The Phoenix Saga is a multi-part original fiction set in the Star Trek universe. It was written by my good friend Andy Davenport, and I've agreed to host it here for him. Here is Part 1:
2380.
ALPHA FLYER, EARTH SPACEDOCK.
The interior of Earth Spacedock made the Alpha Flyer seem like the size of a gnat in comparison to its size.
The Flyer was dwarfed further still by the close proximity of assortments of starship classes, docked in their berths, awaiting the possibility of being the first to have retrofitted the new quantum slipstream bubble core, and relevant engineering upgrades.
The Vesta Class U.S.S Phoenix already had the bubble core installed, so if this mission was a failure, she would be retro fitted with a standard warp drive.
The two nervous, anxious pilots went over their final launch checks, again, & again.
Lieutenant Markey felt like he was going to hyper ventilate with the high expectations of the mission at hand.
Whilst Lieutenant Commander Dantuma confidently worked over the quantum field regulators, Craig couldn’t understand how he could be so calm.
Here they were, about to launch in a super shuttle installed with the latest prototype quantum slipstream drive, with the fate of the mission resting on their broad shoulders.
If this mission wasn’t a success, the Starfleet higher ups were going to assign the slipstream project to the history books, alongside the transwarp great experiment.
Trying to control his breathing, and return to an air of calmness, he gazed over to the delegation looking on from an Observation Lounge.
The Lieutenant new that his mentor, and Captain of the project, Simon Hodgkinson, was watching with great anticipation, expectation, and faith.
Duco carried on working with an air of calm & cool collectiveness, as Craig regained his composure.
“Commander, how do you do it? Here we are about to make history, and you just carry on as if it is just another gaseous anomaly mapping mission!”
Duco stopped his test runs of the diode pulse initiator, and turned to face his co-pilot.
“Although I appear calm, inside I am completely the opposite. A good Starfleet officer though cannot show this hand in situations such as this. Would you follow a Captain who wasn’t confident or portrayed an air of confidence in their abilities to lead? I wouldn’t! So, in answer to your question, my cool exterior covers a quaking interior. But then, I’m only human.”
Craig smiled, no longer feeling alone in his trepidation, as they strapped themselves in ready for pre-launch countdown.
THE HIKARU SULU OBSERVATION LOUNGE.
EARTH SPACEDOCK.
In the Observation Lounge showing the view of the 5th & final Alpha Flyer, to be commissioned, Simon found himself anxious, excited, and slightly bored, all rolled into one tumultuous emotional overload.
The excitement & anxiousness threatened to overwhelm him, what with witnessing the culmination of the project he oversaw.
Ever since the U.S.S. Voyager returned, Starfleet wanted to reverse engineer, and perfect the quantum slipstream technology that had been acquired.
Working alongside such living legends had been an honour, and yet as the failure of this final test mission promised cancellation of the project, he felt honoured to have been a part of what one day others might deem a historical chapter in Federation & human history.
Even more so, he decided to keep the company of a legend at the delegation, rather than the stuffy elite such as Admiral Jellicoe, & President Bacco.
At first glance, the legendary company he kept at his launch ceremony was an everyday Chief Engineer to the untrained eye.
Yet, the El-Aurian, Ken Mumford had experienced centuries of engineering marvels & failures.
One of those was Ken’s participation in the testing of transwarp prototypes during the late 2270’s to mid 2280’s, which, an accident had led him to be time displaced.
(Although for a while he was presumed missing, and ultimately announced dead).
Most notably, the engineering whiz now found himself the beck & call of every top engineering project throughout the Federation, and Captain David Gold of the Starfleet Corps Of Engineers had badgered him so many times to join his crew, Ken had lost count.
As Chancellor Martok approached Simon, Ken muttered to him; “If there’s one thing i will always have difficulty adjusting to, it’s sharing a drink with a Klingon, without them wanting to take your head off!”
VESTA CLASS U.S.S. PHOENIX.
DRYDOCK 5.
McKINLEY STATION.
Dr. Kurt Coey wasn’t much for fanfare of any kind.
Rather than be under the brilliant glare of the spotlight, he preferred to shy away from it.
Although, circumstances always led to the extreme opposite.
A routine training & integration of the medical staff, along with a tour of the medical facilities by the CMO of Starfleet Medical, Beverly Crusher, had suddenly become anything but routine.
As he muttered to himself, and paced around whilst the state of the art medical facilities had their first impromptu test, he occasionally interjected his advice to the unseasoned, yet brilliant staff.
‘Oh no, it had to be us that was the closest available starship. None of the other shiny new contraptions have any medical facilities up to standard, let alone yet to be installed. Even Spacedock medical facilities are having a refit!’
As he continued to pace, he chuckled at the fact that it was Monday, and the engineers were making their final equipment instalments tomorrow. The irony was there that if Drex had had his mishap tomorrow, there would have been plenty of facilities available to attend to him. But oh no, it had to happen today.
‘I told Councillor Drex, not to try the cooked meats. The Klingon stomach can only process raw meat at best. But he insisted a true warrior is fearful of nothing. Damn, that Klingon pride.’
This time his muttering had become loud enough for his staff and Crusher to hear, in turn causing one of the medics to make the wrong incision.
As alarms rang, and with Crusher looking on, the unseasoned surgeon who lapsed in concentration, panicked.
Smugly, Dr. Coey, calmly interjected between the hubbub, and showed them the redundant organ.
‘See? Klingons are warrior bred. They have a back up for everything, including if their heart stops. The other one should kick in about five....four....three....two....one....’ The monitors’ alarms ceased, as the regular heartbeat registered on screen.
Kurt turned to Crusher, and made a thumbs up gesture, as a general smile of relief washed over her face.
ALPHA FLYER MARK V.
Everything was going according to plan as Craig & Duco were escorted at high impulse to the edge of the Sol system by the Federation flagship.
Conveying their thanks as the gargantuan Sovereign class vessel warped out of view, the officers returned to the business at hand.
As Duco conveyed instructions to Craig to input navigational co-ordinates, Craig froze.
“Are you out of your mind? The mission states that we are to attempt a quantum slipstream jump to Vulcan, where, if successful, we will wait to rendezvous with the Captain Hodgkinson.’’
The Commander laughed.
‘’Earth to Vulcan for a slipstream jump is like throwing a stone across a pond. We need a proper test of the drive. As the senior ranking officer i say let’s give the higher ups a surprise at what this vessel can do, and go visit our Klingon allies!”
There goes my fast track to command, thought Lieutenant Markey, as he readied the ship for warp speed.
“Punch it.’’
In the blink of an eye, the flyer jumped from high impulse to warp one, and climbing.
It was hardly noticeable as the super shuttle increased its speed, and as warp five approached, Craig initiated the chroniton integrator followed by a diode pulse, swiftly initiating the drive.
Triumphantly the Lieutenant announced; ‘’Quantum slipstream threshold broken!”
VESTA CLASS U.S.S. PHOENIX.
DRYDOCK 5.
McKINLEY STATION.
The alarm had been ringing for a constant 5 minutes, filling the room with its ear splitting tone.
Yet, even as it shrieked annoyingly, no one acknowledged it to terminate the noise.
After a moment longer, the clock went into snooze mode, ready to emit its high pitched alarm in another five minutes.
The familiar beeping noise heralding a communication pitched through the quarters speakers.
“Bridge to Lieutenant Walker.”
Kirsty shot up into a sitting position immediately, with the rigidity of a Borg drone, whilst the voice continued to address her.
“The Ship’s Counsellor Room has had its delivery of the final furnishings and equipment, the only thing is there is no Counsellor present to direct the workers and engineers.”
This time the v’tosh ka’tur Vulcan Ensign Sodak awoke sharply, realising that he too was late for his Engineering shift.
“Sorry, Captain, I’m on my way’’ she sheepishly exclaimed.
On the gleaming new bridge of the U.S.S. Phoenix, Captain Simon Hodgkinson grinned mischievously at his first officer, whilst taking great enjoyment from awakening the late reporting Lieutenant.
“Oh, and Lieutenant, give Ensign Sodak a motivational nudge as he should have reported for Alpha Shift a half hour ago. Hodgkinson out.”
As Kirsty hurriedly prepared herself, she found herself cursing the ships sensors for embarrassingly locating Sodak, and cursed the Captain for his warped sense of humour.
EL CAPITAN.
YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK, EARTH.
With each grasp and foothold, Lieutenant Reza Babai & Commander Andrew Davenport, were itching closer to breaking the free climbing record of El Capitan, in Yosemite National Park.
With each movement upwards, inching closer to their goal at the top, the banter became more & more competitive.
“You know, for someone who has very little memory of his life, you sure do make climbing this mountain look as easy as riding a bike. You sure you haven’t done this before?’’ Rez, (as his friends called him), questioned.
Andy, focused at the task at hand, and trying his best to ignore his future ship mates jibes, laughed; “Don’t do a James T. Kirk on me now, as i don’t have a pair of standard issue hover boots!”
As they reached the top, out of breath, they sat down and rested, taking in the spectacular view.
Rez’s thoughts changed to the pending assignment on the Phoenix, and the change, he felt that they both needed.
Leading Starfleet Security at the Quantum Slipstream Complex in Montana had become very routine & mundane, whilst he knew that the years of rehabilitation & re-integration into Starfleet, had reached a point for Andy.
A new mandates of exploration into the four quadrants was just the kind of fresh starts he felt they both needed.
He relished the thought of heading out into the Alpha Quadrant, re-establishing links with previously visited civilisations & Federation members, as well seeing if the really was anything more to re-discover in the most explored quadrant of all.
Although Rez couldn’t help but feel sorry for his colleague Andy, what with having to rebuild his life after affecting events.
