Originally posted on fanfiction.net - Link.
Note: This story takes place during the episode "Terminal Provocations".
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Terminal Repercussions
“This is so unfair,” Boimler grumbled climbing into an EV suit in the Main Shuttlebay. “We get assigned to cargo retrieval duty as punishment for the mess the corrupted computer core made in the corridors while Fletcher gets to attend a private encore performance by the Zebulon Sisters with Commander Ransom!”
“Hey, it beats working on repairs to the ship’s waste extraction system after it got damaged during the fight with the Drookmani,” Mariner pointed out suiting up next to him. “Or getting a mark on our records for ditching our posts to see the Chu-Chu dance without authorization.”
“You have a point,” Boimler sighed. “Still, it’s annoying to see Fletcher being rewarded instead of us.”
“What are you talking about?” Rutherford said as he and Tendi walked up wearing their own EV suits. “Sounds to me like Fletcher did a great job. We all might have been killed if it wasn’t for him.”
“Yeah, from what Mariner said he acted very heroically leading you guys and improvising a way to save the ship,” Tendi added. “It’s not like shooting the removed, autonomous isolinear computer core out an airlock was your idea.”
“Well, actually…” Boimler began.
“Yeah, whatever,” Mariner waved cutting Boimler off. “Saving the ship in the afternoon, cargo retrieval in the evening. Just another typical day in the lives of Starfleet’s lower decks.”
“Alright, people. Listen up,” Lieutenant Commander Billups strode into the Main Shuttlebay. Several other retrieval teams were suited up and standing by. “Repairs to the Cerritos are nearly complete, so the captain wants us to retrieve what’s left of the old cargo before the Drookmani finish repairs to their own ship or another scavenger ship shows up.”
“Um, sir?” Tendi tentatively raised her hand. “Why are we conducting spacewalks? Can’t we just retrieve the cargo using the tractor beam?”
“No. The debris field is too dense and the cargo containers too deep within it to get a precise lock,” Billups explained. “Besides, the tractor beam is still offline after being damaged during the fight.”
“So lemme get this straight,” Mariner gave him a look. “Instead of heading into a potentially hazardous debris field from safely inside a swarm of maneuverable, shielded shuttlecraft or workbees, the captain decided we should risk our lives by wandering out clad in only flimsy, unshielded EV suits?”
“Yep,” Billups nodded. “Let’s get to it!”
“Yes, sir!” Everyone replied and moved out.
“I have admit, you have a point about the captain not letting us use shuttlecraft for this assignment,” Boimler said slipping on his EV helmet. “She could have at least let us take a shuttle out to where the cargo is instead of drifting out using only our initial momentum and EV suit thrusters. And we can’t use the transporters to beam out due to all the stray high-energy gravitons flying around from the previously excessive tractor beam usage. This retrieval duty is going to take forever!”
“Yeah, floating out into the void of space with nothing but a few layers of fabric and techy doo-dads between us and a cold painful death while on interstellar trash collection detail,” Mariner quipped with a grin. “Man, I love this job!”
“Okay, I can do this,” Tendi gulped toeing the edge of the shuttlebay door’s forcefield. “Just like the training program on the holodeck. It’ll be fun! I hope…”
“Well, not exactly like the holodeck,” Rutherford said as the four ensigns carefully pushed out into space. “This time there won’t be a corrupted, rogue computer program trying to kill us.”
“Rogue what?” Boimler did a take. “Just what the heck happened to you guys earlier?”
“Well, you see…” Rutherford and Tendi proceeded to regale their tale to their friends as they drifted towards their assigned cargo retrieval sector.
“Whoa, so you two spent the afternoon battling a killer, rogue holodeck character,” Mariner whistled later as the two finished their story. “Man, and I thought Boims and I had it rough.”
“Geeze, we’re really sorry, guys,” Boimler apologized. “If it wasn’t for us all the isolinear computer cores would’ve been in place, the shields wouldn’t have gone down and non-essential power wouldn’t have been diverted from the holodeck.”
“Yeah, our bad,” Mariner agreed. “Totally our fault.”
“Aw, that’s okay,” Tendi smiled. “What’s a little accidental, life-and-death situation between friends? I’m sure we’ll unintentionally end up doing something similar to you guys someday.”
“Let’s hope not,” Boimler looked slightly nervous. “I can’t believe the computer wasn’t accepting your voice commands. That’s something a hostile virus or deliberate sabotage would cause, not a diversion of power.”
“Uh, actually the computer was accepting our commands,” Rutherford said. “I was able to request and load different environment programs with ease.”
“You were?” Mariner gave him a look. “Then why didn’t you just ask the computer for the holodeck arch or exit?”
“Or ask one of the transporter rooms to beam you out?” Boimler added. “None of them were damaged during the attack.”
“Uh,” Rutherford blinked. “Because we didn’t…think about those options?”
