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Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
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Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!pipex!uknet!festival!castle.ed.ac.uk!ewans
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From: ewans@castle.ed.ac.uk (Ewan Spence)
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Subject: Star Trek - The New Frontier - Xmas Special
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Message-ID: <CI4Mux.HrJ@festival.ed.ac.uk>
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Sender: news@festival.ed.ac.uk (remote news read deamon)
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Organization: Edinburgh University
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Date: Thu, 16 Dec 1993 12:04:09 GMT
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Keywords: Repost 1-4, New Chapter 5
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Lines: 653
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A Christams wish from the author...
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========================================================================
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Firstly, I'm really glad that I managed to get to this point. 7 weeks
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ago, when the idea for The New Frontier catalysed in my mind, I had no
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idea where it would lead. Now, I have made a lot of people very happy
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with this story.
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Regarding A Bridge To Far (Which of course, is the name of this pilot
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episode), here we go with the traditional seasonal cliffhanger. The net
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has to have at least one. Chapter 5 appears at the end of this posting.
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But due to a multitude of people requesting back chapters, I'm posting
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chapters 1 through 4, and the new chapter (5), so get a printout, take
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it home over the holidays, and try to work out how the hell Strachan and
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co. get out of this one.
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The throwaway line seems to be becoming a tradition. In case you don't
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know what it is, out of all the ideas that peolpe send to me, three
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things usually happen. Most of them get filed for future reference, some
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will have whole plot lines built round them, but a few get their idea
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adapted and turned into the prize of The Throwaway Line. This is basically
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a line in the new Chapter that adds a bit of ambience, or explains a little
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point. I never actually reveal which line it is, but just who wins the
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prize. Today, it belongs to... Steve Carabello. I changed your wish
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slightly, Steve, but the idea is still there. If you want to win the
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Throwaway line next time, mail me some ideas.
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As always, a plea for people to E-mail me. It's all this E-mail that
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keeps me going in the dark nights as I work towards the conclusion in my
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mind. Most people wanted to give TNF a good start before really talking
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about it (Lori!), so I think that this is a good point to say, E-MAIL
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ANY AND ALL OPINIONS TO ME. I WANT TO HEAR FROM _YOU!_
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I would especially like people to suggest ways in which the Enigma can
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escape. If anyone hits on the same idea that I'm going to use I'll
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utilise conventional mail and send them a prize! Anybody who wants to
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write another episode of TNF should mail me with their ideas, so I can
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process them and maybe send out writers guides to them (Yes, I do have
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one written for TNF).
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Finally, (Cliche warning) all you have a Merry Christmas, and don't
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drink too much...
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Ewan (The Author)
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P.S. Joe Young, in regards to the archive, please replace parts 1-4 with
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this version. It superseeds them. Thanks.
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Here we go with the repost...
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==========================================================================
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Author's Note.
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=========================================================================
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After starting to get slightly sick of everyone lambasting Star Trek -
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Voyager on the net before it is even broadcast (or even just cast!); I have
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decided to write what I would like to see.
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I have taken Paramount's in-house pre-production name just to confuse
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you, and created an all-new crew, with the exception of the Conn Officer.
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Yes, this is the same Robin Leflar that appeared in The Next Generation.
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The initial premise, the lost in the far-flung corners of the Galaxy plot,
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seems to be the best bet for Voyager, so I used that as well.
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This is my first bash at writing for pleasure so constructive criticism is
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welcomed (go easy, mind you); but no flames please (i.e. I hate the
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complete idea of this, etc.).
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Ewan Spence, November 1993.
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E-Mail on exs@dcs.ed.ac.uk or ewans@castle.ed.ac.uk
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Based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry.
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All new material here is copyright Ewan Spence. Ewan Spence asserts the
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moral right to be identified as the author of this work. You are free to
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distribute this, as long as it is kept together, remains unedited, and you
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charge no more than nominal copying costs.
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==========================================================================
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Chapter 1.
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==========================================================================
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Captain's Personal Log; Stardate 48012.7. The impossible is finally
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happening. I am on my way, in the traditional shuttle craft, to take
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command of the USS Enigma. I've waited a long time for this, lets hope
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that this cruise is nothing like the first I had on the Geronimo. I don't
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think that anything else could have went wrong during those first weeks.
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I also am looking forward to seeing Nicole T'zer again. Starfleet
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decided that she was to be my Number One. I didn't get a choice this
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time, either. Thanks to this wonderful piece of bureaucracy, we will have
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to make sure that we are... careful.
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Captain Tyler Strachan looked out across the sky, straining to catch a
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glimpse of what he knew would take up the next 12 months of his life.
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The shuttle-craft carried on in it's orbit around the Earth, and still Strachan
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kept looking. This tradition of having the Captain first arrive at his
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command by a shuttle had been around since the refit of the original
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Enterprise. (Nobody remembered that the only reason for that occurrence
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was due to the transporters being out of operation). It may have been
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tradition, but it still set every Captain's nerves on the edge.
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There she was. Strachan took in the sight of his first command in over 5
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years with a belated sigh of relief. He had not thought it possible that he
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would actually command another Starship after the massacre that had
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been The Borg. Old wounds healed slowly, and the pain of the battle had
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never quite left him.
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Damn, he thought, I'm getting to old for this Starfleet lark. Maybe I
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should have quit after Wolf 359...
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* * * * * * * *
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"...and escort us to sector 001, where we begin the assimilation of your
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race." Strachan took in the situation immediately. His helm officer, Nicole
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T'zer responded with characteristic speed, "What the hell have they done
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to him, Captain?"
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"I haven't got a clue T'zer. But there is no way that the Borg are getting
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past 359."
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"Aye, Sir. Shields are up, phasers charged, all torpedo bays loaded. All
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decks on Red Alert. Were ready"
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The klaxons rebounded around the ship. The USS Geronimo was in full
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battle readiness in under 10 seconds, but no drill could compare with what
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they were up against. Heeling over to join the first Vic formation against
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the bloated cube, the Geronimo engaged the Borg.
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The ship rocked violently to port.
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The response from T'zer was instantaneous, "The Borg have locked on
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with their tractor beam!"
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"Shields being drained," this from the tactical station, "90 per cent... 80
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per cent..."
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"Bridge to Engineering, Bill, auxiliary power to the shields." Strachan
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was watching his ship being stripped of all it's defences, one by one.
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"Shields have failed!"
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"Fire all torpedoes."
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The command was never executed. The Borg sliced away the
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Secondary Hull of the Geronimo.
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"Hull breach! We just lost... God Almighty, the complete sec-"
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The Borg ship fired again. Geronimo lost half of the remaining Primary
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Hull. On the bridge, Strachan ordered the last option left open to him.
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"All hands, abandon ship; repeat, all hands, abandon ship. Clear the
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bridge. Get to those lifeboats, people."
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The bridge crew made a hurried exit for the turbo-lift. Strachan stopped
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his two senior officers, Robbins and T'zer.
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"Lets leave a surprise for the Borg."
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The revenge present in both their eyes was all he needed as he turned to
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the Sciences Station.
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"Computer, recognise Captain Tyler Strachan."
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"Recognised"
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"Set self destruct."
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"Does the First Officer Concur?"
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Robbins never got the chance. The Borg delivered it's third and final blow
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to the Geronimo. The saucer section exploded.
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Time passed. The Borg made for Sol, the irritation now removed.
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Drifting, the remains of the Geronimo were a pitiful sight. The top three
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decks had been the only section to remain habitable. The hulk contained
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two survivors, Captain Tyler Strachan, and Lieutenant Nicole T'zer.
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"How are you feeling, Nicole?"
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The young Lieutenant looked up. Emergency lighting was draping a
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thin, red, glow around the remains of the bridge. She could make out her
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Captain looking over her.
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"Pretty good, Captain. Yourself?"
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"Shaky at best. I can't feel my legs."
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"And Mr Robbins?"
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Tyler's head perceptibly dropped, "It's just you and me."
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"How bad is the ship?"
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"What ship? The Borg have taken out most of it. All we have is the
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backup bridge Life Support, and limited Battery Power. Lets hope
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Starfleet send out someone to get us out of here, quick."
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"Lets hope Starfleet survive."
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The question hung in the air. Tyler and Nicole were going to be together
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for a long time...
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* * * * * * * *
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The memories came flooding back to Tyler. It had take Starfleet over 2
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weeks to realise that there were people still alive aboard the remains of the
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Geronimo. The damage to his legs had take over a year in a Starfleet
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Medical Hospital; after that, the 'fleet had already allocated the surviving
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senior officers to ships. Tyler had spent the next three years of his life as
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an Academy instructor.
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He had always intended to return to the big chair. The months of
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watching the young, eager cadets leave his course to join new Starships
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had been excruciating. Only two cadets had ever stood out of the crowd at
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him. One was the infamous Wesley Crusher, provider of many a good
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story told round the Instructor's Table; and the other had been Peter
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Dalrymple. Pete had been in the first class he graduated, and Strachan had
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followed his career with half an eye. He was pleasantly surprised when
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Dalrymple had been posted to the Enigma as his Second Officer.
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It had taken him 3 years to convince Starfleet to give him back his
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command. Only he could be happy with a 30 year old, Miranda Class
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Light Cruiser, that should have been mothballed years ago. A Ship is a
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ship, his father had always maintained. But not this one, he thought. I'm
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going to make it big on this one. I have to...
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============================================================================
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Chapter 2.
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============================================================================
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The shuttle bay repressurised. Captain Strachan walked out. A Well-
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built officer brought a Guard of Honour to attention. Strachan turned to
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him, "Permission to come aboard, Lieutenant."
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"Permission granted, Captain."
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Strachan took in the officer standing before him, attempting to match
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the face to the file he had on his senior officers.
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"Bowland, isn't it?"
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"Yes Sir."
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"Chief of Security?"
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"Yes Sir."
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"Okay. Dismiss your men."
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"Yes Sir." Bowland turned back to his troops to give the necessary
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orders.
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Strachan took in the Lieutenant while he was doing this. Tony Bowland
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was quite tall, 6' 3, and had the aura of a Security Officer around him.
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Strachan couldn't quite make out the accent. Tied to the well-tanned body,
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Bowland could have came from anywhere along the Mediterranean. The
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guard of honour marched out, leaving Bowland alone with his new
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Captain.
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Strachan broke the ice, "Any chance of a tour of the ship before anyone
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knows I'm here, Mr Bowland?"
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"Certainly Sir. I'll call down one of my staff to-"
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"I'd rather that you take me round, Lieutenant. I presume that you
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know this ship like the back of your hand, being Security Chief, correct?"
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"Yes, Sir. Anywhere you would like to start?"
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"Engineering."
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Escorting the new Captain down to Deck 6, Tony Bowland was
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wondering how to break the news that the burly Chief of Security was
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also running the ship's botanical gardens. Give it time, he thought to
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himself. "First time on a Miranda Class for you, Sir?"
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"Yes, it's well known class, but I always used to get landed with the
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bigger ships. Yourself?"
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Bowland took a heartbeat to respond, "First time on one that came from
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this early a run," he paused. Should he carry on with the next question?
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"Why did you choose this ship, Sir? After all, with the amount of time in
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the service; you could have chosen any command, what with the
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problems along the Neutral Zone."
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"Mr Bowland, I had no choice in the ship I was given. After the
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Academy, I would have been happy in a scout ship."
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"You probably would have been safer in one of those. The Enigma
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should have been decommissioned years ago. She's past her life-span, her
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sell-by date, everything."
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"You don't agree with Starfleet on the need to patrol the Neutral Zone?"
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"I agree we should do it, Sir. But if you are going to defend, defend
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with a deterrent, not a dustbin."
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"Your opinion is noted, but I hope that this will not affect your
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performance of your duty. Understood, Lieutenant?"
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"Understood Sir. Engineering is just round this corner." Bowland
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shivered. the atmosphere had turned decidedly chilly.
