The Star Eagle Adventures I: Tempus Fugit (Repost)

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by CeJay, Aug 24, 2007.

  1. CeJay

    CeJay Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Feb 5, 2006
    [​IMG]

    The Star Eagle Adventures I
    Based Upon ‘Star Trek’

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    TEMPUS FUGIT
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    Space, frontier to the unknown,
    These are the adventures of the starship Eagle.
    The time: the twenty-fourth century,
    The mission: To maintain peace in the galaxy,
    To explore strange new worlds,
    To seek out new life and new civilizations,
    And to boldly go, where no one has gone before.





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    AUTHOR'S NOTE:
    Welcome to the repost of the first story in the Star Eagle Adventures series. Originally posted here in March of 2006 this is for everyone who is interested in the series but missed the original post. Upon completion of posting the story will become available on the newly improved and re-designed Star Eagle Adventures website for download as both Word and PDF file.

    For those of you who have already read this story I’m afraid you won’t find many new additions except for improved grammar and editing and some other minor changes.

    Do feel free to post feedback if you wish. All comments are welcome.
    ********


    Stardate: 49669 (2372 AD)

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    PROLOGUE


    I have always marveled with great fascination at the limitless wonders that the universe has to offer. It is the reason why so many – including me – have made the decision to dedicate their lives to the never-ending enterprise of exploration. It is a dangerous quest and sometimes we are forced to make decisions which we later regret. Because only afterwards do we truly understand the full consequences of our actions. It is perhaps a little discomforting to realize that we can never look at the whole picture until time has long passed and we get the luxury of looking back at past times. But it is also part of how we learn, every decision we make, every action we take, no matter if it is right or wrong, we hope always that it will teach us something about ourselves and the galaxy in which we live in. To continuously improve ourselves, for that is truly why we are out here.

    And yet in our fantastic galaxy there seem to be no absolutes and no certainties. Laws of physics, nature and even time are never as absolute as we perceive them to be. Death does not always mean death and the past is not always in the past. We always carry with us the ghosts and the mistakes of yesteryear but what do we do when we are faced with the possibilities of changing our own history? Certainly we allow ourselves to imagine what we could have done differently over and over again. But can we really change the course of events or is the galaxy just toying with us, teasing us with promises that can never come true.


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  2. CeJay

    CeJay Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Feb 5, 2006
    Chapter One: Yesterday's Mistakes

    CHAPTER ONE – YESTERDAY’S MISTAKES


    Six Years Ago ...


    A single shuttle - the Einstein - was making its way towards a large, green planet. Only a few minutes earlier it had cleared the shuttle bay of the nearby cruiser USS Columbia. The small craft approached a gray, circular device that lay calmly in the planet’s lower orbit. Its peculiar form distinguished it from more traditional satellites. Shaped like a wine glass, a steady blue energy beam emitted from its long stem which was focused on a particular point on the surface of the planet. The pulsating beam, functioning like an anchor, kept the peculiar satellite firm in place. The opposite end – an empty dish – pointed into outer space.

    The Einstein began to change its heading to begin its decent towards the planet’s surface, towards the source of the energy beam, thousands of meters below. The surface was not directly visible from space. The energy beam seemed to disappear beneath a massive buildup of green and grey clouds. Circular lightning patterns shot through the coverage. Every so often super-charged yellow particles would flash up in the skies. The storm was impressive and yet it hadn’t reached its full strength yet. A few miles west from where the beam disappeared, even stronger and more erratic storm patterns were building up and moving eastwards. From space, the few miles looked like a few inches but it would take at least another hour for the storm to hit.

    Inside the shuttle Lieutenant Commander Michael Timothy Owens watched the spectacle below with great curiosity. He stood just behind the sitting pilot, calmly and seemingly unconcerned, his dark blue eyes fixed on the storm below. He had just very recently become the first officer of the Columbia and at thirty-two that was quite an accomplishment. Owens had always been a career officer. He was an explorer at heart but his greatest desire was to one day become a starship captain. He had made plenty of sacrifices in his life to achieve that dream. His personal desires had taken a backseat in order for him to dedicate himself to that one goal. Sometimes he regretted the choices he had made. There were plenty of things he had never gotten around to do and many people he wished he had gotten to know better. But it had all been worth it, he told himself. Sacrifices were a necessity for people with great ambitions.

    And he generally liked the way his life had turned out so far. He enjoyed his work and he liked the people he worked with. And most importantly his recent promotion ensured that he was once again right on track to someday command his own starship.

    He focused his thoughts back on the job at hand. The shuttle was quickly drawing closer to the surface and quite suddenly the storm below looked much more threatening than it had from a higher orbit.

    “You’re sure we can make it through that?”

    The pilot turned his head to look at Owens. He was a young Andorian officer, youthful but showing no signs of inexperience. Owens knew he was one of the best pilots Columbia had to offer.

    His blue antennae on his head twitched slightly as he spoke. “We should be alright,” he said, “Our shields will deflect most of the discharges. It won’t be a smooth ride. I suggest that you brace yourself, sir.”

    Owens gave him a curt nod. A soft hand touched his shoulder and he looked around to see an angel standing behind him.

    He knew perfectly well that DeMara Deen was as real as he was. And yet he couldn’t blame anybody for making that mistake. She was beautiful beyond measure. It wasn’t just her perfect body, or her shimmering golden hair, or those radiant purple eyes. It was more than physical; Deen possessed what could only be called a mystical and unexplainable aura that seemed spellbinding to most persons in her presence.

    Owens noticed the Andorian officer losing his focus for a mere second before turning back to his instruments. Deen had that effect on people. Michael Owens was more resistant. Not because she found her any less enchanting but because he had been fortunate enough to be one of the first to be allowed to visit her home world and spent significant time with the Tenarian people. In fact he had been among the Starfleet crew to make first contact with the Tenarians just five years earlier. It had been as his assignment as Starfleet liaison on Tenaria that he had met DeMara. She had been fascinated with humans and he had been more than glad to teach her everything she wanted to know. She had been only eleven years old then but no longer a child. Tenarian’s matured much faster than most other humanoid species. She was sixteen now but to all outward appearances looked like a woman in her early twenties. Only few people realized that behind that young and gorgeous face lured an incredibly sharp mind.

    She smiled at him and Owens couldn’t resist smiling back. He might have been able to keep his focus but to resist her smile he had not yet learned.

    “You better take a seat,” she said softly. Her voice was perfectly suited for her character. Even though comforting, her voice carried with it a self-confidence that hinted towards her high intelligence.

    Owens nodded and followed Deen to the back of the small craft. There they both sat down on opposite benches lined up against the hull.

    Deen looked at her friend. She might not have been a specialist in reading humans but she had spent enough time with Owens to know what he was thinking.
    “Your first duty as an executive officer, your first major responsibility. You’ll do fine.”

    Owens turned to look at her smiling. “With you at my side what could possibly go wrong?”

    “I am not the one who will make this work. Doctor Frobisher and your brother are the real heroes here. They have done some amazing work. This will be a landmark event for science.”

    Deen’s excitement was hardly a surprise. She had been looking forward to this day for weeks now, ever since the Columbia had been assigned to the project. Owens was not as well versed in the exact science of this experiment. He knew the basics of course. He knew that it was the first attempt by Federation scientists to transport matter from one star system to another; many light years apart. He knew that it utilized a new revolutionary technology and he was also aware that if it was a success it wouldn’t be long until starships might become obsolete. A sad thought for him and yet Deen’s excitement was contagious. And of course she was completely correct in pointing out that this would his first serious assignment as a first officer. It would fall to him to ensure everything went according to plan.

    He turned to look at the storm again. The shuttle was now just moments away from diving into the dark clouds.

    Deen followed his glance. “This planet is the perfect testing ground. I heard it took Frobisher and your brother years to find it.”

    Owens nodded. “They predicted this storm would hit the surface six years ago.” Owens didn’t even attempt to understand it but something within this electromagnetic storm was unique. It had something to do with the electron density in the lightning charges that would properly stimulate the dark anti-matter on which the experiment relied and make the matter transport possible. What puzzled him the most was the fact that this sort of anomaly had not been witnessed on any other planet in the known galaxy and as far as he knew it would not happen again on Periphocles V for another hundred years or so. This was the only chance for this experiment to take place. So if this could only be done once every hundred years how could this technology become valuable at all? Deen had tried to explain it to him but he still didn’t fully understand. Apparently Frobisher and Matthew were trying to learn something that might help them to reproduced similar conditions artificially.

    “Brace yourselves,” the Andorian said.

    Owens held on tightly to his seat as the shuttle dived into the storm. He soon found out that the pilot had clearly understated the storm’s strength. The small shuttle began to jerk and shake not unlike a small rowboat caught in a massive hurricane.


    *****************************************************************


    The shuttle pilot proved his worth and steered the Einstein safely through the thickening storm and landing it near a provisional encampment. The small dwelling was made out of large tents and small temporary buildings. Doctor Owens and Doctor Frobisher had made this encampment their home for the last two years, working feverishly on their experiment. It usually also housed the forty-something assistants and workers that had been part of this undertaking from an early stage. However the lead scientists had decided to have them evacuated to the Columbia for the actual experiment. It had been considered safer to have only a handful of people around when the experiment began.

    Michael Owens wasn’t sure if he considered himself lucky to be among the few to witness the event. He stepped out of the shuttle, closely followed by Deen who appeared much more enthused about being there.

    As soon as they had both cleared the ship the Einstein took off again and shot back into the sky. Owens watched the departing ship until it had disappeared in the dense green clouds above. Blue and yellow lightning shot silently through the thick sky. As he looked into the distance he noticed what was still to come. A front of pulsating green mass was moving towards them. It looked mad and angry as if nature herself was out to unleash all its fury at once.

    A deafening roar emanated from the approaching inferno and Owens was momentarily stunned. When he had recovered he looked over to where Deen stood. She seemed fascinated by the spectacle, not in the slightest intimidated by the sudden noise. She was a scientist, nature did not frighten her.

    Owens turned his attention to his surroundings. Periphocles V was a rough and uninhabited world mostly covered by wasteland. It bordered on a miracle that it contained a sustainable atmosphere. There was not much to look at, mostly wide open spaces with a few mountain ranges in the distance. The entire land was drowned in an eerie greenish color.

    A few hundred feet from the landing platform, on a slightly elevated plateau, stood a large round structure about twelve meters high and eight in diameter and shaped almost like a delicate old-fashioned flower vase, with a wide, round base and a slim top. It was connected through all sorts of conduits to machinery nearby. Owens had visited the encampment before but he had not seen the finished device until now. It was unimpressive from the outside but he had been told that it housed some of the most astonishing technology available. Or at least that was what its designers had claimed. At the top of the structure sat a large emitter that shot out a pulsating blue beam into the sky.

    Owens and Deen began to approach the device. Coming closer they noticed a second emitter, this one pointed at a small platform close by. On the platform were a number of containers and crates, no doubt the test subjects.

    Suddenly the second emitter came to life shooting out a red beam that began to surround the objects on the platform.

    Owens threw Deen a concerned glance. The experiment was not scheduled to begin for another hour.

    “It’s a containment beam,” she explained as they walked up the plateau. “It helps to reinforce the matter particles of the test subjects and prepares them for the exposure to dark anti-matter.”

    Owens nodded pretending that he understood what she had told him. It was harmless that’s all he needed to know.

    They reached the device and found just one person working on what looked like final adjustments. It was Columbia’s chief engineer Lieutenant Commander Amaya Donners. She was not working directly at the machine itself. Westren Frobisher and Doctor Owens had not allowed any Starfleet engineers to touch their invention. Donners was double checking the power levels from an auxiliary monitoring station placed near the machine.

    Owens’ hesitated. He hadn’t been looking forward to this meeting. He had been Columbia’s first officer for just a few weeks and had managed to avoid the chief engineer for the most part.

