Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 161 Ihnoc Through The Mirror
07-25-2011, 01:38 PM
“Ihnoc through the mirror? Well it happened in 2409. Their 2409. No time jumps or anything of the sort. It all started on a return to Deep Space Nine when the Satsuma was caught in some kind of massive scale transporter beam. The beam transported us initially a couple of light years. Nothing serious but since the phenomenon was so unique, we went back to take better readings.”

“This time, the beam had changed, and initiated a multidimensional transport. It felt unnatural, like there was something we were supposed to see from that transport. And something we did see. We arrived in what is so often called the Mirror Universe. For a while it wasn't immediately obvious but then we encountered a small flotilla of Terran ships, fighters mostly. After everything I tried to explain, they opened fire and obviously notified their superiors.”

“I knew it wasn't long before we encountered something big, like the Klingon-Cardasian Alliance, whom I didn't want to entangle myself with. I pulled up what information we had and distributed it. We made sure to prepare the crew for their alter egos and focussed on trying to find a way back. We theorized that such transporter technology may also be found in parallel, or may even possibly originate here.”

“Our theory turned out to have merit. Upon returning to the parallel co-ordinates, long range scans picked up something massive; a huge Borg transwarp conduit that seemed to have no discernible destination. The complex was guarded by at least 8 cubes and other small vessels that were locked in combat with a group of Terran ships. Upon scanning the engagement, we found the lead vessel; the Satsuma. Far from the Terran Nebula, it was what could best be described as a Defiant. It felt fitting to the stereotype that a diplomatic ship be incarnated as a lethal warship there.”

“I decided, since the Borg were unlikely to lend us their big toy and also likely to be the cause of our arrival, to open a channel with the Satsuma. I expected me, with eye-liner and maybe a cape, scar down the cheek and likely Leila, my Orion helm officer, on a leash. Instead I got Sianna, my cousin and first officer, from the Mirror Universe as a Captain. Funnily enough, Leila was indeed on a leash.”

“I asked where my counterpart was and if we could barter a trade of assistance for use of the Borg hub. Sianna being as intelligent as in our universe, accepted and despite the desperate odds we whittled the numbers down to a few cubes but kept my whereabouts to herself. I imagined she'd probably stabbed me in my sleep or something. However, the battle had become more difficult. The Borg were adapting and seemed to be outwitting me at every turn.”

“Then I found out why. The Satsuma was ensnared in a tractor beam and the shields failed. In a moment I saw why I wasn't on the mirror ship. Appearing in front of me, minus the hair and skin pigmentation, was me. Assimilated. That was my fate here. It became clear that it hadn't been long as the drone was still in it's uniform. I was surprised when it spoke alone and made no hostile move.”

“Then he began speaking as other Borg took the ship, “we are the Borg. We have brought you here for assimilation after we acquire the knowledge you possess for dimensional transport.” I thought he was joking but it turned out the drone, dubbed Five, was uniquely tasked to make multidimensional transport possible for the Borg and he had chosen me as his first target. The idea sounded terrible. The Federation had to deal with two universe's worth of Borg, as well as everything else?”

“We locked ourselves in combat. Our anti-assimilation techniques, unknown to the Borg there, helped us clear the ship and win over the battle. Five escaped to a ship and fled, likely what I would have done. Mirror Sianna requested we leave through the hub and after a few hours we understood enough of the technology to initiate the transport. I don't know what became of them after that.”

“I have this funny feeling, every time I look in the mirror, I'm going to see Five staring back. Probably the most ingenious foe I've met thus far. Likely, the most deadly.”
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
Hello and welcome to our writers challenges!

Today we start the two-week run of the sixth Lit Challenge: Not THAT guy...

Write about your Captain having to interact with another character (or even NPC) they really cannot stand for a number of reasons.
Remember when that one officer was transferred to your ship? He's been a pain in the neck since they stepped off that transporter platform. Or that new Fleet General? Who does she think she is; just because Mommy came from a great house! And do NOT get my started on that new diplomat you were send to chauffeur around the quadrant...


This is the writer's thread.
The Discussion Thread can be found HERE.
We also have an index page of stories HERE.




The rules may change from one to the other, but I'd like to give a quick recap each time. These may grow as we move on, so feel free to also give feedback!
  • Each Challenge will run for two weeks. For 2 weeks we will sticky a subject and have at it.
  • There are no right or wrong entries. If you write 500 words of 3000: Write what inspired you and what your thoughts on the topic are - with one tiny mention:
  • Please heed the rest of the forums' rules when submitting your story!
  • Each poster can have one entry per character. Feel free to edit you post however to fix typos, add stuff or remove stuff as you see fit during the next two weeks.
  • After two weeks time, the thread will be locked and unstickied. If you wish to write on this topic after this time, there will be a place for this in the "Latecomer" thread.
  • We'll have two threads: One to post the stories, one to discuss the stories. *I will allow cross-linking between these two threads!!*
  • I will index your story by name and title (if you have one) for future reference.
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 163 Franklin Drake is an Idiot
07-25-2011, 05:42 PM
Oh, no, not Franklin Drake again.

