USS
Galaxy:The Next Generation Sim Log Stardate: 50212.24 - 50212.31 |
The Math!
It had its hold on Lysander again. Whirling vertices of probability filled every nook and cranny of his mind with their interlocking outcomes and options. Numbers flitted like crystal gnats though the fields of formuleas between his ears.
THE MATH!
"Smeg the Princess, I am the cats nipples!" Lysander told the bridge, none of whom paid him any attention whatsoever.
"Destroy every ship in this sector, Crewman!" the Kelvan shouted, unnecessarily.
"YES! For the Princess! errr.... what was her name again? Lucy? Esmerelda? Lu-Anne? " Shouted Lysander back, before he was distracted by computing the possible permutations of the word 'Kelvan" in a numerical anagram.
"NO!!!!! You will not tell me what I am!" The Kelvan shouted, interrupting Lysander's rapt concentration on the vertices of the Tholian Web that was cutting USS Galaxy off from the rest of the Universe.
"errr.. I say..." Lysander began, turning to Sendi Soleri... who was no longer there.
Behind Lysander, an engineering console exploded, and a woman cried out as she was sent sprawling to the deck, covered in third-degree burns.
"Errr.... really!!!.... that moves five fields of probility seven decimal places...." Lysander nattered.
Somthing flashed in the corner of his eye, and the Main Viewscreen showered teh Bridge with a splintered light, as its image reacted to something impacting its projection field.
++PULSED PHASER CANNON ONLINE AND AT NINETY-SEVEN PERCENT OPERATIONAL PRE_CHARGE.++ the computer announced.
Lysander stared at the screen, oblivious to the Medics attending to the Kelvan and the Andorian. His hands danced over Rebecca's custom interfaces , seemingly without the direct contact of his mind.
"THIS ONE WILL SUFFICE." Lysander suddenly announced to the Bridge.
"NOISE!....NOISE! GO! AWAY!" he continued, eyes slack and mouth subvocalising his chant and he bypassed the Fire Control Computers and laid in a targeting Search and lock manually.
Federation Starship Targeting systems are mostly automated for a reason. The necessary computations strain even the Battle computers, no sentinent beings really can keep up with them. Even Bynars are hard pressed to follow three- dimensional starship combat at sublight speeds, let alone the targeting and tactical options available. And the speed of phasers salvoes are usually at light speed.. even Photon torps travel at speeds no bare eyes could see and react to in time.
Except Lysander and Rebecca. Both had an idiot-savaunt grasp of higher Math that would allow them to do things with a TActical Arch that sometimes confused the computers.
"He's channeling the Tholians!" someone whispered.
"GO! FAR! OURS! HERE IS OURS!" Lysander chanted.
++TARGET ACQUIRED. READY TO FIRE PULSED PHASER CANNON AT USS DEFIANT++ the computer informed everyone.
[OOC Warning: Like last time, there's some uncomfortable imagery and suggestions in this piece. Nothing actually happens, but I wanted to lay the warning out anyway.]
****
The slow buildup of heat in the back of Victor's mind continued as he growled and paused in his pounding at the surface in front of him, panting from his exertions. ~ Got to be a way... got to. Can't let him hurt anyone. Have to stop him... Damn I'm hot.... ~ He looked down at the EVA suit he was wearing and paused. ~ What the hell? ~
A quick examination showed that he was indeed wearing the EVA suit he'd donned on the Galaxy and worn during the investigations aboard the Defiant - or an exact duplicate of it - down to the stowed equipment and the old-style Phaser 1 he'd purloined from the Armory. ~ Dammit, I took this thing off - I know I did! What the hell is going on? ~
His head snapped back up, looking at his reflection inside the Observation Lounge. ~ If I'm wearing the EVA suit, then... this isn't real? It isn't happening? ~ He looked at himself again, examining his hand where his reflection had caused the stab wound to appear and then turning to look at his surroundings. ~ Is this real? ~
The misty gray world in which he was imprisoned stretched off out of sight, but as he really looked at it for the first time, he began to see a sort of form to the mists. They swooped and swirled in a pattern that slowly resolved itself into the structural walls, floors and ceilings of the Defiant. The reflective surfaces, some brighter and clearer and more regularly-shaped than others - like the one in front of him - suddenly were seen for what they were: the various reflective spots and surfaces that were part of the Defiant's physical structure. The one in front of him was the reflection from the inner surface of the Observation deck window, the one behind him was the reflection from the outer side that faced onto the Shuttlebay, the smaller and more distorted ones were from pieces of furniture with glossy surfaces, polished metal parts of the ship, and so on. Through some of them, Victor caught hints of movement as fellow Galaxy crewmen moved about their tasks.
~ No... this is too complicated to be an illusion. Too many things moving, too many angles to cover, too many possibilities for it to fall apart. Unless this ... thing... is a Q, he couldn't make it all up on the spur of the moment - and if he were a Q, he wouldn't have to. ~ Victor looked down at his hands. ~ It's real It's the simplest explanation. So why the EVA suit? Why put me back in the... ~ His head snapped up. ~ The reflection! It's playing another sick-assed little game. If it has on a uniform, and I have the EVA suit on, then since I'm his reflection it appears to have the suit on. That way they can tell us apart... But why? ~
He looked up, his hands tingling as if he were running them over a slightly rough, textured surface. His reflection was bent over O'Rourke, hands out of sight from Victor's perspective, O'Rourke twisting in an attempt to get away. ~ What the hell is he... Oh hell no! ~
Victor lunged forward, slamming into the inner surface of the reflection, the heat in the back of his thoughts warming them, making them hotter as he realized what his reflection was doing. "Leave her alone you sick fuck!" His hands hammered at the surface in front of him. "Leave her alone!"
****
"No," O'Rourke whispered, as a knife appeared out of nowhere in his hand and he started to lean forward. "Please, Krieghoff, don't..."
"No?" the reflection whispered as he drew the knife down her EVA suit, the tough fabric parting under the blade easily. "But if I don't, then you'll never know, will you? You'll never know if that dark little part of you that wondered what it would be like was right."
'Stop, please." There was little but fear in her eyes now, the realization that what was about to happen was beyond her control, that nothing she could do would stop it filling her. "Don't do this... please... Victor, don't."
