Star Trek: "Before Destruction!"* - An Original Novel By Michael RossiAuthor's Note: The following story takes place immediately after the 'Vintage' Trek episode entitled "Requiem for Methuselah". It also ties into the entire Trek world, thankfully created by the late Gene Roddenberry. Specific episodes that are referenced prominently are: "Requiem for Methuselah", "Whom Gods Destroy", "Day *f the Dove" and "Errand of Mercy". As with all works in the Trek universe, this one takes a few liberties... but only a few, and maintains the "Character" and "Spirit" that has made Trek my favorite world of imagination. Although this story relies on past episodes, it is independent of any other "S.T. Novel" or the contents therein. I would like to take this time to thank the writer's of the aforementioned episodes, and all the others who have contributed to the world of Trek in a positive way. Specifically I wish to thank them for showing me that, although fictional, it reflects hope, truth, loyalty, justice, honor, faith, and love. Trek authors have boldly gone where others have feared to tread. Tackling delicate issues of morality and justice unflinchingly, from the very beginning. Episodic topics have ranged from the "Cold War" to the "Bible" and have always spoken to current issues with an underlying sense of the "right" and "wrong" of them, or the "good" and "evil". I attribute the success of the series not merely to the actors and crew, but to these writers who envisioned a hopeful future, but never left the wisdom of the past. Thank you. Mike --------------------------------------MORE-------------------------------------- And Now: Star Trek: "Before Destruction"* *Star Trek is a Registered Trademark of Paramount Pictures Copyright 1991 by Michael Rossi ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *** PROLOGUE *** Captain James Tiberius Kirk, of the Starship Enterprise, yielded finally to the merciful, if often elusive, hand of sleep. Dr. Lenard McCoy had helped him on his way. His cabin was darkened as he sat behind his desk with his head down atop folded arms. The sleeves of his gold and black Captain's uniform were still moist from the tears he was unable to hold back any longer. Though asleep, he was neither at rest nor at peace. Phantasms of his tormented heart were there to greet him as he entered the place of his dreams. Behind him, like a chiselled monolithic sentinel, stood the Vulcanian Science Officer, Spock. He looked upon his Captain, moved with a compassion he had never experienced before. Not expressed on his face, nor seen in the fathomless depths of his eyes, the emotion drove him, forcing him to a decision. His logical mind did what it could to prevent him from acting, but the force from his half-human heart was irresistible. The pain of his Captain was now inexplicably yet undeniably his own. And then the decision was made. Spock, the man, moved towards his Captain, and gently placed his fingers upon the troubled brow of his friend. He closed his own eyes and concentrated. "Forget," he spoke to the heart of his Captain, "Forget..." * * * "They will be coming..." the voice spoke out prophetically. "How many?" came a second voice with a strange sadness in it. "Two ships, one from either side. But only one of their 'landing parties' will descend," answered the first voice. "Should we prevent them from approaching?" came a third voice. "No," said the second, "It must be." "They are fearful. They believe we have answers to their fear," said the first. "Perhaps they are correct but they may not wish to hear what we have to say. For they have heard the truth from the beginning, and are still willingly ignorant of it. The pride of their vain imagination, their love of 'self', these are points of their blindness. Nevertheless, we are merely messengers of the truth, not creators of it... Let them come," spoke the second voice. "Let them come," agreed the third voice. "They shall come..." prophesied the first. PAGE A *** ONE *** Captain's personal log, Stardate: 5845.9. "It has been mere hours since we have left orbit around Holberg 917g, yet my memory of it seems to fade with our increasing distance. Holberg, was not on our intended agenda but a necessary break from our course, for on its surface in crude form was the vital mineral "Ryetalyn" which when refined was the main ingredient for a cure to Rigellian Fever. A landing party from the Enterprise had contracted Rigellian Fever weeks ago and the virus had swept the crew, which made our need one of desperation. Upon arrival at the out-of-the way planet, Myself, First Officer Spock and Dr. Leonard McCoy found the dwelling of a most amazing man." "We found that the man, Flint, living in isolation from the rest of the universe, had no record of ever existing on file in any Starfleet or Federation memory banks. That is, under the name of Flint. However, our observations of his