Perhaps the Alpha Quadrant five year mission would jog his memory, especially considering it was a territory he was so familiar with.
As they took in the scenery & had a moment to compose themselves, Andy’s communicator chirped.
“Davenport here.”
The familiar cheery voice of Captain Hodgkinson filtered through the unit’s speakers.
“Gentlemen, congratulations on breaking the free climbing record. No doubt that when you remove yourselves from El Capitan, that a media frenzy awaits you. Well, sorry gentlemen, we are bringing the launch forward to tomorrow.
I would like all senior staff to meet me in the Observation Lounge, at Drydock 5, McKinley Station, for drinks this evening.
We’ll have an informal discussion.
O, officers Dantuma & Markey won’t be able to make it, but that’s a story i will convey to you later.
Congratulations again, gentlemen.
Hodgkinson out.”
Andy chuckled and wondered what mess Duco & Craig had gotten themselves into now.
OBSERVATION LOUNGE.
DRYDOCK 5.
McKINLEY STATION.
After relaying the details of the upcoming mission, and the misadventures of the Alpha Flyer, the senior officers decided to call it a night.
Their first mission was to facilitate a peace treaty on Ardana, & assist with the de-commissioning of the sky cities.
Following that, after letting them stew in the Federation Embassy on Q’onos, the Phoenix would collect the Alpha Flyer & officers Dantuma & Markey.
Swirling the synthehol in the glass tumbler, he couldn’t help but be amazed at what had been achieved in such a short period of time.
He was surprised at himself for returning to Starfleet & staying
But the history making assignment that he and other Captains had been given was what Starfleet was all about, and reason enough to stay.
The swirling of the tumbler of synthehol seemed to have a hypnotic effect on the Captain, but none so more as the vision outside the gargantuan window’s of the Observation Lounge.
The Work Bee’s, Sphinx Pods, & other auxiliary craft were finishing their final snagging jobs, whilst on the inside of the starship, the same occurred. Yet, as he watched the frenetic activity, he pondered the journey that he had taken to get to this moment.
The past three years had been a whirlwind; from the opening of the Quantum Slipstream Complex, (on the site of the famous Warp 5 Complex), and dissecting the advanced alien technology that the returning U.S.S. Voyager had acquired, to the laying of the keel of the Phoenix at the San Francisco Fleet Yards, in Sausalito.
Today was even more of a whirlwind, what with the announcement of Starfleet assigning 5 starships per quadrant, on 5 year missions returning to the age of discovery enjoyed by James T. Kirk.
Then, to cap off the announcements of vessels assigned, he was chosen to be Captain of one of those ships. The newly christened, Vesta Class, U.S.S. Phoenix, was to be his chariot.
Captain Hodgkinson couldn’t help but wonder that the vessel had been aptly named, especially with the Federation rising from the ashes of war over the past few years.
Peace had been enjoyed by all, and a new era of exploring the farthest, outermost reaches of the Alpha Quadrant had begun. As he quickly downed the remaining drops of synthehol, he toasted silently to the ship; “To the re-discovery of the final frontier.’’
He was restless and knew sleep wouldn’t be forthcoming, and with that in mind, he decided to request a Travel Pod, and journey over the ship from bow to stern.
Not as an examiner, but this time as an awed onlooking officer; as if about to receive the first Captaincy of a vessel.
Taking his glass back to the bar, he made his way to the transportation hub.
Goosebumps formed on his neck, and he shivered as if someone had walked over his grave, as he quickly whipped on his jacket.
A silent, shrouded figure monitored the Captain, and noticed a quickness in his step, as if he had seen that he was being followed.
But that wasn’t possible, as the stalker had a near perfect shroud, and was invisible but to the most advanced of sensors.
Reaching for his communicator, the speaker uttered an alien command;
“Dach ma chek.”
Friday 26 February 2010
Amazing Gracie by Andy Davenport
I've agreed to post some fanfics here that have been written by one of my good friends. He is a huge Trekkie and a talented writer. Enjoy...
Amazing Gracie by Andy Davenport
Considering the star attractions were so coveted & protected, he couldn’t help but notice the complete lack of security.
He removed his white robe & tentatively sat on the edge of the tank, whilst dipping his feet in the icy water.
Even his stoic reserve couldn’t ignore the shiver that wracked his body; a diversionary thought was needed to calm the reaction his body would experience as he slowly lowered himself into the depths.
He pictured himself back home, swimming in the balmy sea where the temperature was considerably warmer.
Focusing a portion of his mind on that thought, and imagining himself swimming in those warm, distant waters diminished his bodily reactions as he adjusted to the iciness.
His remaining focus was on the short time he would have in the tank & to see if it would be possible to mind meld with the creature to efficiently state his intentions.
Yes, what he was about to do is a taboo amongst his people; intrusive, forced, mind meld.
But the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the one.
He hoped that the leviathan wouldn’t have an adverse reaction to his attempts to reach out to its consciousness.
Verbal communication was out of the question, as he wasn’t the greatest of singers in his own language, never mind a language alien to his own!
How illogical, he thought, of the endeavour he was currently undertaking; but the future survival of humanity was at stake.
Sometimes, the logical choice to a problem, not matter how impossible, would be an illogical course of action.
And here he was, undertaking the illogical and the impossible.
If his father could see him now…….
Kirk couldn’t believe his eyes as he was taking in the information presented to by the tour guide, and resident whale biologist Gillian Taylor.
He couldn’t believe that through the screen, Spock was swimming alongside one of the whales, clearly trying to communicate.
‘My mind to your mind.’
This was a gamble, but surely, somewhere within the leviathan, some kind of intelligence lurked, Spock hoped.
Nothing.
Silence.
As he was about to attempt again, the words came through….loud, consistent, and in an attacking flurry.
SLAYER! MURDERER!’
Disorientated, and aware that time was of the essence, Spock pleaded reason.
‘Wait, i can assure you that my species does not hunt your kind, nor are there any of your kind on my planet.’
Gracie responded, as George started to move closer to protect her.
‘This is not your planet, it is everyone’s planet, and if you keep hunting us, we will be gone’.
Spock responded; ‘How right you are, as in the near future, your kind will face extinction.’
During the pause that Gracie seemed to take to take in his words, he quickly explained that he was from the future, and that he and his fellow travellers had come back through time to save Earth from a devastating probe. A probe that was slowly making the planet wither, due to no answer to the probe’s call to the oceans....to the whales.
‘You and George would be the only two of your kind, free from hunters, to wander the oceans as you wish, and hopefully re-populate the future.’
The thought seemed like laughter to Spock, as Gracie explained that her and George were going to be parents for the first time.
‘Fascinating,’ replied Spock.
‘Also perfect, as you would be the heralds of your race, the future ancestors of your kind, as you fill the oceans with song again.’
Outside the tank, the crowd had raised the alarm as an elderly woman pointed at the tank at Spock swimming alongside Gracie.
Gillian was furious and ran up the stairs, making her way to the top of the tank.
Kirk, with disbelief at what he was witnessing, followed her at pace.
Gracie had decided that an opportunity to live free from hunting, and the shadow of extinction looming over her, and her unborn calf, was too good to pass up.
‘George agrees.
We will join you in your future.
That’s if you have one as Gillian looked furious when she spotted you swimming with us.
She is so protective of us, and has been there for us ever since as infants we swam randomly into the Bay, escaping the hunters who murdered our pod.
If only more humans were like her.’
Spock conveyed his gratitude as he felt the pressure of his Vulcan lungs starting to ache for air, and swam to the surface.
Amazing Gracie by Andy Davenport
Considering the star attractions were so coveted & protected, he couldn’t help but notice the complete lack of security.
He removed his white robe & tentatively sat on the edge of the tank, whilst dipping his feet in the icy water.
Even his stoic reserve couldn’t ignore the shiver that wracked his body; a diversionary thought was needed to calm the reaction his body would experience as he slowly lowered himself into the depths.
He pictured himself back home, swimming in the balmy sea where the temperature was considerably warmer.
Focusing a portion of his mind on that thought, and imagining himself swimming in those warm, distant waters diminished his bodily reactions as he adjusted to the iciness.
His remaining focus was on the short time he would have in the tank & to see if it would be possible to mind meld with the creature to efficiently state his intentions.
Yes, what he was about to do is a taboo amongst his people; intrusive, forced, mind meld.
But the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the one.
He hoped that the leviathan wouldn’t have an adverse reaction to his attempts to reach out to its consciousness.
Verbal communication was out of the question, as he wasn’t the greatest of singers in his own language, never mind a language alien to his own!
How illogical, he thought, of the endeavour he was currently undertaking; but the future survival of humanity was at stake.
Sometimes, the logical choice to a problem, not matter how impossible, would be an illogical course of action.
And here he was, undertaking the illogical and the impossible.
If his father could see him now…….
Kirk couldn’t believe his eyes as he was taking in the information presented to by the tour guide, and resident whale biologist Gillian Taylor.
He couldn’t believe that through the screen, Spock was swimming alongside one of the whales, clearly trying to communicate.
‘My mind to your mind.’
This was a gamble, but surely, somewhere within the leviathan, some kind of intelligence lurked, Spock hoped.
Nothing.
Silence.
As he was about to attempt again, the words came through….loud, consistent, and in an attacking flurry.
SLAYER! MURDERER!’
Disorientated, and aware that time was of the essence, Spock pleaded reason.
‘Wait, i can assure you that my species does not hunt your kind, nor are there any of your kind on my planet.’
Gracie responded, as George started to move closer to protect her.
‘This is not your planet, it is everyone’s planet, and if you keep hunting us, we will be gone’.