First that idiot has me go on a wild goose chase near the Neutral Zone and then he has me handle the Devidian crisis.

Oh, wait that's right, I'm not supposed to talk about that. But what do I care, that moron sent us back in time with a disguise that was sure to provoke both sides! Did the guy not spend one day in Federation History? For a man who claims to be serving the Federation's interest he sure is a major screw up.

Daily he is asking me to fix those satellites. I have had my engineering team themselves beam over there and fix them yet they mysteriously go down EVERY DAY! The man could screw up installing a light bulb.

Franklin Drake, you are the bane of my existence. If you ever put my ship into danger again because of your idiocy, I will shove you out the nearest airlock myself.
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 164 Shut the FERENGI Up!
07-25-2011, 05:50 PM
Rygobeth tugged his Vice Admiral coat. He and his bridge crew were standing in front of the Transporter Pad, waiting for the arrival of the dignitary. They needed to make a good first impression. After all, with the war with the Klingon Empire, this contract negotiation would be crucial to produce more vessels to fight with.

"Admiral, we've received the signal. The dignitary's party is ready for transport."

Rygo glanced over his shoulder and nodded. The transporter chief operated the panel, and activated the transporter. The transporter pad whirred, and three figures materialized in motes of blue light. In the center was a Ferengi wearing incredibly regal clothes. He was obviously wealthy. Flanking him to the left and right was a pair of Hypurians wearing dark clothes, probably for security. As soon as the trio materialized, the Ferengi began hobbling off the platform and speaking in a raspy voice. "Ah, Admiral! Good to finally meet you... I expected you to be... human." Rygobeth's face remained neutral. He hadn't made it to Ambassador without being able to take a few racial comments, although it hadn't helped that he was the only known living member of his race.

Rygobeth said, "It's nice to finally meet you, as well, mister..." His voice trailed for a moment. Admiral Quinn hadn’t told Rygo the Ferengi’s name! “Rantik, you nitwit!” The Ferengi answered, a little rudely. Rygobeth replied, more politely than the diplomat had spoken, “Thank you, Rantik. Admiral Quinn neglected to-“. Rantik interrupted. “Don’t make excuses! And speaking of Quinn, he bragged about this ship quite a bit. Begin the tour!” Rygobeth sighed quietly, annoyed. Rygobeth replied, more cheery than he had felt since the Ferengi beamed aboard, “Of course! Right this way.”

The tour took an hour or so. Rantik had nothing but complaints. “Bah, I could find better in Romulan refugee camps!” “You call that ‘impressive’? That’s not fit for me to spit on!” At one point, Rantik decided to try the replicator, ordering a bottle of Synthahol. He took a sip and spat it in Rygobeth’s face. “You call THIS Synthahol? THIS is PATHETIC!” He then poured the bottle onto the ground. Rygobeth, through all of this, contained his temper to the point of exploding. Finally, they arrived at Rantik’s quarters. He walked in and said, “Is THIS the best you’ve got? No WONDER the Empire is winning the war…” He then moved toward his baggage (which had been transported here upon beaming aboard), opened it, and pulled out a number of objects. They were trinkets, probably personal effects, and brought them to the Admiral. He groaned, “You can have them for… 15 slips of Latinum each.” Rygobeth politely said, “No, thank you.” Rantik seemed offended. “It WASN’T an option! BUY IT!” This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. With an explosive yell, he cried out at Rantik, “SHUT THE FERENGI UP!”

Rantik laughed. “I like that little play on words. It’s about TIME you reacted! I’m impressed, you Federations really are patient. It’ll be a PLEASURE having my mines selling exclusively to the Federation! There’s no better tritanium and dilithium in the quadrant!” The annoying, testy Ferengi laughed as Rygo walked away. Rygo walked back out, thinking, What was that? He was testing me? Arrogant Ferengi…
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Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 165 Of All Days
07-25-2011, 07:30 PM
"What in the name of Manna Mordeth were you thinking?! You nearly plunged us into another war!"

"Krovennan, I-"

"Don't you dare "Krovennan" me! You know my title full and well and you will address me by it while you are onboard my ship!"

Very well, Vice Admiral. What about when we a-"

The diplomat's snide question was cut short by a loud crash on Krovennan's desk, were there was once a prisine surface below his fist was now a fist sized dent in the metal, his Andorian First Officer, Tallasa, kept her gaze forward, she knew better than to annoy Krovennan now, this incompetent diplomat loved to insult everyone, even the ones he was trying to make peace with, it was no less of a miracle that he was still a diplomat.

"Unless spending the rest of the return trip in the brig is something you aspire to, I'd choose your next words very carefully."

"Of course Vice Admiral, I believe I shall retire to my quarters until you are in a mood better befitting a Vice Admiral."

The aged Saurian man got up slowly and walked even slower, a look of superiority on his face as he walked out of the room that was Krovennan's quarters, Tallasa watched him out of the corner of her eye until the doors hissed closed behind him, when her attention turned to Krovennan, who had fallen silent.

Tallasa waited as the tension became so thick the knife would get stuck. Krovennan gazed ahead and downwards in silence for another minute, before Tallasa acted on a sudden instinct to move out of the way, as she rolled away from behind Krovennan, a chair soon found itself embedded in the console right where her head had been.