“Gee, guess they must’ve slipped our minds,” Tendi laughed sheepishly. “Never occurred to us. Isn’t that silly?”
“Oh brother. And thought senior officers were absentminded,” Mariner rolled her eyes. “Did you even bother getting your various bodily injuries treated after you finally left the holodeck or did that ‘slip your minds’ too?”
“Nope. Tendi took me to Sickbay and patched me up good as new,” Rutherford said. “Turned out all my wounds were superficial.”
“And I treated myself for a minor case of frostbite,” Tendi beamed proudly. “I got us both cleared for duty just in time to go on this spacewalk.”
“Speaking of which, we’ve finally reached our assigned retrieval area,” Boimler announced pointing at a collection of floating cargo containers. He magnetized his boots and gently secured himself to one. “Let’s start sending this stuff back towards the Cerritos so they can catalogue it…” A large, unknown object suddenly flew past blocking part of the light. “Huh? What was that…yaaahhh!”
“Ahhh, what the heck?” Tendi yelped.
“Oh man,” Mariner gawked at the intruding object in surprise. “You gotta be kidding me!”
“Stupid, stupid Fletcher!” The ejected isolinear computer core Fletcher had corrupted loomed over them while perched on a nearby broken Antares-class nacelle. The core had clearly continued to incorporate acquired pieces of equipment to itself and was now the size of a shuttlecraft. “You wanna piece of this?”
“Oh no, not that thing again!” Boimler gulped. “It must have finished salvaging parts from the Drookmani ship and is now scavenging amongst the cargo.”
“So the scavengers got scavenged,” Mariner quipped. “Talk about irony.”
“C’mon! What you got? What you got?” The corrupted computer core launched itself at the ensigns.
“Look out!” Tendi shouted ducking for cover.
“Dummy! Dummy!” The core zipped by waving its grabbers.
“How is it talking to us?” Boimler yelped as the four ensigns sheltered behind various stray cargo containers. “Sound can’t travel through space!”
“Seriously? That’s what’s bothering you about this?” Mariner gave him a look.
“It must have incorporated part of the communication system from the Drookmani ship and used it to tap into our comms,” Rutherford reasoned as the core did an abrupt 180-degree turn in space. “Along with some thrusters and a ship’s miniature battery or warp core.”
“No, ya think?” Mariner drawled.
“Make me smarter! Make me smarter!” The core headed for them again.
“Okay, but where did all of its grabber thingies come from?” Tendi indicated the core’s various tentacle-like appendages. “Computer cores shouldn’t have those, corrupted or not.”
“Oh man, that core must’ve been infected with the morphogenic computer virus that invaded the ship a while back,” Rutherford realized. “The virus was capable of mutating opti-cable into neuro-synthetic muscular tissues. Part of the virus must have laid dormant inside the core until Fletcher modified it.”
“Stupid, stupid Fletcher!” The core ranted waving its mutated opti-cables.
“My thoughts exactly,” Boimler muttered.
“Wow, Fletcher really didn’t do a very good job programming that thing,” Tendi stared at the core.
“He didn’t program it,” Mariner explained. “He plugged it directed into his empty skull and imprinted his deluded brain patterns all over it.”
“He what?” Rutherford blinked. “But that doesn’t make any sense. That’s not how artificial intelligence works.”
“No, it’s how artificial idiocy works!” Mariner retorted.
“Get you Chu-Chu on! Get you Chu-Chu on!” The core sang while attempting some kind of bizarre, zero gravity breakdance.
“Case in point,” Mariner quipped.
“I’m the worst! I’m the worst!” The core paused and seemed to eyeball them. “Mmmm, delicioso!”
“Uh oh,” Tendi gulped. “I think the core is looking to incorporate more technology into itself.”
“Yeah, us!” Rutherford yelled as the core rocketed towards them. “Look out! Run! Uh, I mean float!”
“Wait! We have to protect the cargo!” Boimler shouted as the others jumped off the cargo containers towards another cluster of stray starship debris. “We can’t let that thing incorporate more unique Starfleet technology into itself! Even if the technology is over a hundred years out of date!”
“Die! Die! Die!” The approaching rogue core roared over the comms.
“On second thought,” Boimler blanched leaping after his friends. “AAAHHH, WAIT FOR ME!”
“Dark! Totally dark!” The corrupted core’s random rants echoed ominously in the four ensigns’ EV helmets. “Feed some stuff into this thing so it gets bigger!”
“Oh crud, crud, crud, crud, crud!” Mariner swore vaulting from one large chunk of starship debris to the next. “I swear if we make it back to the ship, Fletcher is a dead man!”
“Guys, I think that thing is after my implant!” Rutherford yelled frantically dodging the core’s mutated opti-cables. “Gaaahhh! And I thought avoiding Badgey was bad!”