Spock responded; ‘How right you are, as in the near future, your kind will face extinction.’
During the pause that Gracie seemed to take to take in his words, he quickly explained that he was from the future, and that he and his fellow travellers had come back through time to save Earth from a devastating probe. A probe that was slowly making the planet wither, due to no answer to the probe’s call to the oceans....to the whales.
‘You and George would be the only two of your kind, free from hunters, to wander the oceans as you wish, and hopefully re-populate the future.’
The thought seemed like laughter to Spock, as Gracie explained that her and George were going to be parents for the first time.
‘Fascinating,’ replied Spock.
‘Also perfect, as you would be the heralds of your race, the future ancestors of your kind, as you fill the oceans with song again.’
Outside the tank, the crowd had raised the alarm as an elderly woman pointed at the tank at Spock swimming alongside Gracie.
Gillian was furious and ran up the stairs, making her way to the top of the tank.
Kirk, with disbelief at what he was witnessing, followed her at pace.
Gracie had decided that an opportunity to live free from hunting, and the shadow of extinction looming over her, and her unborn calf, was too good to pass up.
‘George agrees.
We will join you in your future.
That’s if you have one as Gillian looked furious when she spotted you swimming with us.
She is so protective of us, and has been there for us ever since as infants we swam randomly into the Bay, escaping the hunters who murdered our pod.
If only more humans were like her.’
Spock conveyed his gratitude as he felt the pressure of his Vulcan lungs starting to ache for air, and swam to the surface.
Tuesday 1 December 2009
Seeds of Obsession (a prequel to the Star Trek episode "Obsession") - Part 2
by Sharon Miller
“Here’s what we know so far,” Kirk began.
He was standing in a small room, just off the main colony bar and recreation area, and was briefing his Captain and a handful of senior officers on his experience with the deadly cloud.
“It appears to be some kind of gaseous entity. It registers as a high concentration of dikoronium, and also gives off a sickly sweet odour, like honey, that quickly becomes incredibly claustrophobic. We don’t know if phaser fire causes any permanent damage to it, but it seemed to dissipate it earlier.”
Garrovick stood, and placed a hand on Kirk’s shoulder. “Good work Lieutenant,” he commended hi., “What’s our weapons situation?”
“Most phasers are still at eighty to ninety percent Sir,” Security Officer, and Kirk’s best friend, Darryl Kohout replied.
Garrovick nodded. “Now, we have no idea where this thing will strike next” the Farragut Captain began, pacing up and down the small room as he spoke, his mind calling on all of his battle experience to determine the strategy that would give them the best chance against this thing. “We could spend weeks patrolling every inch of this planet, waiting for a chance encounter. Or, we could draw it to us. If we keep all the people in one place, then it’s going to need to feed eventually. I suggest we hole up the colonists in the bar, with some of the security team, and the rest of us will take the perimeter, build barricades and lie in wait.”
The rest of the men agreed with this plan, and instantly leapt into action to begin carrying out the Captain’s unspoken requests. No-one said anything, but each and every man there knew that they didn’t have a moment to lose.
The colony bar and recreation area was a large, open plan room, with a bar at one end, several small tables and chairs, and at the other end a pool table. Every single one of the one hundred and eighty colonists on the planet had made their way to this building, to hear what the Federation Officers had planned, and to gain a measure of safety from these armed men and women who had come to protect them. Add to this number the remaining two hundred or so members of the Farragut’s landing party, and the large room was becoming incredibly cramped.
Garrovick began to organize his people into groups. A security detail of about a hundred men were to be positioned around the perimeter of the building, to be on the lookout for any signs of the creature. And the rest were given the task of barricading and sealing every inch of the room, to provide a safe hideout for the colonists when the battle began.
Due to him being one of only a small number of people who had so far seen the creature and survived, Kirk was posted to the perimeter detail, and placed in charge of a small team of battle-ready security officers. Darryl Kohout would find himself on the other side of the walls, protecting the colonists from within the barricades, which he was now helping to erect.
As Kirk began to make his way outside, Kohout approached him.
“Hey Jim” he began, the usual confidence in his voice now replaced by a nervousness at the thought of facing this unknown and unseen enemy, “Foley says you saw it. What was it like?”
Kirk thought for a few moments before answering. “Darryl, it just looks so harmless, so innocuous,” he laughed humorlessly. “It’s hard to believe that it could be capable of death and destruction on such a grand scale.”
“But we can beat it, right?” Kohout asked, desperately seeking reassurance from his friend.
Kirk shook his head and sighed deeply. “I hope so,” he replied honestly. “But…how do you fight something that isn’t even solid? Something we can’t even touch? Grab hold of?”
Kohout looked at Kirk silently for a few moments. “I don’t know Jim,” he finally admitted.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kirk could see Chenoweth waving him over, and he realised that, for now at least, he had to say his goodbyes to Kohout.
“Well, look,” Kirk said, placing a hand on his friends arm, “whatever happens, take care of yourself.”
“You too,” Kohout replied.
The two men embraced, then parted to begin carrying out their separate duties. Kirk couldn’t shake off the feeling that he wasn’t going to see his best friend again. It was ridiculous. Kohout was a brave and capable security officer, he had seen much more action than Kirk himself had. There was no doubt he could handle himself. Kirk shook his head. Now was not the time to be losing it. If he had any chance of beating this creature then he had to stay sharp and focused. He took one last look at Kohout, then made his way out of the building.
Outside, about a hundred men were lining every inch of the building, all facing outwards, phasers ready for action. Kirk approached his team, which had now grown to a security detachment of twenty-five. Looking down the line of defiant faces, he could sense that they were all apprehensive about what they were facing, but their Starfleet training would not let that apprehension get in the way of each and every man stepping up to the plate when they were needed.
“Men,” Kirk began, feeling the need to offer some words of encouragement, “I realise we have a daunting task ahead of us, but stay alert. Skin your eyes for this devil men, look sharp. If you see but a ripple in the air then cry out. We might only get one shot at this.”
“Aye Sir!” the men all cried.
They didn’t have long to wait before one of the men, at the far eastern end of the line, began to cry out.
“Sir, dikoronium readings registering off to my right.”
Kirk marched quickly down the line, and confirmed the findings with his own tricorder.
“Come alive men! It’s upon us!” Kirk demanded of his team.
Each man stood up to their full height, phaser held solidly in front of them, eyes all pinned on the same point in the distance, waiting…waiting…
A few moments passed, and nothing appeared. Kirk flipped his communicator and called his Captain. “Sir, I think it’s here. Although it doesn’t seem to be showing itself yet.”
From somewhere round the other side of the building, Kirk could hear Garrovick’s voice. “Are the barricades done? Get then finished now, not a moment to lose. Men, go and help them.”
Realising that the colonists inside the bar were still exposed, Kirk sent five of his own men to assist, reducing his number to twenty. He hoped it would be enough.
A heavy silence descended over the group as they waited for the creature to appear. Kirk began to pace up and down his line, here and there shouting encouraging exclamations, or demanding tricorder readings.
“Sir, I’m still reading a large trace of dikoronium,” the officer who had originally called out updated him. “But it doesn’t seem to be getting any closer.”
Kirk’s own tricorder again confirmed the officer’s report. He thought quickly, and finally settled on an answer that chilled him to the bone.
“It’s waiting for us,” Kirk said quietly.
There was no doubt in his mind now that this thing was not only sentient, it was also intelligent.
“What direction do your readings indicate?” he asked the officer.
“Behind that hill over there.”
Kirk began to walk quietly in that direction, signalling with his head for his men to follow. If it was possible for a cloud of gas to understand battle strategy, then it performed what might be referred to as a surprise attack. Waiting until half of the men were already round the hill, it quickly descended over the top, attacking the latter part of the group, and at the same time effectively cutting the forward group off from any reinforcements. As his men were engulfed, Kirk whirled round quickly and opened fire. The rest of his team, most of whom had not seen the beast before, froze to the spot, staring open mouthed at the grizzly spectacle before them, as their comrades fell like a destroyed house of cards.
“Fire men!” Kirk yelled, “For God’s sake fire!”
The call to battle was all that was needed to awaken them from this daze, and seven separate streams of phaser fire, including Kirk’s, burned their way into the cloud, causing it to spark violently. As it dissipated, the secret it had been hiding was revealed, as fourteen bloodless and lifeless men fell to the ground. Kirk called for medical assistance, but he already knew it was too late.
Mere seconds later, or so it felt to Kirk, and more screams came from the direction of the building. Kirk and his remaining men took off at full speed, the corpses having to be discarded where they fell for now, as the urgency of protecting the living took precedence.
As they neared the building, every man stopped. Even Kirk found it hard to comprehend what he was seeing. The cloud seemed to have doubled, maybe even tripled in size, and engulfed the entire building. The anguished, choking cries of hundreds of men filled the air. And James Kirk, outstanding Academy graduate, legendary bester of the Kobayashi Maru, top class crewman, froze. Such was his horror at the hideous sight before him, he found that his mind was empty, his arms pinned limply to his sides.
In reality the time that elapsed was only a few seconds, but to Kirk it felt like a lifetime before he found himself raising his gun, and charging towards this deadly foe, sending stream after stream of phaser fire into it, until his phaser was drained of all power. From somewhere off to his left, Kirk was aware of additional firepower mingling with his own, and eventually the cloud was gone.
The perimeter of the building looked like a battlefield, with fallen comrades strewn across every spare piece of ground. Kirk noticed a group of about ten men walking towards him, including the Captain, First Officer Chenoweth, the Doctor and Security Chief Foley. From behind him, the few remnants of his own team joined the group. Without saying a word, Kirk knew that each and every man there was thinking the same thing that he was, as all eyes were directed towards the building. Silently they made their way over the corpses of their friends and colleagues, and, reaching the barricaded door, pressed their ears to it. When they were unable to discern any signs of life or movement from inside, Foley began to hammer on the metal door.