"That arrogant, condescending, incompetent surkama! Of all the Vice Admirals they ask to ferry this idiot to and fro they ask me, why the hell hasn't someone shot him yet? I was certain that last delegation was going to!"

Krovennan had now taken to swearing in Vilscaran, since he had just quite strongly questioned the marital status of the diplomat's parents, Tallasa knew that was the sign that the Federation was not in his mind, so she stood at ease and walked towards Krovennan.

"I know your struggle Krovennan, I have no idea why the Federation put you in charge of a diplomat opposed to the Vilscaran Empire, but we have no choice, your the representative of the Vilscaran Empire, you can't throw him out of the airlock, especially while the negotiations are ongoing."

Tallasa put her hand on Krovennan's shoulder, the rock hard muscles soon softened as Krovennan relaxed.

"Your right Tallasa, it's hard to keep myself from welding him inside his quarters, but I suppose breaking a console or two will suffice until we reach DS9."

"Krovennan, you've known me since we were both Ensigns, when have I not been right about these things?"

"Point taken, I'm going to go walk around the ship, call in an Engineering Team to deal with the mess."

"Yes Vice Admiral."

Becoming formal once more Tallasa tapped her combadge, Krovennan's back disappeared behind the doors just as her combadge responded.

"Engineering here."

"Gyzit, I need you to send a repair team to the Vice Admiral's quarters."

"The Diplomat this time?"

"Yeah."

"They are already on their way, Engineering out."

Meanwhile, Krovennan walked throughout his vessel, the corridors were so much brighter than those on Vilscaran vessels that he was used to, where black metal and most power diverted to essential systems made the corridors very dark indeed. Krovennan still sometimes found it disorientating, but today he simply ignored this fact and pressed on.

Throughout the corridors he walked crewmen went about their business, Drehera was scanning a group of crewmen for an illness that had been spreading among the ship, Kri'gak was busy taking his job as Chief of Security to heart, currently berating two crewmen for getting in a brawl over suspected tampering with each other's replicator.

Krovennan felt it refreshing to be among the crew, like many Vilscarans, he was most at home on a ship, and here, on his own vessel, he felt at ease once more.

This was short lived however, as the trip went on, the diplomat became more and more insufferable, frequently complaining over trivial matters to any crew member who passed, staring over the shoulder of the Engineering crew's work and then seemingly compuled to break something the moment their backs are turned. At one point, the Diplomat cornered a few unwilling crew members into a conversation where he almost suggested that the Vilscaran race were a liability and they should be cast off, naturally the crew members reported this to Krovennan, who soon got Gyzit's teams busy rebuilding parts of his quarters.

Krovennan relaxed the moment he heard the distant mechanical sound that signalled the Blacksabre's docking with DS9, Krovennan slumped slightly in his chair on the Bridge, after afew minutes the call was made that the diplomat had left the ship, Krovennan immediately transferred command of the Bridge to tallasa and headed to Quark's.

As Krovennan clutched the clay and metal bottle used to hold Vilscaran Whisky he mused back and decided things could not get any worse. This thought kept him calm until he took a drink of the Whisky, he almost spat it back out. Krovennan had had enough, Krovennan saw Betran in the back and beckoned him over, the Ferengi came over oblivious to Krovennan's anger, but he got the message when Krovennan grabbed the front of his collar and pulled him down to his level.

If the message was still not clear, the moment Krovennan brought his right hand upp and triggered the mechanism to release two black duranium claws from the wrist attachment Betran had no doubt Krovennan was not happy.

"Listen you little worm, when I agree to pay you to import Vilscaran Whisky, I expect you to import it! If you serve me this replicated dishwater again, I'll refashion your lobes with these claws, am I clear?"

Betran nodded and Krovennan released him, Betran took the offending knock off away and kept his distance from Krovennan, who kept silent until he returned to his Quarters.

"This has not been my week."
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 166 Holo-Man
07-26-2011, 12:37 AM
In advanced, I'd like to apologize for going over the character limit. I haven't even started writing yet, but if you've kept up with my past works...I have a tendency to rant.

USS Normandy, en-route to Deep Space 12
Standard Earth Date: July 26th, 2411
Shipboard time: 0332


A weird whirring sound awoke Arachnidus. He sat up in his bed, looking to his left to see if his his bed-mate was responsible, but there, Lieutenant Kate Lawson lay, sound asleep under the covers. As he looked around the dim quarters, illuminated only faintly by the light of a nearby nebula, he saw what the disturbance was.

"Commander, we need to talk. Now."

Woken up by the voice, Lieutenant Lawson sat up in the bed.

"Richard, what-" she stopped herself upon seeing the intruder, and lifted the blankets to cover herself. Arachnidus got out of bed, wearing nothing but his shorts and walked over to the balding, aged, holographic figure that appeared in his room.

"Doctor Zimmerman, I don't mean to be rude, but what the hell are you doing in my quarters?". The doctor looked over to the bed and saw the captain's companion, quickly pulling herself off the bed, blankets included, towards the bathroom, and smirked.