“Oh please! Puh-lease!” The core chased after them sounding like a hungry baby.
“Man, what does that thing think it is, the Borg?” Mariner griped.
“At least the Borg usually attempt incorporating you alive,” Tendi panted. “Not that being assimilated is much better…”
“Ensign Boimler to Cerritos!” Boimler slapped the combadge built into his EV suit. “Four for emergency beam out!”
“Negative. The high-energy graviton count is still too high,” Chief Lundy replied. “It’s causing too much interference.”
“Figures,” Mariner activated her own comm. “Mariner to Shaxs! We got a rogue computer core on our tail. If you really want to shoot something today, now’s your chance!”
“What?!” Rutherford yelped. “Wait a second…!”
“Finally! I’ve been waiting all month for this!” Shaxs roared with glee. “Targeting phasers!”
“WHAT?!” Boimler shrieked.
PHHHWZZZZZZT!
“AAAHHHHHH!” Everyone screamed as phaser fire hurled out from the Cerritos like lightning bolts, missing the core and the four ensigns by sheer inches. Their close proximity to such powerful concentrations of directed rectified energy allowed the phaser’s corresponding electromagnetic field to resonate inside the four ensigns’ helmets.
“Shaxs are you crazy?!” Boimler cried. “Quit it before you kill someone! Namely us!”
“There’s too much gravimetric interference in the area,” Shaxs growled back. “I can’t get an exact phaser lock. And don’t call me crazy!”
“Uh, yes sir,” Boimler gulped.
“Ugh, never mind. We’ll figure out something else,” Mariner groaned closing the channel.
“Whatever we’re going to do we better do it fast!” Rutherford yelped frantically as the core bore down on him. “Help! Save me!”
“Come on, just back me up!” The core pleaded sailing after him. “I’m not going down!”
“Float, Rutherford! Float like the wind!” Tendi urged. “And don’t forget to magnet!”
“Don’t worry, Ruthy. I’ll save ya!” Mariner grabbed a sharp-edged piece of duranium debris and prepared to launch herself at the core. “Won’t be the first time some grabby, brain-dead loser tried getting me out my clothes…”
“Wait!” Boimler spotted something drifting amongst the debris field. “I have an idea!”
“Great! What is it?” Tendi asked following him through the field towards the only derelict object to remain mostly intact. “Wait, is that a…?”
“Yep,” Boimler quickly popped open a panel. “I just hope there’s still some power left in this thing. I could really use Rutherford’s help with this.”
“No problem-o,” Mariner grabbed Boimler and twirled him around for a second before tossing him towards the core. “Everyone switch partners!”
“WHAT?! NO!” Boimler yelped flying off. “YAAAHHHHHH!”
“Mmmm, I got this!” The core turned about and immediately went after Boimler.
“Whew, thanks man!” Rutherford gasped sailing past him. “I owe you one!”
“You can buy him a glass of prune juice later,” Mariner said as Rutherford joined her and Tendi around the intact derelict object. “Hurry and fire this thing up before the giant, cybernetic cephalopod over there ends up having Boimler for dinner.”
“AAAHHHHHH!” Boimler screamed while desperately attempting to stay one step ahead of the rogue core. “THIS IS INSANE! YOU CAN’T INCORPORATE ME! I’M AN ORGANIC BEING! WHY ARE YOU CHASING ME?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know!” The core sputtered. “I just want you to be proud of me!”
“I’LL BE PROUD IF I DON’T DIE!” Boimler cried as one of the core’s mutated opti-cables wrapped around his leg. “AAACCCKKK! HELP! IT’S GOT ME! NOOOOOOOOO!”
“Hey you! Bozo!” Mariner shouted standing on the intact derelict object waving her arms. “Over here ya spineless, empty-headed wimp! And I’m not talking about Boimler!”
“What?!” Boimler sputtered in indignation.
“Come on ya overgrown isolinear chip!” Mariner taunted. “Afraid to throw down with a real woman or are you as big a biHnuch as that featherheaded chicken Fletcher?”
“DON’T YOU TALK ABOUT MY DAD!” The core roared letting Boimler go and rocketed towards Mariner.
“Bon appétit, Bozo!” Mariner leapt clear of the intact derelict object which turned out to be a beat up, early 23rd century warp sled. The rogue computer core eagerly wrapped itself around it. “Have fun chewing on that! Hit it, Ruthy!”
“Okey-dokey!” Rutherford tapped his tricorder and engaged the sled’s warp engines.
“Oh, thanks you guys…AAAHHHHHH!” The core screamed as the old sled powered up and warped away.
“So long, sucker!” Mariner hooted.
“Bye! Don’t forget to send a postcard over subspace,” Tendi waved. She spotted a limp Boimler drift by and floated over to him. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Of course I’m not okay,” Boimler gasped. “I was nearly eaten alive by a corrupted, rogue computer core!”
