3890 lines
133 KiB
Plaintext
3890 lines
133 KiB
Plaintext
From shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu Wed Jun 24 17:13:50 1992
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id AA19159; Wed, 24 Jun 92 18:13:39 -0400
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id AA07628; Wed, 24 Jun 92 18:14:05 -0400
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Message-Id: <108240967662381EMU0000@buchmf>
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From: shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu (shimkevi)
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To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
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Subject: Grey Stars Data File
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Date: Wed Jun 24 18:14 EDT 1992
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1. The Bridge of the U.S.S. Resilient:
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(and some observations on it)
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----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Turbolift door
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______________________
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6 7
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________
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| - 1 |
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|______|
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_______ _______
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\ \ / /
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\ \ / /
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\ \ / /
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\ \ 3 4 / /
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2 \ --------| |-------- / 5
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\ | | /
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\ ______| |______ /
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/ / \ \
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/_____/ \_____\
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====================
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Main viewscreen
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1 - Captain's chair
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2 - Science Officer Station
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3 - Helm
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4 - Navigation
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5 - First Officer Station (communication and weapons systems)
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6,7 - Auxilliary stations (usually not manned)
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The reasons for placing bridge consoles in certain places have always been
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mostly psychological. It is still a tradition that a helmsman and a navigator
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should be facing the main viewscreen and, as we can see, it was still observed
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in the bridge design for the Resilient. The first officer, unlike the
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Enterprise-D, has his own station and a rather heavy share of workload, which
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stems from the fact that the Surya-class starships have a much smaller crew as
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compared to the Galaxy class (it is worthwhile to remember that Spock, the
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first officer on board the original Enterprise, also doubled as a Science
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Officer).
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Regardless of that, this bridge still has more in common with the Enterprise-D
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bridge than with the original Enterprise bridge. In the times of James T.
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Kirk, the general design philosophy was that the captain should oversee the
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work of the bridge personnel, thus all the stations were on the perimeter so
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that the captain could (in theory) observe each display from his (or her...)
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chair. However, this was rarely the case due to two reasons: the distance was
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still too great to pay attention to any details, besides, the personnel
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manning those stations were more qualified in their respective fields, anyway.
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Besides being rather ineffective, that particular bridge design had another
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drawback, mostly psychological. It is a conditioned reflex for all military
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personnel (OK, para-military) to face the captain if addressed. As the bridge
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was designed in the TOS, Spock and Uhura had to turn around every time Kirk
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asked them a question (Uhura, in fact, was always sitting half-turned), which
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clearly reduced efficiency and created a conflict of interest (of a kind).
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In contrast, the TNG bridge has most of its workstations in the back, which
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are usually manned by people excluded from the decision-making process and,
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therefore, rarely addressed by the captain. Those, whose opinions count (First
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Officer and Counselor) are seated next to the captain. True, there is an
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exception: when Data mans (androids?) the navigation, he often turns around to
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talk to the captain, but then again, Data is probably the only
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navigator/helmsman in Starfleet whose opinions count.
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Now, on the Resilient, the first officer and the science officer are important
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in the decision-making process. Both, however, have a large workload to take
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care of as well. Therefore, they are seated at large consoles AND facing the
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captain. The only drawback is that they cannot see the main viewscreen, but
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that's not really necessary for the kind of work they do. There is a small
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screen in each of their consoles, anyway.
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2. The Dropship.
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As it always is with military technology, a breakthrough in one field leads to
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the development of techniques designed to counter it. A transporter is no
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exception: widely available (on the black market, that is) and relatively
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inexpensive jamming equipment makes it impossible to use the transporter in
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most SWAT operations. Thence the need for a dropship.
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The standard SWAT dropship (like the one on board the U.S.S. Resilient) is
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actually two ships - a warp-capable assault craft and a landing module.
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There are many different kinds of landing modules - some are nothing more than
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short-range shuttlecraft that can separate and maneuver independently, others
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are basically armored personnel carriers. If needed, a specialized module can
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be constructed on board the RRF starship to meet the requirements of a
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specific operation.
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After the separation of the assault craft and the landing module, the latter
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proceeds to acccomplish the main objective of the mission. The assault craft
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assists the SWAT team by providing air support, jamming the short-range enemy
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communcations, etc. In case of a space-based counterattack, the objective of
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the assault craft is to engage the enemy until the landing module returns to
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the mothership.
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The assault craft is armed with two forward-firing disruptors for space
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combat, two phaser banks for air-to-ground attacks plus a variable complement
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of missile weapons. It also carries powerful subspace jamming equipment.
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-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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From shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu Wed Jun 24 17:12:09 1992
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Return-Path: <shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu>
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id AA22992; Wed, 24 Jun 92 17:12:05 -0500
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Received: from BUCHMF.BU.EDU by chem.bu.edu (5.61+++/JLK-1.5)
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id AA19107; Wed, 24 Jun 92 18:11:56 -0400
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id AA07570; Wed, 24 Jun 92 18:12:20 -0400
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Message-Id: <108240967662275EMU0000@buchmf>
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From: shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu (shimkevi)
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To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
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Subject: Grey Stars 1
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Date: Wed Jun 24 18:12 EDT 1992
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Grey Stars, copyright 1992 by Sergei Shimkevich
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"Star Trek" is a registered trademark of Paramount Communications, Inc.
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Dr. Matthew and his Nurse, copyright by Masamune Shirow/Seishinsha
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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This is a story influenced by the works of Masamune Shirow (Appleseed,
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Dominion, Ghost in the Shell), that takes place in ST:TNG universe.
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All names are strictly products of imagination. Any resemblance to real
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persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
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The opinions expressed in the story are not necessarily those of the author.
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-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Cast of Characters:
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U.S.S. RESILIENT
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A Surya-class starship (a Next Generation version of Reliant) with additional
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modifications that include a large shuttle bay for launching planet assault
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troops (the ship has a special SWAT unit for planetside operations). Assigned
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to the Rapid Response Force (RRF), a semi-autonomous Starfleet unit. Duties
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include (but by no means limited to) hostage rescue and anti-terrorist
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operations.
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The creation of the RRF was quite a controversial decision that was taken to
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the Federation High Council and passed only by two votes. Many Starfleet
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officers, incuding Captain J-L Picard, felt that the creation of a separate
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police force is unnecessary and undermines the founding principles of the
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Federation.
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VILDAN CEVELEK
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Captain of the USS Resilient. One of the youngest captains in Starfleet, in
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fact owing her position to the creation of the RRF.
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Hair: red
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Eye color: green
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Age: 32
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Rank: obvious
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JANOSZ ILLY
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First officer.