"Sorry to intrude, commander, but I have to talk to you about installing these holographic emitters on all the de-". Before he could finish, Arachnidus lifted his hand to his holographic mouth and spoke.

"Doctor Zimmerman, let me be clear. I have the utmost respect for you and your work, and I will conduct myself as any Starfleet officer should. But right now, it would be best for you to go back to your quarters and stay there. Or go to the holodeck. Somewhere. Anywhere that isn't here or another one of my officer's quarters. Understood?" he said. This was not the first time Arachnidus was interrupted during the night during the trip from Jupiter Station to Deep Space 12 on the border of the Alpha and Beta quadrants. The trip wasn't long, only a day or so at maximum warp, but due to warp drive upgrades, the Normandy was stuck at Warp 6 and without any slipstream capabilities.

Part of this was because Doctor Louis Zimmerman, the father of modern holography, revolutionary computer designer and notorious pain in the neck, or analogue for species without, had come aboard to upgrade the Normandy's holodecks and central computer, leaving them running on secondary command processors for the entire mission; only the bioneural gel processors in the ship kept the vessel going.

Normally, this would be just a nuisance, but Doctor Zimmerman was a peculiar man. He was responsible for the EMH in the sickbay, which had, on several occasions, helped CMO Narinaya and her medical staff keep the crew alive in some particularly vicious battles both on the Normandy and Arachnidus' previous command, the Luna. However, that did not make up for his rudeness, which was only bolstered by his god complex.

Doctor Zimmerman was diagnosed with a fatal illness resembling that of the Vidiian Phage in 2376, but cured by the EMH Mark I from Voyager. However, several years later, he had succumbed to the illness, which had resurfaced and was unresponsive to treatment due to it's genetic nature. Death, though, was not enough to take Zimmerman from the world, and he'd devised an ingenius method of transferring his consciousness into a holomatrix. For some reason, this method had not worked on anybody else, and only the good doctor, but the results spoke for themselves. Now in a holographic body, he was constrained to the same physical dimensions of every other hologram. Not satisfied with that, he reverse engineered the mobile emitter used by Voyager's EMH for himself, and he was now free to travel just as he did in life- except for when the battery died every few months or so. To prevent that, when on board a ship, he existed much as any EMH; in the confines of a holoemitter equipped room.

Unfortunately for Commander Arachnidus 'Vadam and the crew of the USS Normandy, that included all of Engineering, the Bridge, Sick Bay, the holodecks, the Shuttle Bay and most crew quarters; all the places that a medical emergency could conceivably happen. Which led to tonight's event.

"Yes, captain. Goodbye!". The holographic image of the doctor faded away. The door of the bathroom slid open and Lieutenant Lawson appeared, dressed in a Starfleet t-shirt belonging to Arachnidus that read Class of 2399, and shorts.

"Richard, I don't care if I have to protest formally as second officer, but that man needs to seriously learn some manners. Mark's been saying that the entire crew is complaining, he's worse than the EMH". Her use of Arachnidus' name translated into English, as usual, did little to comfort the Commander. He always felt on edge when a VIP was on board; more so when that VIP was a hologram who happened to pop into his room while he slept next to one of his fellow officers. No matter how happy he was with her, and no matter that there were no regulations against it, he was still a little uncomfortable with the arrangement while on board the ship.

"Well, that makes sense. He did create them, after all. He'll be gone in a few days" Arachnidus said, while dressing in his standard Red-Black Command uniform. While he put on his pants, Kate walked to the replicator.

"Two Raktajinos, one sweet". She lifted the two mugs and handed the sweet one to Arachnidus. After taking a sip of the artificially created and warmed Klingon "coffee" (Ensign Bagh, the resident Klingon on Normandy, once told him that Klingons had no need for coffee- they simply enjoyed the taste), he looked at Kate and spoke.

"You know, your duty shift's in two hours. You don't need to come now, go back to sleep."

"Are you telling me that as my boyfriend, or as the captain?" she asked flirtatiously.

"A little bit of both, I suppose" he said, as he set down the drink and embraced her. After a slightly more than PG-13 kiss, he let go of her hand and walked towards the door, picking up the mug of Raktajino on the way out. "I'll be on the bridge. Good...morning, I guess, lover". She blew him a kiss and he walked off towards the turbolift. His best friend and XO, Mark Parker, had the bridge. He had been suffering from a bout of insomnia and needed the command experience, especially considering the entire crew was going to be reviewed in a few weeks as a precursor to the wholesale promotion of the crew. It seemed Starfleet had finally found it odd that they put a Commander in charge of a ship of the line. Getting back on track, Arachnidus tapped his combadge with his free hand and spoke low, not wanting to disturb any crew members that might be asleep, even knowing the walls were soundproofed.

"Commander 'Vadam to the bridge. I'm on my way up". The heads up was immediately responded to by Lieutenant Commander Parker.

"Aye, sir."