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Strachan and Bowland turned the corner to witness what appeared to
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be complete chaos in Engineering. Dominated by the Matter/Anti-Matter
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Reaction Assembly, the Section was overflowing with commands being
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bawled out and Officers frantically working at stations. Suddenly, the
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harsh light of a containment field snapped on round the M/ARA.
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"Oh Shit! Abort the start-up routine." Commander Hazel Wittock,
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Chief Engineer of the Enigma was, apparently, not in a good mood.
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"Abort the anti-matter injection! Select full neutral cut-out! Reeve, give
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me an anti-matter cross-section reading!"
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"8.29cm, no residual anti-matter registering."
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"Right, were okay," she was slightly calmer now, "Computer, drop the
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containment field. Authorisation Wittock-three-eight-foxtrot."
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"Confirmed. Containment field is now in stand-by."
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The klaxons stopped. Strachan took his chance, "Nice work,
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Commander."
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Wittock turned, eyes suddenly alight with fury, but discipline taking
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over on seeing who it was. "Than you, Sir. But none of this would be
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necessary if we could have access to Space-Dock facilities."
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"You know that the terrorist bomb ripped out all the ship support
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pylons. We have to do it the hard way, and-"
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"We should be doing it in a space worthy ship. I'm sure Mr Bowland
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here made you aware of the... condition of this ship; if you didn't already
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know."
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"I know the state of the ship, Commander Wittock. I take it you are
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aware of the number of Starships that were critically damaged in the same
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explosion," Strachan's tone had turned cold.
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"Yes, Sir."
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"Were only going to be patrolling the Neutral Zone till the Fergusson
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relieves us in a month's time."
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"A month can be a long time in space." A smile attempted to escape
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onto Wittock's face.
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"Just hold her together till then, Hazel." The smile escaped. "Now, lets
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have a look at what your doing wrong."
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Wittock could see that the Captain was just as worried about the
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Enigma's state of repair as she was. He can just hide it better, she
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thought, as she escorted him into the Chief Engineer's Office.
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============================================================================
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Chapter 3.
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============================================================================
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Hazel Wittock has been suitably impressed by the way that Strachan
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had handled himself in Engineering. She had only know him, personally,
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for about thirty minutes; and she was already confident that this was the
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man that could somehow keep this ship up and running, and successfully
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patrol the Neutral Zone at the same time.
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"Bridge to Engineering."
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"Bridge, Commander Wittock here. Go ahead," Hazel Wittock turned
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momentarily away from the work she was doing on the injector alignment
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to take the call.
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"Is Captain Strachan with you? Tony says he left him in
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Engineering."
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Wittock answered for both of them, "Yes, he's here Commander."
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"Would you come up to the bridge, Captain. Were receiving new
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orders from Starfleet."
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"On my way. Strachan out." He looked at Wittock, "Better get Warp
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on-line as soon as possible."
|
||
|
|
"Sir?"
|
||
|
|
"I got a bad feeling about this."
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The bridge of the Enigma was not very large. The present day Starfleet
|
||
|
|
layout had contributed to the design by virtue of a three-seat command
|
||
|
|
well, surrounded by the typical horseshoe tactical/security station. The
|
||
|
|
rest of the command well was of the old-style design that had been
|
||
|
|
standard from the days of the old Constitution class vessels; namely the
|
||
|
|
expansive helm/ops panel. The upper level had two recessed stations, one
|
||
|
|
at either side. With forward facing consoles, these two bridge stations
|
||
|
|
accommodated the Communications Relay to the Captain's right, and the
|
||
|
|
Sciences station to his left. Two alcoves were present. The one ahead and
|
||
|
|
on the right of the Captain's central position concealed the door to the
|
||
|
|
Captain's Ready Room (which was subjectively just behind the Main
|
||
|
|
Screen). The Briefing Room entrance was next to the Turbolift, in the
|
||
|
|
other alcove, which was diagonally opposite it's counterpart. A Turbolift
|
||
|
|
stood solitary to the Captains left.
|
||
|
|
Strachan knew all this before he saw the bridge of the Enigma, but that
|
||
|
|
first view was something that he had always looked forward to. The
|
||
|
|
Captain has the right, he thought, to savour the first view of his bridge.
|
||
|
|
The Turbolift doors snapped open.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"Captain on the bridge!"
|
||
|
|
"At ease, Number one," Strachan didn't have time for the formalities.
|
||
|
|
He strided down into the Command well and turned to his First Officer.
|
||
|
|
Nicole T'zer.
|
||
|
|
Their eyes met for the first time in over eight months, "It's been a long
|
||
|
|
time, Tyler," sotto voice from T'zer.
|
||
|
|
"I know," Strachan responded in the same tone. Then he stepped up a
|
||
|
|
gear. "Report, Number One."
|
||
|
|
"Ship's status is that all auxiliary systems are on-line. All impulse
|
||
|
|
speeds available. Engineering reports that they will be attempting another
|
||
|
|
Warp power restart in 3 hours."
|
||
|
|
"Why so long?"
|
||
|
|
"Commander Wittock wants to leave the primers time to reset after the
|
||
|
|
previous episode, and the alignment checked before she 'throws a
|
||
|
|
bucketful of armageddon into the core.' Her words, not mine," T'zer
|
||
|
|
couldn't help but let out an impish grin, "It's nice to have you on board,
|
||
|
|
Sir."
|
||
|
|
"You too, Number One." Strachan turned to The Communications
|
||
|
|
Officer, "Lt Bryson, get Admiral Hansen, Starfleet."
|
||
|
|
"Aye, Sir," the young Lieutenant had only seemed to be working for a
|
||
|
|
few seconds when, "Admiral Hansen on the Main View screen, Sir."
|
||
|
|
"Thank you Lieutenant."
|
||
|
|
The main view screen changed to that of an older man, sitting behind a
|
||
|
|
desk. His face portrayed that of a man that had lived for a a lifetime
|
||
|
|
already. "How are you settling in, Tyler?"
|
||
|
|
"Hold up, Harry. I've only been on board for about 30 minutes."
|
||
|
|
"Sorry for the rush. We have a problem at this end. You understand
|
||
|
|
your orders for the patrol?"
|
||
|
|
"Yes. Why the question, Admiral?"
|
||
|
|
"Your departure time has been moved up. You leave in 15 minutes."
|
||
|
|
"WHAT!" Strachan was furious, "Have you seen the condition of this
|
||
|
|
ship!"
|
||
|
|
"Yes, I am, Tyler. Sorry."
|
||
|
|
"And you still expect us to just get up and go?"
|
||
|
|
"You don't understand the situation. The ship you were meant to
|
||
|
|
complement by the Neutral Zone?"
|
||
|
|
Strachan answered the question, "The Lafayette, it's a good ship."
|
||
|
|
"Was a good ship. Past Tense." Hansen's voice dropped a tone, "We
|
||
|
|
received a subspace message about 10 minutes ago. It was voice only. It
|
||
|
|
read as follows: 'Starfleet Command from USS Lafayette. We are under
|
||
|
|
attack. Repeat, we are under attack.' That's all we got. She stopped
|
||
|
|
transmitting. You have to get out there, Tyler. There is no patrol in
|
||
|
|
Sector 14. If the Romulans decide to invade, and that looks a strong
|
||
|
|
possibility; they can storm through this... hole in our defence and run
|
||
|
|
riot. Get out there, Tyler. Now. I don't care how you do it. Just do it."
|
||
|
|
Strachan was appalled, "Aye, Sir. Enigma out." The view screen
|
||
|
|
showed the pastoral view of the Earth, "Lets get to work, crew." He settled
|
||
|
|
back into the Command Chair. I hope to God Starfleet know what their
|
||
|
|
doing.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
=============================================================================
|
||
|
|
Chapter 4.
|
||
|
|
=============================================================================
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"I'm sorry, Hazel, but that's the way that it is."
|
||
|
|
Why the hell does this always happen to me? Hazel thought.
|
||
|
|
"I need the Warp engines on-line, and I need them on-line now.
|
||
|
|
Understood?"
|
||
|
|
"Yes, Sir. Engineering out." Struck down by the near impossibility of
|
||
|
|
the task, Wittock turned to the rest of the Engineering Department. They
|
||
|
|
were all looking at her. "You heard the man; lets move it! If he wants his
|
||
|
|
bloody engines so bad, let give them to him!" She marched out to the
|
||
|
|
main display console.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"Okay, Reeve. What temperature is the Warp core at?"
|
||
|
|
Wittock's deputy, Chad Reeve, studied the display for a moment, "2
|
||
|
|
million Kelvin, and steady."
|
||
|
|
"Bring it up to 2 and a half. Slowly."
|
||
|
|
The main core started to hum. The combination of the plasma inducers,
|
||
|
|
and the squeezing of the internal air by the large scale magnets, slowly
|
||
|
|
raised the temperature to that required for a 'cold' start.
|
||
|
|
"Core temperature is now at 2.5 million Kelvin... it's staying steady."
|
||
|
|
Wittock was wary of the next step. It required that minute amounts of
|
||
|
|
anti-matter were injected into the Warp core. The problem was not the
|
||
|
|
amount of anti-matter; more like that the stream had to be kept within a
|
||
|
|
target area of roughly 9 cubic centimetres. Considering that the anti-matter
|
||
|
|
stream was something like 11 metres long, Wittock was allowed to be
|
||
|
|
nervous.
|
||
|
|
"Introduce the anti-matter stream." She had deliberately left the next
|
||
|
|
line hanging in the air. Everyone knew that this was where the problem
|
||
|
|
had started during the last start-up.
|
||
|
|
"Anti-matter stream is starting..."
|
||
|
|
The main core started to pulse. Particles of deuterium met their anti-
|
||
|
|
particles, and the plasma streams leapt out into the power conduits...
|
||
|
|
"How's the cross-section, Reeve." Wittock looked nervous.
|
||
|
|
So did Reeve. He checked the display, "4.78cm. It looks as though we
|
||
|
|
made it"
|
||
|
|
"Bad move Chad," panic started to appear at the fringe of Hazel's voice,
|
||
|
|
"the stream's drifting! Bring the reserve phase adjustment coils up to
|
||
|
|
speed! NOW!"
|
||
|
|
The whole of Engineering moved as one. The engines had to come on-
|
||
|
|
line now, or the system would have to be laid off for days...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The Bridge crew could only sit and wait. Strachan was well aware of
|
||
|
|
the... problems that they were having. Damn, the whole ship was the
|
||
|
|
problem. He knew better than to disturb any Engineering crew whilst
|
||
|
|
starting up a Warp drive, let alone Wittock's. From what he had seen of
|
||
|
|
his new Engineer, she could be tricky to handle.
|
||
|
|
The Conn Officer, Lieutenant Robin Leflar, was probably more anxious
|
||
|
|
than most. Having served in Engineering aboard the Enterprise-D, she
|
||
|
|
knew how tricky the process was. Sitting around, waiting for whatever
|
||
|
|
was going to happen, to happen, was more than enough to put her on
|
||
|
|
edge. Law 24, she thought, What you can't fix, leave.
|
||
|
|
And the bridge waited on Engineering
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"The stream settling back into place!"
|
||
|
|
"Good work, Chad. Good work everyone." Wittock breathed a sigh of
|
||
|
|
relief. The hardest hurdle had been overcome. Time to let the bridge know
|
||
|
|
what was happening, "Wittock to Bridge."
|
||
|
|
"Strachan here. Go ahead, Engineering."
|
||
|
|
"We have a stable Warp Core. Your clear for Warp One. Be careful,
|
||
|
|
mind you."