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Hair: black
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Eye color: brown
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Age: 32
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Rank: Commander
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RENA KAMIE
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Pilot of the multi-purpose craft aboard the Resilient
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Hair color: brown
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Eye color: blue
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Age: 21
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Rank: Jr. Leutenant
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AMU SAGIE
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The ship's Science officer. A friend of Rena.
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Hair color: blond
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Eye color: green
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Age: 22
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Rank: Leutenant
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Note: Rena and Amu are not graduates of the Starfleet Academy. Once again, the
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creation of the RRF was an extremely unpolular decision in Starfleet, in fact
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RRF assignments were boycotted by three graduating Starfleet Academy classes
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in a row. As a result, the newly-formed RRF had to recruit people from
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outside. Rena and Amu come from an independent colony world where they
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attended a military school of the colony's small self-defence force.
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DWIGHT BEKELE
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In charge of the SWAT team on board the Resilient. Was a security chief on the
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USS Amiens before joining the RRF.
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Hair: Black
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Eye color: brown
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Age: 34
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Rank: Lt. Commander
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KIYOSHI MINEO
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Rena's co-pilot
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Hair: Black
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Eye color: Brown
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Age: 24
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Rank: Jr. Leutenant
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HANS MECKELEIN
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Ship's Chief Engineer
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Rank: Lt. Commander
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LUIS MESA |
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QUING SHAO | SWAT troopers
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ANDREAS FREY |
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-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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PELLE (lastname?)
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Information trader, sometimes mercenary. Owner of Kazhar, an extensively
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modified Bird of Prey (where did he get the money???)
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Hair: Blond
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Eye color: Grey
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Age: thirtyish (?)
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ARISIA
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Pelle's daughter
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Hair: Brown
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Eye color: Grey
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Are: 7-8
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=============================================================================
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=============================================================================
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1.
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The person on the screen is obviously a STA (Star Trek Alien - human-looking
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with a weird bump on a forehead). He is talking into an irregular-shaped thing
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that appears to be a highly stylized microphone. He is speaking in his native
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tongue with subtitles running across the bottom of the screen.
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Newscaster: It is now 36.67 hours (obviously the translation is being done by
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a computer) until the deadline set by the terrorists. At exactly 14.32 hours
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tomorrow (another computer adjustment to Federation Standard Time), unless
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their demands are met by that time, they will execute the first hostage who,
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as they made clear, will be the President's wife.
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So far the government has remained strangely silent with only mid-level
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officials handling the negotiations, although family members of the key
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government figures are among the hostages...
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(The camera sweeps away from the screen which is on the wall of a briefing
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room. Several people sitting at the table, most of them are not looking at the
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screen.)
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Amu (she is wearing boots which are definitely not uniform), speaking to no
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one in particular: Nothing new so far
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Janosz (the only properly dressed person in the room). Well, in our business
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no news is good news. (smiles)
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Vildan (she is wearing a field jacket): Hans, when are you going to fix the
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climate control? It is freezing in here.
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Hans: I can't, ma'am. Dwight is using all the available energy for the
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holodeck simulation of the hostage rescue operation.
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Vildan: Can we at least get some coffee?
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Hans: I am very sorry, ma'am, until Dwight is finished, all systems that are
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nonessential to the ship's operation at this point are shut down, including
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the self-repair circuits and the energy/matter converters.
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Amu: Captain?
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Vildan: Yes, Leutenant?
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Amu: Permission to get coffee?
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Vildan (puzzled): Hmm...granted.
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(Amu leaves. Vlidan's communicator pin beeps.)
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Vildan: Cevelek here.
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Voice: Captain, an incoming message from Gilchres 1.
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Vildan: Transfer it to here.
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Voice: Yes ma'am.
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(An alien belonging to the same race as the newscaster appears on the screen.
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He is dressed in a well-tailored suit, which is obviously an import from
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Earth. It is not difficult to see that he is stressed and has been going
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without sleep for some time.)
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Alien: I'm afraid I have some bad news, Captain Cevelek. It appears that some
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of the terrorists are cyborgs.
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Vildan: Are you absolutely sure about that, Mr. President?
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President Jhehal: Yes. As it is now, the terrorists have to switch off their
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jamming field when they comminicate with us. It is only for a millisecond, but
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we've been able to send in a quick scanning pulse every time they do so. After
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pooling the data from all the pulses made so far, our specialists are
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absolutely certain that there are at least three cyborgs in the building.
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Since none of the hostages have had inorganic implants, these cyborgs must be
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the terrorists.
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Vildan: What is your decision, Mr. President?
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President: It remains the same - the demands that they make are unacceptable.
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We have no other choice, but to proceed with the operation as planned.
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Vildan: We'll do our best, Mr. President. However, we'll need all the data on
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those cyborgs that you can provide.
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President: It is being transmitted as we speak. (suddenly looks even more
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tired) Remember, I'm counting on you, Captain Cevelek.
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(end of transmission)
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Vildan (grimaces): Cyborgs...(Taps her communicator pin) Cevelek to Bekele.
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Voice: Bekele here.
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Vildan: Dwight, get to the briefing room right away.
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(Another sector of the ship. The sign on the massive door reads: "Training
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Holodeck". The doors slide open and a person in an orc suit steps out, holding
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a phaser rifle in one hand. Takes off the helmet.)
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Dwight (into the holodeck, loudly): NOT FAST ENOUGH! Shoot BEFORE you hit the
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floor, that's what the auto-targeting systems are for...Mesa, when you go hand
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to hand, drop to the floor and slide-kick, don't punch, you've got servos in
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your suit, remember. If you feel like punching, go to a goddamn bar and start
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a fight...Shao...now that's what I call an improvement...wasted ONLY TWO
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hostages this time...magnificent! (stops short) All right, when I get back,
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we'll do it again. (faint noises of disapproval inside the holodeck) I said
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AGAI, Frey. What are you, tired? Let me tell you something, Frey: you ARE NOT
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tired. Now when we are finished with the hostage business, you'll be
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processing ammo requisitions. Then you'll know what TIRED really means.
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Anybody else who is TIRED? (silence) Be sure to let me know when I come back.
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(Dwight walks away)
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(Inside the holodeck: the program has been stopped and we can see nineteen
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people in orc suits sitting on the floor grid.)
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SWAT Team Member #1 (Shao): Fwooh, I was sure I'm gonna get the paperwork
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shit. Thanks, Andreas.
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SWAT Team Member #2 (Frey) gives him an evil look, but says nothing.
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(Cut to the turbolift. Dwight is leaning against the wall, still in his orc
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suit. The doors open and Amu steps in, carrying four coffee cups on a tray.)
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Amu: Hi, Dwight.
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Dwight: Hello. Hey, where did you get the coffee? All FP's (food processors)
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have been down since morning.
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Amu: Heh, heh (devilish smile).
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(Briefing room. Amu enters with coffee, followed by Dwight who has to come in
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sideways because of the bulky orc suit.)