personal possessions..." Captain James T. Kirk sat upright in his chair. To his astonishment, he could not recall any of his previous observations of Flint's personal possessions. In fact, he was losing most of the thoughts that he was sure he had only moments ago concerning the man. He remembered the floating M-4 robot that gathered the Ryetalyn. He remembered the end result; his crew whole again. But there was much missing... and something painful. Something that could burst his heart, were he able to recollect what that 'something' was. "Captain Kirk, this is Lieutenant Uhura, please respond." The communications speaker broke the dark silence of his cabin and snapped Kirk's head up. The Captain blinked twice, hard, to arouse himself out of his trance-like state of thought. He reached for the comm button and winced at a small pain in his side. "Kirk here; what is it, Lieutenant?" "I have picked up a weak distress signal, Sir. I couldn't make out anything vocally but they used the emergency frequency with a pulse wave." "Were you able to pin-point its origin?" "It came from quadrant eight seventy-one, Captain. No specific location as of yet, but I'm trying to narrow it down." Her voice was steady, yet expressed her concern. "Eight seventy-one? Then it hasn't reached Starbase Sixteen yet?" He understood her concern. It was very likely that they were the only ones who had heard the distress signal. "No Sir. If it makes it there at all, it won't be for another two hours. It is very weak, Captain." PAGE 1 "Two point one three hours, Captain," Spock added, obviously standing close to Uhura. "Thank you Mr. Spock. Lieutenant Uhura, contact Starfleet concerning the signal. Inform them that we are going in to locate its origin." Kirk switched off his log recorder. "Mister Sulu?" "Yes, Sir!" The deep voice spoke confidently. "Set course for quadrant eight seventy-one, warp seven." "Aye aye, Sir," replied Sulu. Captain Kirk changed the comm channel to the intra-ship setting. "This is Captain Kirk, all hands Yellow Alert, repeat, Yellow Alert!" * * * Captain Kirk strode onto the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. Glancing across the spacious cabin, he noted all were at their stations doing what he knew, was their best. "What do we have in quadrant eight seventy-one, Mr. Spock?" The tall and lean Science Officer turned towards his Captain placing his arms behind his back in a "parade rest" fashion. His shiny black hair gleamed in the luminescence of the overhead lighting. Some time ago, he could state exactly when, Spock had committed to memory all Starbases and Federation outposts in all quadrants. "Science Station Copernicus, Elba II, six abandoned Dilithium mines, and the Golon Star System, Captain," he stated. "It is, however, heavily traversed by Federation cargo barges and privately owned freighters," he added in a formal, even tone. "Keptin, it is only vun sector avay from the Klingon Neutral Zone. Close enough to make a tribble squeal," said Ensign Checkov with a suppressed smile on his face. Sulu, his companion at the helm, didn't bother to suppress his. "So noted Mister Checkov. Uhura, try to make contact with Copernicus and Elba II." Kirk took the center seat, symbol of both a Captain's power and authority. He stared at the main view screen watching the stars unfold. He leaned forward and rested his right elbow on the arm of his chair, placing his chin in the palm of his hand. The bright starscape before him was breathtaking, but even so, his mind began to drift back to the Holberg expedition. 'Something painful?' He went over the events again in his mind; Rigellian fever, Holberg 917g, Ryetalyn, the M-4 robot, Flint, bruised ribs. 'Bruised ribs?' Jim Kirk put his hand to his side. He could feel the Flexi- truss under his shirt, and realized he did indeed have bruised ribs, but try as he might, he could not recall a single detail about how they came to be that way. PAGE 2 "Captain," Uhura spoke softly. Jim snapped his head up, realizing he was brooding in front of his crew. 'They all get paranoid when I brood.' He thought to himself, and spoke, "Yes, Lieutenant?" "Science Station Copernicus confirms their reception of the distress signal." "Did they locate the source?" He swiveled his chair to face the beautiful, dark skinned communications officer. "It's coming through now, Sir." She placed her hand to her ear to block out the various sounds emanating from the bridge. "There seems to be some kind of interference, Sir. I can't make out their message. Possibly they are experiencing a solar flare or something releasing a large amount of energy in their quad." "Mister Spock?" He turned to his First Officer. "Analyzing, Captain." The Vulcan bent over his science station's instrument panel. "Unsure, Captain. As the Lieutenant pointed out, there is a vast dispersal of energy between Copernicus and our present course