice boy,” the elder Cardonez said. “Haven’t I always said that?”
“Yes, Dad, every time that you meet him,” his daughter said. “I’m sure that it comes down to sharing the same mental age.”
“Captain, we’ve just received a hail from the Ark Royal. Admiral Gavin is requesting permission to beam aboard,” said Chief Leong.
“Tell them to stand by,” Cardonez said, turning towards Huntington with a gentle but pleading smile. “Commander, could you take my father on a tour of the ship?”
“It would be an honor.”
“Very well,” Miquel said,” but I will see you later.”
“Of course.”
“After we complete the tour, I would very much like to take a look around the Devonshire. My first ship after the Academy was a Miranda-class,” Huntington said as they walked out the door.
“Really? Which one?”
“The USS Aphrodite.”
Cardonez missed any further snippets and conversation between them when the door closed behind them. She took a deep breath. “Okay, Chief. Tell the Admiral that we’re ready.”
For the second time in the last few minutes, the transporter platform activated. This time, it was Admiral James Gavin. He looked nowhere different than the last time that she had seen him. He was a rotund man in his late sixties with short, shaven snow-white hair.
She stepped forwards. “Welcome aboard, Admiral,” she said with a smile, holding her own hand out.
“Oh, hello, Captain. It’s good to see you,” the Admiral said, although his demeanor suggested that he had an urgent appointment elsewhere. “Tell me, is it true that your father’s aboard?”
“Yes, sir, but…,” Cardonez began to say.
“Well, where the devil is he? I haven’t seen him for years.”
“Well, Commander Huntington is showing him around at the moment…”
“Excellent. I’ll go and find them,” the Admiral said, walking past Isabel and out into the corridor.
“Admiral?,” she called after him.
“Don’t worry,” Gavin said before he was gone. “I know my way around.”
Cardonez shrugged her shoulders in the direction of Chief Leong and left the transporter room.
* * * *
Inside the runabout, the atmosphere was frosty and not simply because the environmental systems were still down. Since they had returned from their scouting mission, neither Kehen or Masafumi had spoken to each other. Meanwhile, Tennyson continued to work on getting life-support back online. Only then could she work on the rest of their problems. According to their examination of the impulse engines, there were several cracks in the starboard engine casing and the port engine was almost completely ionized. In addition, the subspace communicator had been badly damaged in the crash.
Despite her protests, Masafumi was working on the communications system while she finished the repairs to the environmental system. Kehen simply sat in the rear section of the runabout. They had agreed that life-support and communications were important. If they had breathable air, they could survive inside the runabout until someone came looking for them. If the communications system was up and running, they could always signal for help. Only once they had those two systems up and running would she begin to work on the impulse engines. The warp nacelles had suffered major damage in the crash and she would need the resources of the Testudo in order to repair them. She was hopeful that they could reach the archaeological team on Primus III.
“She could have seen something, you know,” Tennyson said.
Masafumi looked up from the console that he was working at. “This planet is uninhabited and that’s a fact. The tricorder would have registered a lifeform within five kilometers, let alone five meters.”
“It’s possible that a lifeform might not register, isn’t it?”
“Yes. There have been instances where life was so different to what we know that it wasn’t immediately apparent.”
“So she could have seen something?,” the engineer pressed him.
“No, and I’ll tell you why,” he said. “Because in all of the known worlds, I have never encountered a being or creature that was able to stand in snow and not leave a footprint or two.”
“Oh, well, I guess that’s fairly conclusive.”
“Do you think I should try to talk to her?”
“It might be a good idea, Commander. No offense but I think you pissed her off.”
“Simply because I chose to accept the facts of the situation over her imaginary monster?,” Masafumi asked her with a snort.
“You could have been a little less condescending.”
“Condescending?,” he queried. “I’m sorry but I find it difficult to suffer fools gladly.”
“Geez. It’s good that she isn’t hooked into the comm system or she would never speak to you again.”
Masafumi sighed and stood up from his seat. “I’ll go and speak with her.” He moved towards the rear of the runabout.
“You do that,” Liz said quietly after he had left.
Masafumi seems a character who needs some growth. And, considering the circumstances, he's likely to experience it quite soon. Nice family moment with the Captains Cardonez.
Thanks!! rbs
Thanks!! rbs
* * * *
In the rear compartment of the small ship, Lieutenant Kehen sat on a chair, swinging it from side to side. To Yashiro Masafumi, she looked like a spoiled child petulantly swiveling on a chair. Of course, most petulant children didn’t wear an environmental suit. Walking around until he was face to face with her, he gestured for her to activate her communications system. She scowled through her faceplate but activated it anyway.
“Can I help you, Commander?”
Masafumi sat down in one of the other chairs. “I believe I owe you something of an apology.”
“You believe me then?”
“I’m afraid not, Lieutenant. The tricorder picked up nothing and in addition, as I’ve just told Lieutenant Tennyson…”
“Oh, you’ve been discussing me with Liz,, have you?”
“Lieutenant!,” he snapped at her. “I’m attempting to have a conversation with you. I’m also trying to apologize. Although, I’m unsure as to why at this moment.”
The Commander began to stand and as he did, the Yulani began to speak. Neither of them finished their actions. At that moment, a giant creature broke through the back of the runabout. Both Starfleet officers tumbled out of its way since it was heading straight for them. Instead of smashing through the table, the creature simply melted through it like a hologram. It stood there, merged with the table and the two of them had a chance to examine it closely. It was the size of a large canine and it stood on four powerful legs, its skin was a mottled white color and it was covered in fine gray hair. Its head was large and disproportional compared to its body. Its jaws were hanging open with its jagged teeth displayed for all to see with twin fangs that were ten centimeters long plunging down from its upper jaw. Two eyes were attached to either side of its head like a fish, just below a pair of tiny pointed ears.
Masafumi managed to finally unfreeze himself and unclipped his tricorder from his belt. The creature didn’t seem to notice them at all but he kept his movements slow. After a moment of scanning, he spoke softly. “It isn’t here. No lifesigns at all. Nothing, in fact. All I’m reading is the table.”
“Could it be a hologram?,” Kehen asked in little more than a whisper.
“No. I would detect that. As I indicated, I’m not detecting anything at all. Very unusual.”
“Well, at least, you got to believe me now.”
Inside his helmet, MAsafumi raised an eyebrow. He didn’t like to be wrong but on this occasion he had no choice but to admit it. “Yes, Lieutenant. I’m sorry. It appears that there’s more to Primus IV than meets the eye.”
“Holy cow!,” came the voice of Liz Tennyson over the comm system when she appeared in the doorway leading from the rest of the ship. She laughed and asked,” Who let the dog in?”
“It isn’t here,” Masafumi told her. “At least, not in any sense as we understand it.”
“Then I suppose neither are they?,” the Chief Engineer asked him, pointing to the rear wall of the runabout once more. There were two figures that had just walked through the wall as easily as the first creature had.
Unlike the previous creature, these ones stood on two legs and not four. From the look of them, they were intelligent. At least, in a rudimentary way. They stood over six and a half feet tall, Masafumi guessed. It was hard to tell as their legs disappeared into the floor. They were slender, willowy creatures that were green in color and they wore simple clothes made from fur. The fur was grayish-white in color and it seemed a distinct possibility that they made their clothing from the pelts of creatures like the one that was currently sitting in front of them. Their heads were thin and elongated but they conformed in some ways to humanoids found throughout the Galaxy. Two eyes – where they were on a Human, rather than a fish this time – a nose and a mouth. The beings’ mouths were thin, mere slits that seemed to open only ever so slightly. Their eyes were small and the Commander couldn’t believe that they could see out of them with any true clarity. Their ears were strange, starting off looking vaguely Human, they dropped down before swinging back up behind them and merging with their bald heads. It made them almost look like bat wings and he wondered if they navigated by ultrasonic or radar of some kind.
It had only been a matter of seconds since they appeared and for those seconds, they had stayed still. They moved, circling the creature. One of them moved perilously close to Kehen but rather than move aside, she held her ground and the being passed through her.
“Lieutenant, are you all right?,” Masafumi asked her with genuine concern.
“Yes. I felt nothing as it passed through me. You’re right. They aren’t here at all.”
As the two aliens converged on the creature, the three officers noticed that they held implements that appeared to be merely crude wooden clubs. At the base of each of them was a rough hook, made out of some kind of metal. It was Masafumi, who had descended from a long line of Japanese fishermen, who identified its purpose first.
“A gutting hook,” he said, simply.
“Oh, no,” Tennyson asked. “They’re going to kill it and gut it?”
“Of course, they are. This is a fascinating look at a primitive society’s hunting rituals. I’m only sorry that we won’t be able to record it.”
“Yuck…”
The alien beings drew closer to the creature with their clubs held ready. Tennyson found herself hoping that the creature would be able to somehow escape. Masafumi looked on with fascination and Kehen wondered how naive Starfleet officers were. With their sanitized world, it hadn’t been so long ago that she had watched her grandmother kill and skin a yelek for dinner.
When the tableau simply vanished without a resolution, Tennyson was relieved, the Commander was disappointed, and Kehen was hungry.
In the rear compartment of the small ship, Lieutenant Kehen sat on a chair, swinging it from side to side. To Yashiro Masafumi, she looked like a spoiled child petulantly swiveling on a chair. Of course, most petulant children didn’t wear an environmental suit. Walking around until he was face to face with her, he gestured for her to activate her communications system. She scowled through her faceplate but activated it anyway.
“Can I help you, Commander?”
Masafumi sat down in one of the other chairs. “I believe I owe you something of an apology.”
“You believe me then?”
“I’m afraid not, Lieutenant. The tricorder picked up nothing and in addition, as I’ve just told Lieutenant Tennyson…”
“Oh, you’ve been discussing me with Liz,, have you?”
“Lieutenant!,” he snapped at her. “I’m attempting to have a conversation with you. I’m also trying to apologize. Although, I’m unsure as to why at this moment.”
The Commander began to stand and as he did, the Yulani began to speak. Neither of them finished their actions. At that moment, a giant creature broke through the back of the runabout. Both Starfleet officers tumbled out of its way since it was heading straight for them. Instead of smashing through the table, the creature simply melted through it like a hologram. It stood there, merged with the table and the two of them had a chance to examine it closely. It was the size of a large canine and it stood on four powerful legs, its skin was a mottled white color and it was covered in fine gray hair. Its head was large and disproportional compared to its body. Its jaws were hanging open with its jagged teeth displayed for all to see with twin fangs that were ten centimeters long plunging down from its upper jaw. Two eyes were attached to either side of its head like a fish, just below a pair of tiny pointed ears.
Masafumi managed to finally unfreeze himself and unclipped his tricorder from his belt. The creature didn’t seem to notice them at all but he kept his movements slow. After a moment of scanning, he spoke softly. “It isn’t here. No lifesigns at all. Nothing, in fact. All I’m reading is the table.”
“Could it be a hologram?,” Kehen asked in little more than a whisper.
“No. I would detect that. As I indicated, I’m not detecting anything at all. Very unusual.”
“Well, at least, you got to believe me now.”
Inside his helmet, MAsafumi raised an eyebrow. He didn’t like to be wrong but on this occasion he had no choice but to admit it. “Yes, Lieutenant. I’m sorry. It appears that there’s more to Primus IV than meets the eye.”
“Holy cow!,” came the voice of Liz Tennyson over the comm system when she appeared in the doorway leading from the rest of the ship. She laughed and asked,” Who let the dog in?”
“It isn’t here,” Masafumi told her. “At least, not in any sense as we understand it.”
“Then I suppose neither are they?,” the Chief Engineer asked him, pointing to the rear wall of the runabout once more. There were two figures that had just walked through the wall as easily as the first creature had.
Unlike the previous creature, these ones stood on two legs and not four. From the look of them, they were intelligent. At least, in a rudimentary way. They stood over six and a half feet tall, Masafumi guessed. It was hard to tell as their legs disappeared into the floor. They were slender, willowy creatures that were green in color and they wore simple clothes made from fur. The fur was grayish-white in color and it seemed a distinct possibility that they made their clothing from the pelts of creatures like the one that was currently sitting in front of them. Their heads were thin and elongated but they conformed in some ways to humanoids found throughout the Galaxy. Two eyes – where they were on a Human, rather than a fish this time – a nose and a mouth. The beings’ mouths were thin, mere slits that seemed to open only ever so slightly. Their eyes were small and the Commander couldn’t believe that they could see out of them with any true clarity. Their ears were strange, starting off looking vaguely Human, they dropped down before swinging back up behind them and merging with their bald heads. It made them almost look like bat wings and he wondered if they navigated by ultrasonic or radar of some kind.
It had only been a matter of seconds since they appeared and for those seconds, they had stayed still. They moved, circling the creature. One of them moved perilously close to Kehen but rather than move aside, she held her ground and the being passed through her.
“Lieutenant, are you all right?,” Masafumi asked her with genuine concern.
“Yes. I felt nothing as it passed through me. You’re right. They aren’t here at all.”
As the two aliens converged on the creature, the three officers noticed that they held implements that appeared to be merely crude wooden clubs. At the base of each of them was a rough hook, made out of some kind of metal. It was Masafumi, who had descended from a long line of Japanese fishermen, who identified its purpose first.
“A gutting hook,” he said, simply.
“Oh, no,” Tennyson asked. “They’re going to kill it and gut it?”
“Of course, they are. This is a fascinating look at a primitive society’s hunting rituals. I’m only sorry that we won’t be able to record it.”
“Yuck…”
The alien beings drew closer to the creature with their clubs held ready. Tennyson found herself hoping that the creature would be able to somehow escape. Masafumi looked on with fascination and Kehen wondered how naive Starfleet officers were. With their sanitized world, it hadn’t been so long ago that she had watched her grandmother kill and skin a yelek for dinner.
When the tableau simply vanished without a resolution, Tennyson was relieved, the Commander was disappointed, and Kehen was hungry.
Sweet half-phased critter design! Very interesting little scene - leaving far more questions than answers.
Thanks!! rbs
Thanks!! rbs
I was wondering if they were phased (like the TNG episode with Geordi and Ro) or some kind of temporal effect like in VOY's Parallax just before Janeway and Paris ended up in the past.
Keep it coming.
Keep it coming.
Chapter Three
Liz Tennyson took a deep breath. “That’s better.”
Both of her companions heartily agreed with her. She had gotten the environmental systems up and running and now they were out of their environmental suits. “Good job on the subspace communicator, by the way, Commander.”
“Thank you,” Yashiro Masafumi said with a slight bow of his head. “It’s unfortunate that the storm is still raging above us or else we could call for assistance.”
The three Starfleet officers were sitting in the rear compartment of the runabout around the table with the remains of a meal in front of them. As soon as the environmental systems were back online, Kehen had suggested food. Neither he or the engineer had been opposed to that idea.
While they had eaten, they hadn’t discussed the visions that all of them had experienced. Though the Commander decided to bring it up. “What about our mysterious visitors?,” he asked. “What were they? How do they exist on a supposedly uninhabited world?”
“Is it possible that they’re representatives of the Primons?,” asked Tennyson.
“Yes and no. On one hand, their physical appearance tallies with what the archaeologists have discovered on Primus III.”
“But?,” queried Kehen.
“The Primons died out, nine hundred years ago. They had only reached a level of sophistication equivalent to an Iron Age culture. There is no way that they could have traveled to this world.”
“Maybe someone brought them here?,” suggested Tennyson. “Maybe the Preservers?”
Masafumi considered this. “It’s a possibility. The notion of the Preservers has become derided in the last forty years but there are still several examples of societies that clearly evolved on one planet being discovered on another. Perhaps they transplanted them here when they realized that they were about to die out on Primus III?”
“That still doesn’t answer the question of what those illusions were.”
“Klaides,” said Kehen.
“Excuse me?,” asked Masafumi.
“Klaides,” the Yulani woman said again as if that should be enough of an explanation. When no response was forthcoming, she explained. “You know, ghosts.”