“Aw, don’t be silly,” Tendi smiled checking him with her tricorder. “The core wouldn’t have eaten you. It would have just incorporated your EV suit and left you to die in the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space.”
“Thanks,” Boimler groaned. “That makes me feel so much better.”
“Great job with the decoy bit, Boims,” Mariner grinned floating next to him. “Bet that wasn’t the first time you played the dummy.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny,” Boimler glared at her. “Can we please take our assigned cargo containers back to the ship? Or is there some other way you’d like to endanger my life while we’re out here?”
“Na, I think we’ve hit our quota for today,” Mariner smirked. “Let’s head in.”
“Thank goodness,” Boimler sighed as the four ensigns quickly collected several cargo containers and began herding them back towards the Cerritos.
“Gee, it’s too bad we had to get rid of the modified computer core like that,” Tendi said as they drifted along with the containers. “Do you think the captain will try to retrieve it after we’re done cataloging all this cargo?”
“Naw, that old warp sled will probably blow up before that,” Rutherford commented. “Or hit a rogue comet or piece of space debris thus scattering its remains over a cubic parsec or two of space.”
“One can only hope,” Boimler sighed. “That’s the last time I ever want to tangle with a mouthy, rogue supercomputer.”
“More like a rogue stupidcomputer considering the brain patterns it was based on,” Mariner quipped.
“Heard you ran into a little trouble out there,” Billups commented later as the four ensigns finally returned to the Main Shuttlebay. “Good work.”
“A little?!” Boimler sputtered.
“Thank you, sir,” Rutherford smiled as they all removed their helmets. “All part of the exciting life in Starfleet!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mariner waved. “Let’s bag and tag this stuff so we can call it a day and hit the bar.” She opened one of the cargo containers. “Okay, looks like we have some…wait a minute. What is this stuff?”
“Oooo, lemme see,” Tendi chirped and eagerly inspected the contents. “Hmmm, a set of life support belts, some remote controlled neural stimulators for controlling humanoid bodies without a brain, a set of white helmets with antennas and a flashing light on the top, a set of yellow bug-eyed helmets with the Starfleet logo on the top…”
“Huh?” Boimler blinked and rifled through the container’s contents in surprise. “There’s no important or potentially dangerous stuff in here. It’s all a bunch of junk!”
“I don’t get it,” Rutherford scratched his head. “I thought we were retrieving cargo from a lost convoy carrying a load of unique, classified Starfleet technology.”
“Uh, not exactly,” Billups coughed. “More like a convoy carrying a load of obsolete Starfleet technology. Even by 23rd century standards. Those old Antares-class ships were originally headed to Federation Surplus Depot E13.”
“But why was all this equipment considered classified?” Tendi asked. “This technology is so primitive it doesn’t even possess transtators.”
“To prevent anyone from discovering Starfleet ever used this equipment in the first place, much less invented it and put it into production,” Billups explained. “Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be if word of this got out? We’d be the laughing stock of the galaxy.”
“Too late for that,” Mariner quipped.
“I don’t believe it,” Boimler gaped at the cargo container in shock. “I risked my life for this?”
“Yes, and you did an excellent job doing so,” Billups said. “Good work.”
“Ransom to Billups,” Commander Ransom’s voice rang out from Billups’ communicator. The alluring tones of the Zebulon Sisters could be heard crooning in the background. “How are the retrieval efforts going, Andy?”
“Proceeding on schedule, sir,” Billups replied. “We should be finished in a few hours.”
“Good,” Ransom said. “Once cargo retrieval operations are complete, you and whoever you choose to bring are invited to a party in Conference Room One to celebrate the heroic recent actions of Ensign Fletcher.”
“What?!” Boimler yelped.
“The captain just finished reading my report on Ensign Fletcher’s brave, innovative actions during the fight with the Drookmani,” Ransom went on. “She decided that not only will he be receiving a commendation for his actions, she’ll be granting him a double promotion to full lieutenant.”
“WHAT?!” Boimler looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
“Thanks for the notice, sir. I’ll be sure to spread the word,” Billups said tapping his combadge. “Well, since you four are already here and have done such a good job retrieving cargo you’re all invited to Ensign Fletcher’s promotion party.”
“Really?” Tendi squealed excitedly. “Oooo, that’s great!”
“Yeah, thank you, sir,” Rutherford smiled. “Sounds like fun!”
“Eh, whatever,” Mariner shrugged. “I’ll take any excuse to crash a party if alcohol is involved. Plus, it’ll be a good opportunity to get the senior officers drunk. Maybe I’ll try ‘convincing’ Ransom or the captain to transfer Fletcher to another ship…”
“I can’t stand it!” Boimler groaned banging his head against one of the retrieved white helmets with a flashing light. “I just can’t stand it!”