    Deen noticed his reluctance immediately. She had arrived on Columbia shortly after Owens and didn’t know Donners very well. But she seemed to be an efficient engineer. Deen had sensed Owens’ discomfort around Donners before and had unsuccessfully tried to get an explanation out of him. He had shown an uncustomary indisposition to speak about the subject. She had realized that if she wanted to find out what exactly was the matter between them, she had to approach Donners.

    The chief engineer turned around. She was an attractive woman about Owens age but easily passing for five years younger. She had creamy brown skin and short straight hair. Owens didn’t like the hairstyle; it seemed too professional, too distant. But he could see that she carried herself with distinction, like a person meant for greater things. There was little doubt that the woman possessed a sharp intellect and great ingenuity. Her dark eyes made contact with Owens’ for just a few seconds, shooting him an icy glance.

    “We are all set here,” she said matter-of-factly. “All systems are working perfectly and we should achieve optimal atmospheric conditions in about one hour and twenty-two minutes.”

    For a few seconds nobody spoke.

    “Where are the doctors?” asked Deen finally, not able to bear the silence any longer.

    “They’re going through last minute calculations,” she replied. “They should be joining us shortly.”

    Deen nodded and looked at Owens. “Dark anti-matter can be extremely dangerous if any of the calculations are wrong. But if this experiment succeeds it might become a new reliable power source, ten times more powerful than regular anti-matter reactions.”

    Owens wasn’t listening. His focus had remained on Donners who had returned to work without paying any attention to him at all.

    The first officer stepped closer to the device, faking curiosity in a control panel close to where Donners was working at. “This is quite something,” he said to nobody in particular, still looking at the control panel. “We’re going to be witness to history in the making. Exciting, isn’t it?” said Owens with a smile, turning towards Donners.

    “Quite,” she said with no emotion in her voice. She was not looking at Owens.

    Deen watched both of them with curiosity.

    “Do you think this machine has the potential to make us obsolete?” he asked, glancing up at the accelerator.

    “What do you mean?”

    He looked at her. “If we can just beam people from one planet to another there wouldn’t be any need for starships anymore. Certainly no chief engineers.”

    Donners frowned and Owens immediately regretted his choice of words.

    “Or first officers,” he quickly added.

    “I am sure you’d find another job. Getting ahead in life has never been a problem for you,” Donners said. Her voice revealing a hint of spite.

    It was so slight that Deen almost missed it. But she was suddenly painfully aware that she was eavesdropping on the conversation. She quickly turned away to focus her attention on a power conduit nearby. But not without keeping at least one ear honed in.

    Owens’ smile had faded. “If I remember correctly you were as dedicated to success as I was. And you’ve done pretty well for yourself if I may say so.”

    “I am so glad that you approve.” She made no effort to hide the sarcasm now. “And I am proud of what I have accomplished. On my own, without stepping on anybody’s toes.”

    Donners confirmed a suspicion Owens had entertained for a while now. Donners had wanted to replace Columbia’s outgoing first officer and he was now pretty sure that she had lobbied hard with Captain Mendez to get that position. But in the end, for whatever reason, Mendez had decided to give the post to somebody else. He knew it couldn’t have been her age; their birthdays were just ten days apart.

    “Not that it matters but I didn’t ask for this position.” Owens went on the defensive. There was no reason to do that. He did not have to justify anything to Amaya Donners. But then why did he feel like he had to?

    Donners cracked a malicious smile. “I bet it helps having friends in high places though,” she said and turned away to leave.

    That point hit home. She knew Owens had never been happy about having an admiral as a father. He hated to be reminded and he had always vehemently denied any notions of nepotism that colleagues liked to entertain. But in the end how could he even be sure? He was in his father’s realm of influence if he wanted to or not. The obvious link to his father had often caused him to doubt himself and his achievements. It was his Achilles’ heel; he knew that and apparently so did Donners.

    He took a deep breath and a decisive step forward. The last thing he wanted to do now was to think of his father. He pushed those thoughts out of his mind as he moved closer to Donners until his face was just inches form the back of her head. The sweet smell of her hair filled his nostrils. For a short moment it brought back pleasant memories.

    “Commander, if you have a problem with me as your commanding officer I suggest you say so,” he said with a stern voice that he managed to keep at a level not much louder than a whisper. “We will need to have to work together and I don’t want it to become a problem.”

    Amaya Donners didn’t reply, didn’t even turn around. Instead she just walked away.

    Owens couldn’t quite believe her disregard. “Commander?” he called after her, his voice much louder now.

    Donners stopped and turned to face him. “You won’t need to worry about that, sir,” she said putting special emphasis on the title. “I’m leaving Columbia next week.”

    Owens was speechless. “You requested a transfer?”

    “Oh please, don’t flatter yourself. I was offered a position as a first officer. I’m just thinking of my career, Michael. Of all people I am sure you’d understand,” she said and then quickly excused herself and left for the encampment.

    Owens simply stood there, watching her leave.

    Deen stepped next to him. “Good for her,” she stated, looking at Owens.

    He nodded. “She always said she’d make captain before me. Who knows, she might be right.”

    “You two go back, don’t you?”

    Owens didn’t reply.

    “What happened?”

    The first officer turned to the large machine, inspecting the same control panel he had looked at before.

    A roaring thunder made the ground of Periphocles V tremble slightly. Owens looked skyward. The pulsating clouds were almost on top of them now.


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    Galen4 likes this.
  3. TheLoneRedshirt

    TheLoneRedshirt Commodore Commodore

    Joined:
    May 22, 2007
    Location:
    Here and now.
    Re: Chapter One: Yesterday's Mistakes

    First, thank you for re-posting this. I didn't have the opportunity to read it the first go-round.

    I appreciate the opportunity to get some background on Owens and Deen. You've begun the story with some interesting elements - a promising new technology, the tension between Donner and Owens, and the uncertainty of the coming storm and the experiment. Great stuff! :)
     
  4. CeJay

    CeJay Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Feb 5, 2006
    Re: Chapter One: Yesterday's Mistakes

    Thanks Redshirt.

    I plan to roll this out much faster than previous stories so that I can concentrate on more novel work.

    I forgot to make one addition to the first chapter. It takes place 6 years before the rest of the story.
     
  5. DavidFalkayn

    DavidFalkayn Commodore Commodore

    Joined:
    Dec 13, 2003
    Re: Chapter One: Yesterday's Mistakes

    This story is a good introduction to Owens and Co. I heartily recommend it to new readers--you'll enjoy the ride.
     
  6. Dulak

    Dulak Commander Red Shirt

    Joined:
    Jul 6, 2007
    Location:
    Pacific NW
    Thank you so much for reposting this. I look forward to reading it as soon as possible. I always like to start at the beginning, and since you have other stories, I was putting off reading them fully until I had the chance to read the first. Now I can do that.
     
  7. Gibraltar

    Gibraltar Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Sep 25, 2005
    Location:
    US Pacific Northwest
    Agreed, this is definitely a terrific introduction to your fascinating crew. Can't wait to read the changes you've made to the original, which was a standout work in and of itself. I've always appreciated Owens' humanity, his fallibility, and the fact that the man makes mistakes and learns from them. You’ve compiled an intriguing and compelling cast for these stories. :)
     
  8. CeJay

    CeJay Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Feb 5, 2006
    Thanks for the kind words, guys. I hope you will enjoy reading/re-reading this story. It still ranks among my favorites in the series.

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    A few minutes later a very familiar face approached Michael Owens from the encampment. He was just a little shorter than him but four years older. He had the same brownish hair which he wore a few inches longer. His distinct, almost chiseled chin was very similar to his own. Michael had always considered his brother to be the more handsome one. He took much more after his mother while Owens had the hawkish features of his father. Columbia’s first officer smiled when he saw the scientist. He had been reunited with his brother only about a week ago after not having seen him for years. Matthew had left home as soon as he’d had the chance, no longer willing to live in the same house as his father. He didn’t blame him at all. Not only was he better looking, he had also always been the smarter one. And that he certainly had proven by now.

    “Michael,” Matthew smiled as he stepped up onto the platform. But there was something else in his eyes that Michael noticed immediately. Concern perhaps or maybe something more serious. Probably not surprising considering that the moment he had waited for most of his life was now approaching fast.

    “About time you showed up for your own damn show,” Michael said and gave his brother a hug. He presented his companion. “You’ve met DeMara.”

    Matthew’s smile widened as he spotted the Tenarian officer. “Welcome. I’m glad you decided to join us.”

    “Trust me it’s an honor to be here.”

    The scientist looked at her for a moment and then shook his head. “That you’ve been hanging around this lame jockey here for all this time just baffles me,” he said with mock surprise. “You should come and work for me. You just might learn something interesting for once.”

    Deen smiled. “I will certainly consider your offer.”

    Michael pushed his brother away. “Oh no, she won’t. You will not steal her away. There’re enough people here already whose success has gotten to their heads.”

    Matthew laughed.

    Michael put an arm around his brother’s shoulder and they both watched the large device in front of them. “You deserve it though,” Michael Owens said looking at the machine, “I’m damn proud of you.”

    Deen watched the two brothers with a smile on her face. She had never had much of a chance to see them together. It seemed almost as if they’d been thrown back into time, two little kids playing with their toys and having a blast. She turned to join their appreciation of the grey and black machine. “What are you going to call this?” she asked.

    Matthew answered. “Well technically it’s a dark anti-matter quantum matrix accelerator.”

    “I don’t know,” replied Michael, “it doesn’t have a ring to it.”

    “I’m considering calling her Big Betty but I don’t think Wes likes it.”

    Owens smirked. He remembered that his brother’s first girlfriend was named Betty. She had been a rather tall girl for her age which had earned her the nick name.

    Matthew’s facial expressions became more somber as he turned back to his younger brother. “Mike, I need to talk to you.”

    The Starfleet officer nodded and Matthew led him a few feet away from the machine.

    “What is it? You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

    Matthew didn’t reply right away. Instead his gaze was fixed on the encampment. He let out a small sigh.

    Owens could feel that something serious was troubling his brother. Something he’d rather not speak about but felt obligated to communicate nevertheless. He put a hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me, Matt.”

    Matthew looked at Michael, cracking a small smile. “This has been quite a ride for me. For Wes and me. We’ve dreamed of this moment since we first started out together back at Cambridge. It feels like a lifetime ago now. And it’s hard to believe it’s all about to come true.”

    “I understand. I can imagine the pressure you must feel.”

    Matthew nodded. “I’m worried, Michael.”

    “I’m sure that’s perfectly normal. This is a chance of a lifetime, am I right?”

    “Yes but I’m worried about Wes.”

    “Doctor Frobisher?” Michael didn’t know much about Doctor Westren Jarett Frobisher. He knew that Matthew had met him at Cambridge and that they had become close friends. They had shared the same dream and decided to make it their life’s ambition to turn it into reality. He had met Frobisher a few days ago and he had gotten the impression that he was a highly intelligent man. Quiet but intelligent. He was a few years older than Matthew and seemingly uncomfortable around people he didn’t know. But he was a friend of his brother’s and that meant something to him.

    “What about him?” asked Michael. “Is he having second thoughts about this?”

    He shook his head. “No, not at all. He’s completely dedicated. Maybe a little bit too much so.”

    Owens gave him a quizzical look. “I’m not sure I understand.”

    “Did you know that he first came up with the idea of a dark anti-matter accelerator when he was in high school?”

    “I thought you came up with this together.”

    “We did. But he had laid out the groundwork long before we even met. He had been obsessed with the idea ever since. Over the last few years it’s been getting worse. He lives and breathes for this and I’m just worried that maybe …“ Matthew stopped himself.

    “Are you saying that he might not be up for this? If you need more time to –“

    Matthew cut him off. “That’s just it. We don’t have more time,” he said sternly. “This is the one and only chance we’ll ever get at this.”

    Owens turned away to look at Big Betty waiting for her moment to come. He let out a sigh. He knew that most of Starfleet had their eyes on this. Everybody wanted this to go through. In fact Captain Mendez had talked to him in private about this experiment just a day earlier. He had stressed how many resources the Federation had already put into supporting this project and how many high-ranking officials in the Council had shown personal interest into this matter. Michael Owens could sense that Mendez himself had probably been given a similar speech by his superiors.