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"Thank you, Engineering." Strachan closed the link. He turned to T'zer,
|
||
|
|
"Here we go."
|
||
|
|
"All or nothing," T'zer responded.
|
||
|
|
Strachan, smiling, turned to his Helm Officer, Pete Dalrymple, "Set
|
||
|
|
course 174 mark 53"
|
||
|
|
"Course set, Captain."
|
||
|
|
Strachan paused. He hoped Engineering were right. "Bring us up to
|
||
|
|
Warp One, Helm. nice and slow, mind you."
|
||
|
|
"Aye, Sir," Dalrymple's hands moved over the console, dancing round
|
||
|
|
the controls as if they were walking on air. The Enigma moved out of it's
|
||
|
|
high Earth orbit, heading for deep space.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"We have Warp 0.5, Captain."
|
||
|
|
"Thank you, Helm." Strachan was doing his best not to wince. This has
|
||
|
|
to be the only ship I know of that has deck plates that vibrate this bad,
|
||
|
|
he thought. He looked around at his Bridge Crew. Strachan could see the
|
||
|
|
tension that was present in their minds. The body language he could see
|
||
|
|
was to profound to misinterpret.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"Warp .6, Captain."
|
||
|
|
Strachan took in his Second Officer. Pete had been the fastest riser
|
||
|
|
through the ranks that he had known, making his present rank in just
|
||
|
|
under three years, mainly because of the commando raids he had led into
|
||
|
|
Cardassian space. It had taken Strachan 6 years to reach the same level as
|
||
|
|
Pete was at.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"Warp .7, Captain."
|
||
|
|
I'm going to have to have a word with Wittock about these deck
|
||
|
|
plates. This ship was definitely not in the best of condition. I hate to
|
||
|
|
think what Warp 5 is going to be like. Probably tear us apart, even
|
||
|
|
without that damned speed limit that Starfleet have imposed.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"Now at Warp .8."
|
||
|
|
T'zer was worried as well. All her training had led up to this point. Only
|
||
|
|
another year, her father had said, then you'll have your Captaincy. Her
|
||
|
|
Vulcan training said that to her as well. The advantages of being brought
|
||
|
|
up by the Federation Ambassador on Vulcan had it's advantages. Mind
|
||
|
|
you, being a human on Vulcan had been awkward. Nobody to enjoy the
|
||
|
|
sunset with. She stole a glance at Tyler.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"Now at Warp .9." Dalrymple's voice sounded strained.
|
||
|
|
The vibration was getting to Strachan. He was thankful that he had a
|
||
|
|
seat. How did Bowland manage to keep upright. Sure, the vibrations
|
||
|
|
weren't that bad. But, boy, they set him on edge. It was like sitting on a
|
||
|
|
laboratory centrifuge. Suddenly, the vibrations ceased.
|
||
|
|
"We have Warp One... Now."
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The Enigma heeled over, accelerated past the speed of light, and a
|
||
|
|
cascade of quantum light swallowed it, as if it had never been there. The
|
||
|
|
stars all seemed to be pointing to it's destination.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The Neutral Zone.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
===========================================================================
|
||
|
|
Chapter 5.
|
||
|
|
==========================================================================
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Strachan looked round his bridge. They were within 6 hours of arriving
|
||
|
|
at the Neutral Zone. It had been a long journey from Earth; soon they
|
||
|
|
would soon be arriving. But Strachan could not keep the doubts from the
|
||
|
|
back of his mind that if the Romulans really wanted to start a war, the
|
||
|
|
Enigma was in no shape to stop them. He turned his back on the screen,
|
||
|
|
and entered the conference room.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Strachan strided in, and took his seat at the head of the kidney-shaped
|
||
|
|
oak table. His Senior Officers were there; T'zer, Dalrymple, Bowland,
|
||
|
|
Wittock and Dr Eastmore. He made a start. "You all know what were going
|
||
|
|
to be up against. I need to know how you all feel about the... situation we
|
||
|
|
may find ourselves in."
|
||
|
|
"Try suicide."
|
||
|
|
"Commander Wittock?"
|
||
|
|
"Let's not beat around the bush, Captain. We can't defend ourselves
|
||
|
|
from a wet fish, let alone the Romulans. If we go into combat, we die.
|
||
|
|
Simple as that."
|
||
|
|
T'zer countered, "Surely you don't believe that. The whole point of us
|
||
|
|
being here is so the Romulans know that were watching them."
|
||
|
|
"You think that's going to stop them! I've fought them, Commander! I
|
||
|
|
know what to expect-"
|
||
|
|
"Ease up, Hazel." Strachan could definitely see where she stood on this
|
||
|
|
point. What about the rest of the crew? "Bowland, what do you think?"
|
||
|
|
The Sicilian Security Chief thought for a moment before answering his
|
||
|
|
Captain. "If we go into combat in our present state, we would only have
|
||
|
|
minimal shield, so we could not stay and fight. Neither do we have enough
|
||
|
|
Warp power to run away, although that option has it's merits."
|
||
|
|
Dalrymple jumped in, "Such as?"
|
||
|
|
"We would live longer... by about 5 minutes"
|
||
|
|
Wittock joined in the fray, "That's a bit optimistic, Tony."
|
||
|
|
Strachan sized up the situation. He agreed with everything that his crew
|
||
|
|
had said, but he was the Captain, he had to remain strong. Even though
|
||
|
|
my legs feel like jelly, he thought. "All we have to do, is our duty."
|
||
|
|
The emotion he saw round the table convinced him that no-one was
|
||
|
|
even sure about that. The intercom chirped.
|
||
|
|
"Captain, this is Lieutenant Leflar. Were picking up some sporadic
|
||
|
|
energy readings on the scanners. This close to the Neutral Zone, it
|
||
|
|
seems decidedly out of place."
|
||
|
|
"Understood, Leflar. I'm on my way," he turned to face his staff, "Let's
|
||
|
|
go."
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
As the Officers standing post at the stations were dismissed, Strachan
|
||
|
|
and T'zer both headed to the Sciences station, where Leflar was working.
|
||
|
|
"What's up, Lieutenant?" T'zer asked.
|
||
|
|
"I'm not sure. Have a look and see if you can make it out." A perspective
|
||
|
|
view of the sensor readout appeared.
|
||
|
|
"Correct me if I'm wrong," T'zer asked, "but should we be picking up that
|
||
|
|
much neutron radiation in this sector?"
|
||
|
|
"No," Strachan replied. "Leflar, try to pin down the source"
|
||
|
|
"Aye, Sir." Leflar started to work. Along with T'zer's help, it would only
|
||
|
|
take a few minutes.
|
||
|
|
Strachan took in the Bridge while he was waiting. He was definitely on
|
||
|
|
edge. The last time he had felt like this was when he first saw that damned
|
||
|
|
Cube four years ago. Only this time, it was worse. At least then, he could
|
||
|
|
count on his ship. Now, even that bubble had been burst. And his crew.
|
||
|
|
they were all so young. They had no experience to fall back on. Just
|
||
|
|
instincts. Strachan hoped that Starfleet hadn't signed all their discharge
|
||
|
|
papers. Permanently.
|
||
|
|
"Result coming through, Captain."
|
||
|
|
"Thanks, Number One." he turned back to the station, "Where's it
|
||
|
|
coming from, Leflar?"
|
||
|
|
Leflar sounded puzzled, "Directly aft, Sir. It's almost as if it's..."
|
||
|
|
T'zer looked at Leflar, "As if it's what?"
|
||
|
|
"Leflar looked into her eyes. "As if it's... following us"
|
||
|
|
T'zer looked up, fear registering in her eyes. They met Strachan's, and
|
||
|
|
her voice, almost a whisper, talked to him. "A Cloaked Ship"
|
||
|
|
Strachan's insides turned. "Bowland, Shields Up! NOW!"
|
||
|
|
T'zer acted almost as quick. "Bryson, Red Alert! All decks!"
|
||
|
|
And, as the Captain and his First Officer vaulted for the command-well,
|
||
|
|
Bowland voiced their worst fears. "Warbird decloaking to the rear."
|
||
|
|
"Evasive action, Mr Dalrymple." Strachans tone was a machine-gun.
|
||
|
|
Bowland carried on, "It's firing. Incoming Plasma Torpedoes."
|
||
|
|
"Hard to port!"
|
||
|
|
The torpedo hit.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"Damage Report." T'zer shouted.
|
||
|
|
Bowland answered. "Decks 7,8 and 9 report major damage. All
|
||
|
|
offensive fire control has been rendered inoperable. Shields are at 57%."
|
||
|
|
"Why is a Romulan Warbird this far out of the Neutral Zone?" Leflar's
|
||
|
|
question went unanswered.
|
||
|
|
"It's firing again."
|
||
|
|
"Thanks Bowland. Pete, full evasive."
|
||
|
|
"Aye, Sir."
|
||
|
|
The Enigma rolled over and dived down, out of the ecliptic plane. But
|
||
|
|
the Warbird followed, and more importantly, so did the plasma torpedo.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"Bridge to Engineering."
|
||
|
|
"Wittock here, go ahead Captain." her voice sounded strained.
|
||
|
|
"I need all reserve power to the shields"
|
||
|
|
"No dice, Captain. All the relays are down. Its going to take a couple
|
||
|
|
minutes to reset, even on full override."
|
||
|
|
"Do it quickly," Strachan closed the link. "Time to impact?"
|
||
|
|
T'zer answered, "10 seconds."
|
||
|
|
Strachan beckoned to Bryson, "All decks, brace for impact!"
|
||
|
|
The second torpedo hit.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The bridge of the Enigma rocked, as the inertial dampers struggled to
|
||
|
|
maintain an even keel. The lights snapped out. Almost as quickly, the
|
||
|
|
emergency lighting laid it's dull, red glow around the chaos. People were
|
||
|
|
picking themselves up off the floor. The Warbird circled the Enigma and
|
||
|
|
took up station in front of the Starfleet vessel.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Strachan coughed blood from his throat. This is not a good day, he
|
||
|
|
thought. "Ship status." It was more of an order than a question.
|
||
|
|
Bowland dragged himself up to the Tactical console, and hung on
|
||
|
|
tightly. It was obvious that his leg was broken. "Shields are at 11%. the
|
||
|
|
Warp engines have dropped off-line. Most primary systems have failed,
|
||
|
|
including Life Support. Gravity Generators have been damaged, they are
|
||
|
|
only giving out 0.7g."
|
||
|
|
That's why I feel so light, T'zer thought. "Anything else?"
|
||
|
|
"That's all I can glean from the auxiliary circuits. Apart from the fact
|
||
|
|
that it's obvious that we cannot withstand another plasma attack."
|
||
|
|
"I'm aware of that, Mr Bowland."
|
||
|
|
Lieutenant Bryson interrupted his Captain, "Sir, I'm receiving a message
|
||
|
|
from the Romulan Warbird."
|
||
|
|
Strachan looked up at him. "On screen, Bryson."
|
||
|
|
The view screen gave out a burst of static. Through it, the Bridge crew
|
||
|
|
of the Enigma could just make out their opposite numbers aboard the
|
||
|
|
Warbird. The nearest Romulan spoke.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"I am Commander T'orak; Captain of this vessel. This sector has
|
||
|
|
been annexed by the Romulan Star Empire. Your presence here is an
|
||
|
|
act of war. You have precisely two minutes to surrender your ship; or
|
||
|
|
we shall destroy it."
|
||
|
|
T'orak disappeared from the screen, the communication cut. The crew
|
||
|
|
were stunned into silence. An act of war.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The Warbird maintained station. Decloaking, three more Warbirds
|
||
|
|
appeared around the stricken Starship. Enigma was surrounded...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
*************************************************************************
|
||
|
|
* *
|
||
|
|
* T O B E C O N T I N U E D . . . *
|
||
|
|
* *
|
||
|
|
*************************************************************************
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Chapter 6 is posted on January 10th...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Merry Christmas.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Ewan Spence, Edinburgh University.
|
||
|
|
ewans @ castle.ed.ac.uk
|
||
|
|
exs @ dcs.ed.ac.uk
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
|
||
|
|
Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!pipex!uknet!festival!castle.ed.ac.uk!ewans
|
||
|
|
From: ewans@castle.ed.ac.uk (Ewan Spence)
|
||
|
|
Subject: Star Trek - The New Frontier - CHAPTER 6
|
||
|
|
Message-ID: <CJKBwn.B8G@festival.ed.ac.uk>
|
||
|
|
Sender: news@festival.ed.ac.uk (remote news read deamon)
|
||
|
|
Organization: Edinburgh University
|
||
|
|
Date: Thu, 13 Jan 1994 10:02:45 GMT
|
||
|
|
Keywords: Finally...
|
||
|
|
Lines: 318
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The Author Speaks...