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Lower Decks.
Note: This story takes place during the episode "Terminal Provocations".
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Terminal Repercussions
“This is so unfair,” Boimler grumbled climbing into an EV suit in the Main Shuttlebay. “We get assigned to cargo retrieval duty as punishment for the mess the corrupted computer core made in the corridors while Fletcher gets to attend a private encore performance by the Zebulon Sisters with Commander Ransom!”
“Hey, it beats working on repairs to the ship’s waste extraction system after it got damaged during the fight with the Drookmani,” Mariner pointed out suiting up next to him. “Or getting a mark on our records for ditching our posts to see the Chu-Chu dance without authorization.”
“You have a point,” Boimler sighed. “Still, it’s annoying to see Fletcher being rewarded instead of us.”
“What are you talking about?” Rutherford said as he and Tendi walked up wearing their own EV suits. “Sounds to me like Fletcher did a great job. We all might have been killed if it wasn’t for him.”
“Yeah, from what Mariner said he acted very heroically leading you guys and improvising a way to save the ship,” Tendi added. “It’s not like shooting the removed, autonomous isolinear computer core out an airlock was your idea.”
“Well, actually…” Boimler began.
“Yeah, whatever,” Mariner waved cutting Boimler off. “Saving the ship in the afternoon, cargo retrieval in the evening. Just another typical day in the lives of Starfleet’s lower decks.”
“Alright, people. Listen up,” Lieutenant Commander Billups strode into the Main Shuttlebay. Several other retrieval teams were suited up and standing by. “Repairs to the Cerritos are nearly complete, so the captain wants us to retrieve what’s left of the old cargo before the Drookmani finish repairs to their own ship or another scavenger ship shows up.”
“Um, sir?” Tendi tentatively raised her hand. “Why are we conducting spacewalks? Can’t we just retrieve the cargo using the tractor beam?”
“No. The debris field is too dense and the cargo containers too deep within it to get a precise lock,” Billups explained. “Besides, the tractor beam is still offline after being damaged during the fight.”
“So lemme get this straight,” Mariner gave him a look. “Instead of heading into a potentially hazardous debris field from safely inside a swarm of maneuverable, shielded shuttlecraft or workbees, the captain decided we should risk our lives by wandering out clad in only flimsy, unshielded EV suits?”
“Yep,” Billups nodded. “Let’s get to it!”
“Yes, sir!” Everyone replied and moved out.
“I have admit, you have a point about the captain not letting us use shuttlecraft for this assignment,” Boimler said slipping on his EV helmet. “She could have at least let us take a shuttle out to where the cargo is instead of drifting out using only our initial momentum and EV suit thrusters. And we can’t use the transporters to beam out due to all the stray high-energy gravitons flying around from the previously excessive tractor beam usage. This retrieval duty is going to take forever!”
“Yeah, floating out into the void of space with nothing but a few layers of fabric and techy doo-dads between us and a cold painful death while on interstellar trash collection detail,” Mariner quipped with a grin. “Man, I love this job!”
“Okay, I can do this,” Tendi gulped toeing the edge of the shuttlebay door’s forcefield. “Just like the training program on the holodeck. It’ll be fun! I hope…”
“Well, not exactly like the holodeck,” Rutherford said as the four ensigns carefully pushed out into space. “This time there won’t be a corrupted, rogue computer program trying to kill us.”
“Rogue what?” Boimler did a take. “Just what the heck happened to you guys earlier?”
“Well, you see…” Rutherford and Tendi proceeded to regale their tale to their friends as they drifted towards their assigned cargo retrieval sector.
“Whoa, so you two spent the afternoon battling a killer, rogue holodeck character,” Mariner whistled later as the two finished their story. “Man, and I thought Boims and I had it rough.”
“Geeze, we’re really sorry, guys,” Boimler apologized. “If it wasn’t for us all the isolinear computer cores would’ve been in place, the shields wouldn’t have gone down and non-essential power wouldn’t have been diverted from the holodeck.”
“Yeah, our bad,” Mariner agreed. “Totally our fault.”
“Aw, that’s okay,” Tendi smiled. “What’s a little accidental, life-and-death situation between friends? I’m sure we’ll unintentionally end up doing something similar to you guys someday.”
“Let’s hope not,” Boimler looked slightly nervous. “I can’t believe the computer wasn’t accepting your voice commands. That’s something a hostile virus or deliberate sabotage would cause, not a diversion of power.”
“Uh, actually the computer was accepting our commands,” Rutherford said. “I was able to request and load different environment programs with ease.”
“You were?” Mariner gave him a look. “Then why didn’t you just ask the computer for the holodeck arch or exit?”
“Or ask one of the transporter rooms to beam you out?” Boimler added. “None of them were damaged during the attack.”
“Uh,” Rutherford blinked. “Because we didn’t…think about those options?”