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Vildan: Great timing, Leutenant. (takes a cup). I need this coffee. Dwight, we
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have just received a message from Gilchres 1. Looks like some of the
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terrorsits are cyborgs.
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Dwight: Just what I anticipated all along. After all, a large percentage of
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the population on Gilchres 2 has cyborg implants. Lots of work-related
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injuries.
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Janosz: The president has made it clear that he wishes to go on with the
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operation. Can we adjust our tactics?
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Dwight: Well, the trouble with cyborgs is that a phaser stun will not work -
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most of them have some shielding around the brain and other key parts. You
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have to use the full setting. however, when you hit soemthing with a full
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setting, lots of energy gets released. The place is really packed, from what
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I've heard. if a hostage nearby happens to have a heart condition...you get
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the picture. Plus, some cyborgs have hyper-liquid power cells.
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Amu: You hit them not hard enough, they just shrug it off and shoot back. You
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hit them too hard and they blow up. There were a couple of cases when cyborgs
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got hit by security autophasers in spaceports. Stun doesn't work, so the
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computer puts on a high setting and BOOM!
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Dwight: Exactly.
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Vildan: So we cannot use phaser rifles...Projectile weapons?
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Dwight: We don't have any on board. We could pull up the specs from the
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computer and replicate some, but we haven't had any training with such stuff
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for a long time. How much do we know about those cyborgs?
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Janosz: That's what we've got from their president (blueprints and other data
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appear on the screen.
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Amu: Lessee, hyper-liquid...yup, dispersion shielding...yup, thermal
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shielding...not really, reflex boosting...yup. Your typical BiOES-2
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(Biological Organism Enhancement System Mark 2) type, probably bought the
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design from the Ferengi. I am pretty sure they have some black market
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modifications as well - a built-in phaser or something.
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Dwight: Interesting...all their cyborgs are anthropomorphic and covered with
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synthskin. Practically impossible to distinguish between them and a normal
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Gilchresian without a scanner. And they've got a jamming field in there, too.
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Janosz: It's mostly cultural. From what I've heard, most Gilchresians regard
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molding of a living being and a machine highly unethical.
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Amu: Ha! Hypocrites! (after a pause) We-e-ell, what can you expect from a
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mineral exporter, anyway.
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Vildan: Speaking of you, Leutenant, where did you get the coffee?
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Hans (looking suspiciously at Amu's waist): Leutenant, where is your phaser?
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Amu: Oh, I dumped phaser energy into one of the food synthesizers.
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Hans: Leutenant, this is outrageous! "Dumping" of phaser energy into any
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system is absolutely forbidden, even in emergency situations.
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Dwight (in a solemn voice): It sure is. By the way, if I remember correctly,
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when you bypass the primary energy feed, there are no circuit breakers in the
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food synthesizer itself. How did you manage to get anything out?
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Amu (innocent voice): You see, coffee is not very complicated to synthesize
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and it took only about 20 seconds for four cups...Of course the machine got
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fried after that...
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Hans: Leutenant, are you aware of the fact that this is deliberate sabotage
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of vital on-board equipment?
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Dwight: "Vital Equipment" all right, hasn't been working since morning.
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Hans (annoyed): You, Lt. Commander Bekele, should be aware of the fact that
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several systems have been shut down to provide energy for your holodeck
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training routine.
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Dwight: Yes, and somehow the dining facilities are always the first on your
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cutting list. Why don't you shut off the containment field in the shuttle bay
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for a change?
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Hans: You have brought up this subject before, Lt. Commander. I must repeat
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myself, and the Starship Operations Code as well, that shutting of the
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containment field while travelling at speeds higher than Warp 3 is forbidden.
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Dwight: For one thing, the bay doors on this particular vessel are
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reinforeced. Besides that, I've yet to hear about shuttle bay doors on any
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ship flying off into space without a moment's notice.
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Hans: The regulations are not designed for each ship individually, Lt.
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Commander. Although I understand your concerns about inconveniences associated
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with the periodical systems shutdown, they are...
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(Vildan finishes her coffee.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Excuse me?
|
|
|
|
Hans/Dwight: Yes, ma'am.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: If you don't mind, gentlemen, we'll postpone the fifteenth or whatever
|
|
round of this entertaining discussion until the end of the operation. As for
|
|
you, Leutenant Sagie, read the Starhip Operations Code once again,
|
|
less you dump phaser energy into the main computer core next time.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Yes, ma'am.
|
|
|
|
(Vildan turns to Janosz and away from Amu. Amu seizes the opportunity and
|
|
sticks out her tongue at Hans. Janosz sees it but pretends not to notice.)
|
|
|
|
Hans: Leutenant! This is outrageous! How dare you!
|
|
|
|
Vildan (annoyed): I told her to read the manual. We've got a cyborg hostage
|
|
situation to tace care of, Lt. Commander Meckelein.
|
|
|
|
Hans: Leutenant Sagie's behavior is completely unacceptable by any standards.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Leutenant Sagie! Explain yourself!
|
|
|
|
Amu: Nothing, ma'am. I just licked my lips, the air is kind of dry in here and
|
|
Lt. Commander Meckelein has interpreted my actions.
|
|
|
|
Hans: This was a deliberate mockery of a superior officer. Commander Illy will
|
|
prove it.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: I am sorry, chief. I was not watching Lt. Sagie at that time and I
|
|
cannot comment on her behavior.
|
|
|
|
Hans: Very well, I shall file a formal complaint.
|
|
|
|
Vlidan: As you wish, Lt. Commander. Make sure you do it after the hostage
|
|
crisis is over, though. Understood?
|
|
|
|
Hans: Yes, ma'am.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: All right, let's get back to the assault plan. Dwight, any suggestions
|
|
as to which projectile weapon might be the best?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Not now. We'll make a computer model and cross-reference it with the
|
|
weapons database. Will take a couple of hours.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Very well. Everyone should report to me in seven hours. If no fresh,
|
|
original and previously uncopyrighted ideas grace my desk by that time, we
|
|
stick to the assault with phaser rifles. Understood?
|
|
|
|
(Everybody nods)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Dismissed.
|
|
|
|
(Dwight and Amu are walking side by side along one of the corridors.)
|
|
|
|
Amu: A-after the hostage crisis is over, sure. Seven hours. Ha! He'll just
|
|
finish checking all the commas in his report on me in seven hours. What a
|
|
loser!
|
|
|
|
Dwight (he is serious): Most of the Starfleet is like that, Amu.
|
|
|
|
Amu: What do you mean?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: You haven't seen much of Starfleet. Resilient is your first assignment
|
|
and it is by no means a typical Federation starship. For one thing, Vildan is
|
|
pretty mellow when it comes to protocol. Where else can you get away with
|
|
sticking out a tongue at the ship's Chief Engineer.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Yeah, I guess I overdid it. But he is such a pain, really.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: It's just his way of expressing himself. Marks him as a protocol rat
|
|
the moment he opens his mouth. Most Starfleet officers are more subtle - all
|
|
friendliness and jokes on the outside, but the moment you forget where you are
|
|
and don't salute properly, you're toast.
