Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Path: moe.ksu.ksu.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!darwin.sura.net!wupost!gumby!destroyer!sol.ctr.columbia.edu!eff!news.oc.com!wizard!f erguson From: ferguson@wizard.etsu.edu (Jason M Ferguson) Subject: STARFLEET VS ALIENS PARTS 1-3 Message-ID: <1992Oct28.193702.23401@ra.oc.com> Sender: usenet@ra.oc.com Reply-To: ferguson@wizard.etsu.edu (Jason M Ferguson) Organization: East Texas State University, Commerce, TX Date: Wed, 28 Oct 1992 19:37:02 GMT Lines: 593 Here it is. Parts 1-3 of Starfleet vs Aliens. I think by part 5, I'll have a better title for the thing. Thanks for all the appreciative mail from someone who never thought he was a good writer. Be on the lookout for a Quantum Leap/Aliens crossover, if this story ever ends. Starfleet vs. Aliens "Computer, resume log." An pleasant-sounding beep ensued. "Captain's log, continued. The Kren is continuing patrol of the Cardassian border, with nothing notable to report. Crew is looking forward to rotation at Starbase 112, in three weeks. Lt. Depalmer has been disciplined for her remarks about the visiting Cardassian delegation a week ago. Personally, I wish there was more I could do about crewmembers with that sort of attitude, but these day an Excelsior-Class starship isn't a choice assignment..." The lights in the ready room dimmed notably. The modulated voice that had been chosen oh-so-many years ago for computers on Excelsior- class ship announced: "Captain to the bridge. Yellow Alert has been initated by First Officer Monroe." Captain Thomas thumbed the intercom button. "On my way." He headed for the turbolift, wishing he had a Galaxy-class ship with ready room on the same level as the bridge. Commander Monroe was standing next to Lt. Corcoran at tactical. "Are you sure that they're just a frieghter? They tried the same trick during the war." Lt. Corcoran spoke up. "No sir," she said. "No evidence of any type of weapons, and only minima shields. I'd say they have a genuine problem." "I'd rather the Captain make the decision to render assistance to them. Can we determine whether they are actually in distress?" Monroe asked Corcoran. "Or whether they just biloxed something on their own to lure us in?" "Unknown, sir." Corcoran was about to continue, But Captain Thomas had chosen that moment to enter the bridge. "What's the problem, Commander?" Monroe went to full attention as he relayed facts. Thomas hated it, but wasn't going to change the man. "We have been contacted by a Cardassian frieghter requesting assistance. They claim that their warp core is behving erraticly and are afraid to attempt to activate the enigines, so they asked assistance from the closest ship that seemed qualified to help them, which happened to be ourselves." Monroe relaxed once he had finished his explanation. "Commander, that hardly nessesitates going to yellow alert status. Starfleet directives order us to render assistance to all ships that request it." Thomas was a bit upset at Commander Monroe. "Unless it is felt that such action would endanger the ship. That's why..." Monroe didn't get to finish. "Commander, come with me to my ready room, will you please? Commander Renauld, you have the con." Lt. Commander Renauld moved to the center seat, while the Captain took the XO to be chewed out in private. It was one of the few things that constituted entertainment in the Kren; Starfleet had never considered such things as recreational lounges or holodecks for older vessels, so gossip was a hobby that few people did not partake in. This would be the best to happen on the ship in the next few days. "Take a seat, Commander." Captain Thomas perferred to be standing while addressing any of his officers in such briefings or private meetings. "The Cardassian War is over Commander. Or do you have some information that Starfleet hasn't communicated to me?" "No sir, but after Picard's warning..." Monroe stopped. He knew that it was bad form to mention Picard to Thomas. Thomas, like every other Starfleet Captain, respected to man to the end of his abilities, but was also rather envious of the man's accomplishments. Every Captain not commanding a galaxy class, and especially the ones commanding the older line ships, knew the feeling. Monroe was lucky. Thomas didn't take it personally this time. "I've been apprised of Picard's feelings. I've also been given more information than you are privvy to, and I still feel that we are in no danger from a Cardassian frieghter half the age of this ship." Thomas continued. "I realize you lost family in the war, but I have to ask you: are you allowing your feelings to affect your judgement here?" "No sir, I just felt that increased vigilance was called for at all times, especially now." Monroe was getting at something, trying to save his skin. "Explain." Thomas was willing to give the man time to hang himself using his own words. "Sir, this is an older ship, without the advanced sensor systems available to ships of laters classes." Monroe paused, Thomas gave no replay. Therefore, he continued: "Normally, an Excesior-class ship would not be assigned to any type of patrol duty, but instead to duties such as transporting officials and other non-critical duties." Thomas still said nothing. Monroe knew at that point the captain was simply planning an argument to counteract his points. A transfer, if possible, might start looking attractive, but it would be one of a long string. Captains noticed those things, but not too favorably. "Ever since Wolf 359, however..." Monroe was continuing his discourse, but Thomas jumped upon hearing about Wolf. "Yes, some of the best ships and crews in Starfleet are gone. We can accept this, hard as it may be, and do our job, or we can use it as an excuse. I agree: the only reason the Kren is on patrol duty is because of a lack of ships to do the job otherwise. But the issue