heading. However, from the effect it is having on the subspace channel, I would hypothesize that it is an unnatural event." "I have it now, Sir," Uhura said. "Copernicus reports they have identified the source code of the distress call. It came from a space-vessel named the 'Fringe Ranger', in the immediate vicinity of Elba II." "The Fringe Ranger? Spock, search the records and let me know what information you can find on it." Kirk returned his chair to its foreword position. "Alter course for Elba II, Mister Sulu." "Aye, Sir." The turbo-lift opened with a 'swoosh'. Dr. McCoy in his blue medical uniform, stepped out silently. He looked down to the man in the center seat. McCoy had been and continued to be concerned with Jim's emotional state. Deep depression in anyone can hinder judgement and cause abnormal actions and reactions. In a Starship Captain, the consequences escalate exponentially. In worst cases, it could jeopardize the safety of the crew. But it was Jim Kirk, his friend, whom he worried about. "Sickbay is ready, Jim." The Doctor rested on the upperdeck's arm-rail. "How soon till we know any more?" "Soon. We are on course for Elba II, Doctor. I trust you are equally prepared to minister to their specific needs as well?" Elba II had been the only mental institution in the Federation for the criminally insane for nine years. "I'm prepared for every contingency. Which reminds me, I have PAGE 3 a special prescription prepared for you in my cabin when you can find the time." "One of your '100 Proof' remedies?" Jim said, hoping it wasn't a sneaky ploy to get him close enough to sickbay to give him a physical. "I'll have to pass until this is taken care of, Bones." Spock turned from his station's computer console, "Captain, the Fringe Ranger is a decommissioned Yeager-Class cruiser with a complement of thirty-seven officers and crew, now carrying supplies to frontier colonies and Starfleet outposts. It was apparently enroute to Elba II. I have also analyzed her distress signal with interesting results." Kirk nodded for him to continue. "The signal appears to have been sent prior to the phenomena causing the subspace disturbance, and I estimate a 97.43 probability that it was being jammed from close proximity." "Jammed?" Kirk rose from his chair and moved to the science station. He observed the readings indicating that it was so. The flattened waves and distorted peaks of the line image looked very much like a jammed signal. "Who would jam a distress call in Federation space?" the doctor asked no-one in particular. "As Mr. Checkov pointed out earlier, we are not far from the Klingon Neutral Zone, and pirates have been known to be operative in this sector. Mr. Sulu, precautionary Red Alert. Mr. Checkov, Screens up, charge phasers," the Captain ordered. The alert claxon sounded, causing the crew's adrenal glands to surge in preparation for the emergency tasks they so often were required to perform. Ignorance was the greatest cause of fear among the battle-ready members. Not knowing the situation causing the alert allowed their minds to race in all directions. The Captain had been on the other end of command, and understood his crew's need for information. "Kill the claxon, Mr. Sulu." Jim returned to his chair, standing next to it, and again pressed the intra-ship comm. "This is the Captain speaking. We are on a rescue mission, but have cause to believe there may be enemy involvement. It may be a false alarm, but stay sharp. Kirk out." The sensor panel by Spock crackled with electricity then exploded, to the surprise of everyone. Before Spock could ascertain the reason for this, the Enterprise was hit hard by some powerful but unseen force. The ship rocked and vibrated, pitching those standing to the floor and causing several more overloads on the sensor panel. Sparks flew and smoke billowed from the unit's side vents. "Mr Spock, what hit us?" Kirk asked, regaining his footing. Another jolt, less in severity, hit the ship. Spock, also gathering himself up from the deck replied, "A PAGE 4 concussion-energy wave of some magnitude. Sensor feedback shorted out any early warning we might have received," "Lieutenant Uhura?" The Captain did not have to make a complete request of the communications officer. The closeness of the bridge officers occasionally circumvented any need of formal query in events such as this. "Damage to shields 3 and 4, long and short range sensors are out, minor structural damage below C deck. Engineering reports," her report was interrupted by a voice over the bridge speaker. "Capt'n, we got a problem with the main energizers. How long are ya gonna keep ma engines goin at full tilt?" said the definitively Scottish voice of the Chief Engineer. "We will be going sublight in a matter of minutes, Mr. Scott. Keep us on line until then, please." "I'll try Sir, but the intermix reactor to me port nacelle just went into the yellow. I