Masafumi felt another shiver go down his spine but he laughed out loud anyway. “Ghosts!,” he said, balking at the suggestion.
“Give me another explanation then. After all, you’re the Science Officer,” Kehen said with barely concealed glee.
“Well, you did say that you couldn’t explain it, Commander,” said Tennyson.
“Just because I don’t have an explanation at the moment, it doesn’t mean that we should begin to believe in ghosts and goblins.”
Kehen saw through his bluster. “Commander, I’ll reserve judgment until you tell me what it was. Until you do, I’ll choose to believe what I will. And right now, I believe that we’re seeing the images of souls long dead.”
Masafumi snorted. “Lieutenant…,” he began to say but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Instead, he turned to Tennyson for support. “Lieutenant, surely you don’t believe in this nonsense?”
“Like the girl said, show us some proof otherwise.” She didn’t believe in ghosts for a second but the Commander needed to be pulled down a peg or two.
“Incredible,” he said, shaking his head. “That modern people could still cling to the belief of shades and spirits. I’m sure that if Commander Huntington were here, he would regale us with tales of dark and stormy nights and headless horsemen.”
“Probably,” Tennyson said, playfully.
“Well, perhaps we should endeavor to get some sleep,” the Commander said, keen to end this conversation before he said anything that he would regret. “I think that one of us should remain on the flight deck, in case the storm subsides.” Both women nodded in agreement. “Very well. I’ll take the first watch.”
“I’ll go next,” said Tennyson.
“Excellent. I’ll wake you up in four hours.”
Yashiro made his way forward to the flight deck. He got himself a cup of green tea from the replicator and made himself comfortable in the pilot’s chair. It was going to be a long night, he reflected and laughed when he realized how absurd his thoughts were. Primus IV rotated on its axis every two weeks so nights were always long here.
* * * *
Despite a good night’s sleep, Captain Isabel Cardonez was fuming when she walked onto the Bridge. Despite repeated attempts to find the Admiral, she was unable to locate him. She had finally contacted the Ark Royal, only to be told that he had left strict instructions not to be disturbed. The first thing that she noticed was that Lieutenant Commander Huntington wasn’t at his post. In fact, the only senior officer on the Bridge was Lieutenant Kandro.
“Lieutenant, where is Commander Huntington?,” she asked the Betazoid Operations Officer.
Kandro seemed flustered and he took several seconds to answer. “He’s in Sickbay, sir.”
“Is he ill?,” Cardonez asked with a certain notion already in mind as to what that sickness could be.
Kandro hesitated again. “Well…,” he began.
Cardonez held a finger up. “Let me explain the ranking structure to you, Lieutenant,” she said, emphasizing his rank. “Lieutenant Commander Huntington has two and a half pips. Captain Cardonez has four pips. Do you understand what that means?”
Kandro fully knew what it meant. “He’s hungover, sir.”
“Thank you,” she said with her suspicions confirmed. Changing tack, she asked,” Any news from the Snohomish?”
“No, sir. However, long-range probes indicate that the storm hasn’t subsided yet.”
“Plot a course for the Primus system. I’m going to see if I can pin the Admiral down.”
“Worried about them?,” asked Kandro.
“Just a bit.”
“Me too.”
“Well, let’s see if we can’t arrange to go pick them up,” the Captain said with a smile before she spinned on her heels and walked off of the Bridge.
* * * *
A very disheveled-looking Adam Huntington sat uncomfortably on the edge of a biobed in Sickbay while Doctor Hollem Azahn scanned him with a tricorder, an amazed look on his face. “Commander, I really can’t recommend imbibing this much alcohol in one sitting. Especially in so many varieties.”
“Could you speak a little quieter, please?”
“Of course,” the Bajoran said, lowering his voice. “I’m reading vodka, Klingon bloodwine, Antaran mead and something that I sincerely hope isn’t Romulan ale.” There was a suspicious look in his eyes. “There’s something else as well. Do you know what it was?”
“No,” Huntington told him. “All I remember was that it was green.”
“Hmm,” Hollem said, picking up a hypospray that he loaded with a honey-colored substance. “Now this shot won’t clear away all of the symptoms but it will suppress them and enable you to function. I would recommend getting something to eat and drink. Water preferably, after I give it to you.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” the Tactical Officer said with a weak smile.
Before he could get the shot, his commanding officer arrived. “Ah, Commander! I’ve been looking for you,” she said and although she wasn’t exactly shouting, her words were loud enough to send shards of pain through her Tactical Officer’s head.
She took the hypospray out of Hollem’s hand. “Hangover cure?,” she asked and the Doctor nodded. “But that would imply that you had a hangover, Commander…” Her faux shock was evident on her face.
“I’m sorry,” he said with a pathetic smile. “They’re both superior officers but I don’t suppose you’d believe that they ordered me to join them?”
“Not remotely, Commander. Now then, maybe you can tell me where the Admiral is? No one aboard the Ark Royal is talking.”
Huntington looked longingly at the hypospray. “When I left them, they were in your father’s cabin aboard the Devonshire. That was an hour or two ago.”
“You were drinking all night?”
“We have a lot of things in common. You young Starfleet types wouldn’t understand,” he joked.
“Tempting as it is to order the doctor here not to treat you, I can’t do without my Tactical Officer for long,” she said, handing the hypospray back to Hollem. “I expect you on the Bridge when I get back,” she added before she exited the room.
“Wow, the Captain’s peeves,” the doctor said before he turned and began to walk towards his office.
“Doctor?,” Huntington shouted, his head exploding in pain again.
“Yes?”
“My injection?,” he asked, pointing at the hypospray in his hand.
“Oh, oops. Sorry.” He hastily returned and gave him his shot.
“Ahhh, thank you, Doctor,” Adam said before sliding off of the biobed and heading out the door.
* * * *
Yashiro Masafumi didn’t want to wake up. He was in the middle of a wonderful dream and he desperately wanted to stay there. The bright light shining against his eyelids wouldn’t allow him though and he slowly drifted back to consciousness. Squinting against the light, he managed to read the chronometer on the control panel in front of him. He was amazed to discover that he should have roused Liz Tennyson an hour before. It was only at that moment when he realized that there shouldn’t be light streaming in through the windows. Shielding his eyes as best as he could, he looked out one of the forward windows of the runabout and saw an amazing light.
A hundred meters ahead of the runabout was an explosion of light composed of one large white light that was surrounded by a myriad of smaller, differently colored lights. The smaller lights were strung out over what looked like a large crystal that was several meters in height and width. As he watched, a being emerged from behind the crystal. The being was the same as the ones seen earlier. A Primon, MAsafumi assumed, but he wore clothing that seemed more modern, a brown suit of some kind. It still looked like animal skin but it appeared to have been rudimentarily tailored.
Despite his fascination, he tapped his combadge. “Tennyson! Kehen! Get up here now!”
While he waited, he tried to study the structure in better detail. The smaller lights seemed to be individual crystals of varying hues. While the light that obviously shone from the large crystal was white, it changed depending on which of the smaller crystals it shone through.
“Wow!,” Kehen said as she and Tennyson arrived to take in the sight. Neither woman wore their uniform jackets, but otherwise, they were fully dressed.
“Indeed,” said Masafumi.
“What is it?,” asked Liz.
As they watched, the Primon turned to face the crystal, falling to its knees in supplication.
“I think that it’s a place of religious worship. A church or an icon of some kind,” Masafumi said, never taking his eyes off of the spectacle.
“They built that?,” asked Tennyson.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Large crystals like this have been known to be naturally occurring. It’s possible that the Primons modified it with the smaller crystals but I don’t think this was anything that they built.”
“But the light, surely?”
“Not necessarily,” said Kehen. “On Yulan, there is the Cave of Montas. It’s several kilometers underground but it’s as bright as day, thanks to its luminous mold.”
“Agreed,” Masafumi said. “I think that it’s a naturally occurring phenomenon that the primitive Primons latched onto as a symbol of something greater than them.”
Without any warning, the vision suddenly disappeared. For several seconds afterwards, each of the Starfleet officers could still see it imprinted on their retinas. Seconds seconds after that, a large rumbling shook the runabout.
“What the hell…,” Tennyson muttered as the tremor subsided.
Masafumi quickly accessed the console in front of him. “It was an earth tremor, two kilometers away.” He continued to read information as fast as the computer could provide it before commenting,” Fascinating.”
“What?,” asked Liz.
“Apparently, the crust of this planet is very thin in some places and we’re sitting on top of such a place. There appears to be huge caverns underneath us. The sensors indicate that they’re full of methane.”
“So?,” asked Kehen. “The atmosphere is mostly methane anyway.”
“Fifty-one percent, to be more accurate,” the Commander said,” and it’s probably nothing. Just an idea that I’m currently formulating.”
“What idea?”
He smiled at Tennyson. “A good scientist doesn’t publish his results until he has a working hypothesis.”
“Are we in any danger?”
“Quite possibly. It appears that we destabilized this area of the ground when we crashed here. That tremor was a forerunner to a greater one to come.”
“How long?,” Kehen asked him, nervously, remembering her fear from after they had landed.
“It’s impossible to predict accurately. However, I would estimate it to be any time between a few hours and a few weeks.”
“There’s nothing like estimation to worry the hell out of you,” Tennyson said. “I guess that cancels out the idea of sitting here and waiting for rescue.”
“Indeed. It’s imperative that we repair the impulse engines and take off as soon as we can. Lieutenant, while I understand your professional pride may preclude you from allowing us to help you, I suggest that Lieutenant Kehen and I repair the cracked starboard engine housing while you direct your greater skill to the more complex faults on the port engine.”
It took her a moment to respond. She still hadn’t figured him out. Was it her imagination or did he just insult her and praise her all in the same sentence? She couldn’t doubt the logic of his words however.
“Good plan, Commander.”
“Lieutenant,” he asked Kehen,” will you be all right this time?”
“Sure,” she replied uneasily with an equally uneasy smile. “I didn’t know what I was scared of before. Now, at least, I know that it’s the ground caving in under me.”
If he heard the sarcasm in her voice, he ignored it. “That’s the spirit,” Masafumi told her. “Let’s get suited up.”
* * * *
Captain Cardonez experienced no resistance when she beamed aboard the Devonshire. Instead, the young crewman in the Transporter Room had eagerly pointed her in the direction of her father’s cabin. Now she walked through empty corridors towards it. The Miranda-class starship wasn’t much smaller than her own ship but most of the Miranda-class ships had been heavily modified in recent years. No longer adequate for tactical or exploratory missions, most of them had either been retired from duty or converted to carry cargo as the Devonshire had been. As such, its crew complement hovered around twenty-five crewmembers. So she wasn’t surprised when she encountered no one between the Transporter Room and her father’s cabin.
Reaching her destination, she suddenly felt nervous for the first time. Ever since the Admiral had ignored her, she had been getting very frustrated. Hiding from her and getting her Tactical Officer drunk had merely exacerbated her feelings to the point where she was ready to scream at Gavin. Whether he was an Admiral or not. Now at the end of her quest, she hesitated. In truth, she wasn’t sure who she was angrier at. Him or her father.
Aren’t they both male authority figures prevalent in my life?, she considered. Perhaps I see the Admiral as a surrogate father figure? Maybe I should have a chat with the ship’s counselor when I get back?
Cardonez shook her head. “Bullshit,” she muttered before hitting the door chimes, her anger rising once more.
Considering the state of Commander Huntington, she expected it to take several attempts to raise anyone inside. She was surprised when her father shouted,” Come!,” and the door slid open before her.
Stepping inside, she found Miquel Cardonez and Admiral Gavin sitting in easy chairs with a tab;e standing between them. On the tabletop was a chess set and it appeared that they were in the middle of a game. Two half-full glasses of a murky brown liquid stood beside the chess set.
“Hi, Izzie,” her father said.
Cardonez surveyed the scene for a moment. She was amazed to find that it was the exact opposite of what she had expected. “I must have the wrong room.”
“Really?,” asked Gavin.
“Yes,” she said. “Obviously, my Tactical Officer was drinking with someone else last night.”
“Hah!,” the Admiral said with a laugh. “Don’t tell me that he’s still feeling fragile? Young officers have no stomach for alcohol anymore.” He continued to chortle, mostly to himself.
“He should be okay by now. My Chief Medical Officer gave him a little pick me up. As I assume that yours has as well?,” she inquired with a raised eyebrow.
Her father picked up a black knight and gestured at Gavin. His doctor, not mine,” he said before he made his move and sat back in his chair with a smug look on his face.
“Damn,” Gavin said, staring intently at the board,” I didn’t see that coming.” He turned his head towards Cardonez. “My doctor has a lot of experience in devising hangover cures over the years and she has it down to a fire art. I can get her to send your doctor the formula if you want?”
“No, thanks,” she said. “My father always told me that a hangover is nature’s way of ensuring that you don’t drink too much. The last thing that I want to do is encourage some of my officers.”
Gavin pursed his lips before turning back to the game, lifting a rook to move it. “Did you really teach her that?”
“You know I think I did.”
Tired of being made fun of and almost without thinking, Cardonez walked towards her Commanding Officer and her father. In one deft move, she tipped the chess set over, scattering the pieces all over the floor. “Enough!,” she barked before she realized who she was barking at and became suddenly quiet.
A long pause followed before anyone said anything. She wondered if her career had taken a sudden nosedive when her father said, sighing. “She gets her temper from her mother, of course.”
“Hmm, I’m not so sure. That fiery Romulan blood probably doesn’t help but her father was a little Latino firecracker himself once, if I remember correctly,” Gavin said with a smile.
Cardonez couldn’t help herself but laugh.
“That’s more like it,” Miquel said. “Now grab a seat and join us for a drink.”
Cardonez composed herself. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see the Admiral. I have an away team that’s out of contact. They’re probably safe but I have no way to verify it at the moment. I’d like permission to take the Testudo out and look for them.”
“Fine.”
“‘Fine’?,” Cardonez asked. “But I thought you wanted to see me? You made it sound like it was important.”
“I just wanted to see how you were doing. The Ark Royal was scheduled to stop here anyway. I thought I could kill two birds with one stone.”
Cardonez visibly relaxed “I thought that maybe you wanted to discuss my actions in fighting the Aora?,” she asked him.
“There’s no need,” said the Admiral. “I read your report and the reports of your senior staff, finding no faults with your actions.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry about the game.”
“You should,” said Mqiuel. “I was about to win.”
“Always stretching the truth, Miquel?,” asked Gavin.
“Dad, I’m sorry that I have to run but…”
“I know. Your crew needs you. Take it from me. A Captain should always trust a hunch. Besides, the Devonshire is going to be in this neck of the woods for the next few months, making supply runs. I guess we’ll run into each other.”
He was smiling and Isabel returned it. Turning to leave, she stopped and, ignoring the senior officer present, run and hugged her arms around her father’s neck.
“Hey! What’s wrong?,” he asked as he heard her stifle a sob.
“I visited Mom’s grave on Taliron IV. I’m sorry. I know we always said that we’d go together but I was in the neighborhood.”
“That’s okay. I was thinking of swinging the Devonshire that way myself, anyways. With or without you.”
Cardonez pulled away from him. “So you don’t mind?”
“No. I’m sure that Tessel is looking down from wherever she is and feeling very proud of you. Just like I am,” he said. “Now… go find your people.”
She stood up. “Thanks, Dad,” she said before he turned and walked towards the door. Just before it could slide open, she stopped and looked back. “How come you two know each other?”
“It’s no secret. Your father taught Elementary Tactical Dynamics in my first year at the Academy and we became good friends.”
Cardonez’s face darkened slightly. “I take it that my promotion was earned, based on my own merits, rather than because of who my father knew?”
“Of course,” the Admiral said but she swore that his words lacked conviction.
“Good,” she replied. “Lots of people have seen my Latina temper. Very few have seen the Romulan side of me. Although she smiled as she said it, there was a hint of steel behind her words and as she left, Gavin felt a chill.
Miquel Cardonez turned to stare at his friend.