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
Right. No apology for the delay. I've finally decided that abscence makes
|
||
|
|
the heart grow fonder. Unfortunatly, I have a few things to complain
|
||
|
|
about. Well, one.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
When I posted Chapter 1, I got a response file that was close to the 20k
|
||
|
|
department. For Chapter 5, remembering that it had 3 weeks to gain
|
||
|
|
responses, and not 3 day a la Chapter 1, a response file of 8K is pathetic.
|
||
|
|
PATHETIC!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The only differnece that I can see is that I blackmailed you on Chapter 1.
|
||
|
|
Now, I don't want to do that again. So, chapter 7 will definitly follow next
|
||
|
|
Thursday. Any postings ater that are IN YOUR HANDS, AND YOUR
|
||
|
|
HANDS ALONE.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
You have three choices:
|
||
|
|
1) For peolpe with little time.
|
||
|
|
Post me a sig file, and a line or two on how much you are enjoying TNF.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
2)For people with a few minutes to spare.
|
||
|
|
Post me a paragraph or two of your opinons.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
3)For people who really know what I appreciate.
|
||
|
|
Post a big letter, with a review, some questions, and who you think
|
||
|
|
should play the roles when Paramount decide to buy the format and film
|
||
|
|
it for the new ST series (HAH!).
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
If I can spend hours writing this, you can at least show some nettiquette
|
||
|
|
and tell me what you think about it.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
(Chastising mode... off)
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Back to more friendly things. Chapter 6 shows something not commonly
|
||
|
|
seen before. Action. It also has a bit of treknobabble. I'm not quite sure if
|
||
|
|
I pulled this off as successfully as I set it up (Another thing you could
|
||
|
|
write to me about!). It's twice as long as any chapter beforehand, and
|
||
|
|
Chapter 7 will be about the same length. Some people are going to scoff
|
||
|
|
at the idea I've implemented, but it was the only idea that I had that
|
||
|
|
remained a) plausible in the ST universe, and b) the least hokey-est.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Enjoy.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
P.S. Congratulations to one of my readers, Mike Finn. He got married
|
||
|
|
over the Christmas break. Well done and good luck, Mike!
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
Star Trek - The New Frontier.
|
||
|
|
A Bridge to Far.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Star Trek - The New Frontier, created by Ewan Spence.
|
||
|
|
Based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenbery.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
All new material here is copyright Ewan Spence. Ewan Spence asserts
|
||
|
|
the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. You are free
|
||
|
|
to distribute this work, as long as it kept together, remains unedited, and
|
||
|
|
you charge no more than nominal copying costs.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
=============================================================================
|
||
|
|
Chapter 6.
|
||
|
|
=============================================================================
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Captain's Log: Stardate 48024.9. The situation is desperate. En route to
|
||
|
|
the Neutral Zone, we have been ambushed by 4 Romulan Warbirds. They
|
||
|
|
purport to be in a state of war with the Federation. Needless to say, we
|
||
|
|
have not been informed of such a declaration, even if there has been one.
|
||
|
|
Nevertheless, we have sustained major damage to all of our primary
|
||
|
|
systems. Warp power has temporarily failed. Life support has switched
|
||
|
|
to the modules present in the emergency shelters. Hull integrity has
|
||
|
|
been comprimised in the lower three decks. All phaser banks have been
|
||
|
|
destroyed. Photon torpedo fire control has dropped off-line. Shield
|
||
|
|
condition is minimal. The Romulan Commander has given us two
|
||
|
|
minutes to surrender...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"I take it that surrender is not a viable option." Peter Dalrymple voiced
|
||
|
|
what all of the bridge was thinking.
|
||
|
|
"You take it right, Pete." Strachan was thinking furiously, how do I get
|
||
|
|
out of this one? 4 Warbirds would be a hard case for one of Starfleet's
|
||
|
|
flagship Galaxy class vessels; but the Enigma! Nevertheless...
|
||
|
|
"Engineering, I need Warp speed in under 2 minutes, or we're all dead."
|
||
|
|
Wittock's voice forced itself through the speaker. It was obvious that
|
||
|
|
she was on a rebreather unit, "You have to be joking, Captain! I need at
|
||
|
|
least 15 minutes to even consider bringing the impulse engines back on-
|
||
|
|
line, let alone think about the-"
|
||
|
|
"You don't have that sort of time." T'zer cut her off, "Very soon, 4 very
|
||
|
|
angry Warbirds are going to rip us open and scatter us to the four winds.
|
||
|
|
You got two minutes; we need full Warp. Do it."
|
||
|
|
"Yes sir." Wittock's caustic tone closed the link.
|
||
|
|
"Warp power alone isn't going to be enough, you know, Tyler."
|
||
|
|
"I know, Nicole. I know."
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The condition in Engineering was far from pretty.
|
||
|
|
"It's the damned Kobyashi all over again, that's what it is."
|
||
|
|
"Hazel?"
|
||
|
|
"Sorry, Chad. Jury-rigging anti-matter systems in the sort of time the
|
||
|
|
bridge has given us is- Seal coolant conduit 43, Ensign!- I mean."
|
||
|
|
"Couldn't we just..."
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Back on the bridge, Strachan was still struggling with the situation, "I
|
||
|
|
would appreciate some help here. Assuming we get our warp engines
|
||
|
|
back-"
|
||
|
|
Leflar interrupted, "Ninety seconds, Sir."
|
||
|
|
"Thank you, Leflar," T'zer replied, "If we get them back, how do we use
|
||
|
|
them, right?"
|
||
|
|
"Right."
|
||
|
|
"Captain, why can't we just ram the power full on, and aim for a gap?"
|
||
|
|
Dale Bryson, at communications, asked the obvious question.
|
||
|
|
Bowland replied, "By applying warp power, there is a momentary lag
|
||
|
|
while the warp field forms. The Romulans, being accomplished
|
||
|
|
warmongerers, would be watching for just that, and..."
|
||
|
|
"So use our ECM channels to jam their sensors."
|
||
|
|
T'zer answered, "ECM only covers targeting, Bryson. They would see
|
||
|
|
the power up as clear as a nova."
|
||
|
|
"Sixty seconds."
|
||
|
|
"It's a good idea, Bryson. Anyone else?" Strachan enquired.
|
||
|
|
Leflar suddenly chipped in, "So we need to blind the Warbird sensors
|
||
|
|
totally. Correct?"
|
||
|
|
"4 Warbird's sensors, remember," Bowland reminded the young conn
|
||
|
|
officer.
|
||
|
|
"Thanks, Tony," Leflar said, "We use a static discharge, Captain."
|
||
|
|
"Leflar?" Strachan enquired, quizzically.
|
||
|
|
Leflar spoke more confidently this time. "I read a paper about it a few
|
||
|
|
months ago. The Marines," a cursory nod towards Dalrymple, "rigged a
|
||
|
|
multi-role shuttle to give out the required static field for some sort of
|
||
|
|
increased phaser range effect. It blinded the sensors of a nearby frigate.
|
||
|
|
Only for a few seconds, mind you-"
|
||
|
|
"But Tyler," T'zer reminded Strachan, "we don't have those sort of
|
||
|
|
generators on-board the Enigma."
|
||
|
|
"Yeah-"
|
||
|
|
"Engineering to Bridge."
|
||
|
|
Strachan looked up at the ceiling, hopefully, "Bridge here. Go ahead,
|
||
|
|
Wittock."
|
||
|
|
The strained voice sprung out of the air, "I think we got minimum warp
|
||
|
|
power. Maybe warp two. But it's 50-50 at best."
|
||
|
|
"Keep at it, Hazel.But were going to need more. A lot more. Bridge out."
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"Thirty seconds."
|
||
|
|
"Okay, Leflar. With warp back on-line, it looks like all we need is this
|
||
|
|
discharge. Ideas?"
|
||
|
|
Pete turned into the command well, "Couldn't we adapt the forward
|
||
|
|
shield generators. I mean, if it comes off, the Romulans are going to be
|
||
|
|
on our tails..."
|
||
|
|
T'zer jumped on it. "Brilliant Pete. Bowland, can you do it."
|
||
|
|
Bowland paused. "With the reserve power we have, forcing it all
|
||
|
|
through the forward array... in conjunction with the remaining batteries
|
||
|
|
would result in an overload and... probably create the desired effect. It
|
||
|
|
would also give out a lovely flare."
|
||
|
|
"Aesthetic as ever, Tony," T'zer quipped, "How long?"
|
||
|
|
"A few moments."
|
||
|
|
Strachan turned to Bowland, "Would it blind all the Romulans?"
|
||
|
|
"In all likelihood, yes Sir."
|
||
|
|
A smile tried to escape from Strachan's face, "Okay lets do. Bowland,
|
||
|
|
on my mark, flare the shields. Pete, right after that, best warp on course
|
||
|
|
300 mark 0."
|
||
|
|
"Aye, Sir."
|
||
|
|
Strachan turned to T'zer, "We may yet see the light of day."
|
||
|
|
"Pardon the obvious, but where do we go at warp 2, with 4 Warbirds
|
||
|
|
trying to be... neighbourly?" Her left eyebrow jumped up.
|
||
|
|
"The Promise Land" Tyler quipped. He spoke quietly next. "Once more
|
||
|
|
unto the breech, dear friend."
|
||
|
|
And then, with the air of dignity that comes from placing his life, and
|
||
|
|
those of his friends, on the longest long shot that Tyler had ever gambled
|
||
|
|
on, he gave the count-down...
|
||
|
|
"3... 2... 1... mark."
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Darkness.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The Enigma drifted at the crux of the Warbirds, which were bearing all
|
||
|
|
their weapons banks, menacingly, on the stricken Miranda Class vessel.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Brilliant white light.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The front portion of the Enigma was enveloped in a star-burst of
|
||
|
|
blinding energy that whisked across the saucer, under the impulse unit,
|
||
|
|
and past the warp nacelles.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Plasma torpedoes ensued from the Warbirds. The incandescent glow,
|
||
|
|
centred on the Enigma, flickered briefly. The torpedoes detonated.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Darkness.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"We are clear of the Warbirds, and moving at warp 2."
|
||
|
|
Strachan looked up at his Tactical Officer. He could clearly see the
|
||
|
|
emotion on Bowland's face. "I take it they're following?"
|
||
|
|
"Yes, Sir. They are accelerating to warp 2... warp 3... warp 4... stable at
|
||
|
|
warp 4."
|
||
|
|
"We're going to need more," T'zer noted.
|
||
|
|
"I know," Strachan turned to the Helm. "Pete, red-line the engines."
|
||
|
|
"I'm being over-ridden by Engineering, Captain."
|
||
|
|
"Damn." Strachan barked into the comm unit, "Bridge to Engineering.
|
||
|
|
Wittock, take out the inhibitors."
|
||
|
|
The Chief Engineer's voice came back almost immediately. "No way,
|
||
|
|
Captain. We overloaded every intact conduit that the ship has, plus a few
|
||
|
|
I didn't know even existed. Any more and the core is going to shatter,
|
||
|
|
even-"
|
||
|
|
"Shatter the core, Commander Wittock," Strachan snapped. He was
|
||
|
|
slowly losing his temper with his Engineer. She was saying all the right
|
||
|
|
things, but in this type of situation- "Okay, Pete. Red-line them."
|
||
|
|
"Aye, Sir," Pete looked worried. "We have warp 3... 3.5... Warp 4."
|
||
|
|
The Enigma started to shake. Deckplates were vibrating, Bowland's
|
||
|
|
almost gave way. The broken leg couldn't take the pounding.
|
||
|
|
Pete continued, "Warp 4.5. She's becoming sluggish, Sir. I think warp
|
||
|
|
5 is all were going to get."