“Kohout!” he called to his second in command, who was inside the building, and Kirk felt like someone had plunged a knife into his chest.
Chenoweth must have noticed the look of horror that flitted across his face. “The barricade was up, it wouldn’t have gotten through” he said, although he sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.
The dull thud as Foley continued to hammer on the door set Kirk’s nerves on edge, and almost unable to control himself, he found himself throwing his own body violently at the door, in a desperate, consuming need to know what awaited him on the other side. As the others joined him in ramming the door, it eventually gave way and they fell inside. Each man stood, and attempted to survey the scene with the professional sense of detachment that their years aboard a Starship had taught them. It was often said that Starship crewmembers daily witness events that would drive planet dwellers to the edge of their sanity. But nothing in the universe could have prepared them for the horror that lay in front of them.
Every single living soul in the room, Starship crew, colonist, man, woman and child, were fallen onto the floor, the cloud’s hideous death mask fixed onto their features.
Slowly, the Chief Medical Officer began the arduous task of checking every single body for any signs of life. Other crewmembers came to assist him. Kirk joined them in their sad progression amongst the dead, although there was only one life he was seeking out. He found it still lingering, barely, in the body of his best friend.
“Darryl!” he yelled, falling to his knees at the man’s side, his voice breaking with shock and emotion. “Medic, over here now!”
“Jim,” Kohout croaked, taking hold of Kirk’s hands stiffly, “Jim, it’s too late.”
“Don’t say that,” Kirk whispered, tears now falling freely down his cheeks. “You’ll be okay. We’ll get you out of here.”
But Kohout shook his head. “It’s over Jim.”
Kirk closed his eyes, his salty tears dropping onto the bleached face of the dying man now cradled in his arms.
“Jim,” Kohout continued, although the effort to speak was quickly becoming too great for him to manage. “Don’t let it get away. Avenge me Jim, avenge my death.”
Kirk looked into his eyes until they had glazed over white, those final words spinning around in his head.
From somewhere far away he heard a commotion. He looked up, and through tear-blurred eyes could just make out the Captain and First Officer engaging in what appeared to be a struggle.
“Sir, you can’t fight it alone!” Chenoweth was yelling.
“Let me go!” Garrovick screamed in reply. “It won’t get away with this!”
With a final goodbye, and a promise to carry out his dying request, Kirk laid the body of his friend gently on the floor, and then quickly made his way over to the sparring officers.
“He’s not alone,” he announced, standing beside his Captain defiantly.
Garrovick looked at him, and an ocean of understanding passed between them, the need to avenge their friends, the hatred for this creature burning them up inside, consuming them, choking them, like that hellish smell of honey. Garrovick grabbed two phasers from the bodies of two fallen security men and, handing one to Kirk, he marched out of the door, Kirk following closely behind.
Outside, the sun was setting, the skies growing dark, long shadows staining the ground.
“Where would it be?” Garrovick was saying.
From somewhere in the back of Kirk’s mind registered the thought that the darkness would make the cloud almost impossible to see. But he pushed it away. They were circling the perimeter of the building, stepping round and over bodies at every turn. But the air smelt crisp and clear and of the coming of the night.
“The mountains,” Kirk said suddenly. “The tritanium mines. That’s where we first saw it.”
They headed off, the path almost impossible to detect. From memory of this afternoon, Kirk knew that there was a steep drop off to one side, and the loose shards of stone under their feet threatened to send them plummeting over it any minute, as they continuously stumbled and lost their balance. They reached the tritanium mines after a good hours climb, by which time the sky was pitch black, the light from their tricorders the only illumination. Both men were now existing on pure adrenaline, their bodies exhausted, their minds struggling to cope with everything they had seen on this blackest of days. Only their need for revenge on this beast that had wiped out so many of their comrades and friends, kept them going.
“Scanning for dikoronium Sir,” Kirk announced, sweeping his tricorder in wide arcs around their immediate area.
“Look sharp son,” Garrovick said, his voice barely more than a whisper now, the strength needed to make himself heard almost more than he could spare from his depleted reserves.
The night began to grow cold, the stars and planets in the sky above them bright and clear. But still the tricorder gave no readings. Endless moments passed, and Kirk found his mind wandering, to memories of Darryl Kohout, the times they had shared aboard the Farragut, and on shore leave together, and then to the image of him a short while earlier, dying in Kirk’s arms. He closed his eyes to hold back the tears. He needed to focus, and began to count the stars in the sky above him, anything to keep his mind on where he was. But as he watched, the stars began to fade. At first there were thousands, millions of tiny lights twinkling in the endless blackness above him, but one by one they were snuffed out, and replaced with a void of darkness. Kirk only registered what he was seeing seconds before the odour of honey assailed his nostrils.
“It’s here Sir,” he managed to choke out.
But Garrovick was already at the limits of his endurance. “Where?” the Captain yelled, spinning round wildly.
“I…I don’t know Sir” Kirk said.
He looked at his tricorder, but there were still no readings for dikoronium. They may as well have been blindfolded.
“Tell me where it is!” Garrovick was screaming.
Kirk opened fire, spinning in all directions. Garrovick followed suit, but there was not the slightest indication that they had hit their mark. The darkness began to get heavier, more oppressive, the sickly-sweet smell filling Kirk’s mouth, his chest, his lungs. His phaser continued to fire until it was totally depleted of power. From somewhere off to his left, he was aware of his Captain screaming, reaching out. He attempted to take a step towards the stricken man, but the sweet smog was overpowering him. And then darkness became all that he knew.
Kirk tried to open his eyes, but all he could see was light, blinding light. He grimaced, and quickly closed them again.
“Ah, you’re awake,” a voice said.
He opened his eyes again, more slowly this time, and found himself on a biobed, in the familiar sickbay of the USS Farragut. His head throbbed, and he felt like he’d been asleep for days.
The Chief Medical Officer was standing over him, taking readings with his medical scanner. “How do you feel?” he asked.
Kirk thought for a moment, but then suddenly everything came flooding back to him. He attempted to sit up, but felt the Doctors strong hands restraining him.
“Just rest Jim,” he said, “easy now.”
“The Captain,” Kirk choked out, “where’s the Captain?”
The Doctor sighed. “Jim, he’s dead.”
“I have to go back. Let me go back. I have to kill it!” Kirk was muttering, as he struggled to break free of the Doctor’s grip.
“Jim, we warped away from Tycho IV almost two days ago.”
Kirk flopped back down onto the bed, the energy suddenly drained from his body.
“What about the creature?” he whispered.
The Doctor shrugged. “It’s still there I guess.”
“What about the colonists?” Kirk demanded.
“We saved thirty-seven of them. We’re taking them to the nearest Federation Starbase. The rest didn’t make it.”
Kirk closed his eyes. So much death. He instantly felt the weight of responsibility and guilt pressing down on him. Could he have done more to save them?
The First Officers recommendation told the truth, that Kirk had shown tremendous courage and exemplary dedication to his Captain and his crewmates down on Tycho IV. But for Kirk it rung hollow. Deep down, he knew that he’d hesitated before firing at the thing when it was attacking the colony building, giving it the opportunity to pass through the walls and decimate two hundred crewmembers, and almost the same number of colonists. He knew that he’d been too weak when he’d encountered the cloud with his Captain, his loss of consciousness incapacitating him when he was needed the most. He knew with every fibre of his being that the only thing that would lift this great weight from his soul would be to face the creature again, and end it once and for all.
All of his life Kirk had been working towards becoming a Starship Captain. That he would ultimately succeed one day, he had no doubt. And when that day came, he would scour the length and breadth of the galaxy to find the beast once more. He would meet his nemesis again before his life was ended, would once again stare into the heart of darkness. Only this time, he would be ready.
The End
“Here’s what we know so far,” Kirk began.
He was standing in a small room, just off the main colony bar and recreation area, and was briefing his Captain and a handful of senior officers on his experience with the deadly cloud.
“It appears to be some kind of gaseous entity. It registers as a high concentration of dikoronium, and also gives off a sickly sweet odour, like honey, that quickly becomes incredibly claustrophobic. We don’t know if phaser fire causes any permanent damage to it, but it seemed to dissipate it earlier.”
Garrovick stood, and placed a hand on Kirk’s shoulder. “Good work Lieutenant,” he commended hi., “What’s our weapons situation?”
“Most phasers are still at eighty to ninety percent Sir,” Security Officer, and Kirk’s best friend, Darryl Kohout replied.
Garrovick nodded. “Now, we have no idea where this thing will strike next” the Farragut Captain began, pacing up and down the small room as he spoke, his mind calling on all of his battle experience to determine the strategy that would give them the best chance against this thing. “We could spend weeks patrolling every inch of this planet, waiting for a chance encounter. Or, we could draw it to us. If we keep all the people in one place, then it’s going to need to feed eventually. I suggest we hole up the colonists in the bar, with some of the security team, and the rest of us will take the perimeter, build barricades and lie in wait.”
The rest of the men agreed with this plan, and instantly leapt into action to begin carrying out the Captain’s unspoken requests. No-one said anything, but each and every man there knew that they didn’t have a moment to lose.
The colony bar and recreation area was a large, open plan room, with a bar at one end, several small tables and chairs, and at the other end a pool table. Every single one of the one hundred and eighty colonists on the planet had made their way to this building, to hear what the Federation Officers had planned, and to gain a measure of safety from these armed men and women who had come to protect them. Add to this number the remaining two hundred or so members of the Farragut’s landing party, and the large room was becoming incredibly cramped.