    Owens turned to face his brother again. He spotted a look of uncertainty and doubt on his face. “We have to go ahead with this, you know that.”

    Matthew nodded his head ever so slightly. “I do.”

    “All right, worst case scenario?”

    “Dark anti-matter is incredibly powerful but also extremely unstable. If we make a mistake we could end up blowing ourselves up to pieces.”

    Owens nodded. He had anticipated something like that. Suddenly he could no longer deny the desire that somebody else had been chosen to supervise these proceedings.

    “And there is a small chance that we blow away Sentaka XII,” he added more quietly.

    Michael’s eyes opened wide. That he had not anticipated. Nobody had even hinted at a possible danger to the site to which Big Betty was supposed to beam the test subjects. A trip that would take a starship eight hours at high warp was supposed to take Big Betty just a few seconds.

    “Sentaka XII is populated.”

    “The chances of that happening are minimal.”

    Michael and Matthew had not noticed that Westren Frobisher had made his way to the dark anti-matter device. The slim man with an unruly hair cut and sharp facial features had taken up position at the main control console. He looked with dismay at the two brother’s conversation.

    “Gentlemen,” he shouted. “Time flies!”

    The Owens’ turned to look at Frobisher who was impatiently waiting by the accelerator.

    Michael took a deep breath. “I guess it’s show time.”

    Matt nodded. “There is one more thing you should know. Something that I observed during early test runs. It’s probably not important.”

    “Doctor, I need you over here now!” Frobisher shouted. “This is not an opportune moment for idle chitchat.”

    “Tell me later,” Michael said. “Go and make me proud.”

    Matt smiled and hurried over to Big Betty.

    “Good luck!”

    Frobisher looked up from his instruments. “Luck? Luck has nothing to do with it, Commander. Today you will be witness to destiny unfolding.”

    Michael could begin to sense why his brother had been concerned. Frobisher sounded nothing like when he had first met him. Gone were his reservations and inhibitions. He seemed completely alive now. But how could he not be? He and his brother were about to make history. All Michael could hope for was that there was enough room for a footnote making mention of the fearless Starfleet officer that stood by them at their moment of triumph.

    Matt took his place next to Frobisher. “We are forty-five minutes from the event threshold.”

    “Time to initiate dark matter/anti-matter reaction process,” Frobisher replied and went to work.

    Amaya Donners had by now also returned and together with Deen they took position at a secondary console that would allow them to monitor each process. Owens stepped behind the two women. From his position he had a good view on everything that was going on. He looked skyward.

    As far as he could see the sky was pulsating in bright green, yellow and blue lights. There were no sounds but the lightning above could have struck fear into the most courageous heart. It shot through the sky and towards the ground in circular motions, spiraling down towards them and leaving behind what looked like a whirlwind of light. The rate at which that occurred was increasing dramatically.

    And then the thunder began anew. Michael Owens cringed at the ear-splitting noise the sky unleashed. He could hardly hear his own thoughts, not to mention Frobisher and Matt’s procedural announcements.

    A lightning strike shot down towards their position and Michael jumped when he thought it was going to strike right on top of them. It didn’t. Instead it was deflected to one of the tall poles that had been erected all around the platform.

    Deen smiled when she noticed his discomfort. “The probability of being struck by lightning is smaller than us being hit by a meteor!”

    That didn’t help at all to put Michael at ease. He looked up again now also keeping an eye out for rocks falling out of the sky. Yet another thing to worry about.

    “The dark anti-matter process is within predicted parameters!” yelled Donners. “Thirty-five minutes to event threshold.”

    “The storm will soon reach an exact neutrino density which will be highly sensitive to quantum energy exposure and create a unique singularity. Something akin to a miniature black hole inside the atmosphere. The dark anti-matter will allow us to transport an energy beam through that singularity and the idea is that it will duplicate it on Sentaka XII!” Deen explained, shouting to make herself understood over the noise of the thunder above.

    Owens had heard this before but it certainly didn’t hurt to be reminded of what was about to happen. He had never quite liked the idea of opening a black hole inside the atmosphere of a planet. In fact a few weeks ago he surely would have called the attempt ludicrous.

    “Containment field at eighty-five percent!” shouted Matthew Owens from the main controls.

    Michael turned to the transporter dais. The red beam was now gaining intensity, creating a tight force field around the test subjects. If that was what it took to beam something from one world to another he could honestly not see how anyone would want to go through with it. As for him he would have preferred a good old starship anytime. But then he was certain that people had similar concerns when the regular transporters had been first introduced. And now it was just another essential part of everyday life, as regular and as safe as blasting through space at faster-than-light speeds.

    Tension ran high for the next few minutes. Doctor Frobisher and Matthew Owens announced all kinds of information that didn’t make much sense to him. And it wasn’t because he didn’t understand science. In fact he was convinced that he had a decent enough grasp of the basics of many of the natural sciences. But the things that were going on here just went completely over his head.

    Donners and Deen read out status reports that were slightly more comprehensible to him. All the energy outputs and power concentrations seemed to be within tolerable levels. Everything seemed to be going according to plan. All the while the storm around them gained in intensity, the lightning now striking the poles almost constantly now. The wind had build up as well making it difficult to stand without support. The blue beam emanating from the top of Big Betty was pulsating with feverish speed.

    And then something happened that Owens had not expected. He became dizzy. His vision suddenly began to blur. He looked at the others but they seemed to be fine, completely focused on the task at hand.

    Michael Owens took a few steps away from the large accelerator. He closed his eyes for a moment, hoping the sensation would pass. When he opened them again he found that the world in front of his eyes had changed. He no longer stood where had been just moments before. He stood further away from Big Betty and was certain that it now looked slightly different then it had only a moment ago. The differences however seemed too subtle for his mind to fully register them.

    Perplexed and still feeling dizzy he looked around. Donners and Deen still stood by the console but they were frozen in place by the containment beam.

    Frobisher was close to the transporter platform where he was having a heated debate with a tall Vulcan. The slim man had a weapon trained on the scientist.

    Owens couldn’t spot his brother until he looked towards his feet. He laid in the dirt, wounded badly, blood pouring out of his chest and mouth. He was trying to speak.

    “Michael,” he whispered.

    “What happen?” Owens managed to ask, still not over the shock and confusion of the changing world around him.

    “Michael!”

    He felt a hand on his shoulder and he whipped around.

    “Michael, are you alright?” asked Deen with concern in her eyes.

    He looked at her for a moment. It took him a second to realize that he was back where he was supposed to be. Everything was exactly the way it had been before.

    “You seemed like you were somewhere else for a moment,” she said. “Something wrong?”

    Michael Owens shook his head, trying to rid himself from the cobwebs in his brain. “I’m not sure.”

    “Orbital satellite fully powered and ready to transmit!” shouted Frobisher. “We are all go!”

    Owens forced himself to ignore what had happened and gave Deen a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. We can’t afford to miss this.”

    Reluctantly Deen let Owens lead her back to the console.

    “T minus five to event threshold!” shouted Donners. There was much more excitement in her voice now. She was anticipating this moment as much as the others.

    Michael could not shake the strange sensation he had had only moments before however. But as much as he tried he could simply not make sense of it. It was probably nothing, he decided. Perhaps the dark anti-matter radiation was messing with his mind, playing strange tricks on him.

    “Brace yourselves!” Frobisher’s voice was euphoric.

    Deen however frowned. “I’m detecting a point zero zero five increase in quantum neutrons in the atmosphere!” she looked at Owens with concern. “This is not supposed to happen!”

    Michael directed his glance at the two scientists. They had noticed the anomaly as well.

    “This is nothing!” Frobisher shouted loudly. “Compensating by increasing dark anti-matter flow to seven point eight percent.”

    Donners shook her head. “More anti-matter might cause instability within the singularity.”

    “I can compensate for that!” Frobisher shot back angrily.

    “Not if the quantum neutrons continue to increase. Point zero zero seven now.”

    Michael Owens didn’t like where this was going one bit. He understood enough to know that if the black hole would become unstable they might not be around long enough to the see the end of the experiment.

    “I’m changing the main modulation of the accelerator. That will lessen the effects of the quantum neutrons!” Frobisher declared and went to work zealously. Time was running out fast now.

    “Four minutes to event threshold!” Donners shouted.

    Michael locked eyes with his brother. He could see his concerns resurface. He began to slightly shake his head.

    Michael turned to Deen. “Changing modulation? Will that work?”

    Deen looked at her read-outs. She seemed uncertain what Frobisher was up to. “I’m not sure but it might. He certainly could control the increasing neutron levels this way.”

    “But?”

    It was Matthew Owens who answered his question. “Wes, we’ll risk an instability at the point of reemergence!”

    “No, not necessarily,” he replied without looking up from his instruments.

    “Sentaka XII?” Michael asked.

    “The black hole at the other end might implode,” Deen said. “I can’t even imagine the damage that might do.”

    “Two minutes to event threshold!” Donners announced with increasing stress in her voice.

    Michael Owens had heard enough. He stepped around the observation console and towards the lead scientists. “We need to shut it down!”

    “No!” Frobisher screamed. “No, this can work. I can make this work!”

    Matthew put a hand on his friends shoulder. “Wes, it’s not worth the risk. I’m sorry old friend.”

    Westren Frobisher shook off the hand and pushed Matthew away. “I won’t let you shut it down! Don’t you see? We can make this work. I know we can!”

    Matthew’s eyes grew big. He no longer recognized his friend. This man was completely taken over by his need for success.

    “Matt, shut it down!” yelled Owens from across the platform.

    Matthew nodded. “There is no other way,” he said and went to work.

    “Event threshold: T minus one minute!”

    Right above them in the sky a rift was beginning to open, tearing away at the very fabric of space.

    “I won’t let anybody stop us now. Not now,” Frobisher spat and stepped away from his partner.

    Matthew looked at him in surprise as he vanished from his view. He didn’t have time to wonder about him. He had to focus on stopping the proceedings that had been set in motion and if allowed to go ahead would destroy an entire population.

    “I’m shutting down the dark anti-matter flow now!”

    Frobisher reappeared by the main body of the accelerator. “Like hell you are!” He entered a command into an override console.

    Matthew looked up in shock. He raised one arm towards Frobisher. “Don’t do that!”

    It was too late. A power feedback shot through the console Matthew was standing at and a single powerful energy burst hit him square in the chest. The force of the impact gripped his body and catapulted him away from the console.

    “No!” Owens screamed and ran towards his brother.

    Matthew hit the ground and Michael was immediately on him. The front of his shirt was completely burned away. The rest of his clothes were quickly being soaked by the blood streaming out of the large wound on his chest. Michael raised his brother’s head gently from the ground. He was still hanging on. But blood was coming out of his nose and mouth.

    “Temporal anomaly,” he whispered barely audible among the thunderous noise coming from above.

    “Try not to talk,” Owens managed to say. “I’ll get you out of here.”

    Matthew slightly shook his head. He knew it was over for him. He coughed out some more blood, trying to find the strength for a few more words. They never came. The life had left his body, only an empty and broken shell remained.

    Michael Owens’ hands trembled when he checked for his pulse. He could not find it. His eyes were empty, his heart had stopped beating.

    It took just a few seconds for his emotions to make a dramatic shift from despair to blinding rage. He stood up and spotted Frobisher working on an auxiliary console. Filled by just one thought he did not hear Deen and Donners shouting at him. He charged Frobisher who turned around just in time to see Owens jump him. They both collapsed to the ground and Owens began to mercilessly pound his face until his nose cracked and blood was covering his fist. It was only then that he heard the voices.

    “Event threshold imminent!”

    “Shut down the accelerator!”

    Owens stumbled to his feet. Deen and Donners were racing across the platform but judging from their expressions they would not reach the controls in time. Owens on the other hand was just a few feet from the machine that was about to unleash all sorts of doom and despair on a planet light years away. Overhead the emitter was loudly swirling to life, the blue beam steadily getting stronger.