|
||
|
|
"The Warbirds have increased to warp 5. They are holding in diamond
|
||
|
|
formation, Sir."
|
||
|
|
The strain showed on Strachan. "How we doing, Pete?"
|
||
|
|
"Warp... 5. Just. We can't hold it for long."
|
||
|
|
The Enigma rocked.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Bowland diagnosed the cause, "Romulan disrupter fire. At this range,
|
||
|
|
the shields can barely cope."
|
||
|
|
T'zer turned, "Shield state?"
|
||
|
|
"Risen to 34% All power is being routed to the rear shields." A display
|
||
|
|
chirped, "The Romulans have increased to Warp 6."
|
||
|
|
"Time to primary plasma range?"
|
||
|
|
"2 minutes, Captain."
|
||
|
|
"Leflar, how long to the nearest outpost?" T'zer enquired.
|
||
|
|
Another explosion rocked the ship. The rear computer bank exploded.
|
||
|
|
Leflar flinched at the noise, "At warp 5, about 40 minutes." She paused,
|
||
|
|
"It's too far, isn't it."
|
||
|
|
"That's enough of that, Leflar," Strachan retorted. "We need more
|
||
|
|
speed."
|
||
|
|
Bryson looked at the command crew, "Couldn't we kill the gravity
|
||
|
|
generators. They're already at .7, can we drop down any more?"
|
||
|
|
"T'zer?" Strachan looked for her opinion. He saw what he wanted.
|
||
|
|
"I'm on it." T'zer got up and made for the Science Station. She could
|
||
|
|
make the changes there. Another disruptor bolt hit he ship.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Bowland made the call, "Rear shields now at 13%"
|
||
|
|
"Time to plasma range?" Strachan asked.
|
||
|
|
"1 minute at our present speed."
|
||
|
|
"They still in formation?"
|
||
|
|
"Yes, Sir."
|
||
|
|
T'zer interrupted the tactical discussion, "Dale's gravity idea is ready to
|
||
|
|
go. I'm dropping to one-tenth gee."
|
||
|
|
"Good work. Pete, Best speed. Bryson, better alert all decks."
|
||
|
|
The shipped rocked, more violently this time. The Warbirds were
|
||
|
|
closing. The bridge crew were finding it hard to stay seated, and now with
|
||
|
|
limited gravity...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"Speed's rising. We have warp 5.1..." Another explosion- "5.3..." The
|
||
|
|
roof conduit exploded- ".7..." It crashed to the floor. "Warp 6."
|
||
|
|
A synthesied voice jumped from nowhere, "Warning, Exceeding Warp 5
|
||
|
|
is not permitted under Starfleet Standing Orders, Regulation-"
|
||
|
|
"4 Warbirds, and we're keel-hauled by the Enviromentalists. Cancel it."
|
||
|
|
T'zer reached her seat. "We're going to have to watch for debris. Low
|
||
|
|
gravity, same momentum."
|
||
|
|
Bowland joined in, "The Warbirds are now at warp 7. They are breaking
|
||
|
|
formation. Perhaps they are reaching their limit, Sir?"
|
||
|
|
More dulcet tones of the computer interrupted, "Warning. Warp shear
|
||
|
|
overstress. Warning, warp shear overstress-"
|
||
|
|
"Shut that damn thing off" Strachan was close to breaking.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Enigma started to revolt against it's captors; Corridors around Sickbay
|
||
|
|
were staring to fill with the wounded; Conduits that couldn't take the
|
||
|
|
pressure were rupturing; The warp core in Engineering was showing
|
||
|
|
signs of stress. The deckplates on the lower decks were slowly staring to
|
||
|
|
buckle.
|
||
|
|
"Wittock to bridge. What the hell are you doing to my ship?"
|
||
|
|
"Wittock, it's this or the Romulans. Take your pick."
|
||
|
|
"We won't need to choose very soon. You're going to rip the nacelles
|
||
|
|
off the damned ship if this speed keeps up-"
|
||
|
|
"That's enough Wittock. Just hold us together." The link closed, but
|
||
|
|
there was no let up.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"Primary plasma range in 60 seconds." Lieutenant Robin Leflar was
|
||
|
|
sitting at the conn station. Suddenly, a reading gave her a puzzled look,
|
||
|
|
"Captain, I'm picking up some strange readings at 045 mark 030-"
|
||
|
|
"Range?" Strachan looked hopeful for a second.
|
||
|
|
"5 minutes at present speed, Captain."
|
||
|
|
"Damn! Thought we had something there. We need more speed."
|
||
|
|
T'zer laid her hand on Strachan's, "Tyler, it's more energy we need. The
|
||
|
|
speed would come naturally after that."
|
||
|
|
"What else do we have." Strachan looked forlorn, " We need the
|
||
|
|
Integrity field. Now more than ever, and the dampers...," he paused. "The
|
||
|
|
dampers."
|
||
|
|
"Wait up," The penny dropped. "Without the dampers, we turn into
|
||
|
|
pancakes," T'zer protested
|
||
|
|
A thin smile reached Strachan's face. "But we don't use all it's power.
|
||
|
|
Just enough to outrun the enemy."
|
||
|
|
Dalrymple joined in the objection. "We would still end up in Sickbay
|
||
|
|
for weeks. The internal injuries would be-"
|
||
|
|
"Hold up, Pete," Leflar interrupted, "The Inertial Dampers are so power
|
||
|
|
intensive, we could probably siphon off just enough power to outrun
|
||
|
|
them, and still remain under the threshold"
|
||
|
|
"Time to plasma range, Tony."
|
||
|
|
"30 seconds."
|
||
|
|
"T'zer, get to work on the dampers. If you drop down the centre-line
|
||
|
|
protection, we should be able to put up with about... a 5 gee fore-aft
|
||
|
|
acceleration. But you don't have long."
|
||
|
|
"Okay." T'zer's tried to sound hopeful, "But with all the safeguards, and
|
||
|
|
the amount of time... I'll do my best."
|
||
|
|
"You always do, Nicole." Strachan felt old. A bunch of kids, doing their
|
||
|
|
best. A ship that should have been scrapped years ago, ready to tear itself
|
||
|
|
apart. A fleet of Warbirds willing to help it. And me. Where did I go
|
||
|
|
wrong? "This better work..."
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
=============================================================================
|
||
|
|
Chapter 7 will be posted on Thursday, 20th January...
|
||
|
|
=============================================================================
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
===============================================================================
|
||
|
|
= _______ =
|
||
|
|
= STAR TREK |_______> EXPERIENCE THEIR FIRST, TERRIFYING ADVENTURE =
|
||
|
|
= ----------- | | _._ ABOARD THE USS ENIGMA, IN =
|
||
|
|
= THE NEW _____| |__--------' '--------__________ =
|
||
|
|
= FRONTIER. \____| |_ --------------------- ________/ "A BRIDGE TO FAR." =
|
||
|
|
= / | '-------___ ___-------' =
|
||
|
|
= ________________/_____\_____________ STAR TREK - THE NEW FRONTIER, =
|
||
|
|
= \ [=========================] [==] ) WRITTEN AND CREATED BY EWAN SPENCE =
|
||
|
|
= '---------------------------------/ exs@dcs.ed.ac.uk ewans@castle.ed.ac.uk =
|
||
|
|
===============================================================================
|
||
|
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|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
|
||
|
|
Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!pipex!uknet!festival!castle.ed.ac.uk!ewans
|
||
|
|
From: ewans@castle.ed.ac.uk (Ewan Spence)
|
||
|
|
Subject: Star Trek - The New Frontier - Chapter 7
|
||
|
|
Message-ID: <CJxDAD.89A@festival.ed.ac.uk>
|
||
|
|
Sender: news@festival.ed.ac.uk (remote news read deamon)
|
||
|
|
Organization: Edinburgh University
|
||
|
|
Date: Thu, 20 Jan 1994 11:01:24 GMT
|
||
|
|
Lines: 333
|
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|
|
||
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|
||
|
|
Quick Note From Author.
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
Right. You probably want to get straight on with Chapter 7, so I'll put all
|
||
|
|
the talkie stuff at the end...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
Star Trek - The New Frontier.
|
||
|
|
A Bridge to Far.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Star Trek - The New Frontier, created by Ewan Spence.
|
||
|
|
Based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenbery.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
All new material here is copyright Ewan Spence. Ewan Spence asserts the
|
||
|
|
moral right to be identified as the author of this work. You are free to
|
||
|
|
distribute this work, as long as it kept together, remains unedited, and you
|
||
|
|
charge no more than nominal copying costs.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
Chapter 7.
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The eternity of space stretched out among the stars. Distance almost
|
||
|
|
immaterial. The becalmed nature was wrenched apart, silently. A white
|
||
|
|
disc, spewing high-energy effluxes, emerged. Then, emptiness.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Tranquillity temporarily gained the upper hand.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Four more intruders signalled their invasion. And as quickly as the first,
|
||
|
|
they vanished into the blackness.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Space closed ranks on itself, again. Peace returned.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"20 seconds till primary Plasma range."
|
||
|
|
Captain Tyler Strachan barely acknowledged his Security Officer, his
|
||
|
|
mind was working furiously. "T'zer, the dampers?"
|
||
|
|
Nicole T'zer, First Officer aboard the USS Enigma, turned to her
|
||
|
|
Captain, "It's ready. I've tied it into your panel, Captain. Bowland, you'd
|
||
|
|
better take this console. I can't imagine you standing after this one."
|
||
|
|
"Thanks for the thought." Bowland limped over to the reconfigured
|
||
|
|
Sciences Station.
|
||
|
|
"Everyone ready?" Strachan looked hurriedly round his bridge. "Here we
|
||
|
|
go." He pressed the light.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
An immense hand grabbed at every fibre of the Enigma, and it's crew.
|
||
|
|
The forces of nature hurled the flotsam ever onward to it's destiny.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Strachan caught his breath. This plan could only be regarded as
|
||
|
|
foolhardy, at best. With the Warbirds closing into firing range, the
|
||
|
|
Enigma had needed every possible nuance of speed, and more. In
|
||
|
|
desperation, he had ordered the Inertial Dampers efficiency to be dropped
|
||
|
|
to let loose more power for the quickly sickening engines. Maybe five
|
||
|
|
gee's was to much.
|
||
|
|
"Pete, are we getting any more?" The question struggled out of Strachan.
|
||
|
|
The Second Officer was having just as much difficulty speaking as
|
||
|
|
Strachan, "Speed rising, Warp 6.5. Warp 7. Warp 7.5. Warp 8. 8.3.
|
||
|
|
Stabilising at Warp 8.5."
|
||
|
|
"Bowland, Romulan Status?"
|
||
|
|
Tony Bowland, now at the Sciences Station, but reconfigured to his
|
||
|
|
Tactical readouts, answered his Captain. "They have definitely broken
|
||
|
|
formation. One of the Warbirds have fallen behind, two are at Warp 8.7
|
||
|
|
and will be in range in 3 minutes. The final Warbird is at Warp 8.9, and
|
||
|
|
will be in range in 60 seconds."
|
||
|
|
"Leflar, where's that sensor blip you had a moment ago?" Strachan knew
|
||
|
|
even a deuce would be helpful against the four bullets on his tail.
|
||
|
|
"Sir?" A lot had happened in the last few moments. "Aye Sir. Bearing is
|
||
|
|
now... 064 mark 030. It's just under 3 minutes at present speed." Leflar
|
||
|
|
turned her head towards Strachan, but not without difficulty, "We probably
|
||
|
|
could make it in before the Romulans, just, if it wasn't for the lead ship."
|
||
|
|
"Okay, Leflar. Any idea what it is?"
|
||
|
|
"With the sensors available, not until were almost right on top of it."
|
||
|
|
T'zer turned as well, "It's all we've got, Tyler."
|
||
|
|
"Agreed." Strachan didn't even pause, "Pete, set course for the anomaly."
|
||
|
|
"Sir." Dalrymple hit the controls. The Enigma yawed, slowly, towards
|
||
|
|
the disturbance. The Romulans, moments later, attacked the course
|
||
|
|
change.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
"We still need to slow down the lead Warbird."
|
||
|
|
"Thanks for the reminder, Tony." Along with the rest of the ship's
|
||
|
|
complement, T'zer was struggling against the force unleashed by the
|
||
|
|
dampers. Enigma was in the process of getting ready for her final dance
|
||
|
|
with death. Only the torturing by her occupants was holding her back.
|
||
|
|
"Minefield." Strachan's voice sounded strained, but his eyes had lit up
|
||
|
|
with hope.
|
||
|
|
"What?" T'zer knew that look, but didn't see where it was leading.
|
||
|
|
"If we can drop a mine, the Warbird would-"
|
||
|
|
"We have no mines, Tyler." T'zer's face couldn't hide the
|
||
|
|
disappointment.
|
||
|
|
Strachan smiled, "No. But we do have anti-matter containers."
|
||
|
|
"You gotta be joking," T'zer looked horrified, "We need all we've-"
|
||
|
|
"We have thirty tanks. Drop one of them. It should explode near the
|
||
|
|
Lead ship. Only chance." Strachan's face, apart from the smile, looked set
|
||
|
|
in it's way.
|
||
|
|
T'zer didn't pause for more than a breath. "Agreed. Bridge to
|
||
|
|
Engineering."