"Ahhh, there," the reflection smiled, shifting position to start a cut on her far arm, the suit drawing apart from the knife easily there too. "Was that really so hard? That's the first time you've used my name when talking to me. I thought it sounded quite lovely on your lips." He leaned closer as he finished the cut on her arm. "Say it again."
Wide-eyed, O'Rourke shook her head, a core of resistance flaring up. ~ I'm not going to make it easy for you, you bastard! You won't get anything for free, not now, not ever. ~
The reflection drew back, tsking. "So close there, so close. Ah well," he smiled, the expression sending a shudder of revulsion through her, "back to work, then." He drew the knife down her remaining arm, and then each of her legs in turn, tossing it aside casually when he was done.
Leaning back to study her, the reflection nodded once and reached out, hands running down the exterior of the EVA suit to pull one leg away, then the other as O'Rourke suddenly stirred to life and struggled against the restraints holding her again. "Now *that's* the girl I know," he chuckled, his smile broadening at the look on her face whenever one of his hands brushed against her leg as they drew the ruined EVA suit away.
For a moment he paused, smile widening further, and glanced over his shoulder at the observation deck's window, then he laughed once, softly, and turned his attentions to the remains of the EVA suit's arms. "It must have been hell for you, O'Rourke," he observed pleasantly, working off the right arm of the suit. "Hating me as much as you do, fearing me the way you do... and having that faint whisper in the back of your head, wondering what this would be like. How very marvelous it is that we make our own hells to carry around inside us, don't you think?"
"I don't know what's more insane," O'Rourke grunted, trying to pull herself free again as an excuse to avoid meeting his eyes. "You, or that pathetic idea."
'Me, insane?" He paused. "Well, maybe. But as the idea being pathetic...no." He jerked the last of the EVA suit's sleeve away from her remaining arm. "Not, of course, unless you're willing to stipulate that you, yourself are pathetic for having it." He raised an eyebrow as he tossed the sleeve aside. "Well?"
O'Rourke opened her mouth to speak, to deny the thought again, but the words died inside her as she met his eyes and knew that there was no point, that he'd seen it inside her head and would know the lie for what it was. She'd had it the first time she'd seen him, before he'd walked lose enough for her to understand why people were moving away from him as he walked through the crowd of crewmen awaiting boarding at Utopia Planetia.
Even after he'd drawn close enough for her to feel the frission of fear his presence generated run through her, it had still been there, a tiny whisper in the darkest depths of her mind. Nothing silenced it, not checking his records, or being forced to spend time with him, not even the discovery that he was, at least in her eyes, dangerously insane.
She'd denied it, lied about it, hidden it in shame - but it was still there, still whispering. There wasn't any point in denying it to herself anymore, not now, but she decided that she'd be damned if she would give him the satisfaction of hearing her admit aloud that there was a tiny part of her that was attracted to him. "Screw you, Krieghoff," she whispered, only after the words were said realizing how poor a choice they'd been.
"Why thank you," the reflection smiled, leaning forward again, its breath touching her cheek and drawing another shudder of fear and revulsion from her. "I think I will..."
****
Beyond listening to anything said on the other side of the glass, Victor stopped his relentless pounding long enough to strip off the bulky EVA suit and cast it aside, jamming the contents of the suit's pockets into his uniform. Freed from the suit's constraints, he bared his teeth and lunged for the surface in front of him again, trying to drown out the feeling of the reflection's hands removing O'Rourke's EVA suit as the transmitted sensations ran up his arms like tingling flames.
~ Not letting him do this, not. Stop him, stop this. ~ Even the thoughts that ran through his head were losing coherency as the slowly rising tide of rage built higher and higher in the back of his mind, pushing aside anything and everything that wasn't related to the single purpose at hand. ~ Kill him, kill him dead. Stop him. Kill. Dead. Stop. ~
Trembling in advance of the release of the red tide that was filling him, he raised his hands, oddly unmarked from all the battering they'd received as he sought his freedom, and crashed them into the surface blocking his escape one after the other, the ripples from the two blows striking each other and rebounding in time to rebound yet again as he drove his hands into the shimmering surface again, and again. ~ Kill. Dead. Stop. ~
The tide rose higher and higher, filling him faster and faster as it rose, the crest burying the last of his sanity in a single rush, leaving nothing but a single thought, a single drive echoing through him. ~ Kill. Dead. Kill. Stop. Kill. Killkillkillkillkillkill... ~
A single, wordless cry exploded out from him, the roar of a tiger leaping for the kill, and he stabbed a hand forward into the rippling mass of the barrier in front of him as the feel of O'Rourke's skin on his lips was swallowed up and lost, serving as nothing but fuel to stoke the furnace of his rage. His fingers clawed, slipped free, dug in again, and held. Still venting his cry, he jammed his other hand into the same spot and dug it in as well, pressing deeper and striving to draw them apart, to tear the barrier apart.
Under the pressure of his hands and the single, focused point of his rage, the shimmering wall gave way, distending and stretching elastically as his hands moved deeper and further apart. The fabric of the barrier twisted and changed as it was distorted, losing the reflective, glassy quality it possessed and becoming white, like molten glass just before it snapped. ~Killkillkillkillkillkillkill.... ~
With a final, terrific effort, Victor jerked his hands apart, the fabric of the barrier giving still more under the force of his rage, the very heat inside his heat seeming to melt the mirrorstuff between his hands. It gave a little more in a jerk, and then still more as he roared again. For an eternal instant it resisted any further movement, pitting itself against the power of the rage that had overtaken him and his drive to be free, to kill the reflection that was hurting in his name.
Then it cracked, with the sound of an ice cube dropping into fine crystal.
****
"Why thank you," the reflection smiled, leaning forward again, its breath touching her cheek and drawing another shudder of fear and revulsion from her. "I think I will..."
"Stop, please. You can stop," O'Rourke whispered.
"Stop?" The reflection whispered back, smiling down at her through Victor's face. "Why ever would I want to do that?"