“Gee, guess they must’ve slipped our minds,” Tendi laughed sheepishly. “Never occurred to us. Isn’t that silly?”
“Oh brother. And thought senior officers were absentminded,” Mariner rolled her eyes. “Did you even bother getting your various bodily injuries treated after you finally left the holodeck or did that ‘slip your minds’ too?”
“Nope. Tendi took me to Sickbay and patched me up good as new,” Rutherford said. “Turned out all my wounds were superficial.”
“And I treated myself for a minor case of frostbite,” Tendi beamed proudly. “I got us both cleared for duty just in time to go on this spacewalk.”
“Speaking of which, we’ve finally reached our assigned retrieval area,” Boimler announced pointing at a collection of floating cargo containers. He magnetized his boots and gently secured himself to one. “Let’s start sending this stuff back towards the Cerritos so they can catalogue it…” A large, unknown object suddenly flew past blocking part of the light. “Huh? What was that…yaaahhh!”
“Ahhh, what the heck?” Tendi yelped.
“Oh man,” Mariner gawked at the intruding object in surprise. “You gotta be kidding me!”
“Stupid, stupid Fletcher!” The ejected isolinear computer core Fletcher had corrupted loomed over them while perched on a nearby broken Antares-class nacelle. The core had clearly continued to incorporate acquired pieces of equipment to itself and was now the size of a shuttlecraft. “You wanna piece of this?”
“Oh no, not that thing again!” Boimler gulped. “It must have finished salvaging parts from the Drookmani ship and is now scavenging amongst the cargo.”
“So the scavengers got scavenged,” Mariner quipped. “Talk about irony.”
“C’mon! What you got? What you got?” The corrupted computer core launched itself at the ensigns.
“Look out!” Tendi shouted ducking for cover.
“Dummy! Dummy!” The core zipped by waving its grabbers.
“How is it talking to us?” Boimler yelped as the four ensigns sheltered behind various stray cargo containers. “Sound can’t travel through space!”
“Seriously? That’s what’s bothering you about this?” Mariner gave him a look.
“It must have incorporated part of the communication system from the Drookmani ship and used it to tap into our comms,” Rutherford reasoned as the core did an abrupt 180-degree turn in space. “Along with some thrusters and a ship’s miniature battery or warp core.”
“No, ya think?” Mariner drawled.
“Make me smarter! Make me smarter!” The core headed for them again.
“Okay, but where did all of its grabber thingies come from?” Tendi indicated the core’s various tentacle-like appendages. “Computer cores shouldn’t have those, corrupted or not.”
“Oh man, that core must’ve been infected with the morphogenic computer virus that invaded the ship a while back,” Rutherford realized. “The virus was capable of mutating opti-cable into neuro-synthetic muscular tissues. Part of the virus must have laid dormant inside the core until Fletcher modified it.”
“Stupid, stupid Fletcher!” The core ranted waving its mutated opti-cables.
“My thoughts exactly,” Boimler muttered.
“Wow, Fletcher really didn’t do a very good job programming that thing,” Tendi stared at the core.
“He didn’t program it,” Mariner explained. “He plugged it directed into his empty skull and imprinted his deluded brain patterns all over it.”
“He what?” Rutherford blinked. “But that doesn’t make any sense. That’s not how artificial intelligence works.”
“No, it’s how artificial idiocy works!” Mariner retorted.
“Get you Chu-Chu on! Get you Chu-Chu on!” The core sang while attempting some kind of bizarre, zero gravity breakdance.
“Case in point,” Mariner quipped.
“I’m the worst! I’m the worst!” The core paused and seemed to eyeball them. “Mmmm, delicioso!”
“Uh oh,” Tendi gulped. “I think the core is looking to incorporate more technology into itself.”
“Yeah, us!” Rutherford yelled as the core rocketed towards them. “Look out! Run! Uh, I mean float!”
“Wait! We have to protect the cargo!” Boimler shouted as the others jumped off the cargo containers towards another cluster of stray starship debris. “We can’t let that thing incorporate more unique Starfleet technology into itself! Even if the technology is over a hundred years out of date!”
“Die! Die! Die!” The approaching rogue core roared over the comms.
“On second thought,” Boimler blanched leaping after his friends. “AAAHHH, WAIT FOR ME!”
“Dark! Totally dark!” The corrupted core’s random rants echoed ominously in the four ensigns’ EV helmets. “Feed some stuff into this thing so it gets bigger!”
“Oh crud, crud, crud, crud, crud!” Mariner swore vaulting from one large chunk of starship debris to the next. “I swear if we make it back to the ship, Fletcher is a dead man!”
“Guys, I think that thing is after my implant!” Rutherford yelled frantically dodging the core’s mutated opti-cables. “Gaaahhh! And I thought avoiding Badgey was bad!”