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The situation in Engineering was dire. That initial Romulan attack had
|
||
|
|
shattered one of the Coolant pipes, resulting in everyone having to move
|
||
|
|
onto rebreathers. The continuing sniping from the Warbirds had
|
||
|
|
emphasised the precariousness of their position. Now, with the reduced
|
||
|
|
support from the inertial dampers, the crew were having problems
|
||
|
|
maintaining station. Temporary barriers had been set up by the vital
|
||
|
|
monitors. Staff were pinned to them, and struggling against one in her
|
||
|
|
office, was Lieutenant Commander Hazel Wittock, the Enigma's Chief
|
||
|
|
Engineer.
|
||
|
|
"Begging the Captain's pardon," Wittock continued, "but this is even
|
||
|
|
more half-cocked than the dampers. That crazy idea's putting enough
|
||
|
|
strain on the dilithium housing as it is. To drop-"
|
||
|
|
"No time left. Just do it." T'zer's sharp tounge cut her off.
|
||
|
|
"This is madness." Wittock looked across the engineering deck, "Reeve,
|
||
|
|
get a load of this one..."
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Back on the bridge, Nicole turned to Tyler, "I think we need to have a
|
||
|
|
word with our Engineer when this is over."
|
||
|
|
"If it's ever over, I'll consider it," even with the increased gravity,
|
||
|
|
Tyler turned to give her a smile. "Bowland, time to the Romulan?"
|
||
|
|
"20 seconds"
|
||
|
|
"Come on Wittock."
|
||
|
|
"Engineering to Bridge. Your party piece is ready. I still don't approve
|
||
|
|
of this, though."
|
||
|
|
"Noted, but this is our last shot. Tie the toggle into the Tactical-"
|
||
|
|
"Coming through now. Engineering, out."
|
||
|
|
Strachan indicated to his Tactical Officer, "Got it?"
|
||
|
|
"Got it, Captain."
|
||
|
|
"Good. Drop it at the last possible moment before they're in range."
|
||
|
|
"Understood. Dropping in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... mark."
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The Enigma sprinted ever onwards. On it's underside, a hatch flew off,
|
||
|
|
into the oblivion. Following it, the Enigma disgorged a hexagonal canister.
|
||
|
|
It drifted. The Enigma continued on it's mad dash.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The lead Warbird ran over it's efflux. The canister drifted through the
|
||
|
|
crescent cut-out of the enemy vessel. Inside, the magnetic field, drained
|
||
|
|
of power, cut out. Minute particles flew apart due to the nuclear forces,
|
||
|
|
and jolted on the sides of the pod.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
A tremendous explosion hit the shield of the Romulan Warbird. The
|
||
|
|
shield protested for a moment, and then submitted. Raw anti-matter hit the
|
||
|
|
surface of the vessel. The Starboard nacelle, temporarily ripped free,
|
||
|
|
pinwheeled into the forward boom section. The anti-matter continued
|
||
|
|
blossoming. The temporarily liberated nacelle was consumed. Then the
|
||
|
|
boom section. And then, the latent forces threw the remnants of the
|
||
|
|
Warbird, now no more than ashes, to the interstellar winds.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The Enigma fared little better in the explosion. The distance travelled
|
||
|
|
since the ejection was no more than infinitesimal when compared to the
|
||
|
|
power of nature that had been unleashed. The headlong run into oblivion
|
||
|
|
was forced further on, in groaning protest, by the wash from the
|
||
|
|
explosion. All over the ship, Enigma signalled its intent to surrender.
|
||
|
|
Deck-plates shattered, power conduits ruptured in electrifying splendour.
|
||
|
|
Life support, already running off auxiliary systems, struggled against the
|
||
|
|
inevitable hull breaches.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The Engineering decks, 5 and 6, were taking the brunt of the protest.
|
||
|
|
Hazel Wittock could read, in her instruments, the condition of the ship.
|
||
|
|
But it was in her heart, that she felt the pain, and the suffering. Enigma was
|
||
|
|
drawing on her last vestiges adrenalin. Hazel knew that she was losing...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The Bridge looked as if it had been to hell, and back. The emergency
|
||
|
|
lighting, the faithful glow of red, had given up the battle. Illuminated by
|
||
|
|
the jaded glow from the few panels that were still reporting the morbid
|
||
|
|
facts of her condition, the Enigma was like a ghost-ship, careering into
|
||
|
|
hell.
|
||
|
|
"Sensors report successful detonation," reported Bowland, once his
|
||
|
|
eyes re-adjusted to the light.
|
||
|
|
"And the Warbird?" Coupled with the lack of a stable gravity, the hell on
|
||
|
|
Earth, resulting from the lack of illumination, made even Strachan's voice
|
||
|
|
sound infantile.
|
||
|
|
"No discernible readings." Bowland voice took on a slight lilt, "I think
|
||
|
|
we can notch up a kill."
|
||
|
|
"A lucky break at last," commented T'zer.
|
||
|
|
"Lets hope for another one," Strachan noted. "Leflar, how's your
|
||
|
|
distortion shaping up?"
|
||
|
|
"We'll be in full sensor range in a few moments, Captain."
|
||
|
|
The bridge fell into a muted silence. The remaining Romulans would
|
||
|
|
have noted what had happened to their counter-part. They would be sure
|
||
|
|
not to let the same thing occur to them.
|
||
|
|
Leflar cut through the hush, "Getting initial readings now."
|
||
|
|
"Time till we're in it?" T'zer asked.
|
||
|
|
"90 seconds."
|
||
|
|
"And the Romulans?"
|
||
|
|
Bowland this time. "90 seconds."
|
||
|
|
"Okay. Leflar, tell us what it is," Strachan implored.
|
||
|
|
Robin Leflar studied her instruments. The battle, if that's what you
|
||
|
|
could call it, seemed to vanish from her mind. Something jumped into her
|
||
|
|
mind: Your neutrinos' are drifting. She couldn't quite place it. She snapped
|
||
|
|
back to the present.
|
||
|
|
"Yes, Sir. Picking up sporadic radiation, possibly a- no, it can't be." The
|
||
|
|
last line was almost a whisper.
|
||
|
|
"It can't be what, Leflar?" This from T'zer.
|
||
|
|
Leflar's voice came back in a hush, "These readings bear a striking
|
||
|
|
similarity to those from that Fed Bajoran space station. The one with the...
|
||
|
|
wormhole."
|
||
|
|
Strachan's eyes seemed to gasp for him, "Are you trying to tell me we
|
||
|
|
are barrelling, at over warp 8, towards a," he paused, "wormhole?"
|
||
|
|
"I think I am, Sir. But this has fundamental changes from the other one.
|
||
|
|
It looks like this is highly unstable. It wasn't here during the last sweep
|
||
|
|
that the Lafayette reported on, when she was on station."
|
||
|
|
"We could use it as a bolthole," T'zer exclaimed.
|
||
|
|
"It's no use," Strachan sighed. "The Warbirds would just follow us
|
||
|
|
through."
|
||
|
|
"Not if we close the door." Pete Dalrymple piped up.
|
||
|
|
"What do you mean, Pete?" Strachan asked.
|
||
|
|
"I got an idea. Leflar, time to the wormhole?"
|
||
|
|
"Now at 45 seconds."
|
||
|
|
"Bowland, the Warbirds?" Dalrymple continued.
|
||
|
|
"45 seconds."
|
||
|
|
T'zer interrupted, "What's on your mind?"
|
||
|
|
"Well, Commander. If, just as we enter the 'hole, we drop a couple of
|
||
|
|
photons out the rear launcher, we might collapse the entrance," Pete's face
|
||
|
|
suddenly gained a cruel smile, "around the Warbirds."
|
||
|
|
Dale Bryson had been sitting quietly at his post. He suddenly spoke in
|
||
|
|
amazement to his superiors, "But we'd end up trapped on the other side.
|
||
|
|
That could be anywhere!"
|
||
|
|
"Have we got any other options?" Strachan looked around the bridge.
|
||
|
|
"Thought not. Right, we'll go with it Pete; even though the stress is
|
||
|
|
probably going to rip us apart. Leflar, give me a constant countdown from
|
||
|
|
now on-"
|
||
|
|
"Aye, Sir."
|
||
|
|
"Bowland, have we any rearward photons?"
|
||
|
|
"In the state the system is-," Bowland stopped, and looked at his
|
||
|
|
Captain. I was wrong about him, he thought, we did need this desk jockey.
|
||
|
|
"I'll have two ready when you need them, Sir."
|
||
|
|
"30 seconds."
|
||
|
|
Leflar's words hung on the bridge. It had become deathly quiet.
|
||
|
|
"20 seconds."
|
||
|
|
Bowland broke the quietness, "Torpedoes ready, Captain. Warbirds
|
||
|
|
closing-" his voice suddenly rose, "-Warbirds firing. Incoming Plasma
|
||
|
|
torpedoes. Impact in 10 seconds."
|
||
|
|
Strachan knew this would happen. "They've rumbled!"
|
||
|
|
T'zer fought to keep the panic out of her voice, "Leflar! Time!"
|
||
|
|
"10 seconds!"
|
||
|
|
"Bowland?"
|
||
|
|
"Impact in 8 seconds!"
|
||
|
|
Strachan threw his dice the final time. "Bowland, put our torpedoes onto
|
||
|
|
automatic fire control, if we still have it."
|
||
|
|
"We still have it, Sir. Control passed over. Impact in 4 seconds."
|
||
|
|
"Leflar?"
|
||
|
|
"5 seconds to wormhole."
|
||
|
|
We're not going to make it, Strachan thought.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The first plasma torpedoes impacted into the Enigma. Helpless, she
|
||
|
|
keeled over. Warp fields started to collapse around her. She dropped to
|
||
|
|
Warp 7. The force from the foreign projectiles tipped the Enigma over,
|
||
|
|
like a piece of derelict space junk. Warp 5. The second torpedo hit. The
|
||
|
|
sheer speed of the Enigma kept her path in a semblance of a straight line.
|
||
|
|
The hull itself was writhing in pain. Warp 3. Her space frame shrieked in
|
||
|
|
anguish. The Warbirds closed, and let loose with disruptor fire. Warp 1.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The fabric of space ignored itself for a second. The area in front of the
|
||
|
|
Enigma suddenly seemed to fold in on itself, and a light brighter than a
|
||
|
|
thousand suns eclipsed the tiny ship to it's aggressors. The light winked
|
||
|
|
out. Precious moments later, the rip exposed itself for a second time. The
|
||
|
|
Warbirds pounced on the saviour. The luminescence swallowed the ships,
|
||
|
|
and then, in a cacophony of light, the forces of creation bowed to the
|
||
|
|
pressures of the Enigma's parting sacrifice. The Warbirds saw, briefly, the
|
||
|
|
eternity of space and time, and then ceased to exist, joining the portal in
|
||
|
|
the gallery that was known as... oblivion.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Peace returned.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
T O B E C O N T I N U E D . . .