is that our help has been requested. I see no reason not to give it to them. Dismissed." Thomas didn't lose his temper. As much as he disliked Commander Monroe, that action might've been taken as a victory. Monroe simply nodded. With a curt "sir," he was gone. Thomas thumbed the intercom button again. "Bridge, detail personnel to assist the frieghter. Captain out." He didn't wait for the usual "aye, sir." The bosun sounded in the ready room, a day later. Thomas hit the button. "Yes?" "One of the crewmembers of the Cardassian frieghter has requested permission to beam aboard the Kren," sounded the voice. "Reason?" asked Thomas. "He wishes medical assistance. He says that the frieghter doesn't have the facilites to assist his condition." And we do? though Thomas. He put the thought out of his head; he had to stop thinking of the Kren as an out-of-date, well, friegter. It wasn't easy. "Do we have information on his condition?" "A full medical record was trasmitted to us at the time of the request. Medical Officer V'shath has notified us that the Cardassian's condition is nothing that connot be handled." "I see no reason not grant the request. Make it so." Once again, Thomas cut of the intercom before he could hear the "aye, sir" response. "Doctor V'shath to Captain Thomas." Thomas felt like a communications officer in his own ready room. "What is it Doctor?" "It's about the Cardassian crewmember who boarded for medical treatment." "What about him?" Thomas wasn't too interested, but Doctor V'shath would tell him anyway. "I'd like to keep him here under observation for the next 25 hours." The Catian has gotten Thomas attention now. He was good at that. "What for, Doctor?" "It turns out that his condition was related to some sort of growth in his lung." "Cancer, Doctor?" V'shath's voice came back a bit uncertain, like it always was when the topic related to a patient. "Closest analogue, I think. I'm not totally sure: I've never seen anything like that on a Cardassian before." "You've worked with Cardassian patients before?" Thomas got the words out, then regretted it. "It's in my service record, sir. Oh, and he requests that some of his belongings be beamed aboard." "I'll give the order. Thomas out." He thumbed the button, then directed the intercom to transporter room one. "Transporter room, Chief Marcus," spoke the intercom. "Chief Marcus, contact sick bay for a list of items to have transported aboard from the Cardassian frieghter. Then contact them to have the items brought aboard." Thomas cut off the intercom. He waited for the next call. He was sure it wouldn't be long. Sure enough, twenty minutes later, the bosun sounded. "Captain, one of the items that was brought aboard is some sort of lifeform. Most unusual thing I've ever seen." The transporter chief sounded unusually excited. Something interesting was happening. But Thomas couldn't say anything about the man's attitude. "Is it dangerous?" Safety was a concern here. "Not as such; it's in some sort of stasus field. But if it got loose..." "Understood. Contact Science officer T'Sela and have her examine it. What else was brought aboard?" "Nothing strange. A change of clothing, some food. They don't trust our replication system here." "Alright. Tell Commander T'Sela to contact me with a report on the creature. And for God's sake tell medical about what the Cardass- ian tried to bring aboard." The intercom was cut off. Thomas contacted security. "Security, Lt. Corcoran." "Lieutenant, detail a security officer to Sick Bay to watch our guest. He just tried to bring a potentially dangerous lifeform aboard my ship." "Aye, sir." Thomas realized he didn't hear those words that often. Science Officer T'Sela examined the creature enclosed in the stasis device. It was not an aesthetically pleasing creature; it seemed to be some type of analogue to a Terran spider. "It is unlikely the sensors are correctly calibrated." The younger officer spoke up. "But sir, I've triple checked the calibration. I don't believe the statsis device is causing that sort of error." T'Sela did not turn to face the officer as she replied. "Sawek once theorized that no sort of creture could use an acid for circulation in any case of orgnic life. More to the point, no corrosive agent could be used." "But the Hortas..." "A Horta is a silicon, not carbon, based lifeform. We are going to need to study the creature without interferance from this stasis item." "We should have security in here. You're forgetting this is a potentially hostile creature." With that, T'Sela turned. Her eyes seemed glacially cold for an instant, then were back to normal. "I have not forgotten. However I feel that the pursuit of knowledge is its own end, so any non-destructive means are justified." The younger officer, Ensign Veral, hadn't heard that sort of thing from a Vulcan before. However, that Vulcan WAS a coomanding officer, so it wasn't wise to point that out. The T'Prel story flashed to the forefront of Veral's mind, then was pushed back. "One thing sir, we don't know ow the statsis generator operates." "We should find out then, ensign." T'Sela realigned the miniature sensor array toward the control panel of the stasis generator. The idea was to figure out the exact internal configuration of the control system of the generator. Veral would remember with horrid detail how the idea turned to a nightmare. The stasis field deactivated. The creature stood on its legs for a second, located T'Sela, then lept as if each leg was a spring. T'Sela had time only to whip around, to see the facehugger flying toward her face... "Veral to Sickbay! Veral to Sickbay! We have a medical emergency in Science lab 2." Then Kren's computer relayed the message to sickbay immediately . The creature was attached to T'Sala's face. And it was ugly. It didn't take long for the team from sickbay to arrive. V'shath was with the team himself, and made a