Garrovick began to organize his people into groups. A security detail of about a hundred men were to be positioned around the perimeter of the building, to be on the lookout for any signs of the creature. And the rest were given the task of barricading and sealing every inch of the room, to provide a safe hideout for the colonists when the battle began.
Due to him being one of only a small number of people who had so far seen the creature and survived, Kirk was posted to the perimeter detail, and placed in charge of a small team of battle-ready security officers. Darryl Kohout would find himself on the other side of the walls, protecting the colonists from within the barricades, which he was now helping to erect.
As Kirk began to make his way outside, Kohout approached him.
“Hey Jim” he began, the usual confidence in his voice now replaced by a nervousness at the thought of facing this unknown and unseen enemy, “Foley says you saw it. What was it like?”
Kirk thought for a few moments before answering. “Darryl, it just looks so harmless, so innocuous,” he laughed humorlessly. “It’s hard to believe that it could be capable of death and destruction on such a grand scale.”
“But we can beat it, right?” Kohout asked, desperately seeking reassurance from his friend.
Kirk shook his head and sighed deeply. “I hope so,” he replied honestly. “But…how do you fight something that isn’t even solid? Something we can’t even touch? Grab hold of?”
Kohout looked at Kirk silently for a few moments. “I don’t know Jim,” he finally admitted.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kirk could see Chenoweth waving him over, and he realised that, for now at least, he had to say his goodbyes to Kohout.
“Well, look,” Kirk said, placing a hand on his friends arm, “whatever happens, take care of yourself.”
“You too,” Kohout replied.
The two men embraced, then parted to begin carrying out their separate duties. Kirk couldn’t shake off the feeling that he wasn’t going to see his best friend again. It was ridiculous. Kohout was a brave and capable security officer, he had seen much more action than Kirk himself had. There was no doubt he could handle himself. Kirk shook his head. Now was not the time to be losing it. If he had any chance of beating this creature then he had to stay sharp and focused. He took one last look at Kohout, then made his way out of the building.
Outside, about a hundred men were lining every inch of the building, all facing outwards, phasers ready for action. Kirk approached his team, which had now grown to a security detachment of twenty-five. Looking down the line of defiant faces, he could sense that they were all apprehensive about what they were facing, but their Starfleet training would not let that apprehension get in the way of each and every man stepping up to the plate when they were needed.
“Men,” Kirk began, feeling the need to offer some words of encouragement, “I realise we have a daunting task ahead of us, but stay alert. Skin your eyes for this devil men, look sharp. If you see but a ripple in the air then cry out. We might only get one shot at this.”
“Aye Sir!” the men all cried.
They didn’t have long to wait before one of the men, at the far eastern end of the line, began to cry out.
“Sir, dikoronium readings registering off to my right.”
Kirk marched quickly down the line, and confirmed the findings with his own tricorder.
“Come alive men! It’s upon us!” Kirk demanded of his team.
Each man stood up to their full height, phaser held solidly in front of them, eyes all pinned on the same point in the distance, waiting…waiting…
A few moments passed, and nothing appeared. Kirk flipped his communicator and called his Captain. “Sir, I think it’s here. Although it doesn’t seem to be showing itself yet.”
From somewhere round the other side of the building, Kirk could hear Garrovick’s voice. “Are the barricades done? Get then finished now, not a moment to lose. Men, go and help them.”
Realising that the colonists inside the bar were still exposed, Kirk sent five of his own men to assist, reducing his number to twenty. He hoped it would be enough.
A heavy silence descended over the group as they waited for the creature to appear. Kirk began to pace up and down his line, here and there shouting encouraging exclamations, or demanding tricorder readings.
“Sir, I’m still reading a large trace of dikoronium,” the officer who had originally called out updated him. “But it doesn’t seem to be getting any closer.”
Kirk’s own tricorder again confirmed the officer’s report. He thought quickly, and finally settled on an answer that chilled him to the bone.
“It’s waiting for us,” Kirk said quietly.
There was no doubt in his mind now that this thing was not only sentient, it was also intelligent.
“What direction do your readings indicate?” he asked the officer.
“Behind that hill over there.”
Kirk began to walk quietly in that direction, signalling with his head for his men to follow. If it was possible for a cloud of gas to understand battle strategy, then it performed what might be referred to as a surprise attack. Waiting until half of the men were already round the hill, it quickly descended over the top, attacking the latter part of the group, and at the same time effectively cutting the forward group off from any reinforcements. As his men were engulfed, Kirk whirled round quickly and opened fire. The rest of his team, most of whom had not seen the beast before, froze to the spot, staring open mouthed at the grizzly spectacle before them, as their comrades fell like a destroyed house of cards.
“Fire men!” Kirk yelled, “For God’s sake fire!”
The call to battle was all that was needed to awaken them from this daze, and seven separate streams of phaser fire, including Kirk’s, burned their way into the cloud, causing it to spark violently. As it dissipated, the secret it had been hiding was revealed, as fourteen bloodless and lifeless men fell to the ground. Kirk called for medical assistance, but he already knew it was too late.
Mere seconds later, or so it felt to Kirk, and more screams came from the direction of the building. Kirk and his remaining men took off at full speed, the corpses having to be discarded where they fell for now, as the urgency of protecting the living took precedence.
As they neared the building, every man stopped. Even Kirk found it hard to comprehend what he was seeing. The cloud seemed to have doubled, maybe even tripled in size, and engulfed the entire building. The anguished, choking cries of hundreds of men filled the air. And James Kirk, outstanding Academy graduate, legendary bester of the Kobayashi Maru, top class crewman, froze. Such was his horror at the hideous sight before him, he found that his mind was empty, his arms pinned limply to his sides.
In reality the time that elapsed was only a few seconds, but to Kirk it felt like a lifetime before he found himself raising his gun, and charging towards this deadly foe, sending stream after stream of phaser fire into it, until his phaser was drained of all power. From somewhere off to his left, Kirk was aware of additional firepower mingling with his own, and eventually the cloud was gone.
The perimeter of the building looked like a battlefield, with fallen comrades strewn across every spare piece of ground. Kirk noticed a group of about ten men walking towards him, including the Captain, First Officer Chenoweth, the Doctor and Security Chief Foley. From behind him, the few remnants of his own team joined the group. Without saying a word, Kirk knew that each and every man there was thinking the same thing that he was, as all eyes were directed towards the building. Silently they made their way over the corpses of their friends and colleagues, and, reaching the barricaded door, pressed their ears to it. When they were unable to discern any signs of life or movement from inside, Foley began to hammer on the metal door.
“Kohout!” he called to his second in command, who was inside the building, and Kirk felt like someone had plunged a knife into his chest.
Chenoweth must have noticed the look of horror that flitted across his face. “The barricade was up, it wouldn’t have gotten through” he said, although he sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.
The dull thud as Foley continued to hammer on the door set Kirk’s nerves on edge, and almost unable to control himself, he found himself throwing his own body violently at the door, in a desperate, consuming need to know what awaited him on the other side. As the others joined him in ramming the door, it eventually gave way and they fell inside. Each man stood, and attempted to survey the scene with the professional sense of detachment that their years aboard a Starship had taught them. It was often said that Starship crewmembers daily witness events that would drive planet dwellers to the edge of their sanity. But nothing in the universe could have prepared them for the horror that lay in front of them.
Every single living soul in the room, Starship crew, colonist, man, woman and child, were fallen onto the floor, the cloud’s hideous death mask fixed onto their features.
Slowly, the Chief Medical Officer began the arduous task of checking every single body for any signs of life. Other crewmembers came to assist him. Kirk joined them in their sad progression amongst the dead, although there was only one life he was seeking out. He found it still lingering, barely, in the body of his best friend.
“Darryl!” he yelled, falling to his knees at the man’s side, his voice breaking with shock and emotion. “Medic, over here now!”
“Jim,” Kohout croaked, taking hold of Kirk’s hands stiffly, “Jim, it’s too late.”
“Don’t say that,” Kirk whispered, tears now falling freely down his cheeks. “You’ll be okay. We’ll get you out of here.”
But Kohout shook his head. “It’s over Jim.”
Kirk closed his eyes, his salty tears dropping onto the bleached face of the dying man now cradled in his arms.
“Jim,” Kohout continued, although the effort to speak was quickly becoming too great for him to manage. “Don’t let it get away. Avenge me Jim, avenge my death.”
Kirk looked into his eyes until they had glazed over white, those final words spinning around in his head.
From somewhere far away he heard a commotion. He looked up, and through tear-blurred eyes could just make out the Captain and First Officer engaging in what appeared to be a struggle.
“Sir, you can’t fight it alone!” Chenoweth was yelling.
“Let me go!” Garrovick screamed in reply. “It won’t get away with this!”
With a final goodbye, and a promise to carry out his dying request, Kirk laid the body of his friend gently on the floor, and then quickly made his way over to the sparring officers.
“He’s not alone,” he announced, standing beside his Captain defiantly.
Garrovick looked at him, and an ocean of understanding passed between them, the need to avenge their friends, the hatred for this creature burning them up inside, consuming them, choking them, like that hellish smell of honey. Garrovick grabbed two phasers from the bodies of two fallen security men and, handing one to Kirk, he marched out of the door, Kirk following closely behind.
Outside, the sun was setting, the skies growing dark, long shadows staining the ground.
“Where would it be?” Garrovick was saying.
From somewhere in the back of Kirk’s mind registered the thought that the darkness would make the cloud almost impossible to see. But he pushed it away. They were circling the perimeter of the building, stepping round and over bodies at every turn. But the air smelt crisp and clear and of the coming of the night.