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Thus ends Part 2.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Some of you may be disappointed in what has happened here. Many of
|
||
|
|
you, in your letters (of which the flow has now, mysteriously, risen; keep
|
||
|
|
it up!) have made relations to how 'Starfleet won't like this, or that, etc.'
|
||
|
|
have missed the points that I made when I started this all off, namely that
|
||
|
|
this was to be MY version of the new Star Trek series, Voyager. This
|
||
|
|
nessecitated in some jiggery-pokery to get them a long, long way away.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
(It was either this, or Q. And I thought using Q would be to hokey)!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Okay, miscellaneous points. I forgot to thank Simon Proctor in Chapter
|
||
|
|
6, who helped me refine the original shield-flare technique. You all
|
||
|
|
seemed to accept this as possible, so some credit should go to Simon.
|
||
|
|
Throwaway lines have been present. Chapter 7 goes to Mike 'newley-wed'
|
||
|
|
Finn.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The Bar. Enigma, like most Federation ships, has a communual bar area.
|
||
|
|
Unfortunatly, I can't call it 10-Forward, primarily because it's been done
|
||
|
|
before, and the bar is on Deck 4! Suggestions for names would be
|
||
|
|
welcomed. I'll put up a prize for the winner (if it's good enough)!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Suggestions for people you'd like to see in the lead roles are another
|
||
|
|
thing I'm looking for. it's amazing the amount of people you think are
|
||
|
|
suitable for the crew. Someone even recommended John Cleese for
|
||
|
|
Bowland's role...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
For the people who are reading this, and wondering what the hell is
|
||
|
|
going on... Back Chapters are being stored in Joe Young's archive
|
||
|
|
(129.130.10.80), in the pub\alt.startrek.creative\incomplete archive. If
|
||
|
|
you've no access to FTP, then you can mail me for them.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Finally, a big thanks to all those who have taken the time to E-mail me
|
||
|
|
their thought on TNF (THANK YOU!!!). Judgement Day may be a while in
|
||
|
|
coming, but when it does, all your names are in my 'nice people who
|
||
|
|
should actually get to live' book. Repent now!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
PS:- Never, ever, play poker with DavidF, from Glasgow Uni! He knows
|
||
|
|
what I mean!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
--Ewan (the (popular?) Author).
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
===============================================================================
|
||
|
|
= _______ =
|
||
|
|
= STAR TREK |_______> EXPERIENCE THEIR FIRST, TERRIFYING ADVENTURE =
|
||
|
|
= ----------- | | _._ ABOARD THE USS ENIGMA, IN =
|
||
|
|
= THE NEW _____| |__--------' '--------__________ =
|
||
|
|
= FRONTIER. \____| |_ --------------------- ________/ "A BRIDGE TO FAR." =
|
||
|
|
= / | '-------___ ___-------' =
|
||
|
|
= ________________/_____\_____________ STAR TREK - THE NEW FRONTIER, =
|
||
|
|
= \ [=========================] [==] ) WRITTEN AND CREATED BY EWAN SPENCE =
|
||
|
|
= '---------------------------------/ exs@dcs.ed.ac.uk ewans@castle.ed.ac.uk =
|
||
|
|
===============================================================================
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
|
||
|
|
Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!pipex!uknet!festival!castle.ed.ac.uk!ewans
|
||
|
|
From: ewans@castle.ed.ac.uk (Ewan Spence)
|
||
|
|
Subject: Star Trek - The New Frontier - Chapter 8
|
||
|
|
Message-ID: <CKAHM3.F31@festival.ed.ac.uk>
|
||
|
|
Sender: news@festival.ed.ac.uk (remote news read deamon)
|
||
|
|
Organization: Edinburgh University
|
||
|
|
Date: Thu, 27 Jan 1994 13:03:38 GMT
|
||
|
|
Lines: 218
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
It's here!!
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Chapter 8 of A Bridge To Far.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Firstly, though, a few things to note. This is the begining of Part
|
||
|
|
3. A Bridge To Far consists of the prolouge, Parts 1 through 5, and an
|
||
|
|
epilouge (Even though evrything is labelled as chapters, you should be
|
||
|
|
able to spot the joins.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
I WANT E-MAIL!!! Do I need to drum this into you? After a wonderful
|
||
|
|
response to chater 6, chapter 7 was pitiful. I don't care if all you
|
||
|
|
send is a paragraph or two on your opinions (but I'd preffer a nice big
|
||
|
|
letter)! I respond to EVERY BIT of mail on TNF I recieve, and will
|
||
|
|
answer questions or plot queries or birthday requests in as much detail
|
||
|
|
as needed, and then possibly some more.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Back to the story. It seems you all enjoyed the hell bent run into
|
||
|
|
oblivion in the last few weeks, but now, the pace slows down a bit.
|
||
|
|
Hopefully, I'm doing the right thing with some of the characters, and
|
||
|
|
hopefully, the story should be (starting to) bind together now (I hope
|
||
|
|
so, anyway)!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
So, read Chapter 8, think about it, go have a nice hot cup of tea,
|
||
|
|
and mail me on what you think!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
--Ewan (the (patiently waiting for E-mail) Author)
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
Star Trek - The New Frontier.
|
||
|
|
A Bridge To Far.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Star Trek - The New Frontier, created by Ewan Spence.
|
||
|
|
Based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
All new material here is copyright Ewan Spence. Ewan Spence asserts
|
||
|
|
the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. You are free
|
||
|
|
to distribute this work, as long as it is kept together, remains unedited,
|
||
|
|
and you charge no more than nominal copying costs.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
Chapter 8.
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
He dragged himself up from the floor, shaking his head to clear it.
|
||
|
|
Only then did Captain Tyler Strachan realise that his ship was not
|
||
|
|
attempting to pound him against the rear wall. The micro-gravity
|
||
|
|
carressed him back, towards the floor of the bridge. His eyes attempted
|
||
|
|
to pierce through the near darkness. "Nicole! Oh no..." Memories of a
|
||
|
|
distant battle invaded his mind. Not again.
|
||
|
|
The heap of flesh groaned. "Tyler?"
|
||
|
|
"I'm here."
|
||
|
|
"What happened."
|
||
|
|
"I..." Strachan could make out some outlines. Common-sense took
|
||
|
|
over from the emotions. "Anyone else up and running?"
|
||
|
|
"I think so."
|
||
|
|
"Bryson?" Tyler looked over at where the voice came from. Dale
|
||
|
|
Bryson, Communications Chief, was balanced across the upper level,
|
||
|
|
head on his console, heels on the railings. The advantages of having a
|
||
|
|
tenth gee.
|
||
|
|
"I'm fine, Sir," pushing himself into a lazy arc towards the command-
|
||
|
|
well, "Leflar doesn't look it," as he arrived at the expansive console. "I'll
|
||
|
|
see to her."
|
||
|
|
"Good." Turning to face the opposite station, "Bowland, you hear me?"
|
||
|
|
Strachan had left the relativly comfortable Nicole T'zer, and was drifting
|
||
|
|
towards his Security Officer. Bowland had definitly seen better days. His
|
||
|
|
legs, broken in the encounter, had become entwined with the base of the
|
||
|
|
chair. Blood was seeping from his left temple, which had impacted on
|
||
|
|
the Sciences Console. The chest was awash with blood. It looked as if he
|
||
|
|
was praying to the console. "Jesus Christ, Tony."
|
||
|
|
"You got a pulse?"
|
||
|
|
Strachan turned, "You just sit back, Nicole." He reached down to
|
||
|
|
Bowland's neck. There was a pulse. Thready, but there. "Bowland's still
|
||
|
|
with the living, but only just."
|
||
|
|
Meanwhile, Bryson had revived the young Conn Officer. "How do you
|
||
|
|
feel, Robin?"
|
||
|
|
"I have a terrible headache."
|
||
|
|
"You look fine," Bryson smiled. Leflar did not look fine. Her right eye
|
||
|
|
was a mass of blood, and the shoulder directly below it was dislocated,
|
||
|
|
but...
|
||
|
|
"I'm going to check on Pete-"
|
||
|
|
"No need, Dale. I'll live. Anyone knows how to tourniquet their leg."
|
||
|
|
Most of Pete Dalrymple's uniform top was in rags, holding the blood in
|
||
|
|
his leg, rather than on the floor. He pushed away from his station towards
|
||
|
|
Strachan, "How's Tony?"
|
||
|
|
Strachan's hands didn't stop, Bowland was losing a lot of blood from
|
||
|
|
his chest, "Pretty bad. We need a medical team up here."
|
||
|
|
Dalrymple lost no time, the rest of his shirt flew round Bowland's
|
||
|
|
abdomen, metamorphosising into another field dressing.
|
||
|
|
Meanwhile, T'zer had pulled herself into the Command Chair, and was
|
||
|
|
rapidly checking the Enigma's main systems. Emergency lighting
|
||
|
|
trickled back to life. "Looks like Miss Wittock is still with us. I alerted
|
||
|
|
Sickbay, but it looks like the whole comm system just dropped off-line.
|
||
|
|
Mind you, I think Eastmore got the message."
|
||
|
|
And then, the turbolift doors parted by a few inches, and a pair of
|
||
|
|
hands emerged, followed in a few seconds by the diminutive Dr
|
||
|
|
Eastmore.
|
||
|
|
"You know, I don't usually make house calls."
|
||
|
|
"Brian!"
|
||
|
|
He saw the blood-soaked hands, "Tyler, what happened to you?"
|
||
|
|
"No time. See to Bowland."
|
||
|
|
Eastmore nodded. He moved round to the Science Station, and gently
|
||
|
|
pulled Dalrymple away. A sphere of blood drifted out into the gang-way,
|
||
|
|
and Eastmore got to work.
|
||
|
|
More medical staff drifted up and out, onto the bridge. They dispersed
|
||
|
|
towards the depleted bridge crew with typical efficency. Strachan
|
||
|
|
shunned the Ensign, approaching him, towards T'zer. He stayed with
|
||
|
|
Bowland.
|
||
|
|
"What do you think, Brian?"
|
||
|
|
"I think," this while hypo'ing directly into Bowlands torso, "that Mr
|
||
|
|
Dalrymple is... a very good field doctor. Other than that, Bowland needs
|
||
|
|
to be moved to Sickbay. Yesterday. Davidson, Marsa." Eastmore
|
||
|
|
communicated the Lieutenant's condition, and they took him to the
|
||
|
|
Turbolift shaft.
|
||
|
|
Tyler suddenly worked out what was bothering him, "There's no
|
||
|
|
turbolifts. Brian, did you come up the service ladder?"
|
||
|
|
Eastmore smiled, "Tyler, in a tenth gee, coming up from deck 6 is no
|
||
|
|
problem. Now the rest of the bridge has been seen to, we finally get to
|
||
|
|
you. Come on."
|
||
|
|
"I'm just bruised. Save your time for those that need it."
|
||
|
|
Eastmore ignored the comment, and proceeded to run the tricorder
|
||
|
|
over Strachan. He spent less than thiry seconds.
|
||
|
|
"Readings are tolerable just now, but I want you in for a full check-up
|
||
|
|
in the next day or two."
|
||
|
|
"Understood."
|
||
|
|
T'zer interrupted from the command-chair, "Engineering reports
|
||
|
|
Turbolifts coming back on-line. I've isolated turboshaft 2 so the medical
|
||
|
|
crews don't get into a one sided... arguement." She smiled.
|
||
|
|
Engineering was true to their words. Within moments, Strachan could
|
||
|
|
hear the impending arrival of a turbo-lift at the rear shaft. The doors
|
||
|
|
snapped open. Hazel Wittock stormed out, a ball of fire.
|
||
|
|
"What the hell are you doing to my ship!"