“Not you, too?,” James Gavin asked him. “Look, admirals who play favorites tend to get found out very quickly. Trust me. Isabel made it on her own.”
In spite of knowing him over forty years, Miquel couldn’t tell if his friend was lying or not.
Liz Tennyson took a deep breath. “That’s better.”
Both of her companions heartily agreed with her. She had gotten the environmental systems up and running and now they were out of their environmental suits. “Good job on the subspace communicator, by the way, Commander.”
“Thank you,” Yashiro Masafumi said with a slight bow of his head. “It’s unfortunate that the storm is still raging above us or else we could call for assistance.”
The three Starfleet officers were sitting in the rear compartment of the runabout around the table with the remains of a meal in front of them. As soon as the environmental systems were back online, Kehen had suggested food. Neither he or the engineer had been opposed to that idea.
While they had eaten, they hadn’t discussed the visions that all of them had experienced. Though the Commander decided to bring it up. “What about our mysterious visitors?,” he asked. “What were they? How do they exist on a supposedly uninhabited world?”
“Is it possible that they’re representatives of the Primons?,” asked Tennyson.
“Yes and no. On one hand, their physical appearance tallies with what the archaeologists have discovered on Primus III.”
“But?,” queried Kehen.
“The Primons died out, nine hundred years ago. They had only reached a level of sophistication equivalent to an Iron Age culture. There is no way that they could have traveled to this world.”
“Maybe someone brought them here?,” suggested Tennyson. “Maybe the Preservers?”
Masafumi considered this. “It’s a possibility. The notion of the Preservers has become derided in the last forty years but there are still several examples of societies that clearly evolved on one planet being discovered on another. Perhaps they transplanted them here when they realized that they were about to die out on Primus III?”
“That still doesn’t answer the question of what those illusions were.”
“Klaides,” said Kehen.
“Excuse me?,” asked Masafumi.
“Klaides,” the Yulani woman said again as if that should be enough of an explanation. When no response was forthcoming, she explained. “You know, ghosts.”
Masafumi felt another shiver go down his spine but he laughed out loud anyway. “Ghosts!,” he said, balking at the suggestion.
“Give me another explanation then. After all, you’re the Science Officer,” Kehen said with barely concealed glee.
“Well, you did say that you couldn’t explain it, Commander,” said Tennyson.
“Just because I don’t have an explanation at the moment, it doesn’t mean that we should begin to believe in ghosts and goblins.”
Kehen saw through his bluster. “Commander, I’ll reserve judgment until you tell me what it was. Until you do, I’ll choose to believe what I will. And right now, I believe that we’re seeing the images of souls long dead.”
Masafumi snorted. “Lieutenant…,” he began to say but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Instead, he turned to Tennyson for support. “Lieutenant, surely you don’t believe in this nonsense?”
“Like the girl said, show us some proof otherwise.” She didn’t believe in ghosts for a second but the Commander needed to be pulled down a peg or two.
“Incredible,” he said, shaking his head. “That modern people could still cling to the belief of shades and spirits. I’m sure that if Commander Huntington were here, he would regale us with tales of dark and stormy nights and headless horsemen.”
“Probably,” Tennyson said, playfully.
“Well, perhaps we should endeavor to get some sleep,” the Commander said, keen to end this conversation before he said anything that he would regret. “I think that one of us should remain on the flight deck, in case the storm subsides.” Both women nodded in agreement. “Very well. I’ll take the first watch.”
“I’ll go next,” said Tennyson.
“Excellent. I’ll wake you up in four hours.”
Yashiro made his way forward to the flight deck. He got himself a cup of green tea from the replicator and made himself comfortable in the pilot’s chair. It was going to be a long night, he reflected and laughed when he realized how absurd his thoughts were. Primus IV rotated on its axis every two weeks so nights were always long here.
* * * *
Despite a good night’s sleep, Captain Isabel Cardonez was fuming when she walked onto the Bridge. Despite repeated attempts to find the Admiral, she was unable to locate him. She had finally contacted the Ark Royal, only to be told that he had left strict instructions not to be disturbed. The first thing that she noticed was that Lieutenant Commander Huntington wasn’t at his post. In fact, the only senior officer on the Bridge was Lieutenant Kandro.
“Lieutenant, where is Commander Huntington?,” she asked the Betazoid Operations Officer.
Kandro seemed flustered and he took several seconds to answer. “He’s in Sickbay, sir.”
“Is he ill?,” Cardonez asked with a certain notion already in mind as to what that sickness could be.
Kandro hesitated again. “Well…,” he began.
Cardonez held a finger up. “Let me explain the ranking structure to you, Lieutenant,” she said, emphasizing his rank. “Lieutenant Commander Huntington has two and a half pips. Captain Cardonez has four pips. Do you understand what that means?”
Kandro fully knew what it meant. “He’s hungover, sir.”
“Thank you,” she said with her suspicions confirmed. Changing tack, she asked,” Any news from the Snohomish?”
“No, sir. However, long-range probes indicate that the storm hasn’t subsided yet.”
“Plot a course for the Primus system. I’m going to see if I can pin the Admiral down.”
“Worried about them?,” asked Kandro.
“Just a bit.”
“Me too.”
“Well, let’s see if we can’t arrange to go pick them up,” the Captain said with a smile before she spinned on her heels and walked off of the Bridge.
* * * *
A very disheveled-looking Adam Huntington sat uncomfortably on the edge of a biobed in Sickbay while Doctor Hollem Azahn scanned him with a tricorder, an amazed look on his face. “Commander, I really can’t recommend imbibing this much alcohol in one sitting. Especially in so many varieties.”
“Could you speak a little quieter, please?”
“Of course,” the Bajoran said, lowering his voice. “I’m reading vodka, Klingon bloodwine, Antaran mead and something that I sincerely hope isn’t Romulan ale.” There was a suspicious look in his eyes. “There’s something else as well. Do you know what it was?”
“No,” Huntington told him. “All I remember was that it was green.”
“Hmm,” Hollem said, picking up a hypospray that he loaded with a honey-colored substance. “Now this shot won’t clear away all of the symptoms but it will suppress them and enable you to function. I would recommend getting something to eat and drink. Water preferably, after I give it to you.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” the Tactical Officer said with a weak smile.
Before he could get the shot, his commanding officer arrived. “Ah, Commander! I’ve been looking for you,” she said and although she wasn’t exactly shouting, her words were loud enough to send shards of pain through her Tactical Officer’s head.
She took the hypospray out of Hollem’s hand. “Hangover cure?,” she asked and the Doctor nodded. “But that would imply that you had a hangover, Commander…” Her faux shock was evident on her face.
“I’m sorry,” he said with a pathetic smile. “They’re both superior officers but I don’t suppose you’d believe that they ordered me to join them?”
“Not remotely, Commander. Now then, maybe you can tell me where the Admiral is? No one aboard the Ark Royal is talking.”
Huntington looked longingly at the hypospray. “When I left them, they were in your father’s cabin aboard the Devonshire. That was an hour or two ago.”
“You were drinking all night?”
“We have a lot of things in common. You young Starfleet types wouldn’t understand,” he joked.
“Tempting as it is to order the doctor here not to treat you, I can’t do without my Tactical Officer for long,” she said, handing the hypospray back to Hollem. “I expect you on the Bridge when I get back,” she added before she exited the room.
“Wow, the Captain’s peeves,” the doctor said before he turned and began to walk towards his office.
“Doctor?,” Huntington shouted, his head exploding in pain again.
“Yes?”
“My injection?,” he asked, pointing at the hypospray in his hand.
“Oh, oops. Sorry.” He hastily returned and gave him his shot.
“Ahhh, thank you, Doctor,” Adam said before sliding off of the biobed and heading out the door.
* * * *
Yashiro Masafumi didn’t want to wake up. He was in the middle of a wonderful dream and he desperately wanted to stay there. The bright light shining against his eyelids wouldn’t allow him though and he slowly drifted back to consciousness. Squinting against the light, he managed to read the chronometer on the control panel in front of him. He was amazed to discover that he should have roused Liz Tennyson an hour before. It was only at that moment when he realized that there shouldn’t be light streaming in through the windows. Shielding his eyes as best as he could, he looked out one of the forward windows of the runabout and saw an amazing light.
A hundred meters ahead of the runabout was an explosion of light composed of one large white light that was surrounded by a myriad of smaller, differently colored lights. The smaller lights were strung out over what looked like a large crystal that was several meters in height and width. As he watched, a being emerged from behind the crystal. The being was the same as the ones seen earlier. A Primon, MAsafumi assumed, but he wore clothing that seemed more modern, a brown suit of some kind. It still looked like animal skin but it appeared to have been rudimentarily tailored.
Despite his fascination, he tapped his combadge. “Tennyson! Kehen! Get up here now!”
While he waited, he tried to study the structure in better detail. The smaller lights seemed to be individual crystals of varying hues. While the light that obviously shone from the large crystal was white, it changed depending on which of the smaller crystals it shone through.
“Wow!,” Kehen said as she and Tennyson arrived to take in the sight. Neither woman wore their uniform jackets, but otherwise, they were fully dressed.
“Indeed,” said Masafumi.
“What is it?,” asked Liz.
As they watched, the Primon turned to face the crystal, falling to its knees in supplication.
“I think that it’s a place of religious worship. A church or an icon of some kind,” Masafumi said, never taking his eyes off of the spectacle.
“They built that?,” asked Tennyson.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Large crystals like this have been known to be naturally occurring. It’s possible that the Primons modified it with the smaller crystals but I don’t think this was anything that they built.”
“But the light, surely?”
“Not necessarily,” said Kehen. “On Yulan, there is the Cave of Montas. It’s several kilometers underground but it’s as bright as day, thanks to its luminous mold.”
“Agreed,” Masafumi said. “I think that it’s a naturally occurring phenomenon that the primitive Primons latched onto as a symbol of something greater than them.”
Without any warning, the vision suddenly disappeared. For several seconds afterwards, each of the Starfleet officers could still see it imprinted on their retinas. Seconds seconds after that, a large rumbling shook the runabout.
“What the hell…,” Tennyson muttered as the tremor subsided.
Masafumi quickly accessed the console in front of him. “It was an earth tremor, two kilometers away.” He continued to read information as fast as the computer could provide it before commenting,” Fascinating.”
“What?,” asked Liz.
“Apparently, the crust of this planet is very thin in some places and we’re sitting on top of such a place. There appears to be huge caverns underneath us. The sensors indicate that they’re full of methane.”
“So?,” asked Kehen. “The atmosphere is mostly methane anyway.”
“Fifty-one percent, to be more accurate,” the Commander said,” and it’s probably nothing. Just an idea that I’m currently formulating.”
“What idea?”
He smiled at Tennyson. “A good scientist doesn’t publish his results until he has a working hypothesis.”
“Are we in any danger?”
“Quite possibly. It appears that we destabilized this area of the ground when we crashed here. That tremor was a forerunner to a greater one to come.”
“How long?,” Kehen asked him, nervously, remembering her fear from after they had landed.
“It’s impossible to predict accurately. However, I would estimate it to be any time between a few hours and a few weeks.”
“There’s nothing like estimation to worry the hell out of you,” Tennyson said. “I guess that cancels out the idea of sitting here and waiting for rescue.”
“Indeed. It’s imperative that we repair the impulse engines and take off as soon as we can. Lieutenant, while I understand your professional pride may preclude you from allowing us to help you, I suggest that Lieutenant Kehen and I repair the cracked starboard engine housing while you direct your greater skill to the more complex faults on the port engine.”
It took her a moment to respond. She still hadn’t figured him out. Was it her imagination or did he just insult her and praise her all in the same sentence? She couldn’t doubt the logic of his words however.
“Good plan, Commander.”
“Lieutenant,” he asked Kehen,” will you be all right this time?”
“Sure,” she replied uneasily with an equally uneasy smile. “I didn’t know what I was scared of before. Now, at least, I know that it’s the ground caving in under me.”
If he heard the sarcasm in her voice, he ignored it. “That’s the spirit,” Masafumi told her. “Let’s get suited up.”
* * * *
Captain Cardonez experienced no resistance when she beamed aboard the Devonshire. Instead, the young crewman in the Transporter Room had eagerly pointed her in the direction of her father’s cabin. Now she walked through empty corridors towards it. The Miranda-class starship wasn’t much smaller than her own ship but most of the Miranda-class ships had been heavily modified in recent years. No longer adequate for tactical or exploratory missions, most of them had either been retired from duty or converted to carry cargo as the Devonshire had been. As such, its crew complement hovered around twenty-five crewmembers. So she wasn’t surprised when she encountered no one between the Transporter Room and her father’s cabin.
Reaching her destination, she suddenly felt nervous for the first time. Ever since the Admiral had ignored her, she had been getting very frustrated. Hiding from her and getting her Tactical Officer drunk had merely exacerbated her feelings to the point where she was ready to scream at Gavin. Whether he was an Admiral or not. Now at the end of her quest, she hesitated. In truth, she wasn’t sure who she was angrier at. Him or her father.
Aren’t they both male authority figures prevalent in my life?, she considered. Perhaps I see the Admiral as a surrogate father figure? Maybe I should have a chat with the ship’s counselor when I get back?
Cardonez shook her head. “Bullshit,” she muttered before hitting the door chimes, her anger rising once more.
Considering the state of Commander Huntington, she expected it to take several attempts to raise anyone inside. She was surprised when her father shouted,” Come!,” and the door slid open before her.
Stepping inside, she found Miquel Cardonez and Admiral Gavin sitting in easy chairs with a tab;e standing between them. On the tabletop was a chess set and it appeared that they were in the middle of a game. Two half-full glasses of a murky brown liquid stood beside the chess set.
“Hi, Izzie,” her father said.
Cardonez surveyed the scene for a moment. She was amazed to find that it was the exact opposite of what she had expected. “I must have the wrong room.”
“Really?,” asked Gavin.
“Yes,” she said. “Obviously, my Tactical Officer was drinking with someone else last night.”
“Hah!,” the Admiral said with a laugh. “Don’t tell me that he’s still feeling fragile? Young officers have no stomach for alcohol anymore.” He continued to chortle, mostly to himself.
“He should be okay by now. My Chief Medical Officer gave him a little pick me up. As I assume that yours has as well?,” she inquired with a raised eyebrow.
Her father picked up a black knight and gestured at Gavin. His doctor, not mine,” he said before he made his move and sat back in his chair with a smug look on his face.
“Damn,” Gavin said, staring intently at the board,” I didn’t see that coming.” He turned his head towards Cardonez. “My doctor has a lot of experience in devising hangover cures over the years and she has it down to a fire art. I can get her to send your doctor the formula if you want?”
“No, thanks,” she said. “My father always told me that a hangover is nature’s way of ensuring that you don’t drink too much. The last thing that I want to do is encourage some of my officers.”
Gavin pursed his lips before turning back to the game, lifting a rook to move it. “Did you really teach her that?”
“You know I think I did.”
Tired of being made fun of and almost without thinking, Cardonez walked towards her Commanding Officer and her father. In one deft move, she tipped the chess set over, scattering the pieces all over the floor. “Enough!,” she barked before she realized who she was barking at and became suddenly quiet.
A long pause followed before anyone said anything. She wondered if her career had taken a sudden nosedive when her father said, sighing. “She gets her temper from her mother, of course.”
“Hmm, I’m not so sure. That fiery Romulan blood probably doesn’t help but her father was a little Latino firecracker himself once, if I remember correctly,” Gavin said with a smile.
Cardonez couldn’t help herself but laugh.
“That’s more like it,” Miquel said. “Now grab a seat and join us for a drink.”
Cardonez composed herself. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see the Admiral. I have an away team that’s out of contact. They’re probably safe but I have no way to verify it at the moment. I’d like permission to take the Testudo out and look for them.”
“Fine.”
“‘Fine’?,” Cardonez asked. “But I thought you wanted to see me? You made it sound like it was important.”