    Owens stepped to the computer console Frobisher had been working on but he knew he didn’t have the time to find the right controls. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a number of conduits connecting Big Betty with additional generators. He didn’t waste any time. He stepped up to the machine and began ripping out one conduit after another. He screamed as pain shot through his hands but he didn’t stop. By the time he had removed the last conduit he couldn’t feel his hands any longer. Exhausted he slumped to the ground with his back against the accelerator. He looked up. Above him the blue beam had disappeared and the dark rift was beginning to close again. He could feel the machine behind him powering down.

    When Deen and Donners reached Owens they were out of breath. They turned to him. But his own eyes were now resting on Frobisher’s beaten and bleeding body. The scientist’s chest was rising and falling as he desperately fought for each breath. Michael’s glance wandered to where his brother lay completely motionless in the dirt.

    The storm had quickly vanished and rays of green sunlight were making their way through the dissipating clouds. Owens closed his eyes as he felt tears running down his cheeks.


    --------------------------------------
    Next: Chapter Two - Today's Merits
     
    Galen4 likes this.
  9. Dulak

    Dulak Commander Red Shirt

    Joined:
    Jul 6, 2007
    Location:
    Pacific NW
    Now I am even more glad that you re-posted this. It is a great story so far, and I was actually dissapointed that the whole story wasn't posted to read.

    Scientists always seem to find a way to get into trouble...
     
  10. TheLoneRedshirt

    TheLoneRedshirt Commodore Commodore

    Joined:
    May 22, 2007
    Location:
    Here and now.
    Wow! Talk about an experiment going horribly wrong! :eek:

    Dr. Frobisher definitely went off the deep end, killing Matthew. It looks like Michael saved the day, but appearances can be deceiving.

    Please hurry with the next segment!

    :thumbsup:
     
  11. CeJay

    CeJay Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Feb 5, 2006
    CHAPTER TWO – TODAY’S MERITS


    More than fifty men and women stood quietly on the dim deck, their glances fixed at a bright display on the far wall. They were spread out over two levels and all of them were impatiently watching the same thing, each and every one of them wearing their best dresses and suits for the occasion. Behind them, through the large windows a beautiful blue and red nebula was visible in space. And yet all their backs were turned to it. For the moment at least their interest was completely focused on the display that showed just one number.

    49669.9.

    On the upper level one man stood slightly apart from all the others. Standing by the railing, gave him a good view of the level below and the many expecting faces. He wore a smile on his face, knowing well what was about to happen. He shot a quick glance to the champagne glass he held in his right hand. It was full.

    There was palpable tension in the large lounge now as everyone held their breath for just one more second. And then it happened.

    The display changed slightly, the digits shifting to display 49670.0. The number began to flash in a red glow. The lights lit up and colorful confetti was released from the ceiling and began raining down on the crowd below. But all that was nothing to the loud cheers and shouts coming from the excited masses.

    Michael Owens took a small step forward so that he stood right by the railing. He rose his glass to his crew. “To Eagle’s first year and too many more to come!” he shouted.

    Everybody turned to him and cheered. They rose their glasses towards their captain and then to each other. For just a moment the noise level dropped to nearly zero as everybody took a sip from their drink.

    Owens watched as his crew began to mingle among each other, heading for the bar below and enjoying the moment. They deserved it, he knew. They had performed admiringly over the last year. Most of the crewmembers who had joined him in Eagle’s main lounge - commonly referred to as The Nest - had been with him on the ship since day one. He recognized nearly all of them, something he had promised himself he would do. Get to know your crew. He felt he had succeeded.

    USS Eagle was a heavy cruiser with a crew of six-hundred thirty Starfleet officers and noncoms and another one-hundred fifty civilians. He might have known their faces but it was impossible to know all their names.

    The Nest, with its two levels was a large space but not nearly big enough to hold the entire crew. Instead celebrations were held at numerous different spots on the ship at the same time. This way everybody could celebrate their accomplishments together. This little anniversary celebration was by no means a standard Starfleet procedure. In fact Owens had only encountered it on one other vessel. His late mentor and commanding officer had introduced the annual event on the Columbia and Owens had noticed how well the crew had responded to it. The decision to bring this tradition to Eagle, to his new ship, had been an easy one.

    “Congratulations, Michael.”

    Owens turned around to see Lieutenant DeMara Deen approaching. She looked even more stunning than usual in the long and sleeveless green dress made out of numerous individual ribbons, tightly wrapped around her slender figure. She showed plenty of her flawless copper skin and her golden hair seemed even more vibrant on this day. Only her combadge, attached to the dress, identified her as a crewmember.

    She rose her glass towards him and Owens duplicated the gesture.

    “I’ve lost quite a large bet thanks to you,” she said with a wide smile on her face.

    He looked at her quizzically.

    “I never thought you would last a whole year.”

    Owens smiled. “Your lack of trust in my capabilities was the source of my strength, I believe.”

    She nodded and joined him by the railing, looking down at the lower level with him now. “You did a fantastic job, Michael. You might not realize it yet but you are a natural leader.”

    Owens was slightly surprised by her sudden candor. She knew him better than anyone else on Eagle. She was well aware of the moments of insecurities he had had during the last year. They had never interfered with his work but they had been enough to make him question if he really deserved to be here.

    As he looked at the crowd below he spotted a few admiring glances coming his way. Even though he couldn’t be completely sure if they weren’t meant for the stunningly attractive woman at his side.

    “They love you. I don’t think a captain could ask for anything more,” she said with a soft tone in her voice.

    Owens nodded. “I don’t.”


    *************************************************************************************


    Lieutenant Commander So’Dan Leva was not entirely comfortable in the large crowd. Of course he was as excited about the completion of their first year on Eagle as the crewmembers all around him but he chose not to put it on display like the rest of them.

    His right hand moved to the top of his head to remove some of the confetti that was sitting on his short black hair. His fingers subconsciously slipped to the side of his head to brush the tip of his pointed ear. He caught himself before anybody noticed and quickly withdrew his hand. He had never liked his ears. They were a gift from his mother’s side and a constant reminder that half the blood in his veins was Romulan. Leva’s anxieties about being in a crowd were nothing compared to his feelings of being the only one of his kind serving in the fleet. No, that wasn’t really the problem. The problem was that he was a hybrid of two races that had never gotten along. How was he supposed to get along with himself?

    At the other side of the Nest another man with similar shaped ears towered over the people around him. But he was a Vulcan. Pure and in all manners of the word. Leva turned to look away, deciding to observe the distant nebula instead. Vulcans did not make him feel any better about himself. In fact they only made things worse.

    A sudden and hard clap against his back almost made him spill his drink.

    “One year and counting. Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

    So’Dan Leva turned to see a Bajoran woman who had crept up on him from behind. She wore a fairly conservative pants outfit and had a wide smile on her face. Nora Laas was an attractive looking woman with strawberry blonde hair which she kept relatively short with a few bangs hanging down her forehead, framing her hazel colored eyes. However the thirty-year old woman had never put much emphasis on her physical appearance and Leva could understand why. She was a fighter and she had been since early childhood when she battled against the Cardassian who had occupied her home world. For a very long time all she had known was war and war certainly didn’t care how you looked. She was full of energy however and had been ever since they had met a few years before coming on Eagle. They had quickly become close friends, quietly sharing their mutual pain of their disturbed backgrounds. Leva had taken notice that she did not put on the traditional earring that many Bajorans wore for spiritual reasons. Nora Laas had left her religion behind a long time ago.

    Her hazel eyes sparkled at Leva. “If this isn’t a reason to celebrate.”

    The half-Romulan shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve had other posting that lasted longer than a year. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.”

    Nora’s mood was not dampened however. She sat down on one of the comfortable seats around her and liberally put up her legs. “You never celebrated it before though, did you? I admit at first I thought it was an overly sentimental notion but now,” she looked around the room. “I think I really like it,” she said when her glance returned to Leva.

    The half-Romulan officer sat down next to her. “I assume it has certain benefits for ship morale.”

    Nora laughed out loud to the surprise of her friend. “Now you sound like Xylion.”

    Leva frowned. He didn’t much care for being compared to the Vulcan science officer.

    The Bajoran’s expression sobered up. She could sense something was bothering him. Of course that wasn’t all that difficult considering how happy everybody around him seemed to be. She leaned in towards him. “What’s eating you, So’?”

    Leva threw her a surprised look. “What do you mean?”

    She rolled her eyes. “Come on, will you? I know you’re not a big fan of parties but you’re practically pouting.”

    “I am not pouting,” he replied sharply.

    “Alright, what is it then?”

    Nora gave him some time when he didn’t answer right away. His glance wandered back out of the windows in front of them.

    “Nothing more than the usual. The main phaser array needs a complete overhaul, there are new tactical procedures that have to be implemented and we have a new tactical officer I need to train who of all races had to be Vulcan of course.”

    “Hmm”, was Nora’s only reply.

    “And I received a letter from my mother this morning telling me that she might leave the embassy on Earth to return to Romulus.”

    “Ah-ha,” said Nora. “It’s your mother that has you worried.”

    “Worried? Who said I was worried? If she wants to go back to Romulus it’s her choice. No matter that she had an illegitimate child. With a human. Or that he now serves in Starfleet. No, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to welcome her back in the fold.”

    Nora went quiet. Leva had achieved what she had hoped he wouldn’t. Her mood was beginning to deteriorate.

    Leva noticed. “But that’s quite alright,” he said quickly. “She’s a grown woman and I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.”

    Nora nodded thoughtfully.

    “Commander Leva?”

    The Romulan looked up to spot somebody he had wished to avoid. The tall Vulcan science officer had stepped next to his seat and was now looking down at him. He also held a glass of champagne in his hand and the confetti all over his black suit and hair gave him the comical appearance of a sad clown.

    Nora cracked a smile but the humor was lost on Leva at that moment.

    “I was hoping to confer with you concerning the plans to design the new long-range probe I mentioned to you earlier,” he said with a straight face and a monotone voice. He of course noticed Nora Laas’ amusement but decided to ignore it.

    At seventy-eight Xylion was still a relatively young Vulcan male. But he continued to have difficulties understanding more emotional species. In fact he had been so irritated by them that after graduating from the Academy he had quickly accepted a posting on his home world and had spent most of his professional life dedicated to science and living amongst his own kin. Sometimes he found himself regretting the choices he had made. It would have made things much easier for him now if had shown greater patience with emotional beings when he had been younger. But then he had completed some exceptional work that had given him much satisfaction over the years.

    Leva turned back to looking at the nebula. He desperately didn’t want to converse with Xylion at the moment. Wasn’t it enough that he had to train a new Vulcan tactical officer? It wasn’t necessarily that he disliked all Vulcans. But he had made some bad experiences in the past. During his Academy years most students and faculty members had simply assumed that he himself was Vulcan and that had frustrated him to no end.

    “Not now,” he finally said without looking back up at Xylion.

    The science officer gave him a curt nod and then disappeared again in the crowd.

    Nora frowned at her friend. “You could have handled that better.”

    Leva turned to look at the leaving Vulcan and then at Nora. “He doesn’t care. He has no emotions, remember?”

    Nora stood up appalled by his statement. “He is not a machine, So’. Since when has treating somebody with respect become depended on their race?”

    She spotted somebody in the crowd who immediately lifted her spirits once more. Eagle’s first officer, Commander Eugene Edison had stepped into her line of sight. He stood by the bar at the other side of the room, conversing with a few crewmembers. When he noticed her eyes upon him he turned to face her and smiled.

    Nora didn’t realize nor would she have been able to explain it if she had known but she blushed slightly. Nobody had to tell her however that Edison was a handsome man. His facial features were soft and yet radiated strength and confidence. He had a tall, athletic body that looked even better in the civilian clothes he now wore. His waved blonde hair looked like satin and his smile had the unique quality of letting everybody around him know that he deeply cared.

    “I will not stay here and get dragged down by your bad attitude. Excuse me,” said Nora and crossed the room to approach the first officer.