professional judgement. "We have to get that thing off of her. Ensign Graham, pull it off." "Wait! That might hurt her more than anything else the creature might do. The thing uses molecular acid for blood." "Good god, Ensign Veral! What sort of thing is that? And what's it doing on the ship?" V'shath knew procedure well. "This creature was part of what your Cardassian patient wanted brought aboard." Ensign Veral said. "I thought you were informed, and a security officer was assigned to sickbay." "I never put it toghether... oh, god, how could I have so stupid. The captain told me everything, I just didn't believe all of it. Graham, don't remove the organism. I'll take it off surgically. Ger her to sickbay." "I didn't do anything improper, sir. It was Science Officer T'sala's decision to scan the control device of the stasis generator. We had no idea that a scan would cause the device to disengage." Ensign Veral repeated. She was quite upset, now that the adrenaline rush was finished. "I didn't know." "It's all right, ensign," soothed Captain Thomas. "You did every- thing according to proper procedure." "I'm not so sure..." started Commander Monroe. Thomas spun to face him. "Ensign Veral is blameless, Commander. The critical actions were taken by commander T'sala, who likely had a damn good reason to believe she was safe," said Thomas. He was getting mad, which wasn't good because Veral was in the room. He realized this, and relaxed. "Ensign, was there any other information you managed to obtain from your scans?" "Yes, sir. It seems that the organism is female: a large egg pouch inside the body was detected. At least, that's what I thought it was. DNA material was detected. Commander T'Sala insisted that the data was incorrect due to interference patterns given off by the stasis device itself. I modified the array to bypass any bands where interference accounted for more than a two-percent variance. Commander T'Sala insisted it was not enough." Once talking about her job, Ensign Veral could function somewhat normally again. "Interesting. Thank you, ensign. You're dismissed." Ensign Veral rose and left the ready room. "The Cardassians are up to something, sir. I'm sure of it." Monroe seemed to have his theories verified, at least in his own mind. "Really, Commander." Captain Thomas's voice was cold. "The actions of one individual, not the Cardassian government. You seem to be looking for an excuse to start the war again." The bosun sounded. "Captain Thomas here." The voice on the other end of the intercom belonged to Doctor V'shath. "I need you down here, Captain." "What for?" "For security's sake, I'd rather tell you here, not over the intercom." Thomas looked at Monroe. "Understood, Doctor." Thomas shut off the intercom. "Take the bridge, Commander. I'll be in sickbay." Monroe began to protest, but didn't say a word. Captain Thomas headed toward sickbay, trying to decide how to transfer Thomas off of the ship. Thomas entered sickbay. The Cardassian was on a biobed, obviously asleep. T'Sala was on one of the two other biobeds, but with the creature on her face, it wasn't easy to tell what her condition was. There were also four security officers here. Thomas was wondering why, but Doctor V'shath immediately guided him into the soundproof office. "She's not Vulcan, Captain. She's Romulan." Doctor V'shath was, as usual, to the point. "Are you... never mind, of course you're sure. How did this slip past during regular examinations?" asked Thomas. "I think I know, sir: Vulcan officers do have the option of having regular physicals done by trained healers. Her record makes note of a condition of low blood pressure. Until a few years ago, she would have been given Leverol, but that stuff's dangerous and requires monitoring. Nowadays, the condition is treated with prolathine, which is pretty safe. It requires a checkup every year, but Leiutenant Commander T'Sala has only been aboard 10 months." "Interesting. I'll put her in the brig later. What about the facehugging thing?" Thomas asked. V'shath took a breath. "I can't take it off. Not without killing her. And considering her species, and our present state of relations with them, having her alive might be safest. There's bad news, though. It's injecting some sort of DNA into her. Maybe like a parasite; I've certainly never seen anything like it." "How about Starfleet medical? Do they know about anything like this?" "If they do, it's been declared classified. I've come up with nothing..." V'shath suddenly turned his attention away from Captain Thomas toward the entrance to the office. "What is it, Ensign?" Thomas turned around, to see one of V'shath's subordinates. "Sir, Commander T'Sala's condition is changing." V'shath was out of his chair. "What's going on, Chu?" "Unknown, sir. Computers analysis reports that T'Sala's stored proteins are being used somehow, probably by the parasite." V'shath swore. "Captain, if you'll excuse me..." "Of course, doctor." Captain Thomas rose out of his chair, because it was probably best to be leaving at this point. "Captain, Starfleet Command knows nothing of this. However, it is felt that this is an isloated incident." Admiral Francis Beldin continued. "The Cardassian government has denied any involvement with this incident." "Also, we have not had any similar incidents to this one reported before. Your lifeform (why is it suddenly my lifeform, thought Thomas) has not been previously documented. Course of action is at your discretion, Captain. Starfleet out." It had been an unusually long dispatch from the admiralty. Thomas hated unusually long dispatches from command, because they usually said "course of action is at your discretion." Then, if you screwed up, it was thrown back in your face. Thomas had reported the presence of a Romulan aboard the Kren, and Starfleet had been its usual hypereactive self. However, nothing seemed to make any