|
|
(after a pause)
|
|
You won't be serving on the same ship forever. Sooner or later you'll get
|
|
transferred. If you don't learn what Starfleet considers to be proper
|
|
behavior, you'll soon find yourself in trouble. Especially with your
|
|
background.
|
|
|
|
Amu: You mean that I am a colonial?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Precisely. Look at yourself - you are 22 and already a Leutenant. Your
|
|
peers are still in the Academy.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Well, wasn't it Starfleet in the first place who decided that I am fully
|
|
qualified for my position?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Some in Starfleet and a definite minority at that. The rest agreed to
|
|
defuse an embarrasing situation. But remember - you, colonials, are always a
|
|
thorn in their side. A good-looking thorn in your case, I must add.
|
|
|
|
Amu (with a smirk): Thanks. Guess it's for us, thorns, to do the job the roses
|
|
in the Academy won't take.
|
|
(after a pause)
|
|
What's the scoop with the Academy, anyway. Tell me more about it.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: You mean the RRF boycott?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Yes. I haven't been able to get any info about it. Almost no Starfleet
|
|
records, at least among those available to me with my clearance. The media is
|
|
full of meaningless speculations, as usual.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Well, as you probably know, it started four years ago when the Student
|
|
Board decided that the creation of the RRF was incompatible with the
|
|
principles of the Federation. The overwhelming majority of the cadets
|
|
supported the decision and the boycott of the RRF assignments started. Riedel,
|
|
however, shrugged them off, went over the heads of his superiors - not that
|
|
there are many, mind you - and obtained the permission to hire "qualified
|
|
outside personnel" directly from the Federation Supreme Court, citing some
|
|
ancient regulation from the early days of Starfleet.
|
|
|
|
Amu (wide-eyed): Holy s**t! Directly to the Supreme Court! And they gave him
|
|
the approval, too. By how many votes, I wonder?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: That was a closed session...Anyway, the rest of the Starfleet was mad
|
|
as hell, but couldn't do anything. The Academy boycott lasted for three years,
|
|
but once the old members left the Student Board, the new ones were reasonable
|
|
enough to stop it.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Quite reasonable. After all, the longer they boycott, the RRF, the more
|
|
of us, colonials, are hired, diluting their precious principles even further.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Don't get me wrong, Amu. The principles are important to the
|
|
Federation. It's just that they've been hardened into a dogma which hinders
|
|
anything new. Admiral Riedel is not against the principles, he is just using
|
|
them creatively.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Seems to me they were a dogma to start with. Say, how can one interpret
|
|
the Prime Directive creatively? You either follow it, or break it, like JTK
|
|
did...if you can get away with it, that is. Like JTK.
|
|
[Note: JTK - obviously James T. Kirk]
|
|
|
|
Dwight: There is more to the Prime Directive than meet the eye. True, it
|
|
sounds like a dogma and everybody interprets it as such. But it is as much a
|
|
self-preservation rule as it is a principle.
|
|
|
|
Amu: ??
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Ever heard of Vietnam?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Vietnam? The O'Neil staion in the Nutara sector?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: No, the country. Twentieth-century Earth.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Nope. They did not cover much of the Old World history in our schools.
|
|
What is it?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: It was a small country torn apart by civil war. The nastier bunch
|
|
seemed to be winning, so the United States - on of the two world powers at
|
|
that time - decided to interfere. This resulted in a long, protracted and
|
|
bloody conflict, upheaval back home and it finally culminated in a humiliating
|
|
withdrawal. If you are interested, you can look up some history files for
|
|
detail, there are plenty of them. (they enter the turbolift) Deck 6.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Deck 10. Ah, I get it. The Federation sacrifices local interest for the
|
|
sake of overall stability.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Exactly. The problem is to keep the proper balance between the two,
|
|
something that was understood in JTK's time and what the current Starfleet
|
|
leadership ignores. They are so deep in negotiating disputes between alien
|
|
races that they forget about the true purpose of diplomacy which is a show of
|
|
force. The Borg incident aside, Starfleet hasn't been seen in "action" for the
|
|
last seventy years. Not that there has been any - there were quite a lot of
|
|
"incidents", but the policy of the Federation is to keep everyting quiet. All
|
|
such incidents are classified and the general public knows nothing.
|
|
Admiral Riedel created the RRF not only to crack down on crime, but also to
|
|
show all potential adversaries that the Federation can be aggressive when it
|
|
wants to. Of course now everybody sees him as just another power-hungry
|
|
admiral, but he is not that kind of person at all. The irony is that he is
|
|
more true to the principles of the Federation - true principles - than they
|
|
are. He wants the Federation to evolve. Most are content with the status quo
|
|
that we have now.
|
|
|
|
Amu: From your words it looks like the Federation is having an identity crisis
|
|
and we are smack-dab in the middle of it.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: I wouldn't say in the middle. Somewhat involved, that's all.
|
|
|
|
Amu: (mock disappointment): That's just too bad. I love being in the middle of
|
|
things.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Oh, we will be...If the operation gets screwed up, that is.
|
|
|
|
(The turbolift stops)
|
|
|
|
Amu: Better get to work. See you later, Dwight.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: See you later. (steps out)
|
|
|
|
==============================================================================
|
|
From shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu Thu Jun 25 15:37:20 1992
|
|
Status: RO
|
|
Return-Path: <shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu>
|
|
Received: from CHEM.BU.EDU by depot.cis.ksu.edu SMTP (5.65a)
|
|
id AA03463; Thu, 25 Jun 92 15:37:15 -0500
|
|
Received: from BUCHMF.BU.EDU by chem.bu.edu (5.61+++/JLK-1.5)
|
|
id AA22313; Thu, 25 Jun 92 16:36:58 -0400
|
|
Received: by buchmf.bu.edu (5.61+++/Spike-2.1)
|
|
id AA12756; Thu, 25 Jun 92 16:37:19 -0400
|
|
Message-Id: <108260967611902EMU0000@buchmf>
|
|
From: shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu (shimkevi)
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: Grey Stars 2
|
|
Date: Thu Jun 25 16:37 EDT 1992
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
An alien city. Tall, white buildings under a bright blue sky with a shining
|
|
bright-orange ball of a sun overhead. The crowd in the streets is a mixture of
|
|
different races. It is not as warm as it seems from a first glance at the city
|
|
- most of the humans in the crowd are wearing coats or jackets.