wouldn'a like you to have to jettison the whole unit." The doctor slipped off the bridge into the turbolift. No matter how little damage there was, you could count on 5 or 6 patients appearing in Sickbay with bloody noses and minor abrasions. With blood dripping from his left nostril, the doctor wanted to get in line before the "Coagul-aid" was used up. "Coming up on the Petroski solar system and Elba II, Captain," reported Sulu. "Slow to one quarter impulse power, with Mr. Scott's permission," Jim Kirk said, looking up at the bridge speaker. "Aye Sir, Scott out." "Slowing, Sir." "Keptin, we are peeking up debris on collision sensors. They appear to be asteroids directly in front of us vair there should be none," said Checkov. "Increase forward viewer magnification to 40. How are the shields holding Mr. Checkov?" "Shields at 78 percent, Sir." The stars were shining brightly in the distance, but in front of them, increasingly blotting out the pinpoints of light, were dark spinning rocks growing in size as the Enterprise neared them. "How much longer before we have short range sensors back?" the Captain directed toward Uhura. PAGE 5 "Tech crew says we may have short range back in 10 minutes. They haven't given me an estimate on the long range sensors as of yet, Sir." The Captain nodded in acknowledgement, "Mr. Sulu, all stop." With steady hands on the instruments, "Slowing," Sulu stated. "All stop, Sir," he reported. "Thrusters at station-keeping." Spock observed the forward view screen with arms folded across his chest. "Captain, the asteroids still appear to be advancing in our direction rapidly." Kirk examined the distant rocks on the screen as Spock continued. "By their angle of trajectory and dispersal, I would estimate they originated from some central point ahead of our present course. Possibly from the event point of the energy dispersal that has been disturbing our communications." "They are getting closer, aren't they." He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled noisily, as if he was about to do something that he wished he didn't have to. "Mr. Sulu, do you recall what regulations state about a Starship entering a field of asteroids?" The Oriental officer looked at his comrade sitting next to him, and answered in an uncertain voice. "Uh, I believe section 139, paragraph 62 or 63 states 'Stay the heck away from them unless it's an emergency'. Paraphrased, Sir." "Are you willing to make the attempt?" Kirk asked him. A wry smile appeared on the adventurous Lieutenant's face, still looking at Checkov, who gave him an uncomfortable nod. "I think so, Captain" "In that case, shields double front Mr. Checkov. Arm Photon torpedoes, we may need to blast our way through a few of them. Do not wait for my command to fire. That may take too long." He pressed the intra-ship communication switch. "This is the Captain; prepare for rough maneuvers. We will be piloting through a hazardous area so take all precautions accordingly. Captain out." Then to the lieutenant with whom he now entrusted his ship, "Take us through, Mr. Sulu, and try to save the paint job." "Aye, Sir, accelerating to point zero-four sub-light." The sleek giant of a Starship moved closer toward the oncoming space debris. The first tiny particles hit the shields, making sparks visible on the main viewer. Although the vacuum of space made it impossible, the bridge crew could almost hear the micro asteroids hiss, as they came in contact with the ship's protective energy barrier. The larger asteroids were now approaching. The collision alarm blasted through the silence on the bridge, then ceased as the Captain signaled its termination. The Enterprise suddenly pitched PAGE 6 starboard then to port as Sulu deftly navigated her through the deadly floating rocks. The crew was being pulled side to side, as the artificial gravity strained to adjust to the inertial force changes. Then their motion changed to up and down as the ship narrowly missed a large one cutting across her bow. It was as if they were on some mad man's ride in an amusement park, but amusement was not what the crew was experiencing. Without warning, spiraling in from the side, came a jagged asteroid that Sulu couldn't move around in time. Almost immediately upon seeing it, it exploded. It was destroyed by a torpedo that shot away from the ship like a fiery dart to obliterate the cold rock. And still the asteroids came. Dodging the larger ones was becoming easier, but the smaller ones could neither be avoided, nor targeted in time. They hit the ship in a unmerciful barrage, jolting and shaking the vessel until she felt as if she was going to come apart. Flashes of powerful energy lit up the viewer as torpedo after torpedo shot from the ship's underside and either intercepted, or missed their targets. The strain on the ship could be heard over the whine of her impulse engines, accelerating and decelerating. And