sense, to admirals and captain alike. There was no real reason for a Romulan to be aboard a ship assigned to such a low-key mission. The presence of the parasite creature seemed to be of little importance to Command. And of course, they had been reluctant to point the finger at the Cardassians... The bosun sounded. (Thomas hated the old sound; newer ships had the much more pleasant beep, but the older ships were lucky to have working replicators.) "Yes?" "Captain, this is V'shath. We've confirmed the creature as some sort of parasite; oddly enough, something is growing inside of T'Sala. It's similar to the actions of some types of Terran insects, but..." V'shath's voice came through the speaker. "Ah, Doctor, in view of recent events, it might be best if we did not discuss this over the intercom. I'm on my way to sickbay. Thomas out." "Understood, Cap... what the hell? Nurse, prepare twelve CC's of..." The intercom cut out. Thomas was on his feet, racing to sickbay. Along the way, he almost longed for the comfortable boredom associated with the command of an obsolete ship. When Thomas got to sickbay, it looked like it always did. Except for the security contingent and two biobeds that were actually being used. Thomas could bear to look at T'Sala; it was disgusting to see her face totally covered by something looking remotely like a spider, but uglier and meaner. V'shath walked up to him immediately. "We can speak in my office, Captain." It was a veiled order, but Thomas didn't put up a fight. In the office, V'shath started talking. "The creature has injected some sort of lifeform into its host." V'shath started up the small imaging system on his desk, then turned it so that the Captain could see what he was about to explain. "This lifeform inside commander T'Sala seems to be growing on the lung. We classified it as a lifeform due to detection of respiratory and circulatory activities. But with the nature of what the creature uses for blood, surgical removal is impossible. There seems to be an embryonic sack formed around the lifeform." "Doctor, I understand, but what was going on a few minutes ago. You cut off the com with, and I quote, 'what the hell', and haven't explained yourself yet." Thomas look intently at Doctor V'shath. "I was a bit startled." "Damdest thing I ever saw, Captain. Damndest. I had Nurse T'Lar run a simple scan of the parasite, and T'Sala lifesigns went nuts. I thought we were going to lose her." V'shath looked up at Captain Thomas. "I don't care if she's a Romulan or a Horta, there's no way that should have happened." "All right, doctor. I need to know: how do you plan to remove the lifeform, if not surgically? Starfleet Command has plans for her." "I've only come up with one idea, and I'm having somebody from the science section set it up for me. Direct irradiation of the lifeform, in hopes of killing it. Then nanites to clean up the mess non surgically. I seriously doubt that they will complain." "Belay that doctor. I count myself luck that we're fortunate enough to have a stock of normal, non-sentient nanites aboard." Captain Thomas turned back to the matter at hand. "Direct irradiation seems rather dangerous, Doctor. You may be risking T'Sala's life here, with this plan, I mean. Why not use the transporter biofilter instead?" V'shath shook his head. "The stuff inside the sack is also acid. If the creature 'disapeared' that way, the sack would rupture. But whether dead by radiation poisoning, acid destroying vital organs, or the thing ripping its way out of her body, she's just as dead." Thomas realized he was out of his league. Fortunately, Nurse T'Lar choose that moment to enter. She began to speak. "Doctor, it seems T'Sala's internal nutrients are being depleted by either the parasite or associated lifeform. It may be logical to..." T'Lar was cut off by the whine of a phasor. Thomas had a sickning vision of T'Sala holding the ship hostage, maybe controlled by the horrible thing attached to her face. "What the hell..." started Thomas, rising from his chair. Nurse T'Lar was already out the door to discover the reason. Thomas and V'shath were not far behind. A security officer immediately reported to the Captain. "The creature just jumped of of commander T'Sala's face sir. It landed on the floor, then seemed to be moving toward the office. The creature has been termed hostile, therefore, I fired on it." The officer was a bit nervous. "It just fell over. I swear, I was set to stun." Meanwhile, Doctor V'shath had been examining the carcass of the facehugger. "It's dead, Captain. No life signs. Ensign, have someone take this thing to Biology. I don't give a damn about it anymore." One of the security officers spoke up. "I'll do it, sir. Do you have some sort of container I can carry it in?" The guy was not about to touch it with his hands. V'shath glanced at Nurse T'Lar. "Nurse," he said simply. T'Lar immediately moved to find something. "I'll be on the bridge, Doctor." Thomas looked at the Doctor for a second longer, and was aknowledged with a nod. He had learned to tolerate such things from busy doctors in his 19 years of command. "Captain's Log, stardat 432-- point 3. eThere has been an incident aboard the Kren." It didn't sound lofty and important, like one belonging to some legendary captain, like Kirk or Garth of Izar (or even Picard), but it was the only thing he could think of to start the log with. "Science Officer T'Sala is dead. Apparently, the parasitic creature, which had, well, attached itself to Commander T'Sala's head, was simply implanting a separate lifeform. T'Sala's body was used to incubate the creature, which then violently exited her body. This creture based upon reports by Security officers Benjeen and Smith, was bipedal, stretched head, spiny tail. A composite has been transmitted to Starfleet." "A post facto investigation of Commander T'Sala has revealed several