"Don't do this, please. Please." She heard her voice crack, and felt the first tear burn its way free from her eyes, unable to blink, unable to look away. "I..." Her voice cracked again, wavering, and she irrationally realized she hadn't sounded like this since she was a little girl. "Please... Victor. No."
"Victor, now is it?" He smiled once, eyes searching hers. "Where was my given name a minute ago? Yesterday? Last week? It was always 'Krieghoff this' and 'Krieghoff that' - but now it's Victor?" He leaned closer, taking advantage of the way she twisted her head to the side to whisper in her ear, "Did using my last name help keep you from thinking of me as human? Is that it?"
"No..." Her voice was a tiny, soft sound now. "It wasn't like that. It wasn't."
"What was it like then, O'Rourke? Tell me."
"It was... I was..."
"Go on, say it, O'Rourke."
"I... I... was scared," she admitted, another tear burning down her cheek.
"No," he answered, tilting his head to the side. "No, you weren't." He leaned forward again, lips almost brushing her ear. "But you will be."
"Stop it," she whispered suddenly, helplessly. "Stop it, stop it, stop it...."
"Stop what?" The maddeningly calm tone in his voice never wavered as he asked the question. "I haven't done anything to you yet." He regarded her for a moment. "But you did use my name without being asked and you admitted you were afraid... that's worth something."
"Yes," she seized the idea desperately, hating herself as the pleading words escaped her, hating the way she felt, hating the helplessness. "It is, isn't it?"
Mirror-Victor leaned back thoughtful as he considered her. "How about this then," he said after a heartbeat. 'I'll tell you a secret in exchange for that. Something that no one knows." His grin widened inhumanly as he leaned forward again. "Something that not even he knows."
~ Not even who knows? What is he talking about? ~ O'Rourke looked up, silently cursing the trembling that ran through her as the reflection leaned closer. "Wh-what?"
He leaned so close that his face filled her whole world, one hand reaching down to gently hold her head in place with a grip stronger than steel, preventing her from looking away. "Are you ready?" he whispered, waiting a second until she gave a single jerky nod. "Good." Then softly, so softly that she almost missed it, he added, "It wouldn't hurt him so much if he didn't feel the same way."
"Wh-what? Feel...? Hurt... who?" Confused, she looked up, eyes wide with fright but still questioning... and saw, past the reflection's shoulder, not the reflection of Victor sitting on the table, leaning over her, but an empty space in the glass where he should be. Saw, instead, another reflection of Victor, hands hammering at the inside of the glass as if he were trapped inside it.
In that instant of seeing, and the moment of understanding that followed, the reflection smiled again, it's grin impossible for a human, as it whispered, "I thought about waking Marsh and Hanley up so they can watch, but he's really the only one that matters... and he can see - and feel - everything."
Leering, it shifted position, hands reaching for her in a way that she had dreaded since awakening, the inhuman parody of Victor's lips pressing down on hers. "Time to scream, O'Rourke."
"No! Noooo!" The words tore themselves from her as she struggled desperately, frantically to free herself, to fight back as the obscene kiss was forced on her. In the background, she heard something that might have been the door opening, thought there might have been footsteps, but couldn't turn to see, couldn't beg for help, couldn't escape. "Noooo!"
And there was a single, tinkling sound, like a lone cube of ice falling into fine crystal.
Donovan Black made his way through the halls of the USS Defiant toward it's central computer core. He had no idea what he was searching for, but he was uneasy about the whole thing. It was as if he was being driven by an otherworldly force. His step had lengthened, and he moved with demonic speed and determination.
Chase Remur was frightened, very frightened. She'd never seen her departmental leader and friend, Donovan, like this before. He was like a man possessed, striding so fast that she could hardly keep up. She struggled along as best she could, till somewhere close to the CCC, she tripped and crashed to the deck.
“Donovan! Stop! You’re going to run me to death.” she pleaded as her EVA suited body slammed the deckplates hard. Donovan whirled around, his face a mask of grim determination in his task. A flash of irritation crossed it as he thrust out his hand to her.
Lieutenant Remur accepted the proffered hand and struggled to her feet. They resumed their breakneck pace. He’d been angry. It was all stunning to her. He’d never so much as raised his voice in anger with her. And now....
And now they arrived at the central computer core. Donovan stopped in front of the door and looked at it, almost as if he was looking through it. Turning to the side, he looked down at the access terminal next to the door.
“Get me access.” he ordered. Remur nodded sharply and picked a few tools from her case. Almost tearing off the bottom of the terminal, she attached one device and turned it on, rearranging internal wires with the other device. A few moments later, the door slid open.
Black didn’t wait for her to gather her supplies. His rifle swept up from it’s position aimed at the floor and he swept into the CCC. Remur followed a few seconds later, her prized tools back in their case. Black had already crossed to the central computer core’s main access terminal. He began accessing files.
“Somethings blocking out my access. The computer won’t respond to any of the Defiant’s access codes.” Black said, turning back to Lieutenant Remur. “Come look at this!”
Remur came over to him, and her commander stepped aside. She tapped into the terminal and began to work her technical magic....
And was blown backwards, completely across the room, an arc of electricity connecting her chest with the terminal. Donovan was knocked off his feet by the blast. Rolling to his feet, he looked across the room to where Chase lay in a pile of equipment that she had knocked over. Lifting her head, she reached out to him, and them collapsed, her unconsious body smoking from the point where the electricity had entered her.
He reached over and picked up his rifle. Something was deadly wrong here. The computer should not have done what it had. He glanced over his shoulder at the terminal, still smoking from the access port where Lieutenant Remur’s multitool had been connected. The burned object lay on the deck three feet from him.
He called back over his shoulder, “We’re getting out of here. This is a job for a full investigation team. Can you travel on your own?” He knew now that whatever reasons he had for coming here, they had been mistaken. Remur’s “accident” had been enough to snap him back to the reality of his situation.
“Oh but Donovan, you’ve only just arrived.” came a voice that sounded like Remur’s from over his shoulder. It was her voice, but it was not her voice at the same time. She didn’t talk like that, and the inflection was all wrong for the tiny, humble offier that he knew.