After a brief turbolift ride, Arachnidus stepped out from the port alcove and walked onto the bridge. The setup was like a mix between the Sovereign and Galaxy classes, with a large arch behind the Captain, XO and adviser chairs, and two independent consoles flanking them for Ops and Engineering. To the front of the ship, by the view screen, were two conns; one for Navigation and the other for Flight Control. To aft of the Command Seats, were three sciences stations, each serving a variety of purposes. Starfleet finally had the sense to put seats at each station; every one of them equipped with seatbelts, considering the odd amount of ramming and crash landings of the past fifty years.

As he walked to the seats and past the tactical arch, Lieutenant Commander Parker stood up.

"Captain on the bridge." As he spoke, the other officers looked up at attention.

"As you were." Arachnidus walked to his chair as Lt. Cdr. Parker arose and moved to the right to his own.

"Sir, there's a full report on your console."

"Thank you, commander. Anything interesting?" Arachnidus desperately wanted a distraction from the tedium of dealing with Doctor Zimmerman.

"Not much. Just the usual; reports from paranoid Deep Space captains about possible Undine incursions, more Borg sightings, a battle with the Klingons, gaseous anomalies...and about twenty complaints and six requests for a meeting from Doctor Zimmerman" the XO spoke. "Looks like you've got a busy day, Richard."

"Don't remind me. Might as well get started" Arachnidus responded. He pressed the comms button on his console and spoke. "Bridge to Doctor Zimmerman. This is the captain, I'll be in my ready room if you'd like to talk."

Immediately, a response came through. Not verbally, but right in front of his eyes. For the second time in twenty minutes, Doctor Louis Zimmerman appeared before his eyes in a shimmer of photons and forcefields.

"Finally. Well?" he said. Arachnidus looked at Mark and stood.

"Commander Parker, you have the bridge" he said as he walked off to his ready room door located at the starboard-aft side of the bridge, past the science stations. The pair walked in. "Please, sit, doctor".

As the two sat down, Arachnidus could sense this meeting was going to be interesting, to say the least.

"You wanted to talk, doctor?"

"Yes, captain. The upgrades are coming along adequately, but your chief engineer and his staff are being ridiculously stubborn! And on top of that, your ship's holoemitters are out of alignment! Do you know what it feels like to be materialized inside a bulkhead? It's oddly comforting, but that's not the point!" Zimmerman protested angrily.

"I'm sorry, doctor. But Lieutenant Bramner briefed me on the situation. You want to download your holomatrix into our main computer and rewrite the code manually, yes?" the captain spoke diplomatically.

"Yes, it would greatly speed up the process."

"But aren't there a variety of problems with that?". Arachnidus would allow it, but after being told of the possible catastrophic consequences, he agreed with his Chief's assessment and denial.

"Oh, they're not that bad" the doctor said, flailing his arms in the air to get the point across, as if he were waving the concerns away. Arachnidus' eyes widened.

"...Doctor Zimmerman, I've been told that the code subsection you're working on is the one that manages the computer's interface with the exotic matter containment for the slipstream drive. And that if something goes wrong and that containment fails, Main Engineering could become the epicenter of a black hole. That's what I'd qualify as that bad" Arachnidus said. Though he was tired from being up at such an early hour, this was actually fairly amusing. He enjoyed these arguments with one of his inspirations. "Can't you just interface with a console and do it through one of them?".
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 167 Holo-Man, Part 2
07-26-2011, 12:38 AM
"Captain Spider-man, I'm a doctor, not a keyboard. It would go much faster if I could just go into the computer and rewrite it at the source". Arachnidus almost burst out in laughter. He was human, but his parents named him for the Klingon translation of Richard; apparently, Brave Ruler in tlhIngan Hol sounded oddly similar to the English word Arachnid. As such, this left Arachnidus on the receiving end of some creative Spiderman insults as a child. Ironically, Spiderman was his favorite super hero, so he didn't take it as much of an insult.

"I'll review it with the chief. And I planned on having the holoemitters refit anyway. You can oversee that, if you'd like". Arachnidus had a feeling this would satiate Zimmerman for the time being, until he could figure out a compromise for the computer upgrades. As the holographic avatar for one of the universe's most brilliant minds pondered the decision, the captain mentally remarked how amazing it was that the man was able to transfer his mind, his consciousness, some would even say his soul, into a modular computer program that was responsible for a hologram's behavior, looks and basic being. The thought was broken by the man's response.

"Alright. But I expect to be informed of your decision immediately."

"Deal. Is that all, Doctor?" Arachnidus was eager to get back to the bridge.

"Yes" Zimmerman said, as he walked out of the cabin. Arachnidus wondered about this act. Why not just transfer his avatar back to his quarters? Guess some habits die hard. A thought then dawned on the captain. One of his idols, as annoying as he was, was on board his ship. This may be the only opportunity he could ever have to discuss...anything, with him.

"Doctor, hold on a second" he said before the man could leave the room. "I wanted to know, would you like to join me on the holodeck later, say, around 0900? I have some ideas I'd like to discuss with you". Zimmerman was visibly surprised by the offer, and smile crested on his face.

"You know, I read your file. Average student, but all of your professors said you had the potential to be great, but that you were lazy. I could teach you some stuff before I go. See if they were right. Are you sure your girlfriend, that Lieutenant, won't mind?" he asked, a sarcastic yet elated tone in his voice.