then came... silence, as Enterprise sliced through the ebony sky on the other side of the asteroids. Sulu was the first to breathe a sigh of relief, before the rest of the bridge crew realized the danger had passed. He looked over to Checkov, who was shaking a little, then noticed that he, himself, could not remove his hands from the controls. The Captain, being just that, would not let his crew know the extent of his relief, but he stepped down behind Sulu and Checkov and rested his hands on their shoulders. "Next time we get to Aldebaron, I'm buying." Spock, apparently unruffled by their ordeal, noticed the green light on his science station's short range scanner and gave it his attention. "Captain, Short range sensors are now operational," he announced. "We are nearing Jirus, the fifth planet in the Petroski solar system... Fascinating," he stated, looking into the apparatus. "Captain, Jirus does not appear to be in its natural orbit." "This is... not good." He rubbed his chin slowly. "Uhura, have you been able to contact Elba II at all, or receive any of their transmissions?" "No contact yet, Sir." "Spock?" He turned to his first officer, who was still looking down into his station's scanning equipment. "One moment, Sir." Spock pressed two buttons without looking up from the equipment, pressed another, then straightened himself and turned toward Kirk. "Captain, " he said, "Elba II is not there." He waited for the full meaning of what he said to sink in. "I believe we may have just passed through the remains of the planet." PAGE 7 "My God, Spock, are you certain?" Kirk said in astonishment. "It would explain the orbital shift of its neighboring planet Jirus," said the Vulcan. "The mass loss of one planet would effect the gravitational pulls of the entire system." "Uhura," said the captain, "Contact Starfleet Command. Tight beam, and scrambled. I want it to penetrate that energy wave. Fill them in and inform them we will scan the area for debris. Then prepare a warning buoy directing all ships away from this area." Jim Kirk paused, thinking of Governor Cory, administrator of the Elba II colony. A good man, gone. "Launch buoy when ready," he said. "Aye, Sir," Uhura said while already beginning to carry out the order. "Klingon devils!" Checkov murmured bitterly to himself, though just loud enough to be heard. "Do you really think the Klingons would violate the Organian Peace Treaty, Sir?" Sulu asked his Captain. "Without a moment's remorse, if they had any reason to and thought they could get away with it. However the Organians, not us, are the enforcers of the treaty." "What if they have found a way to cloak themselves from Organia like the Romulans cloak their ships from us?" questioned Sulu. "Anything is possible, but I seriously doubt it," Kirk said as he glanced over to his First Officer who appeared completely engrossed with his scanner. "Opinion, Mr. Spock?" Spock, of course, had taken the conversation in. And while quite busy with his other duties, he had plenty of time to analyze the situation and formulate hypotheses. "It seems unlikely that the Klingons would have such technology to do so, Captain. I believe we may also rule out privateers, unless their ship was completely filled with anti-matter warheads, which I estimate as equally unlikely," said the First Officer, not looking up from his scanner. "There is one more possibility, which I find more probable than the previously stated hypothesis." Sudden remembrance flooded Kirk's mind. It had only been a few months ago, though their many adventures had made it seem like decades, that a once-great Starship Captain, driven mad, had battled Kirk and nearly killed him. His last memory of the great man was one of hope and respect born anew, for a cure to the man's insanity had been administered. Jim became angry with himself for letting recent events cloud his mind, keeping him from seeing what Spock clearly observed. "Captain Garth," Kirk said, almost allowing the sorrow of PAGE 8 losing a personal hero to become apparent in his voice. 'and something painful' the thought seemed to haunt him. Finally looking up from his station, Spock faced his Captain. "It is a logical conclusion, considering the potency of the explosive he created. However one could only guess as to the events that caused its detonation." "It was a very unstable material." Jim Kirk choked back the strange and sudden surge of emotion that had grabbed him a moment ago. His emotions seemed strangely 'raw' today. "He told me that it could be set off just by dropping it to the floor." "And tremendously powerful," Spock added. "Remember the level of destruction that one grain caused. It is little wonder Starfleet delayed moving the substance. With Elba II as isolated as it was, there was far less risk in storing it in Governor Cory's vaults than transporting it to another location." Jim stepped from his chair, "I