    She was right, thought Leva and wondered if it was too late to find Xylion and talk to him about that probe. But in the end he couldn’t bring himself to face him again. He decided to call it an early night and left the Nest.

    ********************
     
  12. Dulak

    Dulak Commander Red Shirt

    Joined:
    Jul 6, 2007
    Location:
    Pacific NW
    hmm moody start for Leva, really contrasts well with the celebration and otherwise jovial mood. Really made me wonder what's up with him..
     
  13. CeJay

    CeJay Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Feb 5, 2006
    His full name was Liftu-Tensu-Lestu Culsten. On Krellon were he was from he would have never actually used his family name however, it was not a custom. But since joining Starfleet the young man had decided to make some changes. He was known amongst his friends and colleagues as Lif Culsten. And he had plenty of friends on Eagle. There weren’t many other Krellonians in Starfleet. The Krellian Star Alliance was not even a member of the United Federation of Planets. But that didn’t stop Lif from making friends easily wherever he went.

    The helmsman was sitting by a table on the upper level of the Nest surrounded by some of his friends. But his concentration was focused on the cup of vanilla-flavored ice cream in front of him as he carefully picked up the small pieces of colorful confetti that had sprinkled all over it. A female ensign, sitting to his right, had laughingly assured him that they were not toxic at all and he could easily consume them with the ice cream. But that had not deterred Culsten. He was determined that those little unwanted dots of color would only spoil this great new food that he had discovered only very recently.

    His friends decided to leave for one of the holodecks which would be running a brand new recreational program but Culsten decided to finish the frozen desert first and join them later. Just a few seconds after they had left somebody else decided to join him. He looked up to see Doctor Ashley Wenera now sitting in the chair opposite his. Her chin-length, slightly curled black hair gave her an exotic look. She gave the younger man a warm smile.

    “You know you can eat those, right?”

    Culsten frowned. “I’ve been told.”

    Wenera nodded and continued to watch his efforts with amusement. Ashley Wenera liked the young helmsman immensely. He was a cheerful person and had the talent to make people laugh. As the ship’s chief medical officer she realized that humor was very effective medicine and one she wished she could prescribe. She also had an interest in Culsten from a professional standpoint. She had never before encountered a Krellonian and meeting new species was the reason why she had wanted to be a starship physician. She always marveled at his earless head and his skin’s ability to pick up sound waves, making ears unnecessary. She wondered what else the membranes of his epidermis were capable of and she made a mental note to find out eventually. His skin had a dark bronze color but what really fascinated her were his silver colored eyes which were a perfect match to his long platinum hair that was put into a small pony-tail at the back of his head.

    “I think I have not yet congratulated you on your recent promotion,” the doctor said, remembering that the junior lieutenant had been made primary flight controller just a few days earlier.

    Culsten finally fished the last piece of confetti out of his dessert. He looked at it for a moment with utter satisfaction and then rose his head to see Wenera smirking. “Thank you, doc,” he said, took the spoon and began eating. The delay of the pleasure had been well worth it, he quickly decided.

    “I’m working on an experiment involving very fragile Denobulan turtle eggs and I would really appreciate it if you could steer the ship clear of any plasma storms or other disruptive regions of space for a while.”

    “You don’t like the shaking and heaving, do you?” he replied with a smile.

    “It makes me sick.”

    “You’re the doctor, you should have something to take care of that,” replied Culsten and guided another spoon of ice cream to his mouth.

    “Funny. Are you anticipating any of that in the near future?”

    When Culsten looked up again his face looked a lot more serious. His silver eyes had lost some of their spark. “I’m afraid not,” he said with sigh.

    The doctor narrowed her eyes. She liked his answer but not his demeanor. “You actually want Eagle to get into trouble?”

    Culsten quickly shook his head, feeling guilty all of a sudden. “No, of course not. It’s just that nothing has happened for a while. I mean nothing out of the ordinary.”

    “And that is bad?”

    “Look at it this way. How am I ever going to make captain if I cannot show off my abilities? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ungrateful but I don’t want to be stuck as a helmsman for the rest of my life.”

    Wenera had heard of his abilities and clearly he was not shy about them. Apparently Krellonians had superior reflexes thanks to a more elaborate central nervous system. She added that to her list of future study topics.

    “Lif, I have absolutely no doubt that you will make a fine captain someday,” she said with a smile. “As for the excitement, I’ll let you know when my turtles hatch. Watching those little critters feast is a sight you won’t soon forget. “

    Culsten looked at her smile, trying to figure out if she was being serious.

    The doctor gave him a wink and left the table.


    ************************
     
  14. CeJay

    CeJay Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Feb 5, 2006
    After the festivities Captain Eduardo Mendez would reconvene with his senior officers for a more intimate dinner. It was another tradition Owens had decided to bring to Eagle. It was the least he could do to keep his mentor’s legacy alive. He had been lost too soon when he was tragically killed on the bridge of the Columbia two years earlier. Owens himself had been on an away mission at the time and even though he sometimes considered what could have happened differently if he had been on the bridge, his friends reminded him that it was only due to his efforts that Columbia and a number of other ships had not been completely destroyed. Starfleet had awarded him with a medal and given him temporary command of the Columbia. But he would’ve gladly given it all back for a chance to save Mendez.

    Now he was sitting in Eagle’s briefing room on deck two. The long conference table was set for an extensive dinner. The occasion had called for the use of the best china available on the ship. The elegant white and gold plates were decorated with the Federation emblem and the cutlery was made out of pure silver. The glasses were shiny and spotless and a number of bottles of the finest wines from all over the galaxy were ready for Eagle’s senior officers to enjoy. Contrary to standard practice all the beverages were the real thing, containing actual alcohol. Owens could only hope that all his officers would show due restraint when consuming it.

    His entire senior staff was present and patiently waiting for the food to arrive. They were casually talking to each other and carefully probing the different choices of beverages. To Owens’ immediate left sat DeMara Deen, his close friend and operations manager. She had become a fine officer since he had begun her training on Tenaria many years ago. He couldn’t help but feel pride of what she had accomplished and liked to think that he had just a little to do with it.

    Opposite her on his right, sat his first officer, Commander Eugene Edison. The bright British man had turned out to be quite the find. Not only had he shown great command awareness, he had also turned out to be a close friend and confidant. Owens was relieved to have him at his side. They shared a few common interests; both of them for example had been captains of the swim team back at the Academy.

    Xylion occupied the seat next to him. Owens had chosen the veteran Vulcan officer to head the ship’s science department after Starfleet had denied his initial request to have Deen fill that position. But things had worked out pretty well nevertheless. Lieutenant Commander Xylion was the most competent man Owens had ever met. He was also more Vulcan than many others of his species he had known over the years and that had made things a little bit more complicated at times. But Owens had no doubt that he would learn to fit in eventually. His dedication to his work could not be questioned and he had already shown a strong willingness to work with the rest of the crew. He wanted to be here and that was very important to Owens.

    Chief tactical officer Lieutenant Commander Leva sat in the chair next to Deen. Recruiting the half-Romulan had been an easy decision. His tactical accomplishments spoke for themselves. Owens liked Leva but he was also aware that he had numerous personal issues that he had not yet come to terms with. He had shown some difficulties working with Xylion but all in all Leva was a confident and reliable officer.

    He sat next to his best friend Lieutenant Nora, chief of security. Most ships in the fleet had a single officer to deal with both with tactical and security. Owens had decided to follow Mendez’s approach however and to have two individuals for the two jobs. This way he could be sure that he had an experienced tactical officer on the bridge even when the security officer would accompany an away team. So far the arrangement had worked splendidly.

    Chief engineer Louise Hopkins, sitting across from Nora, had been the only part of his senior staff over whom he’d had some reservations at first. She and Nora had been at the Academy together and it had been the Bajoran’s passionate testimonies of her skills that had finally won him over. The sandy blonde engineer was young, shy and at first glance not the person somebody would entrust with the most sensitive parts of a starship. When she had come aboard she had been twenty-seven years old and had become one of the youngest chief engineers in Starfleet history. But Owens had seen her work in her element. She was nothing short of a genius when she was around the warp core. Her uneasiness simply fell off her shoulders and she became a different person. Owens had no more doubts that she was the best person for the job.

    The last two seats on either side of the table were occupied by the ship’s doctor, Ashley Wenera and for the first time since he had come aboard, helmsman Lieutenant Junior Grade Lif Culsten had been invited to join the senior officers in the observation lounge.

    Wenera was a talented physician there was little doubt about that. She had never served on a starship before coming on Eagle but she had made the transition look easy. She had a genuine curiosity about everything alien and a tendency to question anything. An inclination that turned out to be either extremely helpful or just plain annoying.

    As for Culsten, he was a person full of surprises and full of energy. Owens sometimes thought of him as Deen’s male counterpart. He was well liked by everybody but differently to his friend sometimes he did not know when to be quiet.

    Owens looked at all his officers and smiled at each one of them. Except for the Vulcan his crew was exceptionally young. He had worried about that fact when he had assembled it a year ago. But he had been pleasantly surprised. What they lacked in experience they made up in their passion and dedication as well as loyalty.

    Michael Owens rose his glass. “Before we begin I just want to say how lucky, no, how honored I consider myself to have served with you all for the last year. I think I can safely say that I consider you to be the best crew I ever had the pleasure to work with.”

    Edison took his own glass. “Sir, I think I speak for all of us if I say that it has been our pleasure to serve you,” he said.

    Owens nodded with appreciation. Eugene Edison was not only one of the most honest people he had ever encountered he also had the confidence and buoyancy to make people feel his sincerity.

    “Hear, hear,” seconded Deen and rose her glass. The rest of the officers followed suit, showing their admiration for their commanding officer.

    After everyone had their sip of their chosen beverage Owens spoke again. “To show my own appreciation for all of you I have asked some very talented cooks which I wasn’t even aware we had on board, to prepare us a real meal. I hope you will find it to your satisfaction,” Owens said with a smile and pressed a panel imbedded in the table.

    The doors on each side of the observation lounge opened up and crewmembers dressed in shiny white uniforms wheeled in four covered food carts.
    The officers turned their attention towards the procession with anticipation. The waiters dramatically lifted the covers and the smell of freshly cooked food quickly filled the room. On the trays were steaks, a roasted turkey, a few lobsters as well as more exotic and alien looking foods.

    Owens noticed a few faces lighten up. This was no ordinary treat. Food served on Starfleet vessels was usually replicated and Owens had to call in on quite a few favors to be able to surprise his officers with this meal.

    “Everything you see here is real food that has been prepared and cooked manually,” said Owens while the waiters moved the dishes onto the conference table.

    Doctor Wenera looked skeptically at the turkey. “You’re saying this is real meat? Those were real animals once?”

    Owens nodded. “I’m afraid some sacrifices had to be made,” he said and smirked. “But don’t worry there are plenty of vegetarian dishes here also. None replicated.” He looked at Xylion and Deen of whom he knew would not want to eat real meat.

    They nodded approvingly.

    “There should also be some hasperat soufflé for you, Laas. And anybody else who would like to try it. As well as some Vulcan mollusks - I hear they are delicious - and also plain plomeek soup.”

    “That is very considerate of you, Captain,” the Vulcan said and began to search the table for the mollusks.

    Nora was also excited. “I haven’t had proper hasperat in I don’t know how long,” she proclaimed with a wide smile on her face.

    Captain Owens leaned back and enjoyed the view of his officers greedily digging into the fresh food. He had done alright by them and he was happy to be able to pay them back for all the hard work they had done over the last year, keeping his ship going. Like any good host he turned to eat only after he had made sure that everybody was satisfied.

    The first officer happily munched on a piece of turkey. Once he had swallowed he picked up another piece with his fork. “This tastes fantastic,” he spotted Deen shaking her head. “You should really try this.”

    The young woman looked at the meat on his fork with disgust. “That used to be alive.”

    Edison smiled. “It died for a noble cause,” he said and put it into his mouth.

    Owens and a few others laughed.

    Deen shrugged and to everybody’s surprise she cut herself a little piece of turkey. She had some difficulty at first using the knife to cut through the meat, probably repulsed at the idea initially.