"I think she'll forgive me this once."

"So be it. See you at 0900, Spidey". With that, his avatar blurred out of existence, likely going to main engineering to supervise the refit of the ship's holoemitters. Walking back to his chair, he looked at his XO, who promptly commented.

"He appears. Seems like you survived the meeting". Sitting back in his chair, the captain stared at the view screen. Even though it looked 2D, it was essentially a hologram, allowing it to display trillions of colors and to show depth, and to reconfigure itself as necessary; one of Doctor Zimmerman's inventions. Without this screen, that they took for granted every day, who knows how history could have wound up? As the Temporal Prime Directive stated, any little change could alter the timeline irreparably. How much of space would he have missed if Zimmerman hadn't figured out the holographic display? After the thought settled in, he turned to his XO.

"Mark, as much of a pain in our collective asses as he is, the man's a genius. And to be honest, I don't think he's really that bad on the inside. Just gotta get him out of there. Sorta like me in 6th grade, if you'll recall."

"That I do. Still, he is giving us a bit of trouble."

"That may be so, but...we'll probably come out of this all the better. At the worst, with some new holoemitters and a computer upgrade. Could be a lot worse, man. Tell Kyvaune I want the detail assigned to the holoemitter refit to cooperate entirely with Doctor Zimmerman". Lieutenant Commander Parker was visibly a little taken off guard by the order, but still complied.

"Aye, sir."

As he sat in his chair, pondering the day ahead, Arachnidus wondered what he could learn- and how thankful the crew would be once Zimmerman was gone. He felt sympathy for the man, because he knew why his crew would be annoyed. Zimmerman was temperamental, arrogant and so stubborn that not even death could get rid of him. But he was still a man, and the benefit of the doubt, in light of all the good he'd done, was something the captain could spare.
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Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 168
07-26-2011, 08:08 AM
<<Priotity One, Captains Eyes Only>>

Very well General Honda rely the signal to my Ready Room Terminal then take the escort vessels back to port
and await further instructions.

Ancient untranslated tongue <Lord this isent another Omege is it?>
<No Loyal Vassel, We are in the Federation services now not the IJN>

Computer Seal Ships Comm until further command; Relay message and authenticate
<Working.. Signal is from SB 39. ADM ?/]
Command Code Tinaka SB Shinkoku..

<Access Granted>
Audio only [using command codes from SB 39]
Hello stranger divert your ship to meet a shuttle in the KAzon Expanse,, [click]

Computer attempt to bounce signal of the Tal Sh'r relay..
<working>

Computer cross index with Vulcan Science Academy.. Level Red MAtter Authorization VA Planetary Survival level.

<Access Granted...Triangulating locator becon...ID verified...name [secret] >

Pushing swinging retro display arm back..

HELM this is the Admiral.. Gravitate the Rotary Drive.. WARP 11.
Ships Captain to my Ready room on the Admirals Wing.

<swoosh> Salute Admiral you wish something?

I do order a diplomatic reception in Ten Forward with issue of type 1 phasers.. We i believe have a "special" guest to meet. One you may well remember.. set your Phasers to stun.. and Ready Security for inspection in 15 minutes. Dismissed.

Of Course Admiral.

Watching the ships operations progress from the bridge cam.. The Admiral went to the Ready Room Container and locked access hatch and changed.

Admiral ,3 hours out.. Orders?

Scan for Taejon imminence

Signal Contact Shuttle on long range system. Speed warp 5 bearting 210 degrees high.

Tactical Train weapons on them and signal.. repair tractor beam to shuttle bay and erect a force field stasis field.

?Admiral..

DO IT!

Walking onto the Bridge

Admiral on the Bridge Orders?

Team with me to meet our guest. take you weapons out left palm show me the settings.. Good
This is a direct order. Disregard anything our guest says and treat him like hes an Undine.. Jam his shuttles COM now.. and follow me.

Aye AYE!

Smiling the Welcoming Committee procedures to the secure quarantine Shuttle bay docking clamps 2.

Cheif Ready to flood the area with Anzine gas the second anything strange happens
With pleasure Admiral.

The Shuttle hatch <swooshes open>

A Crew Buzz cut male in a Black jacket emergess with an angry look and phaser..

Put that thing down and step over here "DEar Friend"



Greetings Captain Drake oh what an unwarranted surprise or please it is to see you again..
What degree of peril do you wish to subjugate my worthy vessel to this time.

You by chance can prove your are not an Undine? Not <wink Adm Zelles Brother?>
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 169 Dr. Chep Magosh
07-26-2011, 11:40 PM
This morning at Starbase 39, we picked up a new member of the medical staff. This afternoon, he nearly killed a crewman, and this evening, he single-handedly managed to save the entire crew from disaster. Even, as I record this log file, I still don’t know what to think of him. But, I have the distinct feeling that the next few weeks are going to be extremely interesting to say the least.