don't like it Spock. Something doesn't fit." The Captain caught himself just as he was about to start pacing. Instead he leaned against his command chair. "Precautions had been taken in storing the explosive. It was held in the center of a stasis sphere by anti-gravitons, with its own power supply, much like we use to contain antimatter." "It is possible that some hostile attempt was made against the planet causing the containment field to fail and detonation to occur. However that would again indicate the Klingons on several counts." Spock placed his hands on the rail before him and nodded toward Checkov. "First, Elba II maintained a constant planetary force field around itself, making it virtually impenetrable to anything smaller than a military cruiser. Second, Elba II's scanning equipment would have detected any unauthorized traffic long before it reached the planet unless it had a cloaking device." Keeping in mind that this line of reasoning still lacked any cohesive evidence, not to mention the problem the Organian's posed in the equation, he relented. "There are actually many scenarios that could explain much of what happened. However, until we have more facts for our analysis, we can only speculate." "Keep scanning, Mr. Spock. Mr. Sulu, assemble a recon team to collect any debris floating out there. Maybe we can piece this mystery together before Starfleet Intelligence gets here." PAGE 9 *** TWO *** Light-years away, at the edge of Federation-occupied space, defense outposts guard a zone of space currently designated as 'off-limits' to all vessels, Federation or otherwise. This Neutral Zone separates the United Federation of Planets from the ruthless and powerful Klingon Empire. Both galactic powers were initially allowed by treaty to peacefully enter the Zone. But tensions between the two opposing forces had escalated to such a point that no contact between the two powers could be called peaceful or productive, by either government. The Zone had become a central point for espionage and counter-intelligence, making neither side confident that its military secrets remained secret. Each outpost skirting the Zone is a fully armed battle station, carrying the equivalent firepower of a light destroyer. The border is patrolled regularly by a rotating shift of Starfleet's finest cruisers and destroyers. These precautions are designed as a check and balance system, assuring total compliance with the pre-established Klingon/Federation treaty. The standing orders at each outpost are as follows: 1. Hail all vessels approaching Neutral Zone and warn them off. 2. If compliance is negative; fire one warning volley and advise Starfleet via designated patrol vessel. 3. If negative compliance continues; disable vessel if possible, destroy vessel if not. Outpost Delta Gamma 13 spotted the distant ship streaking towards the Neutral Zone. On the outpost's main battle bridge, night-watch was on duty. "Commander O'Hara, I have an outbound vessel at 038, warp 7!" Lieutenant Tomy announced. She was a bit excited, it being her first tour of duty and first day at this post. The tall, fair-haired Irish Commander, O'Hara, had almost finished his own tour of duty on DG-13. He had felt that this assignment was a form of punishment for the practical joke he played on his former Captain while aboard the USS Yorktown. It is an established fact, that few people enjoy transporting down to a planet, only to find that their underwear has materialized on the outside of their uniform. Though the Commander had not actually been caught in the act, everyone knew who had perpetrated it. Neither was he openly blamed for placing nitrous oxide cannisters in the emergency respirators just before the Yorktown went on "Environment Alert" drills. It was all true, what people said about him; O'Hara was a compulsive practical joker. Though he never meant any harm with his humorous escapades, he always seemed to over-do his pranks on PAGE 10 the very people who appreciated them the least. Usually they were the ones who also out-ranked him. And although he tried, O'Hara could not even force himself to stop. If there were humor in it, O'Hara would go out of his way to play or overplay the joke. "I'm right here, me darlin'. You don't have to shout," said Commander O'Hara to the young and nervous Lieutenant. He stood behind her and sipped a warm cup of coffee. "Sorry, Sir. I'm sending the standard transmission now." She touched her index finger lightly on the pressure sensitive switch and the high intensity warning signal was sent out, automatically placing the outpost on yellow alert. The slightly scaly alien Ensign at the weapons console turned sluggishly toward the Commander and announced, "Defense fields activated; station recorder is on; all 'feet' on yellow alert." The ensign was a Frillian from the planet Narn. His face looked more reptilian than anything else, and his ever-open