    Owens looked on with wide eyes when she placed the small piece of meat on her plate. Tenarians had been vegetarians for millennia. He had never witnessed a Tenarian eat any kind of meat over the three years he had lived amongst them.

    Deen froze as she spotted the many eyes resting upon her. “A little piece won’t kill me,” she said with a smile. “I hope.”

    Edison turned to Wenera. “Doctor, you better get your medkit ready.”

    Deen gave him a smug smile and then took a bite. Everybody seemed to have stopped what they were doing while watching Deen slowly chew her food. She swallowed and looked at the others. “It doesn’t taste half bad.”

    Owens and Edison laughed.

    “Ensign Stiller to Captain Owens.”

    “Go ahead, Ensign,” he said still smiling.

    “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner but we are receiving a priority one message from Starfleet Command. It is addressed directly to you, sir.”

    Owens nodded as if Stiller could somehow see him. “Understood, Ensign. I take it in my ready room. Owens out.”

    Edison immediately put down his utensils but Owens motioned for him not to. “No please everybody continue your meal. I’m sure I’ll be back in just a minute,” he said, took a napkin to wipe his mouth and stood up.

    “You better,” said Culsten. “The way Commander Leva is eating there won’t be anything left by the time you get back.”

    Leva froze suddenly aware that he was slinging down his food much faster and had much more on his plate than anybody else.

    Owens smiled and then quickly left the room.

    ******************
     
  15. CeJay

    CeJay Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Feb 5, 2006
    The day had put Michael Owens into a good mood which he continued to spread among his crew when he crossed the bridge to get to his ready room. He promised Ensign Lance Stiller and the other bridge officers that there would be plenty of food left and waiting for them after their shift.

    He entered into his office, walked past the large water-colored painting of his family’s estate in Wisconsin and sat down in his chair. He turned towards the computer screen and was still smiling when he activated the desktop computer to receive the message.

    His smile dropped from his face instantly. On the screen the face of an elderly man appeared. He wore an admiral’s uniform and he possessed the distinctive chin of an Owens. For the first time in many years he found himself face to face with his father: Admiral Jonathan Taylor Owens. His good mood had evaporated.

    “It’s good to see you again, son. How have you been?” Jonathan Owens asked, his deep voice commanding respect. His features were stern and serious at first but a smile crept onto his lips before he spoke. “I hope I haven’t interrupted your well deserved R&R?”

    Michael realized that he was referring to his civilian outfit. He shook his head. “Just an informal dinner,” he replied. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

    “We haven’t spoken in a while, son. Doesn’t a father deserve to speak to his son from time to time to see how he’s doing,” he asked with a grin.

    “Please dad, we both know that’s not why you called. What’s really on your mind?”

    Jonathan Owens’ expressions sharpened. He realized that there was no fooling his own son. He had raised him to well for that. At least that was what he liked to believe. “Very well, let’s forgo the pleasantries for now. We’ll have time for that later anyhow.”

    Owens didn’t like where his father was going. He silently prayed that he was wrong.

    “I have an urgent mission and I need your help. Yours and your ship.”

    Michael didn’t reply.

    “I’m currently on Vulcan. A diplomatic delegation is waiting here for you to pick up. I will join them and you will take us to the planet Farga in the Sigma Hydra sector where they will enter in negotiations with the Fargan government to discuss supplying them with corradinexyn, a medical vaccine.”

    His prayers had not been answered. Only a small part of his father’s explanation had really registered with him and it continued to linger in his mind. “You’re coming aboard?”

    The admiral nodded. “Perhaps we will be able to catch up then,” he said, forcing another smile onto his lips.

    Eagle’s captain stiffened in his chair. His father was coming aboard his ship. The person who was possibly the only reason why it was his ship to begin with. It was a possibility he did not want to face. It didn’t matter if it was true or not, all he wanted was to continue his life without ever having to think about it. Now that chance was gone.

    If Jonathan Owens was aware of his son’s feelings he decided to remain quiet about them. But it wasn’t difficult to sense the unspoken tension between them. He had expected it of course but somehow hoped that his son would have been glad to welcome his own father after the long time they had gone without seeing each other. He knew it would have been a pleasant fiction.

    “I expect you to be here no later than stardate 49673,” he said when he realized that Michael was not going to say anything.

    “Sigma Hydra?” Captain Owens said suddenly once he had considered everything he had heard. “That’s pretty close to the Klingon and Romulan borders.”

    “Correct.”

    It was only now that Michael Owens realized the oddity of his father’s request. Not only had he never asked him for anything similar before it was also inconsistent with Starfleet protocols. Admiral Owens was with no doubt a very influential and high ranking figure within Starfleet Command. Michael did not know what his function was exactly, but he knew that fleet operations were not part of it. Especially not involving his ship.

    “Does this mission have Starfleet sanction?” he asked, ignoring the possibility of offending his father. “I’m not just going to hand you over my ship on a silver platter for you to do with what you wish.”

    Jonathan Owens did show any sign of offense by the insinuation. “You won’t have to worry about Command. This mission is cleared at the highest level. As for your ship, all I need is an escort. I wouldn’t dream of taking away your command.”

    Owens still didn’t like it but what else could he do? Of course he could have put in a formal protest with his superiors but he doubted that it would have done much good. His father seemed determined and this mission seemed to be important to him. Why else would he have contacted him of all people?

    “I’ll be there.”

    The admiral smiled. “Good. I’m looking forward to seeing you in person again. Owens out.”

    His father’s face disappeared from the screen.

    Michael Owens remained sitting in his chair, staring at the now blank screen on his desk. What was his father up to? Why had he asked him personally and not gone through official channels but most importantly, was he going to be able to look him in his face after everything he had done? He wished there was a way to avoid answering all these questions. But he knew that there wasn’t. This had to happen, his father had decided. Perhaps there was a chance, a slight chance that he had changed and that he was finally ready to accept responsibility for his actions. For the things he had done to him and his family. It seemed unlikely. But in any case he would find out soon enough.

    He took a deep breath and stood up from his desk. He realized that his senior officers were expecting him in the observation lounge. But somehow his appetite was gone. He decided to return to his quarters to be alone with his increasingly unpleasant thoughts.


    ---------------------------------
    Next: Chapter Three - In The Family
     
  16. Dulak

    Dulak Commander Red Shirt

    Joined:
    Jul 6, 2007
    Location:
    Pacific NW
    Wow, there goes the party mood...I wonder how much any of the other officers will even think about the whole Admiral/Father thing..
     
  17. CeJay

    CeJay Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Feb 5, 2006
    CHAPTER THREE – IN THE FAMILY


    It all seemed pretty straight forward. Eagle was to travel to Vulcan and to shuttle a delegation to the planet Farga in order to negotiate the release of a much required vaccine for the Fargans. But something didn’t feel right about this mission and Wenera couldn’t quite place it.

    She was walking back from a very short briefing which the first officer had held for the senior staff. The captain himself had not been present and the doctor wondered why. She hadn’t seen him since he had left the dinner the night before.

    Perhaps something didn’t agree with him? I should check on him later and make sure he is alright, she thought.

    Ashley Wenera entered sickbay and found it mostly empty. The only patient was a Tellarite lieutenant and Nurse Leela Adams was just finishing up with him, giving him a hypo injection for the road. The Tellarite nodded thankfully and made his way towards the exit leaving Adams to clean up the equipment.

    The doctor approached the nurse. “Is Lieutenant Goul still having those headaches?”

    Adams turned around, surprised to find Wenera standing behind her. She nodded. “It’s getting better. I told him to take it easy with parrises squares for the time being. Seems he gets them every time he plays it,” she said and looked at the door through which the lieutenant had passed through moments earlier. “I don’t think he’s going to listen.” Adams shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the doctor. “So are we going to be needed on Farga, you think?

    Wenera gave her a look of astonishment. “How do you know where we’re going? I returned from the briefing just now.”

    Leela smiled; proud of the information network she had in place on Eagle. “Goul is friends with Ensign O'Houlihan who works down in engineering and is an assistant of deputy chief Fernuc.”

    “And he was told by Hopkins.”

    Leela shook her head. “Fernuc went to the Academy with Ensign Stiller who happens to be close friends with Lif Culsten.”

    Ashley Wenera found herself perplexed at how fast information traveled on the ship. While she had made her way from the briefing room to sickbay the details of their new mission had already spread like a bush fire throughout the ship. Granted she had walked with no hurry, having plenty on her mind to consider, but the speed at which rumor traveled on Eagle was dazzling.

    “I hear there is some sort of unstable vaccine involved. Do we have to make any preparation for transporting it? We should at least have a look at it.”

    Wenera shook her head. “There was no mention of that in the briefing. But you are right we should get a look at it. Corradinexyn is very unstable and –“

    That’s it, thought Wenera suddenly interrupting any other train of thought in her head. It is very unstable and it has to be stored at extremely low temperatures in order to maintain its remedial effects. Why had the first officer not mentioned any of that?

    In fact Edison had not been very detailed at all. He had explained that those were all the facts he had and Wenera had believed him. There hadn’t been any reason to question Commander Edison’s honesty. But it seemed all very vague now. She was sure that she had not heard of any medical emergencies on the planet Farga in recent months and Wenera had a habit of keeping herself informed in such matters. She had worked at Starfleet Medical’s emergency relief agency for a few years and was well aware of the procedures. This mission did not follow any she was familiar with.

    Leela looked at her expectantly, wondering why the doctor had stopped herself.

    But Wenera was too deep in her own thoughts to notice. She turned away without speaking another word and headed straight for her office. She passed a large fish tank, containing a number of fist sized red eggs and sat down in her chair behind her desk. She knew that there was one person who would surely be able to answer her questions. She turned to her computer screen and entered an address code into the console.

    Wenera smiled when the face of her good friend and mentor Doctor Elijah Katanga appeared on the screen. He noticeably lightened up as well when realizing that he was facing one of his favorite students.

    Katanga was a near legend among Starfleet physicians. At sixty-three he was one of the most decorated doctors in Starfleet history with a track record which could easily span two lifetimes. For the last few years he had worked at Starfleet Medical headquarters on Earth where he had become Ashley Wenera’s mentor as well as a friend. His skin was almost as dark as the night sky and it stood in sharp contrast to his white beard and grey hair. His sharp green eyes mirrored the extensive wisdom he had acquired throughout the years.

    “Jane,” he said with a wide smile. Katanga had always referred to Wenera by her middle name. “What a pleasant surprise. How are you?”

    “I cannot complain, Elijah. I trust you are doing fine.”

    “I’ve been trying to keep things from falling apart since you left,” he said. “Most of these young doctors nowadays wouldn’t know the difference between the Pederian Plague and a common cold.”

    “I remember one of those young doctors,” Wenera replied, still wearing her smile. “Hopelessly naïve and green behind the ears but you taught her everything she needed to know and much more.”

    Katanga nodded. “Yes and against all odds she turned out quite alright, didn’t she? But I’m getting too old to teach these new kids. All they want nowadays is a quick fix and a shot at glory.”

    “Too old? With your healing skills you are going to outlive us all.”

    “Not if these young fools have anything to say about that,” he said. “How can I help you, Jane?”

    Wenera remembered how Katanga always seemed to know when something bothered her. He had a sixth sense that came in very useful when treating patients, both physically as well as psychologically.

    “I was wondering if you knew something about a medical emergency on a planet called Farga in the Sigma Hydra sector.”

    Katanga turned away to look at a console off screen. “Farga,” he muttered. “Sounds familiar.”

    Eagle’s chief medical officer waited patiently as Katanga seemed to look into his files.

    “Yes, here it is,” he said and turned back to face Wenera. “They reported a class two epidemic about six months ago. We dispatched a few medical advisors but the situation was resolved.”

    “Are you sure it was resolved?”

    Katanga nodded. “Quite. A handful of small towns on their western continent suffered from a then unknown condition. It turned out to be a waterborne virus created by an industrial accident. Once that was established a proper vaccine was quickly formulated and administered.”