Chep Magosh is a young doctor. His Starfleet record is a kilometer long and is filled with a mixed bag of disciplinary actions and recommendations. He had been promoted and demoted so many times that I was hesitant, at first, to bring him onboard. My overall impression of his service record was that he speaks his mind too frequently which often lands him into trouble. But, his skill and ability in his chosen profession is unparalleled. What I find the most interesting, though, is how exactly he managed to reach the rank of Commander, despite having spent more time as a Lieutenant than me and my bridge crew has spent in Starfleet combined.

When he came aboard the USS Tobarrus, I personally went down to the transporter room with Drem, my chief medical officer, to meet this notorious little man. Despite the fact that he was Tellarite, I expected more as the small unimposing man beamed aboard. Knowing his reputation, I braced myself for a traditional Tellarite greeting. But, it never came. Chep Magosh was polite and courteous. He stepped off the transporter pad, approached us, and offered me his hand. He was exactly what you’d expect from a Command-level officer in Starfleet.

I just looked at him, stunned. This wasn’t the same officer I had read about. There must have been a mistake. Drem jabbed an elbow into my side. It broke me of my trance. I took his hand and introduced myself. I accompanied Drem and Dr. Magosh to sickbay. I silently observed the new addition to my crew with skepticism. They spoke of various surgical techniques, new drug treatments, and other things that were well beyond my pay grade as a Tactical officer and Captain.

We entered sick bay. I stood at the door as they went inside. Drem gave Dr. Magosh the 10 cent tour of our tiny sickbay. Coming from a cruiser and its spacious interiors, surely the size of our sickbay would be enough to get a reaction from him. However, it did not. In fact, he complimented Drem for using the available space so expertly.

What in the name of To’?

I excused myself and left sickbay to consider what to do next.

...

In my ready room, I was going over Chep Magosh’s file once again. His last demotion was 8 years ago for a diplomatic incident he caused during first contact with the Malkonians. The report of the incident described him as picking and eating a Bok’ta fruit from the sacred courtyard outside the Malkonian Capital. Command was ready to kick him from the service, but Captain Lynya Taran had stepped in and saved his career. As a consequence for his actions, Chep had been ordered to escort Ambassador Mar’Rela of Vulcan to a conference on Babel. The next several reports in his file detailed his activities en route, during and immediately after the conference, and included an account from Ambassador Mar’Rela.

My communicator chimed, interrupting my research. Rubbing my eyes with one hand, I tapped the communicator with the other. It was Drem. She notified me that there had been an incident in sickbay. I rose from my chair and started the short trip to the door as she explained the situation. My pace quickened as I reached the turbolift and directed it to sickbay.

Dr. Magosh had made a dire mistake that nearly resulted in the death of a crewman. The crewman had come into sickbay with plasma burns from a faulty relay he had been replacing. Dr. Magosh had volunteered to treat the patient. According to Drem, the standard treatment protocol for plasma burns was Hexatriol, which Chep had followed precisely. The problem arose from his lack of familiarity with our crew, because this particular patient was allergic to hexatriol.

The crewman immediately went into anaphylactic shock and had stopped breathing. Before Drem could leave her office to find out what had happened, Chep was on top of the situation. He began asking all of the correct questions to determine what exactly went wrong. When he realized that he had administered the incorrect medication to this particular patient, he grabbed a hypospray, filled it with stenophyl, and handed it to Drem.

I stepped out of the turbolift and hurried down the hall to sickbay. I entered and searched the biobeds for any signs of life. Drem and Dr. Magosh were on either side of a biobed with a seemingly healthy engineer sitting up in bed. Drem was running a dermal regenerator over the remnants of the plasma burn. I approached the crewman, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and asked how he was doing. The crewman smiled and replied that he was feeling much better now.

I turned to Drem and asked to have a word with her. She nodded, handed Dr. Magosh the dermal regenerator and led me into her office. I closed the door behind me and asked for a detailed report. Fully aware of the transparent walls in the office, I made sure that my actions didn’t reveal how upset I was to hear about this little incident so soon after his arrival. I argued that he was a hazard to the crew and demanded that he be put off the ship immediately.

It was a look I have seen many times, and I instantly recoiled away from her. I knew there was no arguing with her. She said it was an honest mistake, and that if anyone was responsible, she was. I didn’t like it one bit, but I knew better than to argue with her when it came to her domain onboard the USS Tobarrus.

We left her office. Drem returned to the injured crewman as I made my way to the door. At the threshold, I stopped, turned around, and ordered Dr. Magosh to take the rest of the day off. Drem was about to object, when I shot her a gaze of my own. She took the dermal regenerator from Dr. Magosh, and told him to go ahead, but to report back first thing in the morning for his duty shift. I turned and walked out of sickbay without another word.



A few hours later, I was on the bridge. The USS Tobarrus was en route to a system deep within the Khazan Cluster. My science officer, Stobomoe, detected unusual radiation being emitted by a pulsar two light years off our present course. I ordered the ship to investigate the radiation readings. Stobomoe recommended that we stay at least half a light year away from the pulsar to avoid feeling any of its detrimental effects.

Stobomoe began his analysis of the radiation readings. I rubbed my temples as the first flashes of a migrane blurred my vision. Shaking my head, I pushed it to the back of my mind. I approached my science officer.