“Oh please! Puh-lease!” The core chased after them sounding like a hungry baby.
“Man, what does that thing think it is, the Borg?” Mariner griped.
“At least the Borg usually attempt incorporating you alive,” Tendi panted. “Not that being assimilated is much better…”
“Ensign Boimler to Cerritos!” Boimler slapped the combadge built into his EV suit. “Four for emergency beam out!”
“Negative. The high-energy graviton count is still too high,” Chief Lundy replied. “It’s causing too much interference.”
“Figures,” Mariner activated her own comm. “Mariner to Shaxs! We got a rogue computer core on our tail. If you really want to shoot something today, now’s your chance!”
“What?!” Rutherford yelped. “Wait a second…!”
“Finally! I’ve been waiting all month for this!” Shaxs roared with glee. “Targeting phasers!”
“WHAT?!” Boimler shrieked.
PHHHWZZZZZZT!
“AAAHHHHHH!” Everyone screamed as phaser fire hurled out from the Cerritos like lightning bolts, missing the core and the four ensigns by sheer inches. Their close proximity to such powerful concentrations of directed rectified energy allowed the phaser’s corresponding electromagnetic field to resonate inside the four ensigns’ helmets.
“Shaxs are you crazy?!” Boimler cried. “Quit it before you kill someone! Namely us!”
“There’s too much gravimetric interference in the area,” Shaxs growled back. “I can’t get an exact phaser lock. And don’t call me crazy!”
“Uh, yes sir,” Boimler gulped.
“Ugh, never mind. We’ll figure out something else,” Mariner groaned closing the channel.
“Whatever we’re going to do we better do it fast!” Rutherford yelped frantically as the core bore down on him. “Help! Save me!”
“Come on, just back me up!” The core pleaded sailing after him. “I’m not going down!”
“Float, Rutherford! Float like the wind!” Tendi urged. “And don’t forget to magnet!”
“Don’t worry, Ruthy. I’ll save ya!” Mariner grabbed a sharp-edged piece of duranium debris and prepared to launch herself at the core. “Won’t be the first time some grabby, brain-dead loser tried getting me out my clothes…”
“Wait!” Boimler spotted something drifting amongst the debris field. “I have an idea!”
“Great! What is it?” Tendi asked following him through the field towards the only derelict object to remain mostly intact. “Wait, is that a…?”
“Yep,” Boimler quickly popped open a panel. “I just hope there’s still some power left in this thing. I could really use Rutherford’s help with this.”
“No problem-o,” Mariner grabbed Boimler and twirled him around for a second before tossing him towards the core. “Everyone switch partners!”
“WHAT?! NO!” Boimler yelped flying off. “YAAAHHHHHH!”
“Mmmm, I got this!” The core turned about and immediately went after Boimler.
“Whew, thanks man!” Rutherford gasped sailing past him. “I owe you one!”
“You can buy him a glass of prune juice later,” Mariner said as Rutherford joined her and Tendi around the intact derelict object. “Hurry and fire this thing up before the giant, cybernetic cephalopod over there ends up having Boimler for dinner.”
“AAAHHHHHH!” Boimler screamed while desperately attempting to stay one step ahead of the rogue core. “THIS IS INSANE! YOU CAN’T INCORPORATE ME! I’M AN ORGANIC BEING! WHY ARE YOU CHASING ME?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know!” The core sputtered. “I just want you to be proud of me!”
“I’LL BE PROUD IF I DON’T DIE!” Boimler cried as one of the core’s mutated opti-cables wrapped around his leg. “AAACCCKKK! HELP! IT’S GOT ME! NOOOOOOOOO!”
“Hey you! Bozo!” Mariner shouted standing on the intact derelict object waving her arms. “Over here ya spineless, empty-headed wimp! And I’m not talking about Boimler!”
“What?!” Boimler sputtered in indignation.
“Come on ya overgrown isolinear chip!” Mariner taunted. “Afraid to throw down with a real woman or are you as big a biHnuch as that featherheaded chicken Fletcher?”
“DON’T YOU TALK ABOUT MY DAD!” The core roared letting Boimler go and rocketed towards Mariner.
“Bon appétit, Bozo!” Mariner leapt clear of the intact derelict object which turned out to be a beat up, early 23rd century warp sled. The rogue computer core eagerly wrapped itself around it. “Have fun chewing on that! Hit it, Ruthy!”
“Okey-dokey!” Rutherford tapped his tricorder and engaged the sled’s warp engines.
“Oh, thanks you guys…AAAHHHHHH!” The core screamed as the old sled powered up and warped away.
“So long, sucker!” Mariner hooted.
“Bye! Don’t forget to send a postcard over subspace,” Tendi waved. She spotted a limp Boimler drift by and floated over to him. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Of course I’m not okay,” Boimler gasped. “I was nearly eaten alive by a corrupted, rogue computer core!”