“The mountains,” Kirk said suddenly. “The tritanium mines. That’s where we first saw it.”
They headed off, the path almost impossible to detect. From memory of this afternoon, Kirk knew that there was a steep drop off to one side, and the loose shards of stone under their feet threatened to send them plummeting over it any minute, as they continuously stumbled and lost their balance. They reached the tritanium mines after a good hours climb, by which time the sky was pitch black, the light from their tricorders the only illumination. Both men were now existing on pure adrenaline, their bodies exhausted, their minds struggling to cope with everything they had seen on this blackest of days. Only their need for revenge on this beast that had wiped out so many of their comrades and friends, kept them going.
“Scanning for dikoronium Sir,” Kirk announced, sweeping his tricorder in wide arcs around their immediate area.
“Look sharp son,” Garrovick said, his voice barely more than a whisper now, the strength needed to make himself heard almost more than he could spare from his depleted reserves.
The night began to grow cold, the stars and planets in the sky above them bright and clear. But still the tricorder gave no readings. Endless moments passed, and Kirk found his mind wandering, to memories of Darryl Kohout, the times they had shared aboard the Farragut, and on shore leave together, and then to the image of him a short while earlier, dying in Kirk’s arms. He closed his eyes to hold back the tears. He needed to focus, and began to count the stars in the sky above him, anything to keep his mind on where he was. But as he watched, the stars began to fade. At first there were thousands, millions of tiny lights twinkling in the endless blackness above him, but one by one they were snuffed out, and replaced with a void of darkness. Kirk only registered what he was seeing seconds before the odour of honey assailed his nostrils.
“It’s here Sir,” he managed to choke out.
But Garrovick was already at the limits of his endurance. “Where?” the Captain yelled, spinning round wildly.
“I…I don’t know Sir” Kirk said.
He looked at his tricorder, but there were still no readings for dikoronium. They may as well have been blindfolded.
“Tell me where it is!” Garrovick was screaming.
Kirk opened fire, spinning in all directions. Garrovick followed suit, but there was not the slightest indication that they had hit their mark. The darkness began to get heavier, more oppressive, the sickly-sweet smell filling Kirk’s mouth, his chest, his lungs. His phaser continued to fire until it was totally depleted of power. From somewhere off to his left, he was aware of his Captain screaming, reaching out. He attempted to take a step towards the stricken man, but the sweet smog was overpowering him. And then darkness became all that he knew.
Kirk tried to open his eyes, but all he could see was light, blinding light. He grimaced, and quickly closed them again.
“Ah, you’re awake,” a voice said.
He opened his eyes again, more slowly this time, and found himself on a biobed, in the familiar sickbay of the USS Farragut. His head throbbed, and he felt like he’d been asleep for days.
The Chief Medical Officer was standing over him, taking readings with his medical scanner. “How do you feel?” he asked.
Kirk thought for a moment, but then suddenly everything came flooding back to him. He attempted to sit up, but felt the Doctors strong hands restraining him.
“Just rest Jim,” he said, “easy now.”
“The Captain,” Kirk choked out, “where’s the Captain?”
The Doctor sighed. “Jim, he’s dead.”
“I have to go back. Let me go back. I have to kill it!” Kirk was muttering, as he struggled to break free of the Doctor’s grip.
“Jim, we warped away from Tycho IV almost two days ago.”
Kirk flopped back down onto the bed, the energy suddenly drained from his body.
“What about the creature?” he whispered.
The Doctor shrugged. “It’s still there I guess.”
“What about the colonists?” Kirk demanded.
“We saved thirty-seven of them. We’re taking them to the nearest Federation Starbase. The rest didn’t make it.”
Kirk closed his eyes. So much death. He instantly felt the weight of responsibility and guilt pressing down on him. Could he have done more to save them?
The First Officers recommendation told the truth, that Kirk had shown tremendous courage and exemplary dedication to his Captain and his crewmates down on Tycho IV. But for Kirk it rung hollow. Deep down, he knew that he’d hesitated before firing at the thing when it was attacking the colony building, giving it the opportunity to pass through the walls and decimate two hundred crewmembers, and almost the same number of colonists. He knew that he’d been too weak when he’d encountered the cloud with his Captain, his loss of consciousness incapacitating him when he was needed the most. He knew with every fibre of his being that the only thing that would lift this great weight from his soul would be to face the creature again, and end it once and for all.
All of his life Kirk had been working towards becoming a Starship Captain. That he would ultimately succeed one day, he had no doubt. And when that day came, he would scour the length and breadth of the galaxy to find the beast once more. He would meet his nemesis again before his life was ended, would once again stare into the heart of darkness. Only this time, he would be ready.
The End
Seeds of Obsession (a prequel to the Star Trek episode "Obsession") - Part 1
by Sharon Miller
A vampire. That was how the colonists on Tycho IV had described the monster that had so far killed five of their people. Captain Garrovick knew that vampires belonged in ancient works of Terran fiction, along with werewolves and Bigfoot. But something had killed those colonists, had drained the bodies of every red blood corpuscle, and left the corpses looking as pale and lifeless as an android.
On the orders of Starfleet Command, the Starship USS Farragut had been sent to investigate, but they had nothing to go on. The attacks had so far all happened to males, alone, in the hills, mining the rich tritanium deposits that the planet had been so contested for. The colony had settled on the planet only sixteen months previous, with the sole purpose of mining those deposits and supplying other Federation civilisations with the highly prized mineral. Many battles had so far been fought to keep the planet out of the hands of the Klingons, and after all the lives that had already been lost ensuing that success, the Federation had no intention of now losing the mining personnel to an ancient mythical creature that only existed in fairy stories.
At the helm of the massive Starship, chief navigator Lieutenant James Kirk competently worked the controls at his station, and settled the Farragut into a comfortable orbit around the planet. Kirk’s exemplary record at Starfleet Academy had preceded him on his first deep space mission, and so far, Captain Garrovick had been unequivocally impressed with the young navigator. Academy legend told that Kirk had been the first cadet ever to beat the notorious Kobayashi Maru test, evidence which would help pave the way to his becoming a Captain himself one day. But not yet. Right now, he still had so much to learn about how to put his tremendous Academy knowledge into practice.
“We are in orbit around Tycho IV Sir,” Kirk announced confidently to his Captain.
Garrovick smiled, having expected no less than the most textbook of maneuvers from the Lieutenant.
“Good work Lieutenant.”
Garrovick then turned to his communications officer, and requested that they open a channel so that he could speak to the head of the Colonists, and notify them of the Starship’s arrival.
Formalities dispensed with quickly, and with the added burden of knowledge that yet another death had occurred that very morning, Garrovick began the task of organising a landing party. He made the unprecedented move of taking over half his security team down to the surface with him, along with an assortment of medical and scientific personnel. Lieutenant Kirk, although not assigned to a department essential to the immediate operations, volunteered himself immediately. Garrovick readily agreed. Although Kirk’s proper place was, of course, at the Farragut’s helm, the Captain was of the firm belief that it did all men good to see some battle action now and again. It kept them alert and focused, kept their nerves strong and their wits sharp. If indeed it did descend into a combat situation down on the planets surface, it would be Kirk’s first taste of fighting, but Garrovick had no doubt in his mind that he was ready.
Chief Engineer Lance McQuiggan was given command of the bridge, with an order to be on the lookout for any Klingon ships, who might see a visiting Federation vessel as a call to arms.
“If you get even a hint of trouble with any Klingons, then I want you to get the ship out of here,” Garrovick demanded. “Don’t worry about the landing party. We can take care of ourselves. The safety of this vessel is your top priority.”
McQuiggan agreed to this order, and the two hundred and fifteen souls that made up the landing party began the process of beaming down.
As Kirk stood on the transporter platform, his best friend, security officer Darryl Kohout, at his side, he felt a mix of fear, excitement and anticipation. Kirk had been a member of a landing party several times before, but never into such a hostile situation as this. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and focus on the task ahead. At his side, he could tell that his friend was feeling the same emotions.
The surface of Tycho IV was an unforgiving environment, hot, humid and dusty, with hard earth and treacherously jagged rock formations at every turn. Kirk was in the six man team that included the Captain and First Officer Art Chenoweth. While Kohout stayed at the transportation site with the chief of security, Foley, to co-ordinate the rest of the landing personnel, Kirk followed his Captain to rendezvous with the colonists.
The party walked quickly towards a small cluster of buildings. Built out of the plentiful, natural rock, the dwellings were functional, but were home to over seventy families of men, women and children who had settled here. They were met on their approach by the colonists unofficial leader, Avery Briggs.
“Captain Garrovick,” the short, round man said, extending a hand. “Thank you for coming. Let’s get straight to the point, no time to lose. What do you need from me?”
“It would be useful if you could show our chief medical officer the bodies of the victims,” Garrovick requested.
Avery nodded, and led the Doctor off to an adjacent building, with instructions for the remaining crew to make themselves at home.
Garrovick and his men spent the next couple of hours talking to the colonists, attempting to discover any and all information they had about the deaths and who or what might be responsible, but it seemed that there was no information to be shared.
Eventually, the crew had no choice but to set out on the search for the creature blind. With no details of what form it took, how they would recognise it, or where it could be found, Garrovick organised his men into small parties of five, in order that they could effectively cover a wider surface area of the planet in a shorter time.
Kirk was placed in charge of a team of four security officers, and told to investigate the site of the latest killing. Slowly the men made their way up into the mountains. The going was tough, the climb steep and the ground jagged and uneven beneath their feet. The hot sun blazing down on them drained them quickly of energy. But Kirk was a natural leader, and managed to bolster the spirits of his team effectively.