iregularities. Apparantly, this Commander T'Sala was an imposter. There are few leads on the whereabouts of the real Commander T'Sala. A working hypothesis is that her personnel records were tampered with. This information has been declared by Starfleet to be top secret." It was actually quite horrifying, thought Thomas. The very idea that a member of Romulan intelligence could substitute actual personnel records of a Starfleet Officer. It was even more horrifying to think that this might not be an isolated incident. Add this to the present situation: a small, likely dangerous organism roaming the Kren. "The Cardassian citizen who brought the orginal, parasitic organism aboard has recovered, and is now in the brig. However, the Cardassian government this morning issued an official protest, due to the lack of an extradition treaty between the Cardassian Empire and the Federation. I am awaiting directives from the Admiralty in this matter." It was times like these that Thomas thought of retiring. He could go back to Earth, sit down at a pub somewhere near the Irish coast, and baske in the attention drawn by the fact that he was a captain of Starfleet. Of course, noone would actually have heard of the Kren, but they would still respect him for being a Captain. Thomas leaned back in his chair a took a breath. Reality struck him rather quickly. Shore leave, the earliest chance for leaving the Kren behind for good, was two months away; more if Starfleet didn't assign another ship to patrol the border. Thomas started on the home stretch of the log. "Security has been assigned to tracking and capturing the creature now loose aboard the Kren. This is in keeping with the doctrine of discovering and studying life, not destroying it. Thomas out." Thomas felt drained. It seemed that the log became more and more of a chore by the day. Formerly, when nothing happened aboard the ship, it had been something he had on occasion loked forward to. The bosun sounded. Thomas always seemed to be sitting, at the desk, when that happened. He hit the connection button. "Thomas here." "Sir, message from Starfleet. Eyes only." It was the security officer on duty; nowadays they seemed to have combined communications and security departments. "Put it in here, Lieutenant." The small monitor attached to the desk lit up, with a Starfleet insignia. "Voice authorization please." piped a voice from somewhere in the monitor. "Brian Thomas, Captain, U.S.S. Kren, identification code Kren-delta-I-L-alpha-C." The computer said nothing to the correct code, but the view on the monitor reformed into an Admiral. It wasn't Admiral Beldin this time. "Captain Thomas, you are hereby to return the Cardassian citizen to the custody of his shipmates." This took Thomas by suprise. "What?" The message continued, a packaged transmission with no room for interaction. "The Cardassian crusier Terai will rendezvous with the frieghter to take him to trial within the Empire." Where the guy would be commended, thought Thomas. "All information pertaining to Commander T'Sala has been classified as Top Secret. There is to be no discussion of this issue amongst your officers except when pertinent." No gossiping, then. "Admiral Mgowa out." Thomas let the information simmer in his mind for a moment. Then he had to get out of the office. Before his job got even more dispicable. When Thomas got to the bridge, Commander Monroe looked almost dissapointed when he gave up the con. Thomas had long ago learned to ignore this. "Lieutentant Corcoran, open a frequency to the freighter." Corcoran was quick. "Open, sir." The face of a Cardassian appeared on the screen. "Yes?" Thomas was unfazed by the officer's tone. "We have been ordered to return your crewmate to your custody. We are prepared to beam him to your ship." The Cardassian officer didn't appear receptive to the idea. "That is unacceptable. We have no assurances that he will not be an unfortunate victim of a transporter acident." Thomas immediately turned to Monroe, but only to smother an angry reaction that was sure to be coming. He succeeded. "Then perhaps you would like to use your own transporter system," replied Thomas. The Cardassian officer sneered. "This is a frieghter, Captain. Perhaps we are also rich enough to own warp drive capable of more than warp 4?" Thomas refused to get angry; it would only prolong things. However, Lientenant Corcoran spoke up before either of them could continue the verbal dance. "Sir, sickbay reports an automatic medical alarm, emanating for crew quarters on deck 9." It was standard procedure to report such thing except during a red alert. Under most similar circumstances, Thomas would have quieted her. But now... "Commander Monroe, check this out." Monroe didn't want to miss the situation on the bridge. More to the point, he felt that checking on a medical situation was below him. "But sir..." "Now Commander." Thomas looked back to the screen, bit happier. Monroe left the bridge. Thomas was just happy his rank could be used to his advantage for once. "I apologize for the interuption, Officer. Now, sir, the situation remains. It is your descision. How shall your crewmate be transported back to your ship?" The Cardassian quit stalling. "We will send a shuttle for him." The transmission cut. "That was enjoyable," muttered Thomas. V'shath looked at Thomas over some sort of foul smelling drink. The man didn't look as healthy as usual. "I have never been able to look at a body mutilated like that. Never. It's always gotten to me." What had happened was that something had forced its way into the quarters of a young Tellarite ensign and killed her. While Thomas was dealing with an ass of a Cardassian officer, the ensign had been totally torn apart. Blood had ended up everywhere in her quarters. The present theory was that it was the work of the creature that had burst out of Commander T'Sala's body. Of course, that creature