He stood slowly and turned around. The sight that greated him was beyond his imagination, and would burn itself into his memory for many years to come. Chase Remur, floating in mid air, her girlish figure limp, yet controlled, as if gravity had no control over her. Her outstretched hands channeled blue electicity from a pair of sparking consoles, and it pulse over her, highlighting her firey red hair and her blue eyes.
Donovan, for once, found himself at a loss of anything to say.
“What? No snappy remark. How unlike you, Donovan.” she said, then snapped out her hand to point straight at his skull, and a discharge of electricity connected between her hand and his left, prosthetic eye.
Pain arched out from his skull, and he felt like he was on fire. The burst picked him up and slammed him back down onto the deck, near the edge of the deck plating. A foot further and he would have fallen down into the CCC pit. He rolled over onto his back and tried to breath. A moment later his breath returned.
Remur was standing over him, the electricity still coarsing through her. She drew back her boot, preparing to kick him over the edge and down into the hole. A fall that far wouldn’t be survivable. Two decks was no laughing matter.
As she kicked, Donovan’s hand swung out from his side, catching her foot and jerking it up, knocking the woman to the deck. Donovan leapt up into a backbend and vaulted himself to his feet. Remur rose up from the deck as if nothing had happened.
The two combatants circled one another, each sizing up their opponent. She moved first, a sliding kick which Donovan sidestepped. She quickly followed through with a kick to back of his legs, dropping him. He rolled again and caught her next blow, slingiing her to the deck.
At this point, she floated back up into the air and reestablished her electrical link with the computers. She fired bolt after bolt of electricity at him, and he was hard pressed to roll away from them.
Finally he lay on the deck, blacked and charred around him. He knew that he couldn’t avoid many more attacks. They’d only been fighting for a few minutes, and he was exhausted by the experience. That was when he spotted his only chance. If he could get the tragectory just right.
Donovan Black’s hand shot out from his side and clutched at the fallen multitool. Just as Lieutenant Remur released her attack, he flung to tool at the bolt. The tool was snapped down into the computer bank she was drawing energy from, severing her link and dropping her to the ground. Her attack was deflected away from him and shattered the computer core’s central processor.
Donovan reacted instantly, grabbing her toolkit, which contained the tactical readout that they’d downloaded earlier, abandoning his rifle. He sprinted for the door, which was beginning to close on him. It slammed shut just as he arrived. Turning to the keypad, he tried to remember what she had done to give them access to the room.
“You can’t get out. She won’t let us go.” Chase Remur said from her position on the floor. A small amount of relief floated up into Donovan’s confused and injured soul. Remur was still alive.
“Who?” he asked, dragging her back from the room and over to the door. “Chase, who?!”
“The ship, sir. The USS Defiant. We aren’t facing the interphase malady, we’re up against a ship that’s seen hell. And now.... so have I.” she murmured, trying to fall into blissful unconsiousness, where she wouldn’t have to face what she had seen.
“What?! Talk sense to me, Chase.” Donovan responded. She shook her head, he didn’t understand “Chase, we have to get out of here. I need to know what’s happening. What’s causing this?”
“Can’t you see?” she said, her eyes pleading with him to understand, “This ship, it’s alive. Somewhere when this ship phased out of existence, it went to a realm which resembled our concept of hell. And while their, it was given a sort of twisted consiousness. And now I’ve linked with it, and I’ve seen what it has seen. I know what it wants. It wants us dead, and everyone else in this godforsaken universe. You’ve only stunned it. It will repair itself.” She again tried to fall asleep.
“Remur, stay awake,” he said, gently rousing her, “I need you to open the door.” She nodded quietly.
“I don’t want this.... thing.... to win. Help me up.” she said, and Donovan did so, lifting her to her feet and slinging her arm over his shoulder. She went to work, guiding his hands over the keys and controls, doing with his hands things that he couldn’t understand. Finally, the door slid open. Grabbing her case, he helped her limp from the room.
“Where do we go?” she asked.
“To the shuttlebay. We’re leaving this ship.” Donovan replied.
Crom slammed headlong into a bulkhead as he ran screaming through the bowels of the Galaxy. A tide of beetles swarmed the corridors after him, trying everlong to reach the shrieking naked brown figure. Crom ran past many possibly stupefied faces as he made his way back to his quarters.
As he could feel the first few of the tiny powerful jaws and pincers slice into his butt end, he rounded the corner and saw the open doors of his quarters. Launching himself horizontally at the door he screamed "COMPUTER!!! LOCK DOOR!!!" he slammed into something in his quarters as the doors slid shut, leaving him in absolute blackness.
Croms' breath resounded off the bulkheads hidden by the darkness. There was no other sound. It was almost unreal. "Computer, Lights" he commanded. Nothing.
"Computer," A shrill voice came from behind the naked ferengi. "Lights." The lights came up in a blinding fashion, and Crom nearly didnt realize who it was that spoke to him from behind. It donned on him suddenly.
"NAGUS!!" Crom screamed and spun around so fast, he gave himself a carpet burn on his ass. He sprung up to his knees and bowed before the Grand Nagus, who was known to make surprise visits to some ferengi. Then he realized. Latinum. the customary strip of latinum to the Nagus whenever he graced anyone with his presence. It wasn't a custom, it was a law. He scrambled over to his lockbox as the Nagus chortled at him from behind. He fumbled withthe lock until it opened....to an empty box. Crom shrieked for a brief instant.
"Something wrong, Crommie boy?"
"Uh, uh.... no, no Nagus, nothing, i just....um...thought that you deserve a bigger piece of latinum...it's in a differant box!" he managed to squander out.
"Good, good my boy! Now THAT's a way to please your Nagus!" Zek smiled at him.
Crom ran into his sleeping room and pulled out an intricate box underneath his bed. Quickly he managed his way through 18 locking mechanisms and 4 booby traps, with the final click of the box, Crom brought it out to his Nagus and laid it at his feet. "This is my gift to you, Nagus!"
The Nagus looked like a pleased child who just recieved a wrapped toy for Christmas. He tossed the box lid open and his tremendous smile turned into a chilling scowl. He glared at Crom. "What is the meaning of this?"