At the entrance to the tritanium mines the group stopped. Kirk made several passes over the area with his tricorder, but was unable to detect anything unusual. He contacted the Captain to provide a status update.
“Kirk here,” he spoke into his communicator. “We have arrived at the mining site, but can find no evidence of the creature. We will continue to investigate the surrounding area.”
“Good work Kirk,” Garrovick commended. “Keep me posted of anything at all that you see.”
Kirk organized his team to split and head off in different directions to make a full search.
“Stay alert men,” he told them. “We still have no idea what we’re dealing with here.”
Kirk took his own section and made further tricorder readings, but it was all fruitless. The sun’s heat was relentless, and only served to increase Kirk’s feeling of complete helplessness at the situation. How were they meant to fight a creature that they didn’t know anything about, and that most of the crew felt didn’t even exist anyway? The seemingly fantastical description of this vampiric monster by the colonists had resulted in certain members of the Farragut’s crew suggesting that they look closer to the colonists themselves for the identity of the killer. Attempting to coax full diligence from men who believed they were being sent on a wild goose chase was not an easy task, but it was a reflection of Kirk’s strength as a leader that his own team supported him fully.
The men eventually regrouped and reported their non-eventful findings. Kirk thought fast to determine his next steps.
“Okay men, what we need to do is…”
His sentence was silenced prematurely by the sound of an agonized scream piercing the air, and echoing round the mine area hauntingly. Kirk sprang to action immediately, quickly determining the direction of the sound and charging over there, his team hot on his heels.
“Be ready for anything men!” Kirk called over his shoulder, as he agilely leaped down the mountain side, his phaser ready and set to kill.
Rounding an outcropping, Kirk was brought to an immediate stop, feeling like he had just been winded with a fist to the stomach. Before him on the hard ground, lay science officer Holland and his own team. The blood had been drained from their bodies as surely as the last breath had been depleted from their lungs. All except Holland, who somehow was managing to cling to the last remnants of his life. Kirk was on his knees at the man’s side instantly.
“Kirk” Holland croaked, weakly reaching up to him.
“Just relax,” Kirk told him calmly. “I’m going to get some medical help.”
Kirk used his communicator to request immediate medical assistance, providing their location the best that he could considering their featureless surroundings. Turning back to the stricken science officer he cradled the man’s head gently.
“It’s going to be okay Holland,” he reassured the dying man. Kirk knew that he had no choice but to ask the next question. Had their immediate predicaments been reversed, the science officer would surely have demanded the same of Kirk. “Holland,” he began softly, “did you get a look at it? Can you tell us anything about it?”
“We didn’t see it,” he whispered, “but we smelt it.”
Kirk frowned.
“The smell,” Holland continued, seemingly reliving the attack as his memories came flooding back. “Oh God, it smelt like…like honey. It smothered us, choked us.”
“It’s okay,” Kirk soothed him, “You’re safe now.”
But as the medical officer arrived on the scene, Kirk already knew that he was too late. A sweep of the Doctor’s medical scanner confirmed it.
Kirk stood, and walked a few paces away from the group to regain his composure and organize his thoughts. Holland had been a good officer, and an even better friend. Kirk began to feel a deep sense of anger and hatred towards this creature. If he allowed it to, it would be enough to consume him fully. He had to control himself. They’d already lost five good officers, they couldn’t afford to lose any more.
He contacted the Captain again. “Sir, Holland and his team have been found dead. They were able to tell us that the creature has a sweet odour, like honey. So far that’s the best thing we have to go on.”
Kirk gathered his men once more, and along with the Doctor and his team they began a search of the area, in the chance that the creature was still nearby.
Kirk was making a tricorder pass of his surroundings when he noticed that there were high readings for dikoronium. He walked over to the Doctor.
“What do you make of this?” he asked, “Dikoronium.”
The medical officer raised an eyebrow. “Dikoronium is only known to exist in laboratories.”
Kirk nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”
The debate was interrupted as Kirk suddenly became aware of a strange odour in the air. He grabbed the medics arm reflexively. “Can you smell that?” he asked.
The medic sniffed at the air, his eyes growing wide. “Yeah, it smells like, like…”
“Honey,” Kirk stated, the implications of that statement hitting both men immediately.
Kirk waved all of his men back to him. In a low voice he said to them all, “It’s here. Look alive men. Phasers on kill.”
Backs together, the men made a wide circle, phasers cocked and aimed, senses on full alert.
“I don’t see anything sir,” one of the security men said nervously.
“Maybe it’s invisible,” another offered.
Kirk made a further tricorder reading. “The dikoronium readings are getting stronger, and coming from right behind that rocky outcrop there.”
He pointed in front of him, and nine pairs of eyes followed his finger and locked on target. As they all watched, a strange mist began to move slowly around the corner. On the surface it looked like a cloud of gas, but there was something about it that told every single man there to keep their guard up. As the cloud cleared the outcrop, and came to rest in front of them, Kirk estimated it to be about two meters wide, incredibly dense and…something else…sentient almost. The odour of honey began to overpower the men, and a couple of them began to gag. As yet, all phasers had remained silent, most of the men stunned into submission by the strange sight in front of them. But as the cloud began to edge to within inches of the group, Kirk opened fire, and sent a steady stream of phaser fire into the thing. Around him, the rest of his team came alive, followed his lead and emptied their own phasers into it. The cloud moved back slightly, lingered for a few more seconds, and then dissipated. Kirk immediately hailed Captain Garrovick.
“Kirk here Sir. We’ve just seen it. Sir, it appears to be some kind of gaseous entity.”
“Kirk, get your team back to the colony outpost, we need to beam out of here, get back to the ship, gather more weapons, rethink our strategy.”
“Yes Captain,” Kirk replied, a slight sense of relief washing over him that he would soon be back on the Farragut.
He began leading his men back towards the colony buildings. The journey was short, but each and every man in the party kept a constant vigil over his shoulder for any sign of the cloud re-appearing. They marched in silence, phasers still at the ready, every single muscle tensed, prepared to leap into action in a heartbeat. Their combined sense of relief as they came upon the small outpost once more was palpable.
As Kirk approached, he saw that Garrovick and a good number of the Farragut’s large away team were already there. Garrovick and Chenoweth headed over to him immediately.
“We’ve lost ten more men,” Garrovick stated. “This thing is just picking us off one by one. We need to do some proper research, recharge phasers, maybe even collect some more reinforcements” the Captain said quickly.
But as he reached for his communicator, it was already singing out for attention. “Garrovick” the Captain answered it. He immediately heard the panicked voice of chief Engineer Lance McQuiggan.
“Sir, we’re under attack!” the engineer yelled. “Four Klingon vessels. Came out of nowhere. We’re being hit by some heavy fire. Shields already down to sixty percent.”
Garrovick closed his eyes for a second, and offered up a silent plea to whichever deity he drew strength from in a time like this. “Get the ship out of there” he finally commanded, “Evasive maneuvers, whatever you need to do to protect the ship, even warp maneuvers if you need to.”
“Yes Captain,” McQuiggan responded, immediately terminating the conversation and returning to his own battle.
Garrovick took a long, deep breath, and then looked from Kirk to his First Officer.
“We’re on our own.”
A vampire. That was how the colonists on Tycho IV had described the monster that had so far killed five of their people. Captain Garrovick knew that vampires belonged in ancient works of Terran fiction, along with werewolves and Bigfoot. But something had killed those colonists, had drained the bodies of every red blood corpuscle, and left the corpses looking as pale and lifeless as an android.
On the orders of Starfleet Command, the Starship USS Farragut had been sent to investigate, but they had nothing to go on. The attacks had so far all happened to males, alone, in the hills, mining the rich tritanium deposits that the planet had been so contested for. The colony had settled on the planet only sixteen months previous, with the sole purpose of mining those deposits and supplying other Federation civilisations with the highly prized mineral. Many battles had so far been fought to keep the planet out of the hands of the Klingons, and after all the lives that had already been lost ensuing that success, the Federation had no intention of now losing the mining personnel to an ancient mythical creature that only existed in fairy stories.
At the helm of the massive Starship, chief navigator Lieutenant James Kirk competently worked the controls at his station, and settled the Farragut into a comfortable orbit around the planet. Kirk’s exemplary record at Starfleet Academy had preceded him on his first deep space mission, and so far, Captain Garrovick had been unequivocally impressed with the young navigator. Academy legend told that Kirk had been the first cadet ever to beat the notorious Kobayashi Maru test, evidence which would help pave the way to his becoming a Captain himself one day. But not yet. Right now, he still had so much to learn about how to put his tremendous Academy knowledge into practice.
“We are in orbit around Tycho IV Sir,” Kirk announced confidently to his Captain.
Garrovick smiled, having expected no less than the most textbook of maneuvers from the Lieutenant.
“Good work Lieutenant.”
Garrovick then turned to his communications officer, and requested that they open a channel so that he could speak to the head of the Colonists, and notify them of the Starship’s arrival.
Formalities dispensed with quickly, and with the added burden of knowledge that yet another death had occurred that very morning, Garrovick began the task of organising a landing party. He made the unprecedented move of taking over half his security team down to the surface with him, along with an assortment of medical and scientific personnel. Lieutenant Kirk, although not assigned to a department essential to the immediate operations, volunteered himself immediately. Garrovick readily agreed. Although Kirk’s proper place was, of course, at the Farragut’s helm, the Captain was of the firm belief that it did all men good to see some battle action now and again. It kept them alert and focused, kept their nerves strong and their wits sharp. If indeed it did descend into a combat situation down on the planets surface, it would be Kirk’s first taste of fighting, but Garrovick had no doubt in his mind that he was ready.