had been less than half a meter tall. Whatever had killed Ensign Obun was nearly two meters tall. Or so said Security. "That's not a discrimating factor, Captain Thomas. There are hundreds of types of creatures who can grow that quickly." The bosun sounded. Lt Corcoran's voice came on, but didn't wait for a go ahead from Thomas. "Sir, security has found the bodies of three crewmembers. Totally mutilated, and stuffed into a ...ffries tube. Re...st your pre..." the comm clicked out completely. Thomas and V'shath went running for the bridge. "Lieutenant. It's not conceivable this creature couldhave taken out the internal communications system of the ship. There must be another agent aboard this ship." Corcoran spoke up. "That is a possibility, sir. However, the main junction was destroyed by molecular acid, which has never been used in any type of similar situation." The Kren's internal comm system was inoperative. Apparently, something has destroyed the main junctions, and the load had blown out the auxilaries. According the the designers of the Excelsior class, that wasn't supposed to happen. Of course, most of them were dead. "The auxilaries were probably sabotaged as well. Lieutenant, the chance against a non-intelligent creature doing this type of damage is infinitesimal." A beep sounded from the tactical board. "Sir, the Cardassian shuttle is requesting landing clearance." Corcoran was glad for the distraction. "Route them to the main bay, Lieutenant. Meanwhile, you are to begin counter intelligence efforts. Is that clear?" Corcoran still had a bit of fight in her eyes, but she wasn't stupid. "Yes, sir." She looked down at the board, then her eyes went wide. "Oh, my... shields up. Shields up!" Thomas looked at the board. The shuttle was not on a course to the main shuttle bay. It was locked onto a course that would cause it to impact to the rear of... the main bridge. Right near the main junction for half the systems of the ship. The computer voice recognition circuits did not respond. Thomas leapt toward the Nav station. "Move us!" It was too late. The ship was hit by a Cardassian shuttle on a suicude course. Everything seemed to fly out of place due to a huge impact. Then everything went black. As Thomas's perception faded, it once again occured to him how he was not in control of the situation... /\ The Illumnati: Proud To Be Serving You! / o \ Jason Ferguson: ferguson@[wizard,ogre].etsu.edu /______\ The Gnomes Of Zurich, Inc. Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Path: moe.ksu.ksu.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!darwin.sura.net!wupost!gumby!destroyer!sol.ctr.columbia.edu!eff!news.oc.com!wizard!f erguson From: ferguson@wizard.etsu.edu (Jason M Ferguson) Subject: STARFLEET VS ALIENS (4/?) Message-ID: <1992Oct28.193231.23277@ra.oc.com> Sender: usenet@ra.oc.com Reply-To: ferguson@wizard.etsu.edu (Jason M Ferguson) Organization: East Texas State University, Commerce, TX Date: Wed, 28 Oct 1992 19:32:31 GMT Lines: 154 Part 4. It's time to deal with the subject at hand. Next post will be parts 1-3, just as I promised last night. ---- Starfleet vs Aliens pt 4 ------------------------------------ "Captain... Captain!" Thomas opened his eyes to see Lietenant Corcoran shining a light into his eyes. He moved his head, but the light followed. "Enough, Lietenant," said Thomas, but it seemed that his voice came out as a groan. He started to get up, but Corcoran held him down. "You may be injured, sir. There's a med team on the way to the bridge." Corcoran put away the light she had been shing into Thomas's eyes. His vision adjusted, but only to emergency lights. Then he remembered. The shuttle. The romulan agent aboard the Kren. The murderer. He managed to put on an air of authority. "Status report." Corcoran winced, but managed to continue. "They knew where to hit us, sir. Half the systems on the ship are down, including the major computer functions. Replicators are not functioning, and turbolifts were automatically deactivated." Thomas began to slide himself into the conn chair, and was immediately assisted by Corcoran. "Life support?" "Undamaged, sir, thank god." A creak sounded, then the floor panel just forward of the entrance to the port turbolift opened. Two officers in blue uniforms entered through the emergency entrance. "How are you feeling, sir?" The medtech didn't wait for an answer; a tricorder was already out. "'Don't think anything's broken, Ensign Carth. Massive headache though." It was true: Thomas's head felt like someone had beaten it repeatedly with a large rock. "Hmmm. Slight concussion. Let me give you something for that." A hypospray was out and being used before Thomas could offer any type of input. As Thomas turned to Corcoran, the pain was already fading. "What's the medical status, Lietenant?" "100 or more dead, 5 missing, about 200 injured." Out of 500 crew, that left less than half the crew to handle the chaos that was bound to occur. "The frieghter self-destructed soon after the attack. However, we must assume the Cardassian cruiser is still on its way. According to the treaty, they should be able to assist us." "Interesting. And we have no way of knowing whether they will assist or finish us off, especially with no communications with Starfleet." It was time to take charge; the Kren was his ship, dammit. "I want all able officers in the briefing room in one hour excluding Doctor V'shath. He's got enough to do." Thomas looked around, and noticed the bridge was empty except for himself, Corcoran, and the medtechs. "Get some poeple on the bridge, and take the con. I'm going to Engineering." "I think we can do it, sir. The impulse engines themselves weren't damaged, only the control circuits. We can transfer control directly to engineering and get the ship moving." Lieutenant Elaine Bradley was in charge of engineering, at least until Chief Engineer Lugon was