“I just wanted to see how you were doing. The Ark Royal was scheduled to stop here anyway. I thought I could kill two birds with one stone.”
Cardonez visibly relaxed “I thought that maybe you wanted to discuss my actions in fighting the Aora?,” she asked him.
“There’s no need,” said the Admiral. “I read your report and the reports of your senior staff, finding no faults with your actions.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry about the game.”
“You should,” said Mqiuel. “I was about to win.”
“Always stretching the truth, Miquel?,” asked Gavin.
“Dad, I’m sorry that I have to run but…”
“I know. Your crew needs you. Take it from me. A Captain should always trust a hunch. Besides, the Devonshire is going to be in this neck of the woods for the next few months, making supply runs. I guess we’ll run into each other.”
He was smiling and Isabel returned it. Turning to leave, she stopped and, ignoring the senior officer present, run and hugged her arms around her father’s neck.
“Hey! What’s wrong?,” he asked as he heard her stifle a sob.
“I visited Mom’s grave on Taliron IV. I’m sorry. I know we always said that we’d go together but I was in the neighborhood.”
“That’s okay. I was thinking of swinging the Devonshire that way myself, anyways. With or without you.”
Cardonez pulled away from him. “So you don’t mind?”
“No. I’m sure that Tessel is looking down from wherever she is and feeling very proud of you. Just like I am,” he said. “Now… go find your people.”
She stood up. “Thanks, Dad,” she said before he turned and walked towards the door. Just before it could slide open, she stopped and looked back. “How come you two know each other?”
“It’s no secret. Your father taught Elementary Tactical Dynamics in my first year at the Academy and we became good friends.”
Cardonez’s face darkened slightly. “I take it that my promotion was earned, based on my own merits, rather than because of who my father knew?”
“Of course,” the Admiral said but she swore that his words lacked conviction.
“Good,” she replied. “Lots of people have seen my Latina temper. Very few have seen the Romulan side of me. Although she smiled as she said it, there was a hint of steel behind her words and as she left, Gavin felt a chill.
Miquel Cardonez turned to stare at his friend.
“Not you, too?,” James Gavin asked him. “Look, admirals who play favorites tend to get found out very quickly. Trust me. Isabel made it on her own.”
In spite of knowing him over forty years, Miquel couldn’t tell if his friend was lying or not.
Quite the fun interactions, both on the shuttle and with the Cardonezes. Familial jostling is always interesting in the fan fiction genre.
Thanks!! rbs
Sweet TOC callback!
Thanks!! rbs
Only Starfleet officers can hold their Aldebaran whiskey… Maybe…
Chapter Four
They had been outside the ship for only twenty minutes but the weather had worsened to such an extent during that time that, despite having cleared the snow around the runabout, they were now standing in a layer of snow that came up to their ankles. Snow continued to fall down around them, making their tasks even harder.
“Damn it,” Kehen said, a tube of liquid polymer in her hands,” the sealant still won’t bond.”
“It’s the snow getting into the mix and contaminating it,” Masafumi said, brushing snow away from the cracked engine housing.
“Give me your tricorder,” he said. Taking it from her, he opened it up and placed it over the crack so that it acted as a tent, keeping the snow off of the crack. “Okay, let’s see if I can clean the fissure out.” Yashiro started using his phaser to clear away any residue of ice or polymer from the crack. “That’s done. You should be able to use the sealant now.”
When there was no response, he turned to find Kehen staring off into the distance.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
Masafumi followed her gaze and in the distance, he saw the familiar light of the crystal that they had seen earlier. However, the crystal was now farther away and in a different direction. It was also surrounded by a group of houses. At least, he assumed that they were houses. They were dome-shaped. They appeared to have windows and a tall door. Lights shove out of the windows and steam rose from the top of the dwellings.
Taking the sealant away from Kehen, Masafumi willed himself to look away. This had the potential to be a find of supreme importance but it would be lost if they didn’t escape before the next tremor. Spraying the sealant into the crack, he watched with satisfaction when, this time, the liquid polymer solidified without any more problems. Flipping open his own tricorder, he confirmed that the fissure was fully sealed before he allowed himself to look back.
The dwellings were gone but Kehen was still staring ahead. Now a group of much larger structures was visible. These structures were less symmetrical and they rose several hundred meters into the air. Masafumi saw things that he recognized though, windows and doors at the bottom of the structures. In a way, they reminded him of skyscrapers but they were smaller and much more artistic in design. On some floors, protrusions jutted out but none of them were the same. While one of them was rectangular with a large window in it, another building was a bulbous form with a myriad of tiny round windows. Its entire design was the antithesis of conformity and he found himself liking the Primons.
It was definitely beyond an Iron Age culture.
As they watched, they noticed dozens of Primons moving in and around the structures. Now the image vanished but returned a moment later. This time, the number of buildings was greater and they seemed to be closer as if the conurbation was expanding in their direction. The buildings were taller as well and better constructed, although they maintained their erratic design ethic. Now as well as Primons on the ground, there were Primons in the air, flitting around the buildings like a multitude of tiny fairies.
“They’re flying?,” Kehen asked incredulously.
“They must have developed anti-gravity technology.”
They watched for a few more seconds more. Then the image faded and all that they could see was empty blackness and falling snow.
They still continued to stare and it was only the voice of Liz Tennyson over their communicators that brought them back to reality. “Commander, have you finished yet?”
“Yes, Lieutenant. The engine casing is sealed. It isn’t perfect but it’ll be sufficient to get us, at least, as far as Primus III. How is your side going?”
“Don’t ask,” she told him. “The ionization has burned out most of the control circuits. I’ve begun replacing or repairing them but it’s a big job.”
“All that we need is impulse power for a few minutes so we can relocate to firmer ground.”
“To be honest, sir, the amount of work that it will take will be the same, whether we need the engine to run for sixty seconds or sixty minutes.”
“Understood, Lieutenant. How long?”
“At least, an hour or two.”
“Damn. Is there anything we can do to help?”
“No, sir. There’s barely enough room for me to work on the systems, let alone someone else… Whoa!”
“What is it, Lieutenant?”
“You should get around here. It’s wonderful.”
Masafumi and Kehen looked at each other. “Another apparition so soon?,” the Yulani asked.
He ignored the reference to ghosts. “It appears so, Lieutenant. Let’s go.”
They trudged around to the other side of the runabout and as they cleared the stern of the vessel, they immediately noticed that it was bright again. This was, by far, the largest vision so far and it stretched as far as the eye could see in front of them and into the sky. Kehen shielded her eyes as she stared up into a pale pink cloudless sky that was lit by a pale sun. around them was what looked like a harbor of sorts. The cover was wide and the sea was dark, yet inviting. As they watched, the vista seemed to visibly move in their direction, expanding until they were a part of it. Now they were standing on a crowded beach. All around them were Primons that were staring up at something. Masafumi could no longer see the runabout or Lieutenant Tennyson but after checking his tricorder, he led Kehen onwards until he saw the Chief Engineer standing between two well-dressed Primons.
“Lieutenant, are you all right?”
“Yes,” she replied, pointing up at where the Primons were looking. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
As Commander Masafumi and Lieutenant Kehen turned, both of them gasped. Standing inland, several kilometers away was what looked to be a spaceship. It was tall and well over a hundred meters high. It was of an elliptical shape and it stood on one end. Its surface was mottled, gray, and much like the Primons’ buildings, it was irregular in composition. Near the base of the ship were several large green globes.
“Are those anti-gravity generators?,” asked Masafumi.
“Yes. Primitive in design but they’re definitely anti-gravity generators,” Tennyson said. “Isn’t it fantastic? I wonder if it’s their first attempt to travel beyond their world.”
“We may never know.”
As they watched, the crowd became excited and began pointing off towards the ship. In the distance, the anti-gravity generators were glowing red now and the ship began to gracefully lift off of the ground. Slowly but surely, it rose up into the sky until they couldn’t see it any longer. Only then, did the three Starfleet officers lower their gaze.
It was Kehen who screamed first.
All around them, what had been an excited throng of people was now writhing in obvious agony on the sand.
“What’s wrong with them?,” asked Tennyson.
Clinically, Commander Masafumi dropped to a crouch beside a young Primon woman. Her face was twisted in agony and she seemed to be fighting for her every breath. As he watched her, her struggle slowly ceased until she was still, her face pale and her eyes lifeless. “They’ve been suffocated or poisoned in some way. My hypothesis is looking more likely.” As he spoke, the images faded and once again, the three of them were alone in the dark.
“What hypothesis?,” asked Kehen.
Masafumi gestured at Tennyson. “Lieutenant, continue with the repairs,” he said before he answered Kehen’s question. “From what we’ve seen, the Primons were native to this world. However, every indication from Primus III is that the Primons were oxygen breathers like ourselves. Primus III is a Class-M planet, as I believe that this planet once was.”
“But the atmosphere?,” asked Liz.
“Oh, yes, the atmosphere. Remember what I said? This world has a very thin crust in places and there are huge underground caverns filled with methane. I think that this world experiences an ecological disaster that was part of what we just witnessed. Earthquakes shattered the fragile surface and flooded the planet with methane. It might not have been instantaneous. It may have taken months or years, but eventually, the entire ecology of this world changed. And it killed the Primons.”
“But not all of them, right?,” Kehen asked, knowingly.
“Some must have survived. They obviously had some sort of space program that was just enough to transplant a few of them to Primus III,” Masafumi said, shaking his head,” but not enough to prosper. They probably lasted for a few generations. Slowly , they become less civilized until all of their accomplishments were gone and they died out.”
“Leaving what looked like an Iron Age culture on Primus III,” Tennyson said when all of the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
“Why look for evidence of life on a dead poisoned world when you have evidence of an ancient civilization on Primus III?”
“It still doesn’t explain where the Klaides come from though, does it?,” asked Kehen.
“No,” Masafumi said quietly,” it doesn’t.”
* * * *
An hour and a half passed by before the repairs were complete and the three Starfleet officers could gratefully shed their suits. Now they sat on the flight deck, waiting anxiously.
“Power is rising. Thirty percent,” Liz said. “Just a little more. Now.”
At that point, Kehen began a pre-launch countdown. “Engines are online. No problems so far.”
At the rear of each pylon, the impulse engines glowed with blue energy.
“Sensors indicate that the storm is subsiding. It’s down to Level Two on the Verek scale,” said Masafumi. “It’s nothing that we can’t handle.”
“Good,” Kehen said from the helm. “Ready when you are?”
“Take us up,” he said. “No, wait.” The view outside the viewscreen was replaced once again.
“Commander, if we don’t leave now, the ground might cave it underneath us.”
“Yes, but whatever this is, it must be nearing its end. This might be our only chance to find out what’s happened to us down there,” he said.
“Someone else can come back when it’s safe,” said Lieutenant Tennyson.
“There’s no guarantee that anyone else could experience the same thing.”
“The Commander’s right, Liz,” said Kehen. “We can’t just leave the story without an ending.”
“I don’t believe this. You two are mad, you know that?”
“Lieutenant, I could order us to stay, despite the fact that I have no desire to put us in jeopardy but this is the sort of thing that every Starfleet officer dreams about. The unknown. An alien civilization that no longer exists. We owe it to history to stay.”
“Speak about yourself! I only dream about warp cores and developing better engines.”
“Liz, please?,” the pilot pleaded with her. “Look at these people. They were on the verge of venturing out into the unknown, just like my people were, not too long ago. Just like your people did, centuries ago. If Yulan had been destroyed before we achieved warp flight, I would, at least, like to know that we weren’t forgotten.”
Tennyson looked at them. They’re really willing to risk everything for a glimpse of the unknown, aren’t they?, she thought. “Okay, but if we get killed, I’m going to haunt both of you, wherever we end up,” she said, smiling.
Now free to direct their vision towards the windows, they looked in with awe.
They were in an auditorium of some kind that was unlike any that they had seen before. The place seemed to be semi-circular but whereas a theater would have a stage and then rows of seats rising up higher and away from it, it was the reverse here. Rows of seats started down low and slowly rose up to a stage. On the stage was a giant crystal, much like the one that they had seen earlier, although its light seemed to be somehow brighter. By its side was a lone Primon who seemed to be old. Although tall as all Primons were, he stooped somewhat and his green skin was wrinkled.
As they watched, he manipulated a control panel beside the crystal and a moment later, the crystal began to pulse with light. First with orange. Then red. Then white, and then orange again. Once this was done, the old Primon turned and began to walk down the stairway that bisected the seating. He was heading directly for them.
“That crystal again,” said Masafumi. “I wonder what its significance is?”
“I think you were right before,” said Kehen. “Maybe it began as a religious symbol but it became something else. Maybe a symbol of their society?”
“Possibly.”
As the old man drew closer, they saw that he wore long flowing robes. The robes were green but they appeared to have tiny crystals embedded in them. None of them were surprised when he walked straight through the front of the ship, passing through Kehen on his way. After a few steps, he turned and seemed to regard all of them.
“I think he can see us. How is that possible?,” asked Kehen.
“It simply is,” said the old man, shocking them all. His voice was low and rasping as if he was unused to their words.
They had been outside the ship for only twenty minutes but the weather had worsened to such an extent during that time that, despite having cleared the snow around the runabout, they were now standing in a layer of snow that came up to their ankles. Snow continued to fall down around them, making their tasks even harder.
“Damn it,” Kehen said, a tube of liquid polymer in her hands,” the sealant still won’t bond.”
“It’s the snow getting into the mix and contaminating it,” Masafumi said, brushing snow away from the cracked engine housing.
“Give me your tricorder,” he said. Taking it from her, he opened it up and placed it over the crack so that it acted as a tent, keeping the snow off of the crack. “Okay, let’s see if I can clean the fissure out.” Yashiro started using his phaser to clear away any residue of ice or polymer from the crack. “That’s done. You should be able to use the sealant now.”
When there was no response, he turned to find Kehen staring off into the distance.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
Masafumi followed her gaze and in the distance, he saw the familiar light of the crystal that they had seen earlier. However, the crystal was now farther away and in a different direction. It was also surrounded by a group of houses. At least, he assumed that they were houses. They were dome-shaped. They appeared to have windows and a tall door. Lights shove out of the windows and steam rose from the top of the dwellings.
Taking the sealant away from Kehen, Masafumi willed himself to look away. This had the potential to be a find of supreme importance but it would be lost if they didn’t escape before the next tremor. Spraying the sealant into the crack, he watched with satisfaction when, this time, the liquid polymer solidified without any more problems. Flipping open his own tricorder, he confirmed that the fissure was fully sealed before he allowed himself to look back.
The dwellings were gone but Kehen was still staring ahead. Now a group of much larger structures was visible. These structures were less symmetrical and they rose several hundred meters into the air. Masafumi saw things that he recognized though, windows and doors at the bottom of the structures. In a way, they reminded him of skyscrapers but they were smaller and much more artistic in design. On some floors, protrusions jutted out but none of them were the same. While one of them was rectangular with a large window in it, another building was a bulbous form with a myriad of tiny round windows. Its entire design was the antithesis of conformity and he found himself liking the Primons.
It was definitely beyond an Iron Age culture.
As they watched, they noticed dozens of Primons moving in and around the structures. Now the image vanished but returned a moment later. This time, the number of buildings was greater and they seemed to be closer as if the conurbation was expanding in their direction. The buildings were taller as well and better constructed, although they maintained their erratic design ethic. Now as well as Primons on the ground, there were Primons in the air, flitting around the buildings like a multitude of tiny fairies.
“They’re flying?,” Kehen asked incredulously.
“They must have developed anti-gravity technology.”
They watched for a few more seconds more. Then the image faded and all that they could see was empty blackness and falling snow.
They still continued to stare and it was only the voice of Liz Tennyson over their communicators that brought them back to reality. “Commander, have you finished yet?”
“Yes, Lieutenant. The engine casing is sealed. It isn’t perfect but it’ll be sufficient to get us, at least, as far as Primus III. How is your side going?”