|
|
Am alien with a diamond-shaped bump on a forehead (note: different race from
|
|
the alien in the beginning of the story), dressed in a short blue jacket and
|
|
brown pants is walking towards a huge transparent wall. The 3-d sign on the
|
|
wall says "Green Zone Hotel" in several languages. The alien is carrying a
|
|
small black suitcase. When he approaches the wall, a rectangular outline
|
|
appears under the hotel sign. The alien walks right through the wall which
|
|
gives way. (cut to the hotel lobby) We see the alien walking through the wall
|
|
towards us. He almost clears the wall when the outline flashes brightly and
|
|
then disappears. His left foot is now stuck in the wall. Suddenly stopped in
|
|
his tracks, the alien waves his hands frantically to regain balance. On of the
|
|
receptionists rushes from behind his desk with a contraption that looks like a
|
|
small vacuum cleaner.
|
|
|
|
Receptionist: A thousand apologies, sir. We've just installed this new system
|
|
and sometimes people get stuck. (raises his "vacuum cleaner". The wall around
|
|
the alien's leg starts to ripple slightly.) You can pull your foot out now,
|
|
sir.
|
|
|
|
Alien: From the speed of your reaction, I would guess that this happens pretty
|
|
often. Why don't you switch back to normal doors?
|
|
|
|
Receptionist: Not on this world, sir. Permeativity is the latest rage. If you
|
|
don't have permeable doors, you won't stay in business.
|
|
|
|
Alien: Yours is a strange world.
|
|
|
|
Receptionist: It sure is, sir. Can I help you with anything else?
|
|
|
|
Alien: I have an appointment here at two o'clock. Appointment number 47.
|
|
|
|
Receptionist: If you could just come to the lady over there, she'll give you
|
|
the directions.
|
|
|
|
(A lounge in the same hotel. A blond human male in his late twenties/early
|
|
thirties is sitting in an armchair, holding a portable viewer in his hand. He
|
|
is wearing a loose olive-colored suit. A klingon female, dressed in what is
|
|
best desribed as a cross between a business suit and a suit of armor
|
|
approaches him.)
|
|
|
|
Woman: Don't keep your appointment waiting, Pelle. (gives him a crooked smile)
|
|
|
|
Pelle: That mystery person of yours, Vernath? Showed up on time, hasn't he.
|
|
|
|
Vernath: He's already in the room. Take a look. (takes a viewer out of the
|
|
pocket and gives it to Pelle)
|
|
|
|
Pelle (he looks funny with a viewer in each hand): Just great. The only thing
|
|
absent in my life this morning is an appointment with a Lardonian.
|
|
|
|
Vernath: This one looks promising, though. (another crooked smile)
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Don't get too excited about the whole thing.
|
|
|
|
Vernath: Why not? Come on, Pelle, let's not keep our client waiting.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Jeez, Vernath. You actually enjoy plotting, don't you.
|
|
|
|
Vernath (laughs): That's our evil Klingon nature, don't you know.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Is the room prepared?
|
|
|
|
Vernath: Of course. As if you haven't checked it yourself ten minutes ago.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Just to make sure. Knowing you, Vernath.
|
|
|
|
Vernath (annoyed): Just what is that supposed to mean?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Er, sorry. That was supposed to be a compliment.
|
|
|
|
Vernath: <...>
|
|
|
|
(Pelle stands up and leaves. Vernath taps a jewelled pin on her collar and
|
|
says something in an alien language [not Klingon].
|
|
Cut to Pelle walking along a corridor. He stops at one of the doors which
|
|
slides open after a couple of seconds. One can notice the unusual thickness of
|
|
the walls. The room has windows but the curtains are down. A simple table and
|
|
two chairs are the only furniture. One of the chairs is occupied by the alien
|
|
who got stuck in the door.)
|
|
|
|
Pelle (pulls the chair away from the table and sits down, facing the alien):
|
|
Good afternoon.
|
|
|
|
Alien (stares at him): Are you Pelle?
|
|
|
|
Pelle (somewhat annoyed by the stare): No, I'm a Venusian slime mold.
|
|
|
|
Alien: This is not the appropriate time for jokes.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: All right, all right. You're my prospective employer after all. I am
|
|
Pelle.
|
|
|
|
Alien (not noticing the irony in Pelle's voice): You can call me Daruma. My
|
|
real name is not important.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: I understand. Some of the names that our parents give us are real
|
|
bummers.
|
|
|
|
Daruma (smiles a forced smile): I heard that you like to make jokes.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Not really. I'm just not as gloomy as other people in the business. I
|
|
just stand out, that's it. If I were to try being a stand-up comedian, I
|
|
wouldn't stand a chance.
|
|
|
|
Daruma: We don't want you for your comedy talents.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (bored): Guess not. Nobody seems to like my jokes. All right, what is
|
|
that you want me to do?
|
|
|
|
Daruma: We want someone in Starfleet to be killed.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: I don't usually do assassinations. You and your organization, whatever
|
|
it might be, ought to know that.
|
|
|
|
Daruma: Yet we know that you are good at everything you do. Maybe besides
|
|
making jokes.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Who exactly in Starfleet?
|
|
|
|
Daruma: His name is Captain Picard.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (looks quizzically at Daruma): Captain Picard? He is a well-known
|
|
person.
|
|
|
|
Daruma (his emotions surface for an instant): Too well known for his own good.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (takes a deep breath): Kinda stuffy in here. The climate control needs
|
|
adjustment.
|
|
|
|
Daruma: Excuse me?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: oh, nothing.
|
|
|
|
Daruma: Do you agree?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: I said, he is a well-known person.
|
|
|
|
Daruma: We'll pay you well.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (another quizzical look): Just how well?
|
|
|
|
(Daruma takes his suitcase and opens it. Inside, there is a small grey box.
|
|
Daruma taps on the cover which becomes transparent. Inside there are several
|
|
fairly large crystals.)
|
|
|
|
Daruma: Dilithium crystals. Current market price is 500,000.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (takes a small tricorder from the jacket pocket and scans the box):
|
|
Looks real enough.
|
|
|
|
Daruma: Do you accept the offer?
|
|
|
|
Pelle (takes a deep breath, looks at the ceiling and breathes out): How 'bout
|
|
this: you take your money, buy your buddies from the Ladonian Liberation
|
|
Alliance some cookies at the nearest coffee shop and make this planet free of
|
|
your presence in 12 hours.
|
|
|
|
Daruma (in disbelief): What?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Actually, make it 6 hours, or I'll keep the crystals. I could use some
|
|
pocket change, y'know.
|
|
|
|
Daruma (draws out a phaser): You are quite stupid, Pelle. You must realize
|
|
that I cannot let you out of this room alive.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Whoa, you are holding it the right way. Congratulations. Must be quite
|
|
an accomplishment for a Lardonian.
|
|
|
|
Daruma: I was right about you. You are just a clown.