Crom inched forewards and peered at the bottom of an empty box. His jaw dropped and he scrambled back against the opposite wall in the room. Suddenly things began to get dark. All except Zek, of course. He was lit up in a brilliant latinum-colored glow while the rest of the room turned a dark shade of grey.
Nightmares resounded through Crom's miond at this tragedy. Zek almost seemed to be growing larger, filling up more and more of the room. Crom could feel the latinum in his veins grow icy cold. He was dead. He had to be. Soon anyways.
"This is not only an insult to me" Zek's voice boomed throughout the ship it seemed. "It is an insult to the ENTIRE Ferengi Alliance!!! Crom, YOU HAVE FAILED ME!!!! You have no profit! No Latinum!!! And from this day foreward," Zek paused dramatically for show. "YOU SHALL NEVER LAY YOUR GRUBBY LITTLE FINGERS ON ANOTHER PIECE OF LATINUM EVER!!!!!!!!" The golden light went out, and the regular ship lights came on to a naked ferengi sobbing on the floor, reaching skywards.
Some hours ago. . . . . . . .
From the first moments when the strange silvery-blue starship slipped into parralel course across form the Galaxy, things on the bridge had been eerily tense.
“Tholian Battlecruiser matching velocity at 10,000 meters Captain.” The report had been made, but for a few brief moments nobody on the Galaxy were looking at their instruments.
The ship was like nothing they had ever seen before.
100 years ago when Captain Kirk and the Enterprise had made an unfortunate first contact with the strange crystalline beings known as the Tholians, the territorial aliens had a relatively minor military capacity. This was mostly comprising of small Patrol-class vessels armed with low powered plasma cannons and an unusual (but rather unwieldy) Web Spinning Device.
Herself disabled by the strange Interphasic radiation that now gripped the Galaxy, the Constitution Class Enterprise, had been ensnared by the Web only because of her own inability to move.
Later encounters with the Tholians confirmed the limited scope of the weapon, and the race was dismissed as a relatively minor power in the grand scale of galactic politics with no real influence beyond their own jealously guarded borders.
One year ago, the Tholians had made a surprise reappearance during the ill-famed lanjep conference in the Klingon Empire.
Federation scientists had puzzled over the few sensor scans that Captain Price’s Galaxy had been able to make of the Tholian Ambassadorial Starship.
It had been much larger. A 500 meter long shard of glowing crystal that seemed to glow with its own inner light.
Not much was determined of the vessels capabilities, but given its size and configuration, it was obvious that the Tholians were capable of producing a true Deep-Space Starship, signaling perhaps a change in policy from their original defense-only stance.
Now. . . .A year later, the starship on the Galaxy’s screen confirmed this theory.
“Mr. Smith is that the same vessel from lanjep?” The Captain asked, his brow furrowed in thought.
“Negative sir,” a young Ensign replied with a gulp. “It. . .It looks like its big brother instead.”
And so it was. . . .700 meters inlength and formed of the same luminescent crystal hull, the new Tholian starship stretched further in length than the Galaxy did, though initial scans indicated they massed about the same.
“Weapons capabilities? Engine Output?” Brhode asked.
Science could only shrug. “Unknown. . . .no obvious weapons ports. . . or any ports for that matter in view. Looks like a single solid rock formation. . .no guns. . .no windows. . .no hatches. . . .I could even tell you how they get in and out of the thing.”
“Theories?”
They were guesses at most.
“Unknown sir. . . .Except for the lanjep vessel we’ve never seen a Tholian vessel in this configuration before. Fleet records indicate that there was a brief engagement over 20 years ago with the Tholians involving a civilian advisor. . .Kyle Riker. . . .the ships used in that attack were nothing like this however.”
Brhode frowned. What the bloody blue hell were the Tholians up to? He tried to concentrate, but his thoughts were all a jumble. . . .the interphasic radiation was already affecting his crew, and judgement was becoming impaired.
The Captain seemed to be no exception.
“Well. .. . .suggestions anyone?” he said openly.(Something her never would have done in his right mind)
“Yeah. . . .Shut Up!”
There was a shocked silence on the bridge as Brhode rounded upon whoever DARED to breath such an insult to his face.
Madness or no there was a . . . . . . . the thought broke off as Brhode layed eyes on the speaker. . . . . . .
Dr. Jebediah Quick. . .. Starfleet liaison and Head of the Galaxy-B Project, smiled serenely, meeting Brhode’s flaming gaze without a flinch.
“What the hell did you just say to me Mr. . . . “
“Its ‘Doctor’ not ‘Mister’, actually,” Quick corrected, “And I said Shut Up.”
Brhode’s famous temple vein throbbed. “Doc-tor,” he bit off the syllables, “You have about three seconds to save your life before . . . . “
“Tut-tut, no time for that,” Quick dismissed with a wave, “You asked for suggestion in dealing with the Tholians, and I gave it. . . . Shut Up.”
Brhode cocked his head to one side, “Shut Up? What are you talking about Doctor? You know these alien yahoos?”
The wild-haired doctor nodded toward the glowing Starship on the view screen before them, “I may not know THEM specifically,” he said, “but I have made the odd Tholian acquaintance in my day, and I do know what is nearest and dearest tot their rocky little hearts. . . . .I know what they’re all in a tizzy about.”
“Shutting up?”
Quick shrugged, “Well not literally mind you, but in essence yes. The Tholians area crystalline based life form that left to its own devices would have been perfectly happy wallowing about in the lava flows of their own homeplanet. “
“ Unfotuantely for them. . .. their very physical structure. . .crystals that is. . . .created some very dire problems for them when we other races started flitting about the universe on our own years and years ago.”
“See. . .just like crystals were used on earth centuries ago for precise alignment of certain radio transmitters, and just like nowadays we use special Dilithium crystals for accurate focussing of Warp Engine Power, The Tholians own bodies make them very efficient receivers for every piece of modern Electromagnetic, and subspace radiation for light-years in every direction.”
“Every time we go to Warp Speed. . .or Beam someone up. . .or replicate a cup of Earl Grey, The resulting EM ‘noise’ resonates in their bodies giving them the equivalent of a bad ice-cream headache.”
Quick shrugged, “Heck even the Bio electric field of our brains can mess them up at close range. They want us to Shut Up. . . . . We’re driving them crazy.”