Chief Engineer Lance McQuiggan was given command of the bridge, with an order to be on the lookout for any Klingon ships, who might see a visiting Federation vessel as a call to arms.
“If you get even a hint of trouble with any Klingons, then I want you to get the ship out of here,” Garrovick demanded. “Don’t worry about the landing party. We can take care of ourselves. The safety of this vessel is your top priority.”
McQuiggan agreed to this order, and the two hundred and fifteen souls that made up the landing party began the process of beaming down.
As Kirk stood on the transporter platform, his best friend, security officer Darryl Kohout, at his side, he felt a mix of fear, excitement and anticipation. Kirk had been a member of a landing party several times before, but never into such a hostile situation as this. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and focus on the task ahead. At his side, he could tell that his friend was feeling the same emotions.
The surface of Tycho IV was an unforgiving environment, hot, humid and dusty, with hard earth and treacherously jagged rock formations at every turn. Kirk was in the six man team that included the Captain and First Officer Art Chenoweth. While Kohout stayed at the transportation site with the chief of security, Foley, to co-ordinate the rest of the landing personnel, Kirk followed his Captain to rendezvous with the colonists.
The party walked quickly towards a small cluster of buildings. Built out of the plentiful, natural rock, the dwellings were functional, but were home to over seventy families of men, women and children who had settled here. They were met on their approach by the colonists unofficial leader, Avery Briggs.
“Captain Garrovick,” the short, round man said, extending a hand. “Thank you for coming. Let’s get straight to the point, no time to lose. What do you need from me?”
“It would be useful if you could show our chief medical officer the bodies of the victims,” Garrovick requested.
Avery nodded, and led the Doctor off to an adjacent building, with instructions for the remaining crew to make themselves at home.
Garrovick and his men spent the next couple of hours talking to the colonists, attempting to discover any and all information they had about the deaths and who or what might be responsible, but it seemed that there was no information to be shared.
Eventually, the crew had no choice but to set out on the search for the creature blind. With no details of what form it took, how they would recognise it, or where it could be found, Garrovick organised his men into small parties of five, in order that they could effectively cover a wider surface area of the planet in a shorter time.
Kirk was placed in charge of a team of four security officers, and told to investigate the site of the latest killing. Slowly the men made their way up into the mountains. The going was tough, the climb steep and the ground jagged and uneven beneath their feet. The hot sun blazing down on them drained them quickly of energy. But Kirk was a natural leader, and managed to bolster the spirits of his team effectively.
At the entrance to the tritanium mines the group stopped. Kirk made several passes over the area with his tricorder, but was unable to detect anything unusual. He contacted the Captain to provide a status update.
“Kirk here,” he spoke into his communicator. “We have arrived at the mining site, but can find no evidence of the creature. We will continue to investigate the surrounding area.”
“Good work Kirk,” Garrovick commended. “Keep me posted of anything at all that you see.”
Kirk organized his team to split and head off in different directions to make a full search.
“Stay alert men,” he told them. “We still have no idea what we’re dealing with here.”
Kirk took his own section and made further tricorder readings, but it was all fruitless. The sun’s heat was relentless, and only served to increase Kirk’s feeling of complete helplessness at the situation. How were they meant to fight a creature that they didn’t know anything about, and that most of the crew felt didn’t even exist anyway? The seemingly fantastical description of this vampiric monster by the colonists had resulted in certain members of the Farragut’s crew suggesting that they look closer to the colonists themselves for the identity of the killer. Attempting to coax full diligence from men who believed they were being sent on a wild goose chase was not an easy task, but it was a reflection of Kirk’s strength as a leader that his own team supported him fully.
The men eventually regrouped and reported their non-eventful findings. Kirk thought fast to determine his next steps.
“Okay men, what we need to do is…”
His sentence was silenced prematurely by the sound of an agonized scream piercing the air, and echoing round the mine area hauntingly. Kirk sprang to action immediately, quickly determining the direction of the sound and charging over there, his team hot on his heels.
“Be ready for anything men!” Kirk called over his shoulder, as he agilely leaped down the mountain side, his phaser ready and set to kill.
Rounding an outcropping, Kirk was brought to an immediate stop, feeling like he had just been winded with a fist to the stomach. Before him on the hard ground, lay science officer Holland and his own team. The blood had been drained from their bodies as surely as the last breath had been depleted from their lungs. All except Holland, who somehow was managing to cling to the last remnants of his life. Kirk was on his knees at the man’s side instantly.
“Kirk” Holland croaked, weakly reaching up to him.
“Just relax,” Kirk told him calmly. “I’m going to get some medical help.”
Kirk used his communicator to request immediate medical assistance, providing their location the best that he could considering their featureless surroundings. Turning back to the stricken science officer he cradled the man’s head gently.
“It’s going to be okay Holland,” he reassured the dying man. Kirk knew that he had no choice but to ask the next question. Had their immediate predicaments been reversed, the science officer would surely have demanded the same of Kirk. “Holland,” he began softly, “did you get a look at it? Can you tell us anything about it?”
“We didn’t see it,” he whispered, “but we smelt it.”
Kirk frowned.
“The smell,” Holland continued, seemingly reliving the attack as his memories came flooding back. “Oh God, it smelt like…like honey. It smothered us, choked us.”
“It’s okay,” Kirk soothed him, “You’re safe now.”
But as the medical officer arrived on the scene, Kirk already knew that he was too late. A sweep of the Doctor’s medical scanner confirmed it.
Kirk stood, and walked a few paces away from the group to regain his composure and organize his thoughts. Holland had been a good officer, and an even better friend. Kirk began to feel a deep sense of anger and hatred towards this creature. If he allowed it to, it would be enough to consume him fully. He had to control himself. They’d already lost five good officers, they couldn’t afford to lose any more.
He contacted the Captain again. “Sir, Holland and his team have been found dead. They were able to tell us that the creature has a sweet odour, like honey. So far that’s the best thing we have to go on.”
Kirk gathered his men once more, and along with the Doctor and his team they began a search of the area, in the chance that the creature was still nearby.
Kirk was making a tricorder pass of his surroundings when he noticed that there were high readings for dikoronium. He walked over to the Doctor.
“What do you make of this?” he asked, “Dikoronium.”
The medical officer raised an eyebrow. “Dikoronium is only known to exist in laboratories.”
Kirk nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”
The debate was interrupted as Kirk suddenly became aware of a strange odour in the air. He grabbed the medics arm reflexively. “Can you smell that?” he asked.
The medic sniffed at the air, his eyes growing wide. “Yeah, it smells like, like…”
“Honey,” Kirk stated, the implications of that statement hitting both men immediately.
Kirk waved all of his men back to him. In a low voice he said to them all, “It’s here. Look alive men. Phasers on kill.”
Backs together, the men made a wide circle, phasers cocked and aimed, senses on full alert.
“I don’t see anything sir,” one of the security men said nervously.
“Maybe it’s invisible,” another offered.
Kirk made a further tricorder reading. “The dikoronium readings are getting stronger, and coming from right behind that rocky outcrop there.”
He pointed in front of him, and nine pairs of eyes followed his finger and locked on target. As they all watched, a strange mist began to move slowly around the corner. On the surface it looked like a cloud of gas, but there was something about it that told every single man there to keep their guard up. As the cloud cleared the outcrop, and came to rest in front of them, Kirk estimated it to be about two meters wide, incredibly dense and…something else…sentient almost. The odour of honey began to overpower the men, and a couple of them began to gag. As yet, all phasers had remained silent, most of the men stunned into submission by the strange sight in front of them. But as the cloud began to edge to within inches of the group, Kirk opened fire, and sent a steady stream of phaser fire into the thing. Around him, the rest of his team came alive, followed his lead and emptied their own phasers into it. The cloud moved back slightly, lingered for a few more seconds, and then dissipated. Kirk immediately hailed Captain Garrovick.
“Kirk here Sir. We’ve just seen it. Sir, it appears to be some kind of gaseous entity.”
“Kirk, get your team back to the colony outpost, we need to beam out of here, get back to the ship, gather more weapons, rethink our strategy.”
“Yes Captain,” Kirk replied, a slight sense of relief washing over him that he would soon be back on the Farragut.
He began leading his men back towards the colony buildings. The journey was short, but each and every man in the party kept a constant vigil over his shoulder for any sign of the cloud re-appearing. They marched in silence, phasers still at the ready, every single muscle tensed, prepared to leap into action in a heartbeat. Their combined sense of relief as they came upon the small outpost once more was palpable.
As Kirk approached, he saw that Garrovick and a good number of the Farragut’s large away team were already there. Garrovick and Chenoweth headed over to him immediately.
“We’ve lost ten more men,” Garrovick stated. “This thing is just picking us off one by one. We need to do some proper research, recharge phasers, maybe even collect some more reinforcements” the Captain said quickly.
But as he reached for his communicator, it was already singing out for attention. “Garrovick” the Captain answered it. He immediately heard the panicked voice of chief Engineer Lance McQuiggan.
“Sir, we’re under attack!” the engineer yelled. “Four Klingon vessels. Came out of nowhere. We’re being hit by some heavy fire. Shields already down to sixty percent.”
Garrovick closed his eyes for a second, and offered up a silent plea to whichever deity he drew strength from in a time like this. “Get the ship out of there” he finally commanded, “Evasive maneuvers, whatever you need to do to protect the ship, even warp maneuvers if you need to.”
“Yes Captain,” McQuiggan responded, immediately terminating the conversation and returning to his own battle.
Garrovick took a long, deep breath, and then looked from Kirk to his First Officer.
“We’re on our own.”
Monday 30 November 2009
To Boldly Go...
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