judged ready for duty. "But I only have 5 uninjured people here, and we also have the priority of restoring power." "Lieutenant, at this point I don't care how you do the job. Find other personnel, or do it all yourself. It's up to you, so long as the job gets done." Thomas looked around. Regular lighting had at least been restored here. "You know what the priorities are. When you get the engines working, don't wait, just set a course away from the border and give it all the speed the ship can take." "Aye, sir. If I may?" Bradley began to turn, a clear signal that she was ready to get to work. Thomas nodded. "Good luck." And Thomas entered the access tube. Hopefully, once the computer was back online, the turbolifts would work again. Commander James Monroe was involved in attempting to find survivors of the Cardassian attack. This meant a long trip, everywhere in the ship, to all duty stations, to locate the 5 officers still missing. Along the way he had time to think. This definitely meant the restart of the war. The Cardassians attack a non-threatening ship, but think Starfleet will let them get away with it. That's how they had started the first war. Monroe was walking down a corridor on deck 5, with the odd lighting caused by the emergency lights. The red lights being so dim, he could see about 10 yards ahead. He heard a crash, from a room ahead, on the left side of the coridor. Somebody may be trapped inside a station with a door jammed shut. Monroe got to the door. He was about to attempt to open the door, when he thought it might be prudent to yell what he was attempting to do. "This is Commander Monroe. Whoever is in there, we'll get you out, so please stay calm. We will get the door open for you." Monroe wasn't ready for what happened. The door opened, as if it hadn't been jammed in the first place. And standing in the door... A creature, taller than Monroe, stood in the doorway. Hissing at him. A huge head, a bony body, and a nasty attitude about being discovered seemed to confront him. Monroe forgot the phaser at his side. He turned and ran. The zenomorph was kind enough to offer a second's head start before giving chase. The corridors flashed by at warp speeds. Monroe had never run so quickly in his life. Ahead of him: a branching corridor. He turned to go down it, thinking it may throw the creature off of his trail. As he made the quick turn, his momentum slammed him into a wall of the branching corridor. He tried to keep his balance, but went down. His phaser fell off his belt, and landed in front of his face. Monroe grabbed it. And fired into the darkness. Then he heard a noise that wasn't exactly a scream, closer to a hiss. Some type of growl, maybe. Monroe fired three shots into the darkness, at varying angles, hoping one shot would take it down. There was some type of high-pitched, alien scream. Monroe got up and started running, toward the closest access tube. He hadn't noticed his phaser was set only on level three. "It's got to be 2 meters tall. Biped, extended head. And extremely nasty." Monroe had pulled himself toghether in time for the staff meeting. Thomas thought for a moment. Commander Monroe may not be Command material in the strictest sense, but he had never lied. Not in the few times it really had matter, anyway. "And you hit it with a phaser blast?" "At least once, maybe twice," said Monroe. "Unfortunately, it was only set on stun." Lieuntenant Corcoran spoke up. "But did it stop following you upon being hit?" "I think so. I didn't go back and make sure." "Alright. The situation is that we are aboard a crippled ship, with a hostile organism along for the ride. There may be Romulan agents aboard. What I want to know is what we do about it." "We are moving away from the border, at 3/4 impulse speed. The warp drive should be back up in two days," said Chief Engineer Bradley. Her predessesor hadn't survived. "Monroe, we need to set course for starbase 118, then. Our priority has to be the elimination of the creature by that time." Thomas. "Furthermore, toward that goal, all personnel are to be assigned phasers. Personnel should travel in minimum groups of two. That thing is dangerous. Dismissed." The majority of participants at the meeting headed for their respective stations. Thomas, Monroe, and Corcoran headed for the bridge. The internal comm net had been restored. Along the way, it came to life. "Turbolift service has been restored. Repeating: turbolift service has been restored." The situation could now be reported to the surviving crew in a normal manner. "Thank god," said Monroe. Thomas almost agreed, but kept his mouth shut as they entered the lift. "Bridge," ordered Thomas. The turbolift started moving. Soon enough, it was at the bridge. Captain Thomas would never forget the sight as the bridge doors opened. The accessway was open... and had definitely been used... There were three mutilated bodies on the bridge. Exactly as the first body had been. /\ The Illumnati: Proud To Be Serving You! / o \ Jason Ferguson: ferguson@[wizard,ogre].etsu.edu /______\ The Gnomes Of Zurich, Inc. Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Path: moe.ksu.ksu.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!cs.utexas.edu!usc!sol.ctr.columbia.edu!eff!news.oc.com!wizard!ferguson From: ferguson@wizard.etsu.edu (Jason M Ferguson) Subject: STARFLEET VS ALIENS (5/?) Message-ID: <1992Oct30.190704.3403@ra.oc.com> Sender: usenet@ra.oc.com Reply-To: ferguson@wizard.etsu.edu (Jason M Ferguson) Organization: East Texas State University, Commerce, TX Date: Fri, 30 Oct 1992 19:07:04 GMT Lines: 128 This one's shorter than the other parts, but there are two reasons: fear of burnout plot twist at the end of this part and now, part 5 of Starfleet vs Aliens (or oh my god, phasers don't hurt it, sir!