“Don’t ask,” she told him. “The ionization has burned out most of the control circuits. I’ve begun replacing or repairing them but it’s a big job.”
“All that we need is impulse power for a few minutes so we can relocate to firmer ground.”
“To be honest, sir, the amount of work that it will take will be the same, whether we need the engine to run for sixty seconds or sixty minutes.”
“Understood, Lieutenant. How long?”
“At least, an hour or two.”
“Damn. Is there anything we can do to help?”
“No, sir. There’s barely enough room for me to work on the systems, let alone someone else… Whoa!”
“What is it, Lieutenant?”
“You should get around here. It’s wonderful.”
Masafumi and Kehen looked at each other. “Another apparition so soon?,” the Yulani asked.
He ignored the reference to ghosts. “It appears so, Lieutenant. Let’s go.”
They trudged around to the other side of the runabout and as they cleared the stern of the vessel, they immediately noticed that it was bright again. This was, by far, the largest vision so far and it stretched as far as the eye could see in front of them and into the sky. Kehen shielded her eyes as she stared up into a pale pink cloudless sky that was lit by a pale sun. around them was what looked like a harbor of sorts. The cover was wide and the sea was dark, yet inviting. As they watched, the vista seemed to visibly move in their direction, expanding until they were a part of it. Now they were standing on a crowded beach. All around them were Primons that were staring up at something. Masafumi could no longer see the runabout or Lieutenant Tennyson but after checking his tricorder, he led Kehen onwards until he saw the Chief Engineer standing between two well-dressed Primons.
“Lieutenant, are you all right?”
“Yes,” she replied, pointing up at where the Primons were looking. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
As Commander Masafumi and Lieutenant Kehen turned, both of them gasped. Standing inland, several kilometers away was what looked to be a spaceship. It was tall and well over a hundred meters high. It was of an elliptical shape and it stood on one end. Its surface was mottled, gray, and much like the Primons’ buildings, it was irregular in composition. Near the base of the ship were several large green globes.
“Are those anti-gravity generators?,” asked Masafumi.
“Yes. Primitive in design but they’re definitely anti-gravity generators,” Tennyson said. “Isn’t it fantastic? I wonder if it’s their first attempt to travel beyond their world.”
“We may never know.”
As they watched, the crowd became excited and began pointing off towards the ship. In the distance, the anti-gravity generators were glowing red now and the ship began to gracefully lift off of the ground. Slowly but surely, it rose up into the sky until they couldn’t see it any longer. Only then, did the three Starfleet officers lower their gaze.
It was Kehen who screamed first.
All around them, what had been an excited throng of people was now writhing in obvious agony on the sand.
“What’s wrong with them?,” asked Tennyson.
Clinically, Commander Masafumi dropped to a crouch beside a young Primon woman. Her face was twisted in agony and she seemed to be fighting for her every breath. As he watched her, her struggle slowly ceased until she was still, her face pale and her eyes lifeless. “They’ve been suffocated or poisoned in some way. My hypothesis is looking more likely.” As he spoke, the images faded and once again, the three of them were alone in the dark.
“What hypothesis?,” asked Kehen.
Masafumi gestured at Tennyson. “Lieutenant, continue with the repairs,” he said before he answered Kehen’s question. “From what we’ve seen, the Primons were native to this world. However, every indication from Primus III is that the Primons were oxygen breathers like ourselves. Primus III is a Class-M planet, as I believe that this planet once was.”
“But the atmosphere?,” asked Liz.
“Oh, yes, the atmosphere. Remember what I said? This world has a very thin crust in places and there are huge underground caverns filled with methane. I think that this world experiences an ecological disaster that was part of what we just witnessed. Earthquakes shattered the fragile surface and flooded the planet with methane. It might not have been instantaneous. It may have taken months or years, but eventually, the entire ecology of this world changed. And it killed the Primons.”
“But not all of them, right?,” Kehen asked, knowingly.
“Some must have survived. They obviously had some sort of space program that was just enough to transplant a few of them to Primus III,” Masafumi said, shaking his head,” but not enough to prosper. They probably lasted for a few generations. Slowly , they become less civilized until all of their accomplishments were gone and they died out.”
“Leaving what looked like an Iron Age culture on Primus III,” Tennyson said when all of the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
“Why look for evidence of life on a dead poisoned world when you have evidence of an ancient civilization on Primus III?”
“It still doesn’t explain where the Klaides come from though, does it?,” asked Kehen.
“No,” Masafumi said quietly,” it doesn’t.”
* * * *
An hour and a half passed by before the repairs were complete and the three Starfleet officers could gratefully shed their suits. Now they sat on the flight deck, waiting anxiously.
“Power is rising. Thirty percent,” Liz said. “Just a little more. Now.”
At that point, Kehen began a pre-launch countdown. “Engines are online. No problems so far.”
At the rear of each pylon, the impulse engines glowed with blue energy.
“Sensors indicate that the storm is subsiding. It’s down to Level Two on the Verek scale,” said Masafumi. “It’s nothing that we can’t handle.”
“Good,” Kehen said from the helm. “Ready when you are?”
“Take us up,” he said. “No, wait.” The view outside the viewscreen was replaced once again.
“Commander, if we don’t leave now, the ground might cave it underneath us.”
“Yes, but whatever this is, it must be nearing its end. This might be our only chance to find out what’s happened to us down there,” he said.
“Someone else can come back when it’s safe,” said Lieutenant Tennyson.
“There’s no guarantee that anyone else could experience the same thing.”
“The Commander’s right, Liz,” said Kehen. “We can’t just leave the story without an ending.”
“I don’t believe this. You two are mad, you know that?”
“Lieutenant, I could order us to stay, despite the fact that I have no desire to put us in jeopardy but this is the sort of thing that every Starfleet officer dreams about. The unknown. An alien civilization that no longer exists. We owe it to history to stay.”
“Speak about yourself! I only dream about warp cores and developing better engines.”
“Liz, please?,” the pilot pleaded with her. “Look at these people. They were on the verge of venturing out into the unknown, just like my people were, not too long ago. Just like your people did, centuries ago. If Yulan had been destroyed before we achieved warp flight, I would, at least, like to know that we weren’t forgotten.”
Tennyson looked at them. They’re really willing to risk everything for a glimpse of the unknown, aren’t they?, she thought. “Okay, but if we get killed, I’m going to haunt both of you, wherever we end up,” she said, smiling.
Now free to direct their vision towards the windows, they looked in with awe.
They were in an auditorium of some kind that was unlike any that they had seen before. The place seemed to be semi-circular but whereas a theater would have a stage and then rows of seats rising up higher and away from it, it was the reverse here. Rows of seats started down low and slowly rose up to a stage. On the stage was a giant crystal, much like the one that they had seen earlier, although its light seemed to be somehow brighter. By its side was a lone Primon who seemed to be old. Although tall as all Primons were, he stooped somewhat and his green skin was wrinkled.
As they watched, he manipulated a control panel beside the crystal and a moment later, the crystal began to pulse with light. First with orange. Then red. Then white, and then orange again. Once this was done, the old Primon turned and began to walk down the stairway that bisected the seating. He was heading directly for them.
“That crystal again,” said Masafumi. “I wonder what its significance is?”
“I think you were right before,” said Kehen. “Maybe it began as a religious symbol but it became something else. Maybe a symbol of their society?”
“Possibly.”
As the old man drew closer, they saw that he wore long flowing robes. The robes were green but they appeared to have tiny crystals embedded in them. None of them were surprised when he walked straight through the front of the ship, passing through Kehen on his way. After a few steps, he turned and seemed to regard all of them.
“I think he can see us. How is that possible?,” asked Kehen.
“It simply is,” said the old man, shocking them all. His voice was low and rasping as if he was unused to their words.
Epilogue
“Who… who are you?,” asked Masafumi.
“I am not an illusion. Nor am I a ghost. Many thousands of years ago, my name was Tolk and I was the Chief Mystic of the Primon people.”
“You were called Primons? How can that be? The Federation named this star system.”
“The Human who named this system had the notion seeded in her mind to call it Primus.”
“By you?,” Liz asked, nervously.
Tolk bowed slightly. “Yes, by us.”
“Tolk,” Masafumi said,” what has been happening? What have we seen?”
“A representation of the time before Ascension.”
“Ascension? We thought that your people had died out,” said Kehen,” except for those who traveled to Primus III.”
“Many Primons died when the atmosphere became tainted. That was when the proposal was made. To shed our physical form and continue to exist as thought alone.”
“How?,” asked Masafumi.
“The host,” Tolk said, pointing off towards the giant crystal.
“The crystal?”
“It acts as a repository and an amplifier for our minds. Everything that you have seen was created in your thoughts by us.”
“Not ghosts, then,” said Kehen.
“No, we are alive. Perhaps, more alive than you.”
“What about the ones who traveled to Primus III?,” asked Masafumi.
Tolk sighed. “For many years before the air turned against us, there was a schism within our society between Science and Faith. Those of us who believed in the mind and the soul were ridiculed and ostracized, even though we were scientists as well. Pragmatism swept the people. When the time of death came, we offered the people the chance to ascend to a higher plane as we developed the means to do so. All but a few hundred refused, placing their trust in the pragmatists instead. They built a giant ship, larger than any of us had ever conceived. However, it could only save a few thousand. By the time that the rest realized that they wouldn’t be saved, we had already hidden the Host and ourselves. Over a hundred million Primons died in the next few cycles. Those who had hidden ascended to the Host while those who escaped to Primus III gradually forgot who they were and what they had learned. We mourned for many cycles when they died.”
“You couldn’t use your power to help them?,” asked Tennyson.
“No. Our ability to create visions or seed ideas is limited to this world. We couldn’t reach out to our brethren. We are able to communicate with you because you are close. The Human who named this system passed very close to this world when she conducted the first survey.”
“Why show us the past rather than just make contact with us?,” Masafumi asked.
“Your minds are…” Tolk paused as if he was trying to find the right words,” … different to ours. The images of the past allowed us to examine your thought processes and allowed you to see what led us to becoming as we are.”
“And now?”
“Now we can show you every aspect of the society that we once were. We will welcome your archaeologists to our world and we will show them anything that they want to know. However, we do not wish any real contact between our races. We are too different.”
Masafumi was confused. “Then why offer to show us your past?”
Tolk gave him a gentle smile. “We are not Primons anymore. We are something else. However, we want the Primon people to be known and remembered by others besides ourselves. They were a proud and noble race. They deserve that. Now, however, I think that it is time for you to leave this world. Remember. Your scientists may come to study our history but they must not search for the Host. It is well-hidden and we will defend it with all of our might. It is our world now, not this one.”
With those words passed onto the away team, Tolk disappeared, as did the vision outside.
Suddenly, the runabout began to shake, jarring the three officers out of their private thoughts. “Like the man said,” Tennyson said,” it’s time to leave.”
“Aye, sir,” Kehen said, manipulating the controls in front of her. The Snohomish rose unsteadily into the air. “Maneuverability is sluggish but controllable.”
“Main engines are online and functioning at eighty percent of efficiency,” reported Tennyson.
“Scans are starting to pierce through the storm,” said Masafumi. “It’s definitely receding.”
As the ship exited the atmosphere, an audio signal came through the runabout’s speakers. “I repeat. This is Testudo to Snohomish, come in.”
“I never thought I’d be happy to hear Valian’s dulcet tones,” Kehen said.
“This is the Snohomish. Commander Masafumi here. How may we help you, Lieutenant?”
“Commander, are you all right?,” came the voice of Captain Cardonez.
“We’re fine. We’ve had quite an adventure.”
“You’ll have to fill me in when you return. We’re on course now and we should be in the Primus system in a few hours.”
“Excellent. We’ll be with the archaeologist team on Primus III. We have some news for them. It seems that they’ve been digging in the wrong place. Masafumi out.”
Kehen turned to him. “So they weren’t Klaides after all,” she said with a smile.
“Yes, they were,” he said, smiling back at her. “Yes, they were.”
As the runabout cruised away, the small world of Primus IV sat waiting, dead and yet alive, with a whole history to teach whoever landed there.
The End.
“Who… who are you?,” asked Masafumi.
“I am not an illusion. Nor am I a ghost. Many thousands of years ago, my name was Tolk and I was the Chief Mystic of the Primon people.”
“You were called Primons? How can that be? The Federation named this star system.”
“The Human who named this system had the notion seeded in her mind to call it Primus.”
“By you?,” Liz asked, nervously.
Tolk bowed slightly. “Yes, by us.”
“Tolk,” Masafumi said,” what has been happening? What have we seen?”
“A representation of the time before Ascension.”
“Ascension? We thought that your people had died out,” said Kehen,” except for those who traveled to Primus III.”
“Many Primons died when the atmosphere became tainted. That was when the proposal was made. To shed our physical form and continue to exist as thought alone.”
“How?,” asked Masafumi.
“The host,” Tolk said, pointing off towards the giant crystal.
“The crystal?”
“It acts as a repository and an amplifier for our minds. Everything that you have seen was created in your thoughts by us.”
“Not ghosts, then,” said Kehen.
“No, we are alive. Perhaps, more alive than you.”
“What about the ones who traveled to Primus III?,” asked Masafumi.
Tolk sighed. “For many years before the air turned against us, there was a schism within our society between Science and Faith. Those of us who believed in the mind and the soul were ridiculed and ostracized, even though we were scientists as well. Pragmatism swept the people. When the time of death came, we offered the people the chance to ascend to a higher plane as we developed the means to do so. All but a few hundred refused, placing their trust in the pragmatists instead. They built a giant ship, larger than any of us had ever conceived. However, it could only save a few thousand. By the time that the rest realized that they wouldn’t be saved, we had already hidden the Host and ourselves. Over a hundred million Primons died in the next few cycles. Those who had hidden ascended to the Host while those who escaped to Primus III gradually forgot who they were and what they had learned. We mourned for many cycles when they died.”
“You couldn’t use your power to help them?,” asked Tennyson.
“No. Our ability to create visions or seed ideas is limited to this world. We couldn’t reach out to our brethren. We are able to communicate with you because you are close. The Human who named this system passed very close to this world when she conducted the first survey.”
“Why show us the past rather than just make contact with us?,” Masafumi asked.
“Your minds are…” Tolk paused as if he was trying to find the right words,” … different to ours. The images of the past allowed us to examine your thought processes and allowed you to see what led us to becoming as we are.”
“And now?”
“Now we can show you every aspect of the society that we once were. We will welcome your archaeologists to our world and we will show them anything that they want to know. However, we do not wish any real contact between our races. We are too different.”
Masafumi was confused. “Then why offer to show us your past?”
Tolk gave him a gentle smile. “We are not Primons anymore. We are something else. However, we want the Primon people to be known and remembered by others besides ourselves. They were a proud and noble race. They deserve that. Now, however, I think that it is time for you to leave this world. Remember. Your scientists may come to study our history but they must not search for the Host. It is well-hidden and we will defend it with all of our might. It is our world now, not this one.”
With those words passed onto the away team, Tolk disappeared, as did the vision outside.
Suddenly, the runabout began to shake, jarring the three officers out of their private thoughts. “Like the man said,” Tennyson said,” it’s time to leave.”
“Aye, sir,” Kehen said, manipulating the controls in front of her. The Snohomish rose unsteadily into the air. “Maneuverability is sluggish but controllable.”
“Main engines are online and functioning at eighty percent of efficiency,” reported Tennyson.
“Scans are starting to pierce through the storm,” said Masafumi. “It’s definitely receding.”
As the ship exited the atmosphere, an audio signal came through the runabout’s speakers. “I repeat. This is Testudo to Snohomish, come in.”
“I never thought I’d be happy to hear Valian’s dulcet tones,” Kehen said.
“This is the Snohomish. Commander Masafumi here. How may we help you, Lieutenant?”
“Commander, are you all right?,” came the voice of Captain Cardonez.
“We’re fine. We’ve had quite an adventure.”
“You’ll have to fill me in when you return. We’re on course now and we should be in the Primus system in a few hours.”