Fausto, my engineer, suddenly grasped his head in his hands and cried out in agony. Like a demolished building collapsing under the force of gravity, he slid out of his chair and onto the floor. I rushed over, crouched down beside him, and saw his face warp into a horrible mask of pain. I called down to Drem in sickbay and notified her that Fausto had collapsed. She was being overwhelmed with crewmen complaining of headaches, nausea, and in a few cases of unconsciousness, and she too was starting to feel its effects. Audria came over and helped me get Fausto to his feet. His legs were made of rubber. He leaned on her as they slowly made their way to sickbay.

Other members of my bridge crew began collapsing, including Stobomoe. It was getting difficult to concentrate. I took the helm and set a course out of the system at full impulse. It was getting more difficult to focus. My vision was starting to go dark. I forced myself out of the chair and made my way to the turbolift. I needed to get to sickbay.

The turbolift doors opened on deck 3. I stepped out and immediately saw a dozen crewmen lying on the floor unconscious, including Fausto and Audria. They had not made it to their destination. I stumbled. I clawed at the wall to get back on my feet and used it to support me as I made my way down the hallway as it stretched for hundreds of meters. When I finally made it to the sickbay, the door opened and I stepped inside.

Suddenly, I was falling through space as I lost consciousness.



I was aware of sounds going on all around me. I was regaining consciousness. I opened my eyes and cried out when I saw Chep Magosh’s ugly mug only inches from my face. He kept repeating my name. Suddenly, the ship, the pulsar, and the radiation rushed back into my consciousness. I sat up.

Chep placed a hand on my shoulder and said that everything is fine now. I should take it easy for a bit. He continued to explain that he had been in the mess hall when a few people started getting sick. He helped them to sick bay, only to discover that Drem had also been afflicted with whatever was going on. Soon, more and more people started showing up with the same symptoms.

He wasn’t totally immune to the pulsar’s effects. With so many coming down with the condition, he knew the ship was in trouble. He made his way to the bridge to discover the ship’s fate. Fallen crewmen were everywhere. He moved around them carefully to make sure that he did not further injure anyone. Once on the bridge, he checked the sensors and determined that the ship was heading in the wrong direction. It was moving towards the pulsar. At the helm, he plotted a course out of the system at high warp. He kept the ship on course. 1 light year … 2 … 3, 4, 5; they were now far enough away that the pulsar’s unusual radiation was no longer affecting them. He brought the ship to a stop and began rousing the crew.

If it weren’t for the heroics of Dr. Chep Magosh, I don’t know where we would be right now. Therefore, I am adding the record of this event to Dr. Chep Magosh’s record with the hopes that Starfleet will get that man off of my ship and give him one of his own.
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 170 Getting Worse
07-27-2011, 11:23 AM
...The interior of the bioship was cramped and dark. It smelt like the inside of a very old and very worn training shoe and Tanar had to force himself not to gag on the foul odour that was constantly trying to attack his lungs.

...The pilot was only 5 metres in front of him at the main control, wired into his command chair via organic tubules. He could see the tripedal creature through a crack in the console he had climbed under. It was sitting awkwardly in a massive chair, or at the least a biomass moulded into the shape of a chair. The entire ship was alive, although not sentient; at least Tanar hoped so.

...The Cardassian who had spent most of his life in Starfleet had been captured by the Undine on a visit to his homeland. He had spent countless days in a holding cell before he had managed to escape the biodome by finding this ship, docked in what he assumed was a hanger bay, although ‘garden’ would have been a more accurate description. He had tried to figure out how to operate the very alien controls when the huge Undine scuttled in. He had only just managed to dive under a crack in the ships wall, and land in something soft and sticky as the creature entered the chamber. He did not want to think what it was that he now sat in.

...At least half an hour had passed as the pilot had gone through what he assumed was a series of pre-ignition checks. Strange noises could be heard coming from inside the ship; a language from a com-link or ship functions? he could not tell. Finally the ship had rumbled into activity and had left the dome into fluidic space.

...Tanar knew he had act soon, although he had never flown anything as alien as a bio ship. Even if he could incapacitate the pilot he would have no way of creating a rift back into normal space, or even what part of his galaxy he would end up in. The Undine appeared to be able to cross vast areas of the galaxy from the Alpha quadrant, all the way to the Delta quadrant via fluidic space. One wrong move and he would find himself stranded a hundred years from home.

...Suddenly the ship shuddered. Tanar was unprepared for the jolt and was flung back into a cluster of pipes and tubes. The vessel shook again. It felt like they had hit some turbulence. A bioship rocked a third time, causing Tanar to hit his head. He cried out in pain for a split second. He instantly knew his mistake as the aliens head snapped back to look at his position. He had to move.

...Rolling from underneath the console, he sprang to his feet and threw himself at the still seated Undine. The flight threw the air seemed to take forever, as if time had slowed down. It gave him the opportunity to see a massive claw sweeping him away from his target. He crashed into a side console. A shower of sparks, and goo greeted him as he slunk down to the floor. The goo burned his skin and he tried to wipe it away as it seared at his flesh. He saw the huge alien standing above him, ready to strike. It all went blank.

continued next post.
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