In the time since Quick’s rather puzzling revelation, things had progressed from bad to worse aboard the Galaxy.
True to his nature, Brhode elected NOT to take the good Doctor’s advice and continued to blaze every electronic device aboard the Galaxy at full intensity.
This no doubt irritated the Tholians, but by then Brhode was beyond caring. The Interphase madness took a hold of the good Captain, and sent him prancing merrily down the corridors drooling profusely on himself.
Left in Charge, Commander Hawksley proved to be no better as even now he was preparing for a pre-emptive strike on the Tholian Starship. . . .convinced that the MATH had told him to do it.
Crewmen were running hither and yon in madness. . . .Ferengis were having strange arachnophobic delusions , and Chief Counselors were having bizarre family reunions.
Clearly then it was up to Dr. Jebediah Quick to save the day then.
Alone in his private research laboratory, Dr Quick huddles over a bizzare arrangement of tangled mechanical equipment and multicolored electrical wiring.
Atop his head he wore the odd Spaghetti-strainer ‘Invisible-helmet’ he had invented earlier that week, and in his hands he deftly manipulated a blazing soldering iron.
The Colander had proved to be a dismal failure as an Invisible helmet, but strangely enough it did seen to afford some immunity to the effects of Interphase Madness. Alone in the crew Quick retained his wits, thanks to his trusty spaghetti strainer-helmet.
(Either that or maybe his brain was already fried from too many drugs)
No matter, if the day was going to be saved. . . .and it must. . . .it was going to be up to him.
“There that ought to do it.” He muttered to himself, shutting down the soldering iron and admiring the strange device before him.
It was a mass of cables and wires, but visible beneath it was a standard EVA suit with what looked like several Transporter Enhancement Rods welded onto it at decidedly odd angles.
Since the crew of the Galaxy was mad, Quick had decided to first rescue the trapped Defiant Away Team, and then use them to pull the Galaxy away to safety.
(That is if Hawksley did kill them all first)
At any rate, since the Away Team had lost their own Pattern Enhancers in a decompression accident, Quick was essentially going to transform himself into a giant, walking-talking Enhancer Rod, and hopefully bring em back alive.
That’s what he hoped for anyways.
The suit itself proved incredible awkward to wear, and by the time the half welded helmet was attached, Quick looked very much like a human pincushion, with glowing Enhancer Rods pointing off in every which direction.
~~~A pincushion or a spikey Blowfish~~~ he mused to himself.
Slowly and carefully making his way to the nearest transporter room. . .and half scaring a number of innocent bystanders along the way. . . . .Quick tapped out a few coordinated and clomped his spikey way onto the transporter pad.
Two seconds and two thousand meters later, The Pincushion arrived aboard the Defaint’s Main shuttle bay in a the midst of a blaze of blue light.
Nobody was immediately present, and as expected the Comm circuits were totally down.
No matter.
Gingerly pulling another odd device from his belt (and rattling the rods in the process) Quick clamped the strange tool to a nearby wall brace, and pulled a small mega-phone like mouthpiece up to his helmet.
“Ahem.” He said.
The whole deck shook with the sound of his voice as the device transferred the vibrations directly into he structure of the hull itself.
The Scattered Away Teams may not be able to pick up Comm transmissions, but they would surely feel the sound of his voice rumbling in the very decks beneath their feet.
Or so he hoped.
“Goooooooooood Morning DEFIANT!!!” Quick began, the metal walls and floors around him groaning in a resonating facsimile of his voice. “Air Quick is now in service on the Main Shuttle Deck. Anybody left needs to boogie on down here to get out, or we are in mucho trouble-o”
He paused a few seconds as the bone-jarring vibrations traveled into and along the Defiant’s internal support structure.
“Again I say. . . Last Call for Getting the hell out of here. . . .So lets go!!”
Quick shut the deviece down even before the last tremors died down. . .surely they would hear. . . or feel his voice no matter where they were.
Smiling to himself he unclamped his new toy and turned away from the wall only to be brought up short.
“Holy Christmas. . . . . . “ he swore, “How in the hell. . . . ?”
“Good evening Jebediah,” a hissing voice mocked, “Welcome to hell……”
=/\=
Donovan Black moved as quickly as his companion's injured form could be carried. He had long ago given up on helping her limp along. Bending down, her had lifted Lieutenant JG Chase Remur up and slung her over one EVA suited shoulder. He limp form was little more than 100 pounds without her suit, so he had little trouble carrying her, even with the bulky EVA suit. He used one arm to support her rear. In his other hand was the carry-all that she used to store tools. Contained in it were the all-important downloads from the Defiant's tactical computer core. They'd been downloaded just before the Defiant had begun attacking them.
Nobody would believe that they had seen what they had seen. And there were bound to be questions about the deaths of Warrant Officers Metz and Applebaum. Black did not relish answering them, nor did he relish the idea of notifying their kin. Metz had a wife and children on the Galaxy, and Applebaum's brother was a civilian instructor at the SFCE school. Black hated losing people.
And Remur wasn't in very good condition. She had lapsed into semi-unconsiousness, and Donovan couldn't run and keep her awake at the same time. Now she was muttering things about the torments she had seen in her link with the computer of the Defiant. She would be messed up for a long time, if Donovan was right.
He shook his head and kept running. This was getting worse by the second, and he had his suspicions about how long they had before the Defiant repaired itself and decided to take them out. He wasn’t afraid. That wasn’t how he was trained. He just didn’t want to see Lieutenant Remur die young. So many officers did, and entered a category of statistics that Donovan never wanted to see rise. It had already claimed two more souls today.
“Goooooooooood Morning DEFIANT!!!” a familiar voice shook the very deck plates that Donovan ran on, “Air Quick is now in service on the Main Shuttle Deck. Anybody left needs to boogie on down here to get out, or we are in mucho trouble-o”
Donovan immediately changed course and started charging for the shuttlebay.
If Jebediah Quick could keep Chase Remur from becoming a statistic, then Donovan would do everything he could to make it happen. And if he survived, all the better. He liked the good doctor, as his wild ideas seamed to have an odd way of working out at the best of times, and his peace-loving philosophy fit well with Donovan’s personality.