green eyes were large, with long vertical pupil slits in his iris. His uniform was cut to suit his unique physiognomy. He had eight appendages in all, and a short stub of a tail. Frillians, not having hands to speak of, use their long digited feet to operate all equipment; One set of four to grasp and manipulate, the other set of four to walk with. Mr. Spitt did, however, know the difference between 'Hands', a ship's company and 'Hands',the things that make it easier to pick your nose, but it pleased him to constantly punctuate the physiological differences between their species. "That's gettin ta be old, Mr. Spitt. Why doncha try to be a wee less humorous and a bit more purple." Frillians were red in complexion when asleep and a bright lavender, when fully awake. This would normally make it easy for one Frillian to be able to tell if another Frillian was enjoying a conversation or dozing through it, if it wasn't for the fact that their race is color-blind, and do talk a great deal in their sleep. Lieutenant Tomy pressed a series of buttons which allowed her to bring up a visual of the incoming ship on the main viewscreen. She snapped a fingernail pressing the last button. That did not bother her though, for she had already bitten most of the others off over the past six hours. "Is that the best ya kin do. I kin hardly tell the ship from the stars," said the Commander, squinting his blue eyes. "Viewer is at maximum, Sir," she said as she tried to pull the fingernail out from under the viewscreen resolution button. "Any change in speed or course?" "No, Sir. But they seem to be trying to skirt our position." She succeeded in removing the nail and tossed it nonchalantly over PAGE 11 her shoulder. It landed in the Commander's coffee and sank to the bottom, but O'Hara's attention was elsewhere. "Don't eat that! It's my friend!" shouted the crimson Frillian. "Wake up, Mr. Spitt!" The Commander glared at the weapons officer. He swore to himself never to let the ensign work a triple shift again. Most of their small crew had been in and out of sickbay the two days past, with a curious form of 'intestinal disfunction of unknown origins'. Unknown to the crew, that is, but the outpost's doctor pulled Commander O'Hara aside and warned him that if he ever found any trace of laxatives in the food processors again, he would have to 'file a detailed report to Starfleet, that would be incriminating to someone on this outpost of command rank.' "Mr. Spitt!" said the Commander. The Frillian cocked his head, "Aye Sir, it does seem to be foaming at the mouths," still bearing dark red scales. "Mr. Tomy, send an advisory to Starfleet and our support ship. Tight-beam, you know the drill," spoke the Commander, still narrowly viewing the Frillian. "Place us on red alert while yer at it." "Aye Sir," she said as the Commander moved next to Mr. Spitt at the weapons console and readied it. The inbound ship was just far enough away to keep the targeting computer from getting a positive lock. But since the Commander was not going to blast the ship with the first volley, only fire a warning shot, he allowed the computer to continue the sequence with the inaccuracy variance, and fire. "Torpedo away," O'Hara said calmly, as this was a very routine procedure. At least twice a week they would get a stray ship with communications problems, or once and a while a contraband smuggler, never anything worth worrying about. Everyone knew the Neutral Zone Laws and the consequences of crossover. Klingons do not fire warning shots, and their patrol is two-fold the Federation's. "Sir, scans show the vessel is going sub-light," Lieutenant Tomy said. "Their scanners must have picked up our warning volley. I'll tell them to prepare to be boarded." "Do that, lassie. How far is our support ship?" "I have the Schwarzkopf's ETA at seven minutes," she said confidently. "Bring us back down to yellow then, and get another officer up here to replace Spitt, will ya?" The ruby lights around the station signalling red alert stopped flashing and were replaced by amber... for about a second PAGE 12 and a half... Then the red came on again. "Sir, we are being fired on!" she said with an understandable bit of excitement. "Shields up," the Commander said, maintaining his calm, "and don't worry, me darlin'. The Schwarzkopf is on its way. And remember our scanners are the best in the Federation and we couldn't achieve a weapons lock at this distance. I doubt they're likely ta come close enough ta hit the planet behind us." The torpedo sped towards them rapidly, closing the gap between the inbound craft and the outpost. True to the Commander's words, it was far from its target. Then it detonated. The brilliance rivaled, then overcame, that of their local sun and still grew in intensity. Before Delta Gamma 13's crew could know what was transpiring, they, like much of the planet behind them, were gone. PAGE 13 |