|
|
|
|
(Closeup of Daruma's hand. His index finger is straight and definitely not in
|
|
the proximity of a triger.)
|
|
|
|
Daruma: What the...?
|
|
|
|
Pelle (looks at Daruma in the same way a scientist looks at a rat): Works well
|
|
so far.
|
|
|
|
Daruma: I - I can't move.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Of course you can't. This is a small invention of mine...Not entirely
|
|
mine, mind you - I was using other people's research in the process, but the
|
|
end result is quite unique...What incapacitates you now is a nanite-like
|
|
artificial parasite which I designed a year ago...Never had a chance to use it
|
|
before, I must admit.
|
|
(stands up and starts walking around the table)
|
|
These micro-parasites were spread on the table surface before you came here -
|
|
you didn't notice that I never touched it with my hands. The parasites
|
|
penetrated through the skin on your palms and into the bloodstream. That was
|
|
easy enough to design, nothing new, really, nature has been using this method
|
|
for millenia.
|
|
|
|
(Daruma looks at him with fear and hartred)
|
|
|
|
Daruma: You planned this from the start!
|
|
|
|
Pelle (ignores him): Now the interesting part: the surfaces of these parasites
|
|
were coated with a protein that has an affinity towards the cell membranes of
|
|
the glial cells that cover the nerves...Of course there is a problem that the
|
|
all might stick to one nerve and we don't want that, do we...well, I don't,
|
|
you do, of course...that's why there is a proximity detector in each of them -
|
|
the binding properties are temporarily suppressed when one of them is near an
|
|
already bound nanite. After five-ten minutes your nervous system is seeded
|
|
with these computer-controlled parasites...Now, when you presented me with
|
|
that loony proposition of yours, I said a keyword - "climate control". A
|
|
nanite attached to an auditory nerve has read the signal that the key word
|
|
generated and released a chemical messenger into the bloodstream. This
|
|
messenger activated the nanites attached to the nerves in your hand, telling
|
|
them to block a specific signal from the brain - a signal that tells the index
|
|
finger to squeeze the trigger.
|
|
|
|
(takes a keychain from his pocket and spins the keys around his finger)
|
|
|
|
Pelle: You must have realized that this signal word is quite unnecessary. A
|
|
touch of designer's vanity on my part, perhaps. If I ever decide to sell this
|
|
thing, it would be just with the remote control, like the one I'm holding now
|
|
in my hand. (takes out his mini-tricorder) Or I might list the voice control
|
|
as an option and charge extra for it, I'm not sure...Together with the nanites
|
|
in your body this tricorder works as a CNS emulator, which results in your
|
|
body accepting my voice commands and not the ones from your brain.
|
|
(puts the keychain back into his pocket)
|
|
Anyway, Mr. Daruma, talking to you has been extremely enjoyable, but I'm
|
|
afraid I can't do this all day. (turns away from Daruma and looks at the
|
|
window curtains) Therefore, I would be much obliged if you could turn this
|
|
phaser around and pull the trigger...
|
|
|
|
(Daruma's hand turns the phaser around until it is pointing directly at his
|
|
chest. We can see sweat on his forehead.
|
|
A closeup of Daruma's index finger pressing the trigger.
|
|
A dull clunk of the phaser dropping to the floor.
|
|
|
|
Pelle turns around, comes to the table, puts on a glove and picks up the
|
|
phaser. He sets it on low-power, high-dispersion and moves the resulting broad
|
|
beam across the table and the suitcase. He then throws the phaser away, takes
|
|
off the glove, opens the suitcase, takes the box with the dilithium crystals
|
|
and puts it into his pocket.
|
|
|
|
The door opens. Vernath comes in.)
|
|
|
|
Vernath: Hey, you greedy human. Don't forget my share.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: One day those schemes of yours will get you killed.
|
|
|
|
Vernath (winces): Another of your hypocrisy fits?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Where do you see hypocrisy?
|
|
|
|
Vernath: For one thing, you were the one taking risks.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: True, but I'm not doing this on a regular basis.
|
|
|
|
Vernath: Doesn't matter. Death is where you find it.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Oh yes, the Klingon fatalism. A good way to avoid unnecessary stress, I
|
|
must admit.
|
|
|
|
Vernath: Could we discuss the respective philosophies of our races some time
|
|
later? Say, after I get the crystals.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Crystals? What crystals? they were decomposed by a phaser blast, as
|
|
your report says.
|
|
|
|
Vernat: You know something? This Lardonian was pathetic, but he was right
|
|
about one thing, though...you are not funny.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (with resignation): All right, here they are. (hands the box over to
|
|
Vernath)
|
|
|
|
Vernath: Great! Too bad we have to share it with the spaceport security.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: What about the other two Lardonians?
|
|
|
|
Vernath: We tried to arrest them twenty minutes ago. Unfortunately, they
|
|
resisted arrest and were mortally wounded in the resulting shootout.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: And this guy here? (points over his shoulder to the chair where Daruma
|
|
was sitting)
|
|
|
|
Vernath: As we decided earlier. He presented you with a ridiculous
|
|
proposition. When, understandably, you refused, he tried to kill you.
|
|
Fortunately, you had a concealed phaser with a neural link, which you used to
|
|
protect yourself... Not that you don't have one, in those padded shoulders of
|
|
yours.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: I just love the law enforcement here!
|
|
|
|
Vernath (annoyed): I see nothing wrong in what I did. Only a falzh would
|
|
surrender the spoils of war. Or law enforcement, in my case.
|
|
[Note: "falzh" - literally translated as "subdued warrior"]
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Come on, Vernath. It was not about morality at all. Just a humorous
|
|
conmment.
|
|
|
|
Vernath: Yet humor is a reflection of reality and in reality humans are
|
|
hypocrites who hate to confront their own selfishness. Thus your comment.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Is this Klingon psychoanalysis? Stereotypes, stereotypes.
|
|
|
|
Vernath (gives him a side look): You, humans, are too frail for Klingon
|
|
psychoanalysis.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Then it's just stereotypes.
|
|
|
|
Vernath: These are my observations.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Maybe you should observe more.
|
|
|
|
Vernath: Sure. I'm going to drop everything and devote my life to observing
|
|
human behavior patterns.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: If you had time to observe, you would have noticed a lot.
|
|
|
|
Vernath: Like what?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Just think about it. (points at Daruma's chair) This sort of thing
|
|
would have been unthinkable even thirty years ago. Some third-rate provincial
|
|
terrorist plotting to assassinate a key Starfleet figure? (after a pause)
|
|
Somewhat ironic, isn't it? Even as the Federation is growing in size and
|
|
power, it is losing respect.
|
|
|
|
Vernath: The better for us. When people do not believe that the Federation
|
|
will protect them, they come to us.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Or our competitors...Well, I have to go now...