    “And there have been no reports about other outbreaks perhaps one that would require large amounts of corradinexyn?”

    The older doctor frowned. “Jane, please tell me I have not completely failed you as a teacher? Corradinexyn is an extremely experimental drug based on ammonia and hydrogen. To use it on carbon based humanoids to treat a class two epidemic –“

    Wenera cut him off when she realized what he was alluding to. “It would cause severe damage to the lungs and induce internal bleeding.”

    Katanga nodded.

    “I don’t understand. It doesn’t make any sense.”

    The grey haired doctor gave her a look of curiosity.

    “If I was to say that we are to negotiate with the Fargans for the release of corradinexyn –“

    Now it was Katanga’s turn to interrupt. “I would say either somebody made a big mistake or is not at all honest of their true intentions.”

    Wenera nodded in agreement. At the moment she was tending towards the latter possibility. “Thank you, Elijah.”

    “Any time. Be careful, Jane. It sounds to me as if you do not want to get mixed up into this kind of funny business.”

    Wenera smiled. “You know I like a good mystery. I just can’t help myself. But maybe you’re right about this one.”

    “You take care of yourself now. I expect you to come visit me soon.”

    “Most definitely,” she said. “Wenera out.”

    With that Doctor Katanga disappeared from the screen.

    Wenera leaned back in her chair, her thoughts focusing on what Katanga had told her and trying to put it into relation to Eagle’s new mission. Katanga was right, it seemed somebody had done a mistake or was trying to cover something up. If indeed it was just a mistake she had an obligation to set everybody straight. Lives could depend on it. But for some reason she greatly doubted that Starfleet was able of such a gross error. But what was she to do? If this was a cover-up it was probably so for a good reason. Wenera was well aware that they all lived in dangerous times. The Federation’s enemies were slowly but surely beginning to outnumber its friends. If Starfleet wanted to keep whatever they were up to a secret perhaps it was best not to ask questions about it. She had always found it exceedingly difficult not to ask questions.


    *******************
     
  18. CeJay

    CeJay Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Feb 5, 2006
    The shrill melodies of the Ride of the Valkyries boomed out of the speakers, making Michael Owens’ skin crawl. He could feel the vibrations of the sound all around him. His eyes were closed and he was lying on his back on a large couch in his quarters directly beneath the windows into space. He didn’t exactly enjoy the loud music. This particular piece had never been one of his favorites. He had always found it too pretentious and overbearing but at the moment he felt like it was exactly what he needed. He had tried reading a book but had grown tired eventually and the thick leather-bound volume now rested on his chest. Above him the stars streaked by as Eagle continued to approach a place he did not wish to go.

    For a second he thought he heard a faint foreign sound, not part of the musical piece coming from the speakers. He couldn’t be sure, the Valkyries were simply too loud to allow for anything else to be audible. He didn’t much care either, unless the ship had gone to red alert he was certain it could wait. And the computer would have made sure to notify him properly if an emergency situation indeed would arise. He did not open his eyes not even when he thought he could hear a voice nearby. And then the music suddenly disappeared. His ears screamed out in pain for a few seconds as they had to adapt to sudden silence in the room.

    He had a good idea what had happened. There was only one person on board who had the audacity to enter is quarters unannounced. “I was listening to that, Dee,” he said with his eyes still closed.

    “You and half the ship.”

    Owens sighed and opened his eyes. Deen was standing just a few feet from the couch, looking down at him. “You ever heard of knocking? I’m pretty certain it is a serious offense to break into a captain’s quarters.”

    “You didn’t answer,” she replied. “Besides I didn’t break in. The door wasn’t locked, I figured you wanted company,” she said with a smile. She took a seat in the comfortable chair across from the sofa.

    Michael Owens sat up as well, setting the book on the small table in front of him. “I assume the blasting music wasn’t a clue to you.”

    Deen’s expression became slightly more serious as she noticed the book. She looked up at her friend. “You seem in a rather gloomy mood today.”

    “Now what gave you that impression?”

    “You’re listening to Wagner and you’re reading Tolstoy. Now that is a big clue.”

    He uttered a short laugh. “It’s a good book, you should read it sometime,” he said and stood up to walk over to the replicator.

    Deen leaned back in the chair and shook her head. “War and Peace? It’s the war part that throws me off. Too depressing.”

    “Tonic water, cold.”

    Owens took the glass containing the clear liquid that had materialized in the replicator alcove and returned to the couch. “Life is not all rainbows and sunshine,” he said and sat down.

    “Now that depends on your outlook I believe.” A smile had returned onto her face.

    “Dee, I’m not really in the mood to have this conversation right now.”

    “That’s too bad,” she shot back. “Because we’re having it.”

    Owens looked up to see the warm smile on her beautiful face. He was once again surprised how strong and assertive the young Tenarian could be when she wanted to. Something nobody would have been able to guess if judging her simply by her appearance.

    “Unless of course you would prefer to speak with Counselor Trenira. I’m sure she would arrive at all sorts of interesting conclusions judging your recent behavior. Not coming back for the dinner last night, staying in your quarters all day, reading depressing books and listening to aggressive music. That be quite an interesting psychological profile, don’t you think?”

    It was Owens’ intention not to give in to Deen and to maintain an uninviting demeanor to discourage the conversation. He didn’t manage. A small smile cracked his lips. “You must be her new understudy.”

    “It’s that new mission, isn’t it? Edison didn’t tell us much but I don’t understand why it would affect you like this. What could possibly –“

    “My father is coming on board,” Owens blurted out, interrupting Deen. Better to get it out early than to have her probe her way to it inch by inch, he thought.

    “The Admiral is coming to Eagle?”

    He had never understood why she insisted on calling him that. Certainly it was his rank but she had made it his nick name as well. “He is part of the delegation.”

    Her smile widened. “I haven’t seen him in years.”

    Why his father and Deen were getting along so well was another mystery. Or perhaps not. After all Owens could think of nobody who did not get along well with Deen.

    The Tenarian’s smile faded when she noticed Owens’ displeasure. “You’re still upset with him?”

    “Who said I was upset with him?” he said quickly and took a sip from his drink. His efforts to fool Deen were hopeless however and he knew it.

    “He is your father, Michael.”

    “And what exactly does that mean? That because we are connected by blood he has a right to tell me what to do?”

    “No, he has the right to tell you what to do because he earned that when he became an admiral. More importantly though it means that he is the person who was instrumental in bringing you into the universe and to make you into the man you are today.”

    Owens stood up took his book and headed for his desk. “Please, spare me Tenarian philosophy.”

    Deen looked after him. “I’m sure that respecting your parents is not a concept limited to my world.”

    He put the volume back into the bookshelf behind his desk. He froze for a moment when he spotted a framed picture of his as a child. His late mother and father flanking him on each side. “You know what they say about him and me, don’t you?”

    Deen stood up. “Who cares what they say?”

    Owens turned around. “I do if it turns out to be true.”

    She took a step towards him. “Over the last year and even before that I have seen you achieve things that Starfleet officers twice your age have not achieved. You have saved countless lives and made a positive impact on so many more. You have two starship crews who can verify first hand of what you have accomplished and would be more than willing to follow you wherever you lead them. Are you really going to disregard all that because of a few rumors started by ignorant and jealous men?”

    A forced smile came over Owens’ lips. He took a seat at his desk. Deen was a good speaker as much as she was a good friend. Somehow he didn’t doubt that she herself would make a great captain someday. Even though she claimed that she had no such aspirations.

    He looked up at her. “I guess I can’t argue with so many brave people now, can I?” he said and looked back down at his desk. His eyes found another picture. This one was animated and showed his brother Matthew Owens. He wore a long black gown complete with a mortarboard. His clothes as well as the trees in the background gently moved with the wind. The picture had been taken when Matthew had graduated from Cambridge University and it was the only one Michael had of his brother.

    Deen did not know nor did Owens intend for her to find out that he blamed his father for Matthew’s death. Not directly of course but it had been his father’s ardent views and his insistence that Matthew followed in his footsteps that had driven him away from home and kept him isolated from his family. In Michael’s eyes it was the reason why he had dedicated his life to something that was everything his father was not. And it had killed him. He didn’t know if he could ever forgive him for that.

    DeMara Deen stepped up to the desk. Owens looked up at her before she had a chance to realize what was occupying his mind.

    “You know I’m right,” she said. “It’s accepting it that is so difficult for you.”

    Owens mirrored her smile. Looking at her face everything seemed to be possible. His mood increased slightly. He stood up tall. “I guess there comes a time for every man to face his inner most demons.”

    Deen laughed. “So we have moved from philosophy to clichés.”


    ***************
     
  19. CeJay

    CeJay Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Feb 5, 2006
    Doctor Wenera was still sitting in the chair of her office, mulling over her recent conversation with her mentor. But her train of thought was interrupted when she spotted Lieutenant Lif Culsten entering sickbay. Leela Adams had already departed and sickbay was empty except for the Krellonian and herself. She stood up and left her office.

    “If you have come to watch the turtles hatch you’re a few days early,” she said as she approached Eagle’s helmsman.

    Culsten turned towards her. “Am I really? How unfortunate,” he replied with a smug smile on his face. “But while I’m here perhaps you could have a quick look at my wrist.”

    The doctor noticed the prominent swelling on his left wrist immediately. “Take a seat,” she said and pointed at one of the bio-beds.

    Culsten proceeded to do just that.

    She grabbed a tricorder and began to investigate the damaged ligament. “And how exactly did this happen?” she looked up with a smile. “Did you enter course corrections too quickly again?”

    The young officer uttered a short laugh. “Very funny, doc. No, actually I made the mistake of joining DeMara on the holodeck. Trying to climb a mountain range called Everest.”

    Wenera looked up. “You didn’t get to the top, I take it.”

    “Do you have any idea how big it is?” he replied with wounded pride. “I slipped and fell and if it hadn’t been for the safety protocols I would’ve come away with much more than a swollen wrist.”

    The doctor reached for a medical instrument, she activated it and slowly directed its healing beams toward Culsten’s wrist. “Thank heavens for safety protocols.” She had treated more holodeck related injuries in her time as a starship physician than injuries derived from any other activity. They were usually as minor as the young lieutenant’s wrist but ever so often somebody felt like taking the ultimate risk by disabling the safety protocols. She could never understand why some people were so careless with their own health and safety.

    The instrument showed results instantly and the swelling slowly decreased. “Have you become so unchallenged with your new position that you have decided to climb Earth’s highest mountain?”

    Culsten shrug his shoulders. “This new mission doesn’t promise to require any of my skills. I need to keep myself challenged, doc. Keep the mind sharp, you know?”

    The swelling was now almost gone. His copper skin around his wrist was still discolored but that would heal by itself in the next few days. The doctor could have removed the redness with ease but she preferred to keep her patients with reminders of what she thought had been obtuse decisions. Even if those were merely temporary.

    Wenera sighed as she put the medical device back into its place. “A challenge would be to find out what this mission is truly about.”

    Culsten sprang to his feet. “What do you know?”

    Wenera turned around and quickly regretted her last statement when she noticed the eager gleam in the young man’s silvery eyes. She looked at him for a second, considering if she should divulge the information that she had learned. She decided against it and turned away to return to her office. “It’s nothing, forget I said anything. Take it easy with that wrist now.”

    But Culsten was not going to give up that easily. He followed her. “You know something about this mission, don’t you? What is it?”

    Wenera didn’t stop but continued into her office. “Don’t worry about it.”

    “Doctor, I am the primary flight control officer of this vessel. I am responsible for the safety of nearly nine-hundred lives. Don’t you think I should know everything there is to know about this mission? For everyone’s sake?”

    The doctor turned around to face Culsten, giving him a very suspicious look.

    He knew right away that this approach was not going to get him anywhere. “Fine, don’t tell me,” he said and turned towards the exit. “However I will be coming in every hour or so to check up on my wrist. Just to make sure it’s healing alright,” he said and then faced Wenera again. “I’m very worried about it,” he added, stroking his previously swollen joint.