“Aw, don’t be silly,” Tendi smiled checking him with her tricorder. “The core wouldn’t have eaten you. It would have just incorporated your EV suit and left you to die in the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space.”
“Thanks,” Boimler groaned. “That makes me feel so much better.”
“Great job with the decoy bit, Boims,” Mariner grinned floating next to him. “Bet that wasn’t the first time you played the dummy.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny,” Boimler glared at her. “Can we please take our assigned cargo containers back to the ship? Or is there some other way you’d like to endanger my life while we’re out here?”
“Na, I think we’ve hit our quota for today,” Mariner smirked. “Let’s head in.”
“Thank goodness,” Boimler sighed as the four ensigns quickly collected several cargo containers and began herding them back towards the Cerritos.
“Gee, it’s too bad we had to get rid of the modified computer core like that,” Tendi said as they drifted along with the containers. “Do you think the captain will try to retrieve it after we’re done cataloging all this cargo?”
“Naw, that old warp sled will probably blow up before that,” Rutherford commented. “Or hit a rogue comet or piece of space debris thus scattering its remains over a cubic parsec or two of space.”
“One can only hope,” Boimler sighed. “That’s the last time I ever want to tangle with a mouthy, rogue supercomputer.”
“More like a rogue stupidcomputer considering the brain patterns it was based on,” Mariner quipped.
“Heard you ran into a little trouble out there,” Billups commented later as the four ensigns finally returned to the Main Shuttlebay. “Good work.”
“A little?!” Boimler sputtered.
“Thank you, sir,” Rutherford smiled as they all removed their helmets. “All part of the exciting life in Starfleet!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mariner waved. “Let’s bag and tag this stuff so we can call it a day and hit the bar.” She opened one of the cargo containers. “Okay, looks like we have some…wait a minute. What is this stuff?”
“Oooo, lemme see,” Tendi chirped and eagerly inspected the contents. “Hmmm, a set of life support belts, some remote controlled neural stimulators for controlling humanoid bodies without a brain, a set of white helmets with antennas and a flashing light on the top, a set of yellow bug-eyed helmets with the Starfleet logo on the top…”
“Huh?” Boimler blinked and rifled through the container’s contents in surprise. “There’s no important or potentially dangerous stuff in here. It’s all a bunch of junk!”
“I don’t get it,” Rutherford scratched his head. “I thought we were retrieving cargo from a lost convoy carrying a load of unique, classified Starfleet technology.”
“Uh, not exactly,” Billups coughed. “More like a convoy carrying a load of obsolete Starfleet technology. Even by 23rd century standards. Those old Antares-class ships were originally headed to Federation Surplus Depot E13.”
“But why was all this equipment considered classified?” Tendi asked. “This technology is so primitive it doesn’t even possess transtators.”
“To prevent anyone from discovering Starfleet ever used this equipment in the first place, much less invented it and put it into production,” Billups explained. “Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be if word of this got out? We’d be the laughing stock of the galaxy.”
“Too late for that,” Mariner quipped.
“I don’t believe it,” Boimler gaped at the cargo container in shock. “I risked my life for this?”
“Yes, and you did an excellent job doing so,” Billups said. “Good work.”
“Ransom to Billups,” Commander Ransom’s voice rang out from Billups’ communicator. The alluring tones of the Zebulon Sisters could be heard crooning in the background. “How are the retrieval efforts going, Andy?”
“Proceeding on schedule, sir,” Billups replied. “We should be finished in a few hours.”
“Good,” Ransom said. “Once cargo retrieval operations are complete, you and whoever you choose to bring are invited to a party in Conference Room One to celebrate the heroic recent actions of Ensign Fletcher.”
“What?!” Boimler yelped.
“The captain just finished reading my report on Ensign Fletcher’s brave, innovative actions during the fight with the Drookmani,” Ransom went on. “She decided that not only will he be receiving a commendation for his actions, she’ll be granting him a double promotion to full lieutenant.”
“WHAT?!” Boimler looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
“Thanks for the notice, sir. I’ll be sure to spread the word,” Billups said tapping his combadge. “Well, since you four are already here and have done such a good job retrieving cargo you’re all invited to Ensign Fletcher’s promotion party.”
“Really?” Tendi squealed excitedly. “Oooo, that’s great!”
“Yeah, thank you, sir,” Rutherford smiled. “Sounds like fun!”
“Eh, whatever,” Mariner shrugged. “I’ll take any excuse to crash a party if alcohol is involved. Plus, it’ll be a good opportunity to get the senior officers drunk. Maybe I’ll try ‘convincing’ Ransom or the captain to transfer Fletcher to another ship…”
“I can’t stand it!” Boimler groaned banging his head against one of the retrieved white helmets with a flashing light. “I just can’t stand it!”
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Lower Decks.