|
|
|
|
Vernath: When are you leaving?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Tonight. They should finish the work about ten. I'll run the
|
|
diagnostics - should take about thirty minutes - and then take off.
|
|
|
|
Vernath: I'll have the money transferred to your account as usual. Good luck
|
|
in whatever you are looking for this time.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Nothing in particular, just some loose ends...Good luck to you, too.
|
|
|
|
Pelle/Vernath: See you.
|
|
|
|
(Pelle leaves. Vernath sits down on a chair, takes one crystal out of the box
|
|
and tosses it into the air like we usually would toss a coin.)
|
|
|
|
-------------
|
|
|
|
(Inside a spaceport. Somewhat similar to a modern-day airport, but more
|
|
sophisticated (obviously). Everything looks shiny, new, expensive and somewhat
|
|
tasteless - twenty-fourth century baroque. A counter with a huge holographic
|
|
sign above it in the air says "Luxion Spacelink - Customer Service". A young
|
|
girl in a white and gold uniform is standing behind the counter, the wall
|
|
behind her back a huge 3-d screen which is showing short flashes of various
|
|
places where you can get by Spacelink. Two people are standing near the
|
|
counter.)
|
|
|
|
Girl: I am truly sorry, sir, but the engine parts won't be here until
|
|
Wednesday. This kind of a malfunction is extremely rare, basically unheard of
|
|
and we just don't have the right part in stock here on Rocinante.
|
|
|
|
Wesley Crusher (yes, it's him): And there is no othe company that flies to
|
|
Starbase 37?
|
|
|
|
Girl: No, sir.
|
|
|
|
(Wesley mutters something)
|
|
|
|
Wesley's companion: Wes, what's the problem? They are gonna pay for the hotel
|
|
and give us a 50% refund. Why not stay here till Wednesday? This is Rocinante
|
|
after all, not some starbase.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: I told Captain Picard that I'm going to be there on the eleventh.
|
|
|
|
Mike: So what? We can't have a better excuse. Come on, when will you ever have
|
|
another opportunity to come here?
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Picard is not gonna like it and nobody will believe our story about
|
|
the engine failure. They'll think that we've stayed here on our own.
|
|
|
|
Mike: We can get a confirmation from Luxion if it comes to that.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Mike, I just have to be there on the eleventh. You can stay here, it
|
|
is fine with me. You don't have to come.
|
|
|
|
Mike: No way. If you go, I can't stay and you know that.
|
|
|
|
Girl: Excuse me.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Oh, er, sorry.
|
|
|
|
Girl: There are no flights, as I said, but I can try something else.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Could you, please?
|
|
|
|
Girl: There might be a freighter or a private ship of some kind going to
|
|
Antanarivu, a planet in the same star system as Starbase 37.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: That would be great.
|
|
|
|
Mike (to himself): No, it wouldn't.
|
|
|
|
Girl: Let me remind you that if you use a non-registered flight, you are not
|
|
eliegible for the 50% refund on your ticket.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: That's OK.
|
|
|
|
Mike (sourly): Just great!
|
|
|
|
Girl (puts her hand on a grey panel on her desk. Since there are no visible
|
|
keys, the panel must be a neural interface of some kind.): Hello, is Changting
|
|
here? Hi, this is Dora. Oh, nothing much. Listen, one of our flights got
|
|
cancelled...Do you know of anybody going to Antanarivu today? Oh, really!
|
|
When?...Will they take passengers?...Two, both human, they are actually going
|
|
to S-b 37...I see...Yeah, sure. (to Wesley) There is a small ship leaving for
|
|
Antanarivu around ten-thirty. A friend of mine is going to find out if they
|
|
take passengers.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Thank you very much.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Wes, you can't be serious about going on a freighter. Come on, let's
|
|
stay.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Sorry, Mike, I just can't.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Is it really about Captain Picard? Or is it about that girl on the
|
|
Enterprise? She's gonna be mad if you stay here on Rocinante, right?
|
|
|
|
Wesley: What are you talking about? Robin is not that kind of person at all.
|
|
Besides, we are just friends.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Yeah, yeah, sure.
|
|
|
|
[Note: Robin is Robin Lefler from "The Game". In her Starfleet Academy years
|
|
was one of the initiators of the RRF boycott.]
|
|
|
|
Girl (puts her hand on the panel again): Yes, Ching...They will?...OK, I'll be
|
|
sending them over...All right, see you later...Bye. (to Wesley) She said
|
|
you'll have to talk to the captain of the ship.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Thank you very much. Where is it?
|
|
|
|
Girl: It's in zone fifteen, hangar 182. I'll load the directions into
|
|
your pocketbook.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Thanks a lot. (gives her his pocket book)
|
|
|
|
Girl (takes the pocketbook and passes it over a blinking light): The
|
|
directions are in your pocketbook now. Voice and visual. (to herself: Shimada
|
|
66? This stuff is old! Gives Wesley his pocketbook and also a thin pad with a
|
|
stylus) Could you sign this disclaimer form, please?
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Disclaimer form?
|
|
|
|
Girl: Yes, that you don't want the hotel and are changing to a non-registered
|
|
carrier.
|
|
|
|
(Wesley takes the pad, examines it for 20-25 seconds and signs his name.)
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Thank you very much. (opens the pocket book and starts walking away,
|
|
holding it in his right hand)
|
|
|
|
(Mike starts to pick up his bag.)
|
|
|
|
Girl: Are you sure you don't want to stay? In such a hurry to get to this
|
|
Antanarivu place?
|
|
|
|
Mike: Ahh, he is hopeless. I would love to, though. (picks up his bag and
|
|
walks away)
|
|
|
|
Girl (taps one of her earrings): Calling Jennifer Baer, scrambled...Hi,
|
|
Jen...listen, we've got two who are taking a non-registered carrier...Yeah,
|
|
we've had a cancellation...Can you convert the hotel stay into cash?...Great,
|
|
I'll do the paperwork...Great, we'll blow it together. Is your boyfriend in
|
|
town?...Where do you wanna go?...Sounds great...Allright, I'll meet you in the
|
|
cafeteria at 5...Bye.
|
|
|
|
---------------------------
|
|
|
|
An open field that stretches as far as the eye can see. Huge hangars here and
|
|
there, arranged in an irregular fashion. An immense holographic projection of
|
|
a beer bottle to the left. several large cargo shuttles and a couple of sporty
|
|
warp sleds stand in the parking lot to the right. The parking lot is marked by
|
|
luminous lights. An antigrav truck glides by.
|
|
An automated taxicab stops near one of the hangars. Wesley and Mike climb out
|
|
with their bags. Wesley is still holding his pocketbook in one hand.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Jeez, this spaceport is HUGE.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: This should be the place.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Nobody's here.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Perhaps they are in the hangar.
|
|
|
|
Mike: I wonder what kind of a ship this is. The hangar is really big.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: It is probably for a cargo shuttlecraft. I'm pretty sure the actual
|
|
ship is in orbit.
|
|
|
|
Mike (points at the door in the hangar wall): Shall we knock?
|
|
|
|
Wesley: I guess so. (walks to the door and examines it, then puts his hand on
|
|
a pad to the right of the door) Nope, doesn't open. No buzzer, either.
|
|
|
|
Mike (knocks on the door): Anybody here?
|
|
|
|
(The door opens and Pelle steps out. He is dressed in a standard issue
|
|
Starfleet field jacket, jeans and boots with force plates.)
|
|
|
|
Pelle (looks them over): You are the ones going to Starbase 37?
|
|
|
|
Wesley (pulls up a smile): Trying to get there. Could you give us a lift?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Starfleet cadets, aren't you. What year?