    Wenera sighed and leaned against her desk. “You won’t leave this alone until I tell you, will you?”

    Culsten nodded eagerly and took a few steps towards her. “What’s going on?” he asked, almost whispering.

    “You promise you won’t tell anyone?”

    He put his hand on his lower chest where Wenera knew his heart was. “Sacred Krellonian promise.”

    “I made some calls and I think this whole mission is nothing more than a cover-up,” she said, actually feeling relieved to be able to share the information with somebody. “The vaccine that the Fargans want to negotiate for would be completely useless to them.”

    The young officer nodded slowly. “Of course. And Farga is pretty close to both the Romulan and the Klingon border.”

    Wenera had not even considered that before. “What do you make of it?”

    Culsten was in thoughts for a moment. “With the way things are with the Klingons and the Dominion, who knows? Perhaps the Fargans have some sort of secret that could help the Federation. A new weapon or something like that.”

    Wenera found the young helmsman’s imagination slightly too vivid for his own good.

    “Doctor,” he said suddenly, “we should investigate the matter.”

    She quickly shook her head. “No, no. Nobody can know this. We might end up doing some serious damage to whatever their true intentions are.”

    “I mean discreetly, doc. We’ll reach Vulcan tomorrow and take on the delegation. We’ll just keep our eyes open and perhaps ask a few harmless questions here and there. Just to see what they have to say.”

    Doctor Wenera didn’t like Culsten’s enthusiasm at all. And she didn’t like the idea of snooping around without the knowledge or the consent of the captain. But she could not deny the thrill and excitement that would come with being involved in an undercover investigation. It would almost be as if they were spies.

    She finally nodded. “Fine but remember to be discreet. And if we find out anything we’ll contact the captain immediately.”

    “Of course,” he replied quickly. He turned towards the exit. “I have to go and make preparations for our assignment. We should have code names. I think I’m going to be seven seven-oh and you can be whatever you like,” he continued to mumble something else but was already out of the doctors earshot.

    Wenera looked after him with a concerned expression, wondering if she had made a big mistake.


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  20. CeJay

    CeJay Rear Admiral Rear Admiral

    Joined:
    Feb 5, 2006
    Owens did not usually feel uneasy when awaiting to welcome somebody onto Eagle. In fact he had become quite used to receiving dignitaries and VIPs since he had taken command of his ship. But today was different. Certainly he was excepting a number of Federation delegates to come aboard but among them was also his father. Deen’s prep speech the day earlier had somewhat helped to remove some of his trepidation concerning this meeting. But he certainly did not feel comfortable with it. He had stood quietly for the last two minutes in Eagle’s transporter room, staring at the empty platform. He had exchanged his standard black and red jumpsuit for a long shirted dress uniform. His hands were clasped behind his back and he appeared to be entirely calm to Eugene Edison who stood next to him also wearing his dress uniform.

    Even though it was difficult to tell for somebody who didn’t know the captain, Edison knew that something bothered him. The first officer had always admired the captain for his usually high spirits and easy going attitude. He knew Owens was thirty-eight years old and for a Starfleet captain that was not old at all. He had managed to maintain the looks and the attitude of a man at least three years younger. But for the last two days he had seemed closer to his actual age than ever before. He had hardly said two words since he had arrived in the transporter room. In fact the captain hadn’t said much at all since they had received the new orders and Edison did not know why that was. Something told him that he was about to find out.

    Chief Petty Officer Yang Sen Chow, Eagle’s most senior transporter controller, a short and slightly bulky man of Chinese descent who was usually seen wearing a smile, cleared his throat. “Sir, the delegation is signaling that they are ready to beam on board.”

    Owens didn’t reply. Instead he simply nodded, not to the chief in particular but Chow did understand and began to operate his controls.

    Edison found Owens’ snub response rude and uncharacteristic but if Chow, a Starfleet veteran of thirty-five years had taken any offense by it he certainly didn’t show it.

    Seconds later the transporter platform came to life. Six columns of sparkling blue light emerged and began to reveal six figures. They materialized into solid matter in just a few heartbeats.

    The first officer was surprised to find that all of them except for one were Vulcans. Of course being in orbit of the planet Vulcan it seemed to make sense but Federation negotiating teams were usually more diverse. The non-Vulcan was a human male, wearing an admiral’s uniform. A man of advanced years, close to eighty most likely. His hair was grey and he wore a neatly trimmed white beard. He seemed tall for his age, seemingly robust and in good health with energetic eyes. He looked familiar to Edison but he couldn’t quite place him.

    The admiral stood front and center on the platform. The next person who quickly caught Edison’s eye was woman, standing next to the human. She was with no doubt Vulcan but the blond highlights in her jet black hair and her subtle yet obvious make-up were rather untraditional. She was probably around fifty years old, Edison guessed, but she didn’t look a day older than a thirty year old human woman. She was strangely attractive and it wasn’t just because of her make-up and hair. The other Vulcans looked more conventional except for the man who stood on the admiral’s right, a younger Vulcan wearing a green robe instead of the black and golden ones most of the older Vulcans preferred.

    The admiral stepped off the platform and the Vulcans followed.

    “Welcome aboard, Eagle,” said Owens in a nearly monotone sounding tone of voice. “We are honored to serve this delegation.”

    Some of the Vulcans gave him curt nods.

    The admiral however stood firm, watching the captain intently.

    Owens didn’t speak.

    Then to Edison’s complete surprise a large smile formed on the admiral’s face and he took two quick steps forward to embrace the captain. “It’s been too long. You look good.”

    Owens embraced the admiral only hesitantly.

    “You don’t look so bad yourself,” he said once he had let go. The smile on his face was remarkably smaller.

    “Let me introduce my first officer Commander Eugene Edison,” he said and pointed to the executive officer standing next to him.

    “Of course,” said the admiral and took Edison’s hand. “I’ve heard much about you, Commander. The man who single handedly avoided a major political crisis on Elderon IV. Let me tell you there are a number of people in the Federation Council eternally grateful to you.”

    “Thank you, sir. However the stories of my exploits on Elderon IV are greatly exaggerated.” Edison had never met this man before but it became quickly apparent who he was. The eyes, the distinct chin and even the manner of his speech all reminded him of his captain. “It is a pleasure having you on board, Admiral Owens.”

    The admiral nodded. “I appreciate a humble man, Commander. I hope you’ll remain at my son’s side for some time to come.”

    “I’m certainly planning on it, sir.”

    Admiral Owens turned to the Vulcans. “I don’t think there is going to be much time for exchanging pleasantries on this trip but I’d like you to meet a very exceptional person nevertheless,” he said and gently motioned for the female Vulcan to step forward.

    She did and Edison could swear he could see the crack of a faint smile on her face.

    “Please meet K’tera. One of the masterminds of this undertaking. K’tera, this is Captain Michael Owens.”

    “You do me too much honor, Admiral,” she said softly and then turned to the two other Starfleet officers. “I am very thankful for you to provide your services to our endeavor,” she gestured at another member of the delegation. “But I cannot with good conscience accept the admiral’s praise without introducing Mister Nakaar without whom this mission would not have been possible.”

    The slender Vulcan man in the green robe stepped next to the woman. “Captain, I look forward to traveling on your fine ship. I have a natural curiosity for Starfleet vessels.”

    Edison found both Vulcans very refreshing. They were not at all what he had expected. He noticed something else. For a moment he was sure he could spot a flash of recognition in Owens’ eyes when he saw Nakaar. The Vulcan man himself didn’t show any such signs. The look vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

    Owens nodded. “We will attempt to make your stay on Eagle as comfortable as possible. If you like, my first officer will now show you to your quarters.”

    “That would be appropriate,” K’tera replied.

    Commander Edison exchanged a quick glance with his captain, one that didn’t tell him much at all. However he was beginning to understand why he had been so agitated over the last two days. His theory became substantiated when he realized that Admiral Owens was not going to be led away but instead remained in the transporter room with the captain.

    “I might not have much time,” Admiral Owens said once Edison and the Vulcans had left the room. “But I do expect a tour of your ship at some point.”

    “Certainly. I’ll have the commander show you around. Would you like to see your quarters now?”

    The admiral nodded and followed Owens out of the transporter room.

    “I would have come by sooner to see you and your new ship but I’ve been busy, I’m sure you understand,” he said as they walked down the corridor side by side.

    “Of course.”

    The two Owens’ entered the turbo-lift.

    “Deck eight.”

    The lift car sped away instantly.

    “How long will it take to reach Farga?” asked the admiral.

    “Six days at high warp,” the captain replied. He stood calmly next to his father, his eyes looking straight ahead. “We can make it in five if you feel it necessary,” he said, shooting the admiral a quick glance.

    Jonathan Owens shook his head. “Six days is fine. That will give the delegation enough time for the preparations.”

    The lift stopped and the doors slid open. Captain Owens allowed the admiral to step out first and then quickly led the way again. His father stayed at his side.

    They reached one of Eagle’s largest guest quarters a minute later. Neither one of them spoke until they had both entered. The admiral found that his only piece of luggage had already been delivered and it waited for him on the king-sized bed.

    Michael Owens made sure that everything was to his father’s satisfaction and then turned towards the exit.

    “Michael.”

    It couldn’t have been that easy, he thought as he turned around to face his father.

    “Two years,” he said, standing up straight. “We haven’t seen each other in two years.”

    “Whose fault is that?” Michael shot back quickly regretting his outburst. He didn’t want to get into an argument. There were so many things that he wanted to yell at his father, so many things he felt he had to take responsibility for. And yet confronting him, here and now was not something he wished to do.

    The admiral took a step towards his son. “Mine, yes I know that. But I’m here now, aren’t I? Do I not deserve to spend some private time with my only son?”

    Owens wanted to laugh out loud.

    Now, he wants to spend time with me? Why didn’t you do that when I needed you the most? When I was young, when my mother passed away? When I desperately needed somebody?

    But what made Michael truly cringe was his father’s emphasis on only son.

    Michael turned back to the door. “I’m busy, dad. I’m trying to run a starship here.”

    The admiral laughed. “So you are busy, huh? How does that feel?”

    The doors had already opened to let the captain leave the room but he froze when he reached the frame. He had promised himself he wouldn’t get angry. He was about to break that promise. He spun around. “Alright, let’s talk then. How about you start telling me why everybody I meet seems to be convinced that I only got Eagle because of you?”

    The admiral’s facial features tensed up. “That’s ridiculous,” he replied quickly and walked towards the bedroom.

    “Is it? Then why can’t you face me when telling me that?” he asked following his father who had disappeared into the adjacent room.

    “Son, we’re going to be together for only a few days and I’m more than willing to do some catching up with you. But if all you’re interested in is throwing accusation at me then perhaps we should keep away from each other,” he said as he began to open his suitcase to retrieve a few padds.

    Michael didn’t enter the bedroom but remained by the door arch. “I don’t understand it, I really don’t. You’ve spent most of your life negotiating with Klingons, Romulans and Cardassians but when it comes to your own son you cannot face the tough questions. I wonder why what is, dad? Is it because you fear the answers?”

    The admiral slowly turned to look at Michael. “I’m the first one to admit that I wasn’t the best father.”

    Michael Owens interrupted him with a loud sneer.

    “I know I wasn’t,” he continued with a louder tone in his voice. “But I have always done what I thought to be best for you. And you are right. You wouldn’t be here without me because I didn’t raise a man who can’t rise to the occasion and take what he deserves.”

    “Raise? Is that what you call it? When did you find time to do that?”

    “If you realize it or not I have sacrificed much for you and your brother and I lost him. Twice. Damn it, can’t you see that I don’t what that to happen to you?”

    For a short moment Michael Owens had hoped to remain calm and perhaps finally get to the truth. To for once and for all find out if his career was really all his. But that moment had passed when his father had decided to bring up Matthew; his brother.

    “I can’t believe this,” he said and looked straight into his father’s eyes. “How dare you bring him up? How dare you?” Without uttering another word, he turned his back to his father and left.

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    Next: Chapter Four - Broken Ties