“Excellent. We’ll be with the archaeologist team on Primus III. We have some news for them. It seems that they’ve been digging in the wrong place. Masafumi out.”
Kehen turned to him. “So they weren’t Klaides after all,” she said with a smile.
“Yes, they were,” he said, smiling back at her. “Yes, they were.”
As the runabout cruised away, the small world of Primus IV sat waiting, dead and yet alive, with a whole history to teach whoever landed there.
The End.
Quite the fun little ghost story - an entire ghost culture. Preserved by living ghosts.
Stories of ascension - living as some form of pure thought - pervade science fiction with major story themes in Star Trek, Babylon 5 and forming a central theme in the Stargate series.
Thanks!! rbs
Stories of ascension - living as some form of pure thought - pervade science fiction with major story themes in Star Trek, Babylon 5 and forming a central theme in the Stargate series.
Thanks!! rbs
Nicely done!
Star Trek: Into the Void
05 - ‘Shatterhand’
By Jack D. Elmlinger
Prologue
Ferenginar - Five years ago…
A common misconception was that it was always raining on Ferenginar. While it was true to a certain extent, there were periods and, on rare occasions, drought had been known to affect certain regions of the planet. On this particular night, it had been raining heavily in the southern city of Gorolk. In the time that it took Adam Huntington to jog from a waiting hover-cab to the front door of the fifteen-story building, he was soaked.
Fortunately, the main doors were open and he entered easily into the dry and warm reception area. Ferengi businesses were open at all hours. A profit could be made at any time of the day, even late on a dark and stormy night.
Huntington had been to Ferenginar before on numerous occasions and he had adapted to its quirks and idiosyncrasies well for the most part. However, he found that he was still quite embarrassed by the naked Bajoran receptionist sitting behind a desk that appeared to have been designed to show off her attributes.
“Hello. Can I help you?,” she asked him with a winning smile. Huntington estimated her age to be twenty-five. If it was that. Her hair was long and dark as were her eyes. Her smile was wide, bright, and she didn't seem to be remotely embarrassed by her own nudity.
Certain that he was blushing, Huntington walked up to the desk, sitting down the silver attache case in his right hand. He tried not to let his gaze wander from her eyes. “My name is James Stock. I’m here to see Mister Velik?”
“One moment, please,” she said before she activated a console in front of her. “Vena here. I have a Mister Stock here to see Director Velik.”
A moment passed before a guttural male voice answered her. “He’s expected. I will come down to collect him.”
Vena looked up, still smiling. “Someone will be down to greet you shortly. Feel free to take a seat,” she suggested, gesturing over at some sumptuous leather sofas across the room.
“No thanks. I’ll stand,” he said, realizing a moment later that she probably took his desire to remain upright as an excuse to see more of her body. Mentally, he wondered how much of this mission he could reveal to Natalia when he got back to Earth, deciding quickly that this mission would need heavily censoring.
Feeling ever more self-conscious, not to mention wet, Huntington found himself involuntarily tapping his foot in time with the awful music being played from hidden speakers in the walls. He wondered how much Vena was being paid to put up with that? Not to mention working nights and in the nude!
Finally, a turbolift opposite the main doors opened and a giant Nausicaan walked out across the room to where he was standing. “Mister Stock?”
As part of his cover, Adam was supposed to be playing a timid man. This was made easier by the intimidating presence of the hulking Nausicaan.
“Y… y…yes,” he stammered in reply.
“I am Bren. Come with me, please.”
“Picking up his case and taking one last glance at Vena, he told himself that it was just another part of the act. He followed Bren into the turbolift. Despite its cramped interior, the turbolift was clean and well-maintained. The walls were covered in red velvet and the controls were all made out of gold. Most importantly of all, it also acted as a quick-drying environment with warm air blowing from every angle. The Ferengi who had invented the quick-drying turbolift had died a billionaire, and in moments, Huntington was dry again. He considered making nervous small talk with the Nausicaan but the ride was over quickly. He was led out of the turbolift into a wide corridor where at the end of it were golden double doors.
When the doors opened, he was escorted into a spacious office. The doors closed behind him and he noticed that Bren took up residence by the left-hand door. Another Nausicaan was already standing guard beside the other door.
There was only one other occupant in the room and he was sitting behind a large desk that appeared to be carved from some kind of crystal. That man was a Ferengi. Although Huntington knew he wasn’t an older man, he had the appearance of one. He was overweight, with his skin flushed and wrinkled. He obviously lived life to the fullest. His ears were large, even for a Ferengi, and he wondered if this really did make him a superior businessman as the Ferengi legends had it. There were two golden chairs in front of the desk and Huntington approached them tentatively, not daring to sit down.
“Director Velik?,” he asked.
The Ferengi looked like he was going to rise up in greeting but he obviously decided against it.
“Welcome to our organization, Mister Stock. I am Velik. Please take a seat and make a donation,” he said, pointing towards a jewel-encrusted box that sat on the desk. On the top of it was a thin slot. Huntington sat down, reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out several strips of gold-pressed latinum to drop into the box. He put more in than the going rate, hoping to impress him.
“You honor us,” Velik said. “Now I’m afraid that I’ll have to start our business off in an untrustworthy manner.” He held up a small phaser now, pointing it at Huntington. “I apologize but one cannot be too careful nowadays. I assume you’re armed?”
Huntington nodded.
“Please place your weapon on the table. And be gentle. I’m extra nervous at night.” Velik smiled but it was a false smile. It failed to disquire the venom behind it.
Huntington reached underneath his coat with his left hand, plucking the phaser from his shoulder holster. He slowly revealed it before placing it on the table, sliding it gently towards Velik so it was out of his immediate reach and that the barrel was facing away from the Ferengin and towards him. All the better to gain his trust.
Velik regarded it for a moment. “You don’t see many of those around any more,” he said, gesturing at the old-style Type-II phaser which was a copy of a weapon that hadn’t been in circulation by Starfleet for over thirty years.
“A present from a business associate,” he said with an evil grin. “I believe he took it from a Federation customs agent.”
Velik laughed. “Now, then,” he said, gesturing with his phaser,” please stand.”
Huntington complied. Bren came up from behind him, a scanning device in his right hand. Slowly, he swept it up and down the man’s body, the steady beep of the device never wavering.
“He is clean,” Bren said.
“Check the case,” Velik said and the Nausicaan performed a similar scan on the attache case.
“No weapons or communications devices,” he confirmed.
“Please, Mister Stock, sit down. Again, I apologize but robbery and espionage plague businesses like ours.”
“That’s all right,” Huntington said. “I find it quite reassuring that a company like Universal Ferengi Exports takes such precautions.”
Velik nodded. “UFE hasn’t lasted twenty years without taking precautions. Now, then down to business. You brought the latinum?”
“Yes.” Picking up his case, Huntington laid it on the table and quickly punched the combination into the lock. Opening the catches, he lifted the lid. Velik’s face visibly brightened at the sight of so many bars of gold-pressed latinum. “It’s all there as arranged. A deposit only, of course. A further twenty bars per item will be payable upon delivery.”
“Excellent.”
“Now, onto our requirements. We were led to believe that you could supply a wide variety of merchandise?”
“Oh, yes,” Velik said, a wicked smile growing on his lips. “We have a wide variety available. Orion slave girls, Andorians, Vulcans, Humans, and dozens of other species. All of them are young, attractive and they have been conditioned to provide the maximum…” He paused, his smile becoming lecherous. “Pleasure to their owners.”
Huntington thought about his own daughter and found down his revulsion at the attitude of this scum in front of him. It had taken a lot of time and effort to get him this far. He could play the game a little longer.
“I’ll need to see a sample,” he said, his voice not betraying the dryness in his mouth.
“Of course,” Velik said, gesturing into the corner where a small personal transporter stood. “Any particular flavor?”
Just a bit longer, Huntington thought. “One of my clients has an interest in Human females.”
“Very well, then.” Velik tapped in commands on the console in front of him. A few moments passed before the transporter hummed with energy and a figure materialized before them.
It was a young Human girl who was no more than twenty years old. She was naked and she made no attempt to cover herself. There was an obviously false smile on her face. Huntington forced himself to look, slowly appraising her from her head to her toes.
“Very nice,” he whispered, hating himself for not running and wrapping his jacket around her. If he played his cards right though, he would save far more than just one girl. “Where did you acquire them?”
Velik shrugged. “From all over. Pirate attacks on cargo vessels or outlying colonies. Most of them are looking for fortune and fame when they come to us. They all want to be some glamorous hostess on Risa. most over them never make it that far,” he said with a curt laugh.
Huntington nodded. “And their training?”
“Nothing too fancy. A combination of rugs, hypnosis, and,” he paused,” more unpleasant methods.”
Huntington cast a quick glance at the phaser, calculating how fast he could grab it and vaporize this evil person before him. However, he didn’t. Instead, he asked,” Where do you keep them?”
“I’m afraid that remains a secret. Suffice to say that it’s a well-hidden location, not too far away.”
“And the transporter? Could it be traced?”
“No, we’re very careful. If someone tried to trace the signal coming in, they would never be able to determine its origin. It bounced through twelve different transport buffers. Some of them are in orbit. It couldn’t be done. Not unless they had a sensor running at the controls on the other end.”
“And that couldn’t happen, could it?,” Huntington asked, a slight trace of steel entering his voice.
If Velik heard the change of tone in his voice, he didn’t show it. “No, we’re very particular. Now then, would you like to test the merchandise?”
“No,” Huntington said, just a little too quickly. “A visual inspection was all that I was ordered to make.”
“I take it that she meets with your approval?”
“Yes, indeed.”
Velik pushed some buttons on his console and the girl was beamed away. “Onto the nitty-gritty, then. How many and what varieties?”
“My clients want to keep it small scale, at first. Our initial order is for five women. Two Human, one Vulcan, one Ferengi and – “
“Ferengi?,” Velik interrupted him.
“Yes,” Huntington said. “I trust that you have no quibbles about exploiting your own females?”
“Not at all. I just don’t see why. Give me a nice Bajoran girl any day,” Velik laughed.
“Quite. Now the fifth girl must be Yacobian. Does that pose any difficulties?”
“No, none at all. Now do you want to select individual girls or not?”
“You choose. My clients are mostly concerned with species and subservience. Now then, delivery time?,” he asked, eager to get out of there so they could send teams in to arrest this little toad and rescue his prisoners.
“Around one week. We need to…” Velik was cut off when the doors flew open and a small Ferengi male ran into the room.
“Director! There are men attacking the plant! Some of them are FCA but they have Hew-mons with them!”
“What?!,” shouted Velik who was finally driven to stand.
“Oh, dear,” whispered Huntington.
“You!,” Velik yelled, his phaser back in his hand. “But how? We scanned you! There was no way that you could have smuggled a scanner in…” His words droned off as he dropped his gaze to Huntington’s phaser.
“You’d be amazing at what else it can do,” Huntington said with a smile on his lips.
“Kill him!”
Even as both Nausicaans were moving to draw their weapons, Hunting threw himself sideways from the chair as he hit the floor, shouting out a single word at the top of his voice. “Amazon!”
On the desk, a tiny green light flared on his phaser as its voice recognition circuits activated two functions. First of all, a wide-bean stun blast lanced out, hitting both of the Nausicaans and the smaller Ferengi. In the second place, an ultrasonic pulse, that was keyed especially to Ferengi hearing, began playing. Velik screamed, dropping his phaser to clamp both of his hands over his ears in agony.
Huntington sprang to his feet. The Nausicaans were disoriented and they were already beginning to recover. Moving fast, he swung a fit at Bren’s torso. As he doubled over in agony, he followed this attack with a swift knee to the face before bringing down a two-handed chop to the back of his neck. As he lost consciousness, Adam grabbed the Klingon disruptor from his belt and spun around to face the other Nausicaan. He had already drawn his gun from its holster and he was bringing it to bear on the Human. The Starfleet officer was a moment faster though and a single blast of green energy blasted him, squarely into the chest. It killed him instantly, and as he died, the Nausicaan fired his own weapon in a wide beam, blasting the transporter in the corner.
The smaller Ferengi was lying prone on the floor and Velik was still squealing in agony. Huntington ran to close the double doors. That was when he caught a glimpse of three Nausicaans, their weapons drawn, already running down the corridor towards him.
“Damn,” he said while locking the doors, knowing that they were too flimsy to protect him for long.
Running over to the desk, he kicked Velik’s phaser across the room before he grabbed his own phaser and spoke into the communicator concealed within it. “Huntington here. I need an emergency beam-out, now!”
A heartbeat passed and nothing happened.
“Hah!,” Velik laughed, still looking groggy from the ultrasonic blast. “There’s a transporter inhibitor surrounding this building. You’ll never escape.”
Behind him, Huntington heard the Nausicaans begin to pound on the door. Without any hesitation, he brought the disruptor up and fired. The Ferengi screamed while the energy blast flew past him and blew a gaping hole in the window. Programming the disruptor to overload, he tossed it against the door before he brought his own phaser to his mouth again.
“The building has transport inhibitors. Shortly, I’ll be outside of their influence but you should lock onto me quickly.” Huntington ran at the gaping window, the rising hum of the disruptor behind him.
“What are you doing?!,” screamed Velik as Adam ran past him and hurled himself through the window and into the night. He was only vaguely aware of the explosion above him while he plummeted towards the ground. In the few seconds that he was falling, he barely had enough time to wonder how much it would hurt when he hit. Before he did, he was bathed in the blue energy glow of a transporter beam and dematerialized mere meters from where he would have hit the concrete ground before.
05 - ‘Shatterhand’
By Jack D. Elmlinger
Prologue
Ferenginar - Five years ago…
A common misconception was that it was always raining on Ferenginar. While it was true to a certain extent, there were periods and, on rare occasions, drought had been known to affect certain regions of the planet. On this particular night, it had been raining heavily in the southern city of Gorolk. In the time that it took Adam Huntington to jog from a waiting hover-cab to the front door of the fifteen-story building, he was soaked.
Fortunately, the main doors were open and he entered easily into the dry and warm reception area. Ferengi businesses were open at all hours. A profit could be made at any time of the day, even late on a dark and stormy night.
Huntington had been to Ferenginar before on numerous occasions and he had adapted to its quirks and idiosyncrasies well for the most part. However, he found that he was still quite embarrassed by the naked Bajoran receptionist sitting behind a desk that appeared to have been designed to show off her attributes.
“Hello. Can I help you?,” she asked him with a winning smile. Huntington estimated her age to be twenty-five. If it was that. Her hair was long and dark as were her eyes. Her smile was wide, bright, and she didn't seem to be remotely embarrassed by her own nudity.
Certain that he was blushing, Huntington walked up to the desk, sitting down the silver attache case in his right hand. He tried not to let his gaze wander from her eyes. “My name is James Stock. I’m here to see Mister Velik?”
“One moment, please,” she said before she activated a console in front of her. “Vena here. I have a Mister Stock here to see Director Velik.”
A moment passed before a guttural male voice answered her. “He’s expected. I will come down to collect him.”
Vena looked up, still smiling. “Someone will be down to greet you shortly. Feel free to take a seat,” she suggested, gesturing over at some sumptuous leather sofas across the room.
“No thanks. I’ll stand,” he said, realizing a moment later that she probably took his desire to remain upright as an excuse to see more of her body. Mentally, he wondered how much of this mission he could reveal to Natalia when he got back to Earth, deciding quickly that this mission would need heavily censoring.
Feeling ever more self-conscious, not to mention wet, Huntington found himself involuntarily tapping his foot in time with the awful music being played from hidden speakers in the walls. He wondered how much Vena was being paid to put up with that? Not to mention working nights and in the nude!
Finally, a turbolift opposite the main doors opened and a giant Nausicaan walked out across the room to where he was standing. “Mister Stock?”
As part of his cover, Adam was supposed to be playing a timid man. This was made easier by the intimidating presence of the hulking Nausicaan.
“Y… y…yes,” he stammered in reply.
“I am Bren. Come with me, please.”