Donovan picked up the pace.
"It about damn time where getting out of here ma'am I had my fill." Edward said while help carrying "Rashid" body back towards the shuttlebay, he got hurt after Rose knocked the crap out of him after he hurted her.
After all that happen here on this stupid old ship the young Betaziod was glad she was getting off, but it wasn't just that something was not right about her husband..this wasn't her husband at all it was somebody else soul is in her beloved husband body.
“What in the hell have your husband been eatting?” Edwards started to though the 120 IBS man on his back with the help of Rose of herself.
“Shut the hell up and come on...it time to get the hell out of here.” Rose said in an commanding voice as both of the officer started running towards the shuttlebay as fast as they could.
“Goooooooooood Morning DEFIANT!!!” a familiar voice shook the very deck plates that Donovan ran on, “Air Quick is now in service on the Main Shuttle Deck. Anybody left needs to boogie on down here to get out, or we are in mucho trouble-o” both of the officer heared as they enter the shuttlebay with “Rashid” hurt body.
But unknown to Rose, Victor will make himself known on the shuttle in the front of others.
TBC....
"Lieutenant!"
"Lieutenant! Help me!"
So'ka screamed, pleaded for aid as he clawed at the sandy water he was stuck in. He was going to drown and he was scared to death. Mysteriously, Cutter Kara'nin had fallen from the sky and landed on solid ground beside him, limp and lifeless.
"Lieutenant!"
Suddenly, a moan errupted from Cutter's lips, "What?"
"Lieutenant, gods, help me! Please," So'ka cried, "please, help me."
But, Cutter was in no shape to help anyone. He, too, was wracked with fear and self-doubt. He opened his eyes and sat up and faced So'ka as he sunk furthur into the quicksand. Cutter's legs were stretched out before them, his wings still lay on the ground where he landed, one off to his side, the other stretching into the quicksand.
"I can't help you. You're better off without me," Cutter said.
So'ka seemed to ignore him, yet follow his advice. He reached for the stray wing stretched out towards him with both arms. The tight grip hurt and Cutter, suprised, jerk his wing away. The strong limb, normally capable of pushing a few hundred pounds of force down onto air, easily lifted So'ka from the quicksand that was trying to swallow him. He flew halfway out of the pool before the wing jerked itself free. So'ka grabbed desperately, trying to prevent himself from falling back in; he caught Cutter's leg.
"No," Cutter yelled, afraid of being dragged down with him, "Let go!"
Cutter turned and crawled on the sand, but So'ka was too heavy. Instead of moving forward to safety, he was slowly being pulled back. He stretched out his wings and flapped hard, lifting his body off the ground. So'ka's grip on his leg was stronger than that on his wing, so he too was lifted. Cutter fought gravity with his wings, fought against So'ka's extra weight and the pull of the quicksand which held like glue rather than water.
Eventually, So'ka came free with a jerk. Cutter lost control and the two of them tumbled to the ground, hard.
Cutter moaned as he raised himself from the ground once more. This time, he was lying on dirt. Not soil, like the jungle, or sand like So'ka's desert, but normal dead dirt. He looked up, and So'ka was next to him, just as confused. The Defiant's walls stood on either side of them, they were on the Recreation decks. Where the dense jungle once stood, there was a field of dirt, and the occasional dead, decaying tree.
"What happened," So'ka asked, standing.
Cutter sat back, and wrapped his arms around his knees, and his wings around his balled form. He didn't know what was going on anymore, he had failed his job. He couldn't figure anything out.
"Thank you for getting me out, even though you were trying to kick me away," So'ka said, offering his hand to Cutter.
Cutter turned his head away in shame, so So'ka grabbed him by the arm and jerked the Fruna'lin to his feet. Then he started to walk away, wet sand dripping off his helmetless EVA suit.
"Wait, where are you going?" Cutter called.
"To find Krieghoff."
Victor Krieghoff. He came and taunted Cutter when he was trapped. He wouldn't help him free, instead, Victor called him a failure. He didn't want to see him again if he could help it. "Why?"
"He came by when I was sinking. He began to help me out, but then pushed me back in and laughed. But, there was something funny. He was being followed by a large oak mirror."
"A mirror?"
So'ka nodded, "But the Victor in the mirror was not a reflection. It was wearing an EVA suit, while Victor wore only his uniform, and the image was banging its fists, like it was trapped behind glass."
There was reflection of Victor near Cutter, too, except it was in a pool of water, rather than a mirror. Everything else was the same as So'ka's description, even the banging fists.
"Are you coming or not?" So'ka demanded.
Cutter hesitated, looking around. There was no one else, the deck was lifeless and dark. He didn't want to go after Victor, but he didn't want to be left alone. He looked down at his near naked frame. If he didn't go, he'd be left alone, unprotected in the dark, cold, dead ship. He sighed, wimpered really, and followed behind the alien security officer.
Chad Vicenik Lt. Cutter Kara'nin Chief of Astrophysics USS Galaxy
"Frag me up a Denebian Slime Devils' spinxster." James crudely, bitterly muttered, "This ship is really bothering me. The sooner we get people to get off, the better."
The ship felt constricting, like the inside of a snake swallowing crewmen like squirming rats. The old bulwarks, bulkheads and corridors held an iron stomach, the parasites writhing inside as it digested the crewman's sanity. James had a strange feel for what the crew went through on those final days on the Defiant. Hell, their worse nightmares, creatures tormenting them until their mind had nothing left to damage, violations too disgusting to mention, nightmares too vivid to relive. That was what happened on the final days, he told himself. People were driven mad by the ship, and whatever it was that controlled it. A piece of hell, dropped into their space, then withdrawn into interspace.
The thought occured to James that they could be in interspace now, and there was no escape, or maybe that the Borg and Death nightmares were the beginning of a long and slow torture.
~"Don't think that now, James. Get your head back on your shoulders, dammit!" He reminded himself of the seriousness of his task, "You lose it... you'll lose Rose, and you don't want that." James looked over his shoulder. Rose, unmarred by battled, her EVA suit and herself untouched, except for a split lip from Rashid, was walking behind, holding her phaser Starfleet Academy style. ~"She isn't used to fighting like I am. Geez... she's gonna die out here unless I steer her properly."~
James saw out of the corner of his eye a book on his belt loop. It was the security log, but every time he looked at it, it did not look like a 23rd century data PADD, but a dusty old tome bound in leather and metal.