- Ensign Lucas Danson) "Captain's log. It's been six hours since Commander Monroe and I discovered the bodies of the bridge crew." Thomas was recording the report on a separate recorder, which stored all information directly to an isolinear chip. "There is no doubt that this creature brought aboard by a Cardassian officer professing need for medical assistance is the cause of this. There have been 12 further disapearances, which we attribute to this creature." "Notable amongst the disapearances is Chief Medical Officer V'shath. We have no idea why the creature has kidnapped certain personnel. The personnel who are gone seem to have been chosen randomly. Perhaps they were in the wrong place at the wrong time." "The Exobiologists haven't classified this creature yet. They continue to study the original parasite, but have learned very little. I find it hard to call this a priority at this time." "Another 30 officers have died in the last 12 hsours. This leaves about 400 people left aboard the ship. I'm ordering all personnel to move to certain areas of the ship until we manage to destroy this... thing." "We hope this way to be able to guard more effectively against any further attacks by the creature. There should be safety in numbers." "I sincerly hope this recording makes it into the hands of Starfleet command." There was definetly the possibility of the ship not making it back to starbase, thought Thomas. Warp drive was a lost hope, and communications had not been restored. There were barely enough healthy officers to run the ship, and those that remained were becoming targets. The thing had not made it to sickbay and the gym, where injuries were being treated. Commander Monroe stood in the assembly room. There, about 200 officers were setting up camp. Bedding materials, food supplies, and other nessesities of life were pilling up. This was going to have to be home for these people until the creature was caught. Of course, it definitely would be, and soon. Security was tracking it, with phasers set to kill. Lieutenant Corcoran hated jeffries tubes. It was a chore crawling through them, especially if you weren't alone. "What are your reading telling you, Johnson?" It wasn't likely the damn thing was anywhere near here, but it was her job to check every section, then seal it off. "Ah, nothing here, sir." Ensign Danson held the tricorder. Fresh out of the academy, he had been one of the ones who weren't lucky enough to get one of the more choice assignments. So he got an assignment to an Excelsior class. A light started blinking on the tricorder. "Wait a minute, sir. Got movement coming from C-3, up ahead." Danson wished he hadn't been the one on duty to see that. Corcoran's face remained unchanged, like any other security chief's would have been. "Okay. Seal up behind you. We might have the thing." "Aye, sir." Danson toggled a switch, and a barrier slid down. Starfleet had thought of this inovation when the Excelsior class was introduced. It helped prevent any type of takeover of the ship. Corcoran and Danson moved ahead. "Where are Corcoran and Danson? They haven't reported in in two hours," stated Thomas. "I have no more information than you do, sir. We may have to assume the worst, since they were tracking the thing." Monroe stood up from his chair; he felt a sudden need to move around. There was plenty of room, for two of the officers usually present at staff meetings were missing. V'shath had never reappeared, and Security Chief Corcoran had disapeared on her mission of tracking the creature. The only people in the room were Thomas, Monroe, and Bradley. "The computer is nearly back online. I just have to throw a few resets and it's up. But at least it's something." Bradley seemed to be concentrating on some unseen problem. "But there were some override switches set to the main memory core. I think we are definitely looking at espionage here. I'm pretty sure the switches are disabled. The computer is our highest priority now. We can use it to track the creature and bring the engines back online." Thomas scratched his chin. "Can you be sure the switches were disabled?" he asked. "They weren't anything I'd ever seen before, sir. I can't guarantee anything, but it would seem to be the lesser of two evils. The overrides were connected to the communications array, mainly. With that rerouted, there shouldn't be too much to worry about." Bradley was not exactly overconfident, but she was in an unusual situation. "The Romulans were trying to route the Kren's databanks through the subspace array directly to them, then. They likely felt that the Kren would be an easier target than a top-of-the-line ship," said Monroe. "It sounds plausible. Reactivate the computer with all due haste. Since navigation has been transferred to engineering, bring the engines online and aim us at the closest starbase." Thomas stopped as Bradley's communicator beeped. It was one of the older, handheld models that were still being used in place of the comm system. "Bradley here." "The computer is ready to be reactivated. We're awaiting your orders." "Do it. Give me a report as you do it." "Understood, sir. Let's see, hmm... it skipped diagnostic for some reason... resident programs being loaded... Jesus! Shut it down! Shut it down!" "What is it, Miller?" "Sir, navigation has been transferred to the computer... Pull the chips if you have to! Good god, it's running through... It's trying to crack the Captain's codes! It's trying to take over control! Sir, request you come down here!" The disembodied voice shut off. Bradley was out of the door in a flash. "Sir, Starfleet reports that the starship Kren has been reported missing along the Cardassian border." "Missing, Data?" "Yes, Captain. No communication for three days. Since the Enterprise is the closest vessel to the border, we have been asked to investigate." Data looked down at his console. "At warp six, we can be there in eleven hours, 22 minutes." "Set course, warp six Mr. Data." "Course set, Captain." "Engage."