|
||
|
|
Strachan turned. "Ready Room! Now!"
|
||
|
|
The Bridge turned decidedly icy.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* * * * * * * *
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
The whirlwind ended when Strachan reached the far side of his desk.
|
||
|
|
Wittock's arms slammed into the edge of the desk, taking her weight.
|
||
|
|
"You went too far!"
|
||
|
|
"No, Commander. You did!" Strachan had, involentary, adopted
|
||
|
|
Wittock's stance on his side of the desk. Captain and Engineer were eye
|
||
|
|
to eye.
|
||
|
|
"You're not going to lay this one on me. This ship went so far beyond
|
||
|
|
the horizon that we came this close," illustrated with finger and thumb,
|
||
|
|
"this close!"
|
||
|
|
"That's not why we're here."
|
||
|
|
"Wrong. That's why I'm here!"
|
||
|
|
Strachan said nothing for moments. He raised himself up to his full
|
||
|
|
height. "Commander Wittock. Attention. Immediatly."
|
||
|
|
Wittock lifted herself off the table. Slowly. Her eyes never leaving
|
||
|
|
Strachan's.
|
||
|
|
"This is not what-"
|
||
|
|
"Silence! Let's get a few things straight, I talk, you listen."
|
||
|
|
"Captain-"
|
||
|
|
"I talk. You." he paused, "listen. Understood, yes or no?"
|
||
|
|
"Yes..." Strachan raised a condescending eyebrow. "Sir."
|
||
|
|
"When I give an order, I expect it to be carried out. Understood?"
|
||
|
|
"Sir."
|
||
|
|
"Carried out, immediatly."
|
||
|
|
"Sir."
|
||
|
|
"Not questioned."
|
||
|
|
"Sir."
|
||
|
|
"Not over-ridden."
|
||
|
|
"Sir."
|
||
|
|
Throughout all this, Strachan had been behind his desk. Now, he moved
|
||
|
|
out.
|
||
|
|
"Face front!"
|
||
|
|
Strachan started to pace round Wittock. "You are a Commander. I am
|
||
|
|
the Captain. The buck stops with me. Not you!"
|
||
|
|
"Sir."
|
||
|
|
"If I want to change course, what will happen to the ship?"
|
||
|
|
"It will change course, Sir."
|
||
|
|
"If I want to set self-destruct, what will happen to the ship?"
|
||
|
|
"It will self-destruct, Sir."
|
||
|
|
"If I want to fly the ship apart, what will happen to the ship,
|
||
|
|
Commander?"
|
||
|
|
"It will fly apart, Sir."
|
||
|
|
"Do you spot the pattern?"
|
||
|
|
"Sir."
|
||
|
|
"Good." Strachan had ended up mere inches from Wittock's face. He
|
||
|
|
moved away, back behind the desk, and sat down. "Now, return to
|
||
|
|
Engineering. Conduct a full, ship-wide diagnostic. The report is to be in
|
||
|
|
my hands in 20 minutes." Strachan's eyes moved back, and gazed directly
|
||
|
|
into Wittock's. "Dissmissed."
|
||
|
|
"But, Captain-"
|
||
|
|
"Wittock! Drop that tone out of your voice." His voice became more
|
||
|
|
delicate, "I don't expect to have to have this conversation again.
|
||
|
|
Dissmissed."
|
||
|
|
"Sir." Wittock turned, viciously, and thundered out.
|
||
|
|
Strachan pivoted round and looked around the Ready Room. Situated
|
||
|
|
just in front of the bridge, a large bay window took up the forward wall.
|
||
|
|
Strachan stood in front of it, and gazed out amoung the ancient miracles.
|
||
|
|
I don't recognise even one of these constellations. Where the hell are
|
||
|
|
we...
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
Chapter 9 hits the ether next Thursday
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
===============================================================================
|
||
|
|
= _______ =
|
||
|
|
= STAR TREK |_______> EXPERIENCE THEIR FIRST, TERRIFYING ADVENTURE =
|
||
|
|
= ----------- | | _._ ABOARD THE USS ENIGMA, IN =
|
||
|
|
= THE NEW _____| |__--------' '--------__________ =
|
||
|
|
= FRONTIER. \____| |_ --------------------- ________/ "A BRIDGE TO FAR." =
|
||
|
|
= / | '-------___ ___-------' =
|
||
|
|
= ________________/_____\_____________ STAR TREK - THE NEW FRONTIER, =
|
||
|
|
= \ [=========================] [==] ) WRITTEN AND CREATED BY EWAN SPENCE =
|
||
|
|
= '---------------------------------/ exs@dcs.ed.ac.uk ewans@castle.ed.ac.uk =
|
||
|
|
===============================================================================
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
|
||
|
|
Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!hobbes.physics.uiowa.edu!math.ohio-state.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!pipex!uknet!festival!castle.ed.ac.uk!ewans
|
||
|
|
From: ewans@castle.ed.ac.uk (Ewan Spence)
|
||
|
|
Subject: Star Trek : The New Frontier : Chapter 9
|
||
|
|
Message-ID: <CKnKnE.41q@festival.ed.ac.uk>
|
||
|
|
Sender: news@festival.ed.ac.uk (remote news read deamon)
|
||
|
|
Organization: Edinburgh University
|
||
|
|
Date: Thu, 3 Feb 1994 14:38:01 GMT
|
||
|
|
Lines: 153
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
It's Time For The Author To Speak!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
(E-mail has slowed up, get it going again....)
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Not a lot to say this week. I've had it rough, so I hope you lot
|
||
|
|
appreciate Chapter 9. It's going to get depressing from here-on-in.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Oh, well. Till next Thursday.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
--Ewan (the (Not in the best Frame Of Mind) Author)
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
============================================================================
|
||
|
|
Star Trek - The New Frontier.
|
||
|
|
A Bridge To Far.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Star Trek - The New Frontier, created by Ewan Spence.
|
||
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Based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry.
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All new material here is copyright Ewan Spence. Ewan Spence asserts
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the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. You are free
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to distribute this work, as long as it is kept together, remains unedited,
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and you charge no more than nominal copying costs.
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============================================================================
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Chapter 9.
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============================================================================
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It had taken the medical staff less than 20 minutes to give each crew
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member a brief check-up. It was not good. Out of a crew of 169,
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everyone had at least two or three problems. Almost 40 had to be taken
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to sickbay, 26 in a critical condition, Bowland among them. There had
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been 18 deaths. It was a full hour before Strachan had been able to pull
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the bulk of his remaining senior staff out of making emergency repairs,
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so that they could call some shots.
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The Observation deck was again full, and clearly lit, now that
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Engineering had managed to get the main Life Support back on-line.
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Around the table with Strachan were T'zer, Dalrymple, Wittock and
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Eastmore. Bowland's place was taken by his deputy, Amber Hardcastle.
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Strachan had left the bridge in Leflar's hands.
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"...sickbay can cope, Captain."
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"Thank you, Doctor. Commander Wittock, inform us of your latest
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findings on the ship's condition."
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"A deathtrap."
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They all smiled, T'zer especially. All except Strachan.
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"Wittock." The warning in his tone was obvious.
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Wittock's expression betrayed itself, "We were damned lucky. The
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final plasma attack took out the warp drive. Coupled with that sort of
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damage, and the strain placed on the core, I'm amazed that we lasted as
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long as we did. Even at that, we've just found out that the Dilithium
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articulation frame, thanks to the forces it experienced, fractured most of
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the crystal. When the Warp comes back on-line, we won't have long."
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"Till?"
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"Till no more functional dilithium crystals. And then we can't focus the
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plasma stream. Full stop. No warp power. At all."
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Eastmore's face looked horrified. "Then how do we get home?"
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Strachan pivoted, "Miss Hardcastle?"
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"With what little sensors we had left ten minutes ago, our sighting
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range is less than half a parsec. We can only detect one star. It has two
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planets in orbit around it. One is M class. Better readings should be
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available as soon as the main array comes on-line."
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Dalrymple turned to her, "How far?"
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"The M class planet?"
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"Yeah. How far?"
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"8 hours at Warp 1."
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"That's cutting it fine," Wittock interrupted. "8 hours of Warp 1 is
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going to run the system bone-dry."
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"Will it hold?" T'zer asked.
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"No choice, Commander. It has to."
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Silence.
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Strachan knocked that on it's head, "Commander. It will hold, won't it."
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It was not a question.
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"I know a few tricks. We'll get there, Captain."
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"Then we hope we can find some lithium to synthesise," this from
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T'zer.
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"The impulse engines should hold together for a couple of weeks orbit
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time," Wittock stated. "And I'll be able to process the lithium using
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impulse power alone. If you don't mind breaking a few regulations,
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Captain."
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Strachan almost laughed. He caught himself in time. "Okay,
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Commander. I'll take the rap." The pseudo-strictness faded. Polite
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chuckles were heard.
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T'zer came in, "Anything else?"
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Nobody indicated there were.
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"Okay. Dissmissed."
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They filed out. All except Strachan. T'zer saw this, and made her way
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back towards the head of the table.
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Neither of them said anything for a minute or two. Finally, Strachan
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raised his eyes to meet T'zers. "What have I done." The voice was deadly
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quiet.
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T'zers response was just as silent. "What you had to do."
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"I know. But... Damn," This was forced out. "What the hell were
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Starfleet on when they sent this flea-pit out. They lose a ship. So what do
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they do? Send a sacrifice to see if the Romulans are really at war. And I
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was their thorn. They might has well fired me." He collapsed in the chair.
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Nicole T'zer moved in behind him. Hesitently, her hand rested on
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Tyler's shoulder. "You don't really mean that. When you called me, you
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were so high on-"
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"I was blind."
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"The good usually are."
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"If I ever see Hansen again..."
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"I know." Nicole waited a heartbeat, and tightend her hold on Tyler's
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shoulder.
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This bridge looked as if an Acadamey Class just failed the final
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scenario again, Dalrymple thought. Repair crews were hanging from
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panels, legs seemed to grow out from under the stations. "Anything to
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report, Leflar?"
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"Engineering expects Warp power to be available in 40 minutes. We
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should also be getting some initial readings from the long-range sensor
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in a few moments."
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"Thank you, Lieutenant. Take the Sciences Station, and find out where
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the hell we are."
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"Aye, Sir." Leflar proceeded to move to the alcoved station, being
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careful, now that the gravity was back to normal.
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The bridge returned to the frenzied calm for a few minutes. Leflar
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broached it. "Hardcastle, come and take a look at these readings."
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Lieutenant Amber Hardcastle, deputy Security Chief, arrived behind
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Leflar. "What is it?"
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"The sensors have just passed a Level 1 diagnostic, but I'm not even
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picking up a carrier wave from the Starfleet relay beacons."
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"But, that can't be." Hardcastle looke stunned.
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"You got something?" Dalrymple materialised beside the two
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lieutenants.
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"Could be Sir. "Leflar answered. "Without the beacons-"
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"The subspace relay beacons?"
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"Yes, Sir.I t's going to be incredibly hard to pin down our location. We
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don't even have a speed or time base to try to extrapolate."
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"Any ideas?" Hardcastle asked Dalrymple.
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Pete sighed. "Nope. Leflar?"
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"Just one. I could try to identify 3 pulsars from their on-off cycle, and
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use the redshift to triangulate Enigma's position. It wouldn't be very
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accurate, mind you-"
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"Do it."
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"Aye Sir."
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Dalrymple stayed with Leflar. "How long?"
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"A few minutes."
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They waited. "Coming through now, Sir. Oh no."
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"Run it again." Dalrymple looked in shock at the readout.
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Leflar re-started the program, and this timne monitored the
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calculations.
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The time seemed to strech out. Finally, the screen duplicated the
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number.
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"How long to reach even a suitable distance for Starfleet to send out a
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long-range rescue tanker? On a one-way trip for the tanker."
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"At cruising speed?"
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"Yeah."
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Leflar touched some controls. Almost instantaneously, the computer
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printed up their destiny. "Over 26 years..."
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============================================================================
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