~"Im no good to her if i'm seeing things. COME ON! I'm not losing another friend 'cause my mind's being f**ked over! Get back in the game!"~
Rose looked back at James with an grin she was ready for anything really, but he don't know that the young woman was also falling in love with him.
"I'm ready James, lets get this over with." the young officer said while getting her phaser ready.
"Right." Corgan muttered grimly. "Let's do this."
His mind was working out the tactically best route in which to go through the ship. Being that there was little time and even less luck, the search for survivors was going to have to be quick. It was decided before that searching key areas of the ship was the best way to go, and the deepest part of the ship, in perspective of where they started, was none other than the bridge. ~"I'm going into the deepest pit of hell, and all I can worry about is everyone else."~ James thought to himself bitterly. Like many other times in battles, James didn't care what happened to him. It was a reckless side of him, taking all the punishment so that others didn't have to. It took its toll on his mind and body during the years in and after the Dominion War. But there it was, like a bad habit, resurfacing.
What happened to Rebecca? Lexa? Were they ok? Was Rose going to survive the day inside this haunted starship? By god, how he wished for once that he was alone, so that only he could face hell and leave the others so that they could reach safety. Having Rose along for the trip was sheer torture, especially knowing what could happen to her.
But every decision was as permanent as if it was set in stone. Everyone was in danger, and he was going to face the dangers and bring them out alive, and himself dead if he had to. James wondered why he was so eager to become a martyr.
"If your life is worth nothing, you have nothing to lose and other people's good fortunes to gain." Was the old Bajoran addage of self sacrifice. It held more influence than he cared to admit.
James tapped open a turbolift, allowed Rose to walk in first, then closed the door shut. He set the co-ordinates for deck 1, then engaged the turbolift. The book on his side nagged at him, humming like the turbolift's turtlish accent. He finally gathered enough nerve, ignoring Rose for the moment, and he picked up the security PADD. It was old and dusty, and had the feel of cracked leather on his fingers. The pages he flipped were course and wrinkled material, like weathered paper from centuries past.
"My god..." James flipped through invisible pages, "What is this?"
"Let me see James, looks like an old security report but what in the hell is going on here? How did this people died, James?"
"Geez... I can't begin to understand what killed them." James shuttered, thinking back to the marine massacre on deck 5. Death claimed the ship had sentience, manifested people's fears into reality, conjuring demons and nightmares. But did bad dreams have the power to kill? The ship had what everyone's worse fear lacked... the power to harm right there and then. "Or... maybe I can. Rose, what do you fear?"
"I fear nothing why?"
"Whatever anyone fears, this ship can bring it to life. I've seen it happen. I even talked to it... or what it used to talk to me. It knows us and kills us in the worse way. The ship is killing us. It has... a mind of it's own. I don't know how, but it does. It's the only reason I can think of why it toys with us this way."
"Maybe some evil spirits are at work? Maybe something else more sinners?" Rose said while thinking about what else to say about it..or anymore ideas about what the hell is going on here.
James flipped through the page. Part of the ancient parchment crackled under the light pressure of his fingers, but he kept scanning, his curiousity drawing him in the book's whirlpool of words. It read, without stardate, signature, or anything else. Just confused scribbles from the tortured mind of a madman.
***********
They're everywhere.
Here, there.
Everywhere.
I leave security. They wait for me and chase me back in.
Balwinder and I can keep safe in here. The nightmares don't attack us there. God, I wish we could leave. I can't stand to be stuck here forever!!!!
Balwinder keeps scratching symbols on the walls. He doesn't know what they are, but tells me they keep us safe. That damn ensign we threw in the brig keeps charging the force field.
I WISH THEY WOULD STOP! I'LL MAKE THEM STOP!!!!!!!!!
***********
"The ship... I think it's the ship... toys with the people inside." James explained shakily, "Intelligent. Mindless creatures don't toy with their prey. Mindless creatures are all about a clean, quickkill. But a sentient one... it gets bored. It wants to play... to satisfy its urges and stimulate its mind. I know what it's like. I've seen it. I've seen it all... oh god..."
***********
Hey kid! Yeah you!
***********
The words popped up at him like a flashing warp beacon straight in his face. He froze, his skin turning to frozen glass.
***********
I see you sometimes. In my dreams. In my nightmares. I can see you right now.
***********
"Holy sh*t!" Corgan dropped the book, leaving its pages open to see. Gathering enough nerve, he scooped the book up before Rose had the chance to retrieve it, and steeled himself to read the prophesy. The words became more incoherent, barely enough to make out the sentences, like the writer was rushed for time.
***********
You're different, are you? Uniform's different. Equipment's different. Your emblem looks like you're from the Enterprise. They finally did it, didn't they? They found us a way out of this hell?
***********
"Sorry..." James apologized to the book.
"It alright love..."
***********
Oh my god! They're coming! Please, get out, quick! You'll hold out long, but like everyone else, we'll be driven mad and dragged away by the demons. They made my kill that kid in the brig, and Balwinder. Don't make them hurt your love!
***********
"What the hell?!?" James gasped in astonishment, turning the book before Rose could lean over his shoulder.
***********
In case you don't know who... you'll be her knight, her hero. You will always be there for her... whether she likes it or not. You'll be there to aide her on this ship.
Awww... hell. I won't leave you a chance to deny yourself. You'll be with her on the bridge.
***********
"Who? GODDAMMIT, WHO?!?!?!" James turned the page, and frantically looked for the hallucinating scrolls. The pages were blank, milky brown expanses of nothingness, weathered and chipped by time. He searched through more pages. "DAMMIT!"
"DAMMIT JAMES, STOP IT BEFORE I SLAP YOU!"
"Rose..." James looked at his friend suspiciously, the prophetic words still dancing in his skull, making a mockery of his intelligence and wisdom better than Death's demeaning comments. "Nevermind. We're almost at the bridge..."
TBC
368