“Picking up his case and taking one last glance at Vena, he told himself that it was just another part of the act. He followed Bren into the turbolift. Despite its cramped interior, the turbolift was clean and well-maintained. The walls were covered in red velvet and the controls were all made out of gold. Most importantly of all, it also acted as a quick-drying environment with warm air blowing from every angle. The Ferengi who had invented the quick-drying turbolift had died a billionaire, and in moments, Huntington was dry again. He considered making nervous small talk with the Nausicaan but the ride was over quickly. He was led out of the turbolift into a wide corridor where at the end of it were golden double doors.
When the doors opened, he was escorted into a spacious office. The doors closed behind him and he noticed that Bren took up residence by the left-hand door. Another Nausicaan was already standing guard beside the other door.
There was only one other occupant in the room and he was sitting behind a large desk that appeared to be carved from some kind of crystal. That man was a Ferengi. Although Huntington knew he wasn’t an older man, he had the appearance of one. He was overweight, with his skin flushed and wrinkled. He obviously lived life to the fullest. His ears were large, even for a Ferengi, and he wondered if this really did make him a superior businessman as the Ferengi legends had it. There were two golden chairs in front of the desk and Huntington approached them tentatively, not daring to sit down.
“Director Velik?,” he asked.
The Ferengi looked like he was going to rise up in greeting but he obviously decided against it.
“Welcome to our organization, Mister Stock. I am Velik. Please take a seat and make a donation,” he said, pointing towards a jewel-encrusted box that sat on the desk. On the top of it was a thin slot. Huntington sat down, reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out several strips of gold-pressed latinum to drop into the box. He put more in than the going rate, hoping to impress him.
“You honor us,” Velik said. “Now I’m afraid that I’ll have to start our business off in an untrustworthy manner.” He held up a small phaser now, pointing it at Huntington. “I apologize but one cannot be too careful nowadays. I assume you’re armed?”
Huntington nodded.
“Please place your weapon on the table. And be gentle. I’m extra nervous at night.” Velik smiled but it was a false smile. It failed to disquire the venom behind it.
Huntington reached underneath his coat with his left hand, plucking the phaser from his shoulder holster. He slowly revealed it before placing it on the table, sliding it gently towards Velik so it was out of his immediate reach and that the barrel was facing away from the Ferengin and towards him. All the better to gain his trust.
Velik regarded it for a moment. “You don’t see many of those around any more,” he said, gesturing at the old-style Type-II phaser which was a copy of a weapon that hadn’t been in circulation by Starfleet for over thirty years.
“A present from a business associate,” he said with an evil grin. “I believe he took it from a Federation customs agent.”
Velik laughed. “Now, then,” he said, gesturing with his phaser,” please stand.”
Huntington complied. Bren came up from behind him, a scanning device in his right hand. Slowly, he swept it up and down the man’s body, the steady beep of the device never wavering.
“He is clean,” Bren said.
“Check the case,” Velik said and the Nausicaan performed a similar scan on the attache case.
“No weapons or communications devices,” he confirmed.
“Please, Mister Stock, sit down. Again, I apologize but robbery and espionage plague businesses like ours.”
“That’s all right,” Huntington said. “I find it quite reassuring that a company like Universal Ferengi Exports takes such precautions.”
Velik nodded. “UFE hasn’t lasted twenty years without taking precautions. Now, then down to business. You brought the latinum?”
“Yes.” Picking up his case, Huntington laid it on the table and quickly punched the combination into the lock. Opening the catches, he lifted the lid. Velik’s face visibly brightened at the sight of so many bars of gold-pressed latinum. “It’s all there as arranged. A deposit only, of course. A further twenty bars per item will be payable upon delivery.”
“Excellent.”
“Now, onto our requirements. We were led to believe that you could supply a wide variety of merchandise?”
“Oh, yes,” Velik said, a wicked smile growing on his lips. “We have a wide variety available. Orion slave girls, Andorians, Vulcans, Humans, and dozens of other species. All of them are young, attractive and they have been conditioned to provide the maximum…” He paused, his smile becoming lecherous. “Pleasure to their owners.”
Huntington thought about his own daughter and found down his revulsion at the attitude of this scum in front of him. It had taken a lot of time and effort to get him this far. He could play the game a little longer.
“I’ll need to see a sample,” he said, his voice not betraying the dryness in his mouth.
“Of course,” Velik said, gesturing into the corner where a small personal transporter stood. “Any particular flavor?”
Just a bit longer, Huntington thought. “One of my clients has an interest in Human females.”
“Very well, then.” Velik tapped in commands on the console in front of him. A few moments passed before the transporter hummed with energy and a figure materialized before them.
It was a young Human girl who was no more than twenty years old. She was naked and she made no attempt to cover herself. There was an obviously false smile on her face. Huntington forced himself to look, slowly appraising her from her head to her toes.
“Very nice,” he whispered, hating himself for not running and wrapping his jacket around her. If he played his cards right though, he would save far more than just one girl. “Where did you acquire them?”
Velik shrugged. “From all over. Pirate attacks on cargo vessels or outlying colonies. Most of them are looking for fortune and fame when they come to us. They all want to be some glamorous hostess on Risa. most over them never make it that far,” he said with a curt laugh.
Huntington nodded. “And their training?”
“Nothing too fancy. A combination of rugs, hypnosis, and,” he paused,” more unpleasant methods.”
Huntington cast a quick glance at the phaser, calculating how fast he could grab it and vaporize this evil person before him. However, he didn’t. Instead, he asked,” Where do you keep them?”
“I’m afraid that remains a secret. Suffice to say that it’s a well-hidden location, not too far away.”
“And the transporter? Could it be traced?”
“No, we’re very careful. If someone tried to trace the signal coming in, they would never be able to determine its origin. It bounced through twelve different transport buffers. Some of them are in orbit. It couldn’t be done. Not unless they had a sensor running at the controls on the other end.”
“And that couldn’t happen, could it?,” Huntington asked, a slight trace of steel entering his voice.
If Velik heard the change of tone in his voice, he didn’t show it. “No, we’re very particular. Now then, would you like to test the merchandise?”
“No,” Huntington said, just a little too quickly. “A visual inspection was all that I was ordered to make.”
“I take it that she meets with your approval?”
“Yes, indeed.”
Velik pushed some buttons on his console and the girl was beamed away. “Onto the nitty-gritty, then. How many and what varieties?”
“My clients want to keep it small scale, at first. Our initial order is for five women. Two Human, one Vulcan, one Ferengi and – “
“Ferengi?,” Velik interrupted him.
“Yes,” Huntington said. “I trust that you have no quibbles about exploiting your own females?”
“Not at all. I just don’t see why. Give me a nice Bajoran girl any day,” Velik laughed.
“Quite. Now the fifth girl must be Yacobian. Does that pose any difficulties?”
“No, none at all. Now do you want to select individual girls or not?”
“You choose. My clients are mostly concerned with species and subservience. Now then, delivery time?,” he asked, eager to get out of there so they could send teams in to arrest this little toad and rescue his prisoners.
“Around one week. We need to…” Velik was cut off when the doors flew open and a small Ferengi male ran into the room.
“Director! There are men attacking the plant! Some of them are FCA but they have Hew-mons with them!”
“What?!,” shouted Velik who was finally driven to stand.
“Oh, dear,” whispered Huntington.
“You!,” Velik yelled, his phaser back in his hand. “But how? We scanned you! There was no way that you could have smuggled a scanner in…” His words droned off as he dropped his gaze to Huntington’s phaser.
“You’d be amazing at what else it can do,” Huntington said with a smile on his lips.
“Kill him!”
Even as both Nausicaans were moving to draw their weapons, Hunting threw himself sideways from the chair as he hit the floor, shouting out a single word at the top of his voice. “Amazon!”
On the desk, a tiny green light flared on his phaser as its voice recognition circuits activated two functions. First of all, a wide-bean stun blast lanced out, hitting both of the Nausicaans and the smaller Ferengi. In the second place, an ultrasonic pulse, that was keyed especially to Ferengi hearing, began playing. Velik screamed, dropping his phaser to clamp both of his hands over his ears in agony.
Huntington sprang to his feet. The Nausicaans were disoriented and they were already beginning to recover. Moving fast, he swung a fit at Bren’s torso. As he doubled over in agony, he followed this attack with a swift knee to the face before bringing down a two-handed chop to the back of his neck. As he lost consciousness, Adam grabbed the Klingon disruptor from his belt and spun around to face the other Nausicaan. He had already drawn his gun from its holster and he was bringing it to bear on the Human. The Starfleet officer was a moment faster though and a single blast of green energy blasted him, squarely into the chest. It killed him instantly, and as he died, the Nausicaan fired his own weapon in a wide beam, blasting the transporter in the corner.
The smaller Ferengi was lying prone on the floor and Velik was still squealing in agony. Huntington ran to close the double doors. That was when he caught a glimpse of three Nausicaans, their weapons drawn, already running down the corridor towards him.
“Damn,” he said while locking the doors, knowing that they were too flimsy to protect him for long.
Running over to the desk, he kicked Velik’s phaser across the room before he grabbed his own phaser and spoke into the communicator concealed within it. “Huntington here. I need an emergency beam-out, now!”
A heartbeat passed and nothing happened.
“Hah!,” Velik laughed, still looking groggy from the ultrasonic blast. “There’s a transporter inhibitor surrounding this building. You’ll never escape.”
Behind him, Huntington heard the Nausicaans begin to pound on the door. Without any hesitation, he brought the disruptor up and fired. The Ferengi screamed while the energy blast flew past him and blew a gaping hole in the window. Programming the disruptor to overload, he tossed it against the door before he brought his own phaser to his mouth again.
“The building has transport inhibitors. Shortly, I’ll be outside of their influence but you should lock onto me quickly.” Huntington ran at the gaping window, the rising hum of the disruptor behind him.
“What are you doing?!,” screamed Velik as Adam ran past him and hurled himself through the window and into the night. He was only vaguely aware of the explosion above him while he plummeted towards the ground. In the few seconds that he was falling, he barely had enough time to wonder how much it would hurt when he hit. Before he did, he was bathed in the blue energy glow of a transporter beam and dematerialized mere meters from where he would have hit the concrete ground before.
Alright - just downright awesome .007 action. And you couldn't ask for a more charismatic villain... Thanks!! rbs
Universal Exports, several nice nods to 007.
I wonder how this will tie in to the main story
I wonder how this will tie in to the main story
Chapter One
Personal Log, Stardate 54534.3;
With the Testudo assigned to a nebula-mapping mission, I have taken a few weeks of leave in order to visit my family on Earth.
Lieutenant Commander Adam Huntington sat alone in the aft section of the runabout. As he stared out of the rear windows, the stars streaked backwards into infinity. It was hypnotic and he had been staring at the effect for several minutes. On the table in front of him was a PADD containing a new novel that he had just started reading. His wife Natalia had given him the young author’s first novel, bound in book form. He preferred books that way than books displayed on a PADD but this was the only way that he could get a copy of Jake Sisko’s new book that he had been putting off. Next to the PADD was an empty mug. Tearing his eyes away from the warp trails, he picked up the mug and walked over to the replicator. He considered having another cup of coffee but he decided against it and the mug simply disappeared from sight.
Moving towards the flight deck of the ship, he found the only other occupant, a young Starfleet Ensign. She was sitting at the helm but she turned slightly when he sat down in the co-pilot’s chair.
“Is everything all right?” Her voice was tinged with both concern and reverence for a superior officer.
“Everything’s fine, Ensign,” he said with a smile, indicating the stars streaking towards them. “I just fancied seeing the stars move in the opposite direction.”
Ensign Pamela Tilmoore laughed. “I’m sorry for being formal. Most passengers barely acknowledge my existence.” She was twenty-two years old, petite, with long blonde hair that was tied back in a regulation ponytail.
“That’s okay. I assume that you normally have more than one passenger on this trip?”
“Oh, yes. Normally, there are four or five people on a trip to Callak III. Of course, there are usually more on the trip back. Having one passenger aboard is a luxury.”
“How many trips do you make in a week?,” asked Huntington.
“About four trips there and back. Sometimes, it’s a few less but it’s never more than four.”
“Doesn’t it get boring?”
Ensign Tilmoore considered this question for a moment, not totally comfortable with chatting with a senior officer. “Sometimes, yes. Still, I only left the Academy a few months ago so I suppose it's a valuable experience.”
“I suppose I was lucky. I got assigned to a Starship right away.”
“I think I’m just lucky to be here. My test results in my final year weren’t brillant. I flunked more courses that I would care to let on,” she said with another smile. “It’s only the smart ones who graduate near the top of their class who get the plum assignments.”
“What’s your speciality?,” he asked her, noting her red uniform collar.
“Piloting, mostly. I even scraped through that on average scores.”
Huntington smiled. “You would be amazed by how many successful Starfleet officers did poorly at the Academy. At the end of the day, it’s how you act in the real world that counts.”
“Yeah, but there’s not a lot of room for improvement on a shuttle bus route.”
Adam found that he was at a loss to find something to say to cheer the young woman up. He had seen many officers who got off to a bad start do well for themselves but he had seen a greater number of them who started on the mundane tasks, like shuttle runs, and they were still doing them twenty years later.
In the end, it was Ensign Tilmoore who broke the silence between them. “So, what’s on Callak III?”
“I’m meeting up with the USS Templeton. It’s due to make the trip back to Earth tomorrow. Then I’m off to Russia to see my wife Natalia.”
“Your wife doesn’t serve with you?”
“No,” Huntington said with a shake of his head. “At the end of the day, she’s an Earth girl and she was never really happy anywhere but her native Russia. On the other hand,” he said, indicating the stars,” prefer it out here.”
“Do you get to see much of each other?”
“Oh, yes, all the time. I spend a year or two on a tour. Then I go back and teach at the Academy for a few years.”
“You taught at the Academy?,” Tilmoore asked. “I don’t recall any classes.”
Huntington shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I normally do specialist security courses. Mostly post-graduate work.”
“Ah,” she said with a nod.
* * * *
Unknown to either Starfleet officer, the runabout was currently being monitored on the main viewscreen of another vessel. Its Bridge was compact and obviously well-maintained. A large throne-like chair sat at the center of the room and there were workstations set all around the walls.
A Vulcan male sat in the command chair. He was tall, well-built, and wearing a white one-piece outfit. His hair was dark and long, thrown over his left shoulder in a well-fastened ponytail. His fingers were steepled together and enclosed in black gloves. He tapped the tips of his index fingers against his lips. His eyes were cold, blue, and he focused them intently on the runabout.
“What is our range to the target?,” he asked, without taking his eyes away from the monitor screen. His voice was emotionless.
On his left side, a gaunt Human woman turned her chair away from her station to face him. “Sixty thousand kilometers,” she said, her voice deep and husky. Her hair was a deep red and it tumbled aimlessly around her shoulders. She wore a tight-fitting black jumpsuit, a Romulan disruptor pistol low on her right hip.
“Is it time yet?,” whined the only other occupant on the Bridge. A young Yridian sat at another station positioned on the Vulcan’s right side. He wore loose-fitting gray overalls and he was also armed with a Romulan disruptor.
“Yes, Tamor, I think it is. Inform the crew that we are going into combat. Ingrid, arm weapons and standby to decloak.”
“Yes, sir,” said the red-haired woman.
The Vulcan moved his hands down to rest on the arms of his chair, a cruel smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
* * * *
Aboard the runabout, Huntington and Tilmoore were still chatting when a Red Alert went off.
“What the hell?,” asked the Ensign.
Huntington began manipulating the control panel in front of him. “A ship is decloaking from astern. I’m raising shields.”
“Who are they?”
“Vessel configuration is that of a small freighter. It could be pirates. I’m sending out a distress call.” A moment passed by and a frown appeared on the Tactical Officer’s face. “It’s no good. They’re jamming us.”
A heartbeat later, a single burst of energy shot away from the freighter and impacted against the runabout’s shields.
“Photon torpedo,” Huntington said. “Shields are at seventy percent. Evasive maneuvers, Ensign.”
Tilmoore sat still with a look of terror on her face.
“Ensign! Evasive maneuvers!,” he shouted, shocking her into action. The runabout twisted away to port and the freighter matched the maneuver. “She’s maneuverable for a ship of her size. Are there any habitable worlds nearby?”
“Just Merix, but it’s not a Federation world.”
“There’s no time to worry about that,” Huntington said, standing up. “Just get us there.”
“Where are you going?,” she asked him, her voice breaking into a near-scream.
“I’m just going to collect a few things. Get us to Merix and try to keep them from blowing us up on the way,” he said with a smile.
Leaving Tilmoore alone, Adam quickly made it to the replicator. Several times he had to steady himself as she made erratic maneuvers to try and throw off their pursuers. Crouching down, he slid a single isolinear rod out of a tiny sheath inside his left boot. He slid the rob into a port on the replicator before speaking his commands.
“Computer, access file WPD and replicate the following items. Number Three, Number Five, Number Fifteen, and Number Seventeen.”
While the replicator was working, he went into the aft section and claimed his bags, slipping the Jake Sisko novel into one of them. As he started back towards the replicator, the runabout shook again. He quickly swept the items out of the replicator into his bag before reclaiming the rod and returning to the flight deck.
“We took another hit but I managed to evade the last one,” Tilmoore said with pride.
“Good work. How long until we reach Merix?”
* * * *
Aboard the freighter, Ingrid was getting frustrated. “Their shields are weakening but they evaded the last torpedo.”
“Where are they heading?,” the Vulcan asked her.
“Merix. They’ll be there in minutes.”
“Do not worry,” he said. “They will find no help on Merix. It might be interesting to have a ground pursuit.”
“Sir, we have a rendezvous to keep,” Tamor said. “We can’t waste time on this matter.”
The Vulcan turned his chair to face the Yridian. “Do not ever dare to question me!” His voice was raised with every word and he screamed the word ‘me’. “Unless you want to end up being gutted and fed to Klaah’s pet targ,” he added, calmly. “Do I make myself understood?”
“Yes, Doctor,” Tamor said weakly.
“Good. Ingrid, how many torpedoes do we have left?”
“Six.”
“Very well. Fire another but after that, let them get to Merix.” He activated a communications channel on his armrest console. “Klaah, prepare your men for a hunt.” Then he laughed a cold and empty sound that echoed around the Bridge.
* * * *
“Merix is dead ahead, sir,” Tilmoore said as the reddish-colored planet appeared in front of them.
Huntington checked his instruments. “There’s a large conurbation near the equator. We’ll head there.”
“But they’ll follow us if we land there, and we can’t beam down with the shields up,” said Tilmoore.
“Trust me, Ensign,” he replied with a smile,” I’ve been doing this for a long time.”
* * * *
“They’ve dropped out of warp,” said Tamor. “I’m doing likewise.”
“Any idea where they are planning to land yet?,” asked the Vulcan.
“No,” said Ingrid before a sudden, confused look formed on her face. “What the hell is he doing?!”
The Vulcan watched the runabout split into two sections. The flight deck section began a steady tumble towards the planet while the large aft section seemed to move ever so slowly towards them. It took him a nano-second to realize what Huntington was up to.
“Evasive maneuvers. Reinforce shields,” he said, his voice icy-cold.
“What? Why?,” asked Tamor.
The Vulcan didn’t respond. Instead, he leaped from his chair and, in two bounds, moved to Tamor’s side. Grasping his shoulder, he hauled him out of his seat and flung him across the Bridge as if he were a ragdoll. The young Yridian bounced off of the Vulcan’s command chair before landing on the deck where he lay, immobile. Ignoring him, the Vulcan began to manipulate the helm controls.
He was a moment too late.
The aft section of the runabout contained the ship’s warp core that Huntington had programmed to overload thirty seconds after the two sections of the ship had separated. The resulting explosion wasn’t huge by any stretch of the imagination. However, it was violent enough to shake the Vulcan’s ship.
“Report!,” shouted the Vulcan with a raised voice now.
“Shields are at fifty percent,” said Ingrid. “There’s a lot of radiation out there and it’s affecting our scanners.”
The Vulcan was calm now. He stood up and moved back towards his chair. He stopped just before he reached it and stood over the silent Yridian. Looking down, he asked,” So we’ve lost them?” His voice was emotionless once again.
“For the moment,” Ingrid said, trying to inject some hope into her words.
The Vulcan knelt down and examined Tamor. “It appears that Adam Charles Huntington will be harder to deal with than I had anticipated. Excellent.” A smile grew on his face.
“Is he dead?,” the red-haired woman asked, gesturing towards the Yridian.
The Vulcan grasped Tamor’s neck with his right hand and proceeded to squeeze until a sharp crack echoed around the Bridge. Ingrid shuddered at the sound.
“He is now,” he said, standing up. “Clean up the Bridge and get me a new helm officer.”
“Yes, Doctor,” she replied. “What are you going to do?”
The Vulcan was staring down at his right hand, turning it one way and then another, admiring the sleekness of his black gloves. Finally, he turned towards Ingrid. “I’m going to find Adam Charles Huntington and rip his heart out,” he said with clinical detachment.
Personal Log, Stardate 54534.3;
With the Testudo assigned to a nebula-mapping mission, I have taken a few weeks of leave in order to visit my family on Earth.
Lieutenant Commander Adam Huntington sat alone in the aft section of the runabout. As he stared out of the rear windows, the stars streaked backwards into infinity. It was hypnotic and he had been staring at the effect for several minutes. On the table in front of him was a PADD containing a new novel that he had just started reading. His wife Natalia had given him the young author’s first novel, bound in book form. He preferred books that way than books displayed on a PADD but this was the only way that he could get a copy of Jake Sisko’s new book that he had been putting off. Next to the PADD was an empty mug. Tearing his eyes away from the warp trails, he picked up the mug and walked over to the replicator. He considered having another cup of coffee but he decided against it and the mug simply disappeared from sight.
Moving towards the flight deck of the ship, he found the only other occupant, a young Starfleet Ensign. She was sitting at the helm but she turned slightly when he sat down in the co-pilot’s chair.
“Is everything all right?” Her voice was tinged with both concern and reverence for a superior officer.
“Everything’s fine, Ensign,” he said with a smile, indicating the stars streaking towards them. “I just fancied seeing the stars move in the opposite direction.”
Ensign Pamela Tilmoore laughed. “I’m sorry for being formal. Most passengers barely acknowledge my existence.” She was twenty-two years old, petite, with long blonde hair that was tied back in a regulation ponytail.
“That’s okay. I assume that you normally have more than one passenger on this trip?”
“Oh, yes. Normally, there are four or five people on a trip to Callak III. Of course, there are usually more on the trip back. Having one passenger aboard is a luxury.”
“How many trips do you make in a week?,” asked Huntington.
“About four trips there and back. Sometimes, it’s a few less but it’s never more than four.”
“Doesn’t it get boring?”
Ensign Tilmoore considered this question for a moment, not totally comfortable with chatting with a senior officer. “Sometimes, yes. Still, I only left the Academy a few months ago so I suppose it's a valuable experience.”
“I suppose I was lucky. I got assigned to a Starship right away.”
“I think I’m just lucky to be here. My test results in my final year weren’t brillant. I flunked more courses that I would care to let on,” she said with another smile. “It’s only the smart ones who graduate near the top of their class who get the plum assignments.”
“What’s your speciality?,” he asked her, noting her red uniform collar.
“Piloting, mostly. I even scraped through that on average scores.”
Huntington smiled. “You would be amazed by how many successful Starfleet officers did poorly at the Academy. At the end of the day, it’s how you act in the real world that counts.”
“Yeah, but there’s not a lot of room for improvement on a shuttle bus route.”
Adam found that he was at a loss to find something to say to cheer the young woman up. He had seen many officers who got off to a bad start do well for themselves but he had seen a greater number of them who started on the mundane tasks, like shuttle runs, and they were still doing them twenty years later.
In the end, it was Ensign Tilmoore who broke the silence between them. “So, what’s on Callak III?”
“I’m meeting up with the USS Templeton. It’s due to make the trip back to Earth tomorrow. Then I’m off to Russia to see my wife Natalia.”
“Your wife doesn’t serve with you?”
“No,” Huntington said with a shake of his head. “At the end of the day, she’s an Earth girl and she was never really happy anywhere but her native Russia. On the other hand,” he said, indicating the stars,” prefer it out here.”
“Do you get to see much of each other?”
“Oh, yes, all the time. I spend a year or two on a tour. Then I go back and teach at the Academy for a few years.”
“You taught at the Academy?,” Tilmoore asked. “I don’t recall any classes.”
Huntington shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I normally do specialist security courses. Mostly post-graduate work.”
“Ah,” she said with a nod.
* * * *
Unknown to either Starfleet officer, the runabout was currently being monitored on the main viewscreen of another vessel. Its Bridge was compact and obviously well-maintained. A large throne-like chair sat at the center of the room and there were workstations set all around the walls.
A Vulcan male sat in the command chair. He was tall, well-built, and wearing a white one-piece outfit. His hair was dark and long, thrown over his left shoulder in a well-fastened ponytail. His fingers were steepled together and enclosed in black gloves. He tapped the tips of his index fingers against his lips. His eyes were cold, blue, and he focused them intently on the runabout.
“What is our range to the target?,” he asked, without taking his eyes away from the monitor screen. His voice was emotionless.
On his left side, a gaunt Human woman turned her chair away from her station to face him. “Sixty thousand kilometers,” she said, her voice deep and husky. Her hair was a deep red and it tumbled aimlessly around her shoulders. She wore a tight-fitting black jumpsuit, a Romulan disruptor pistol low on her right hip.
“Is it time yet?,” whined the only other occupant on the Bridge. A young Yridian sat at another station positioned on the Vulcan’s right side. He wore loose-fitting gray overalls and he was also armed with a Romulan disruptor.
“Yes, Tamor, I think it is. Inform the crew that we are going into combat. Ingrid, arm weapons and standby to decloak.”
“Yes, sir,” said the red-haired woman.
The Vulcan moved his hands down to rest on the arms of his chair, a cruel smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
* * * *
Aboard the runabout, Huntington and Tilmoore were still chatting when a Red Alert went off.
“What the hell?,” asked the Ensign.
Huntington began manipulating the control panel in front of him. “A ship is decloaking from astern. I’m raising shields.”
“Who are they?”
“Vessel configuration is that of a small freighter. It could be pirates. I’m sending out a distress call.” A moment passed by and a frown appeared on the Tactical Officer’s face. “It’s no good. They’re jamming us.”
A heartbeat later, a single burst of energy shot away from the freighter and impacted against the runabout’s shields.
“Photon torpedo,” Huntington said. “Shields are at seventy percent. Evasive maneuvers, Ensign.”
Tilmoore sat still with a look of terror on her face.
“Ensign! Evasive maneuvers!,” he shouted, shocking her into action. The runabout twisted away to port and the freighter matched the maneuver. “She’s maneuverable for a ship of her size. Are there any habitable worlds nearby?”
“Just Merix, but it’s not a Federation world.”
“There’s no time to worry about that,” Huntington said, standing up. “Just get us there.”
“Where are you going?,” she asked him, her voice breaking into a near-scream.
“I’m just going to collect a few things. Get us to Merix and try to keep them from blowing us up on the way,” he said with a smile.
Leaving Tilmoore alone, Adam quickly made it to the replicator. Several times he had to steady himself as she made erratic maneuvers to try and throw off their pursuers. Crouching down, he slid a single isolinear rod out of a tiny sheath inside his left boot. He slid the rob into a port on the replicator before speaking his commands.
“Computer, access file WPD and replicate the following items. Number Three, Number Five, Number Fifteen, and Number Seventeen.”
While the replicator was working, he went into the aft section and claimed his bags, slipping the Jake Sisko novel into one of them. As he started back towards the replicator, the runabout shook again. He quickly swept the items out of the replicator into his bag before reclaiming the rod and returning to the flight deck.
“We took another hit but I managed to evade the last one,” Tilmoore said with pride.
“Good work. How long until we reach Merix?”
* * * *
Aboard the freighter, Ingrid was getting frustrated. “Their shields are weakening but they evaded the last torpedo.”
“Where are they heading?,” the Vulcan asked her.
“Merix. They’ll be there in minutes.”
“Do not worry,” he said. “They will find no help on Merix. It might be interesting to have a ground pursuit.”
“Sir, we have a rendezvous to keep,” Tamor said. “We can’t waste time on this matter.”
The Vulcan turned his chair to face the Yridian. “Do not ever dare to question me!” His voice was raised with every word and he screamed the word ‘me’. “Unless you want to end up being gutted and fed to Klaah’s pet targ,” he added, calmly. “Do I make myself understood?”
“Yes, Doctor,” Tamor said weakly.
“Good. Ingrid, how many torpedoes do we have left?”
“Six.”
“Very well. Fire another but after that, let them get to Merix.” He activated a communications channel on his armrest console. “Klaah, prepare your men for a hunt.” Then he laughed a cold and empty sound that echoed around the Bridge.
* * * *
“Merix is dead ahead, sir,” Tilmoore said as the reddish-colored planet appeared in front of them.
Huntington checked his instruments. “There’s a large conurbation near the equator. We’ll head there.”
“But they’ll follow us if we land there, and we can’t beam down with the shields up,” said Tilmoore.
“Trust me, Ensign,” he replied with a smile,” I’ve been doing this for a long time.”
* * * *
“They’ve dropped out of warp,” said Tamor. “I’m doing likewise.”
“Any idea where they are planning to land yet?,” asked the Vulcan.
“No,” said Ingrid before a sudden, confused look formed on her face. “What the hell is he doing?!”
The Vulcan watched the runabout split into two sections. The flight deck section began a steady tumble towards the planet while the large aft section seemed to move ever so slowly towards them. It took him a nano-second to realize what Huntington was up to.
“Evasive maneuvers. Reinforce shields,” he said, his voice icy-cold.
“What? Why?,” asked Tamor.
The Vulcan didn’t respond. Instead, he leaped from his chair and, in two bounds, moved to Tamor’s side. Grasping his shoulder, he hauled him out of his seat and flung him across the Bridge as if he were a ragdoll. The young Yridian bounced off of the Vulcan’s command chair before landing on the deck where he lay, immobile. Ignoring him, the Vulcan began to manipulate the helm controls.
He was a moment too late.
The aft section of the runabout contained the ship’s warp core that Huntington had programmed to overload thirty seconds after the two sections of the ship had separated. The resulting explosion wasn’t huge by any stretch of the imagination. However, it was violent enough to shake the Vulcan’s ship.
“Report!,” shouted the Vulcan with a raised voice now.
“Shields are at fifty percent,” said Ingrid. “There’s a lot of radiation out there and it’s affecting our scanners.”
The Vulcan was calm now. He stood up and moved back towards his chair. He stopped just before he reached it and stood over the silent Yridian. Looking down, he asked,” So we’ve lost them?” His voice was emotionless once again.
“For the moment,” Ingrid said, trying to inject some hope into her words.
The Vulcan knelt down and examined Tamor. “It appears that Adam Charles Huntington will be harder to deal with than I had anticipated. Excellent.” A smile grew on his face.
“Is he dead?,” the red-haired woman asked, gesturing towards the Yridian.
The Vulcan grasped Tamor’s neck with his right hand and proceeded to squeeze until a sharp crack echoed around the Bridge. Ingrid shuddered at the sound.
“He is now,” he said, standing up. “Clean up the Bridge and get me a new helm officer.”
“Yes, Doctor,” she replied. “What are you going to do?”
The Vulcan was staring down at his right hand, turning it one way and then another, admiring the sleekness of his black gloves. Finally, he turned towards Ingrid. “I’m going to find Adam Charles Huntington and rip his heart out,” he said with clinical detachment.
- Status
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