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Fourth year.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Third year.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: So you've had some practical experience with warp drive, eh?
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Oh, I've had plenty. Even before the academy.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: How 'bout a deal? I give you a lift to Antanarivu, you calibrate the
|
|
warp coils on my ship.
|
|
|
|
(A look of puzzlement on Wesley's face.)
|
|
|
|
Wesley: But I thought that you were leaving tonight.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: That's right.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: But how can you calibrate the warp coils while in flight?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: If the speed is below warp 7, it is no problem.
|
|
|
|
Wesley (still puzzled): OK, we'll do it.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: OK. Got any baggage?
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Just our bags.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Fine, pick them up and get in. (disappears into the hangar)
|
|
|
|
(Wesley and Mike walk back to where they dropped their bags.)
|
|
|
|
Wesley: This is weird.
|
|
|
|
Mike: I told you we should have stayed. We don't even know the guy.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: He looks alright. I wonder what kind of a ship he's got, though.
|
|
|
|
Mike: What do you mean?
|
|
|
|
Wesley: You see, there are only four kinds of ships where you can calibrate
|
|
the warp coils when the warp drive is operational. Three of them are pretty
|
|
ancient types and the fourth...no, it can't be.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Oh, well, we'll find out soon enough.
|
|
|
|
(Wesley and Mike take their bags and return to the hangar. They both step
|
|
inside. Cut to the inside of the hangar.)
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Oh, SHIT!!!!
|
|
|
|
Mike: Oh, man!
|
|
|
|
(The hangar is dimly illuminated and it is hard to see, but the ship inside is
|
|
undoubtedly a Bird of Prey.)
|
|
|
|
Mike: This guy owns a Bird of Prey? No way!
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Oh, no.
|
|
|
|
Mike: What's the problem?
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Not the BOP warp coils!!
|
|
|
|
Mike: What's wrong with them?
|
|
|
|
Wesley: The Klingons did not design this thing to be user-friendly. And the
|
|
warp engines, they are a nightmare when it comes to maintenance.
|
|
|
|
Mike (vindicated): Well, I don't know much about warp drive, anyway. I'm
|
|
pretty sure you can handle it with your background.
|
|
|
|
Pelle's voice from above: There is a ramp under the right wing. It's pretty
|
|
steep, so watch your step.
|
|
|
|
Mike: We're coming.
|
|
(Walks towards the ramp, Wesley is trailing him, terror in his eyes.)
|
|
|
|
(Cut to the inside of the BOP. Pelle is standing near the airlock door. Mike
|
|
and then Wesley climb in.)
|
|
|
|
Mike (shields his eyes): It's kinda bright in here.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Yeah, I had brighter lights installed. All right, let me show you the
|
|
room, cause we have to take off in ten minutes - the air traffic here is
|
|
pretty thick. I had to book the clearance three days in advance.
|
|
|
|
(Pelle walks out of the airlock, followed by Mike and Wesley. The doors
|
|
close. Cut to Pelle, Wesley and Mike standing outside a door in the corridor.)
|
|
|
|
Pelle: OK. here is the room. You can get the bedsheets and other stuff from
|
|
the locker under the bed. I'll be on the bridge, you can join me if you want.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Just a curiosity question, but where is the crew?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: There is no crew. Kazhar is entirely automatic. (leaves)
|
|
|
|
Mike: This whole thing is weird. I think I remember the guy, though.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: From where?
|
|
|
|
Mike: er...er...Yes! Last year's Warp and Impulse magazine! They had a report
|
|
on privately owned Birds of Prey and there was a picture of him and his ship.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Oh, I see. Another playboy.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Wes, there might be bugs in this room. Just keep quiet, willya.
|
|
|
|
(Cut to the bridge, which is brightly illuminated. Pelle is sitting in the
|
|
captain's chair, which has huge control panels attached to both armrests.)
|
|
|
|
Computer voice: Information. We are cleared for takeoff. Activating the hangar
|
|
roof now.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Hey, Unit. we've just got ourselves a free coil job.
|
|
|
|
Unit (the computer): That would mean a savings of 10,000.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Exactly. Just monitor them to make sure they do not screw anything up.
|
|
|
|
(Cut to the outside of the ship. The hangar roof starts to shimmer. The BOP
|
|
rises and goes through the roof in almost total silence.)
|
|
|
|
Wesley and Mike appear on the bridge.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Want to see the takeoff? Unit, visual.
|
|
|
|
(We see first the inside of the hangar, then a thin horizontal line moves
|
|
across the screen and then there is a rapidly receding view of the field
|
|
below with brightly illuminated spaceport buidings and the multitude of lights
|
|
- the megalopolis that surrounds the spaceport.)
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Why is everything so quiet?
|
|
|
|
Pelle (glad at the opportunity to boast): I've had reactionless thrusters
|
|
installed instead of the regular impulse engines.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Oh, wow.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Saves space. Besides, they are more efficient and more reliable. Wonder
|
|
why Starfleet is not using them. The Klingons are putting them on the newer
|
|
Birds of Prey standard.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: There are some shortcomings, though.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (not inclined to argue): Everything has shortcomings.
|
|
|
|
Unit: A message from Flight Control. They need a voice confirmation from the
|
|
captain.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (in a bored voice): This is Kazhar, registry number PCC-3698, clearance
|
|
number, what is it?
|
|
|
|
Unit: 98R45
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Clearance number 98R45.
|
|
|
|
Voice: You are cleared for orbit. A reminder that energy transfer to any
|
|
weapons systems is illegal in Rocinante space. Have a safe trip. Flight
|
|
Control out.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Unit, once we are in orbit, set a course for Antanarivu. Warp 5.
|
|
(To Wesley) Get something to eat - there is a food synthesizer in the hall
|
|
outside your room - and let's take a look at the warp drive. No hurry, though,
|
|
take your time. I'll be in Engineering anyway.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: OK, sure.
|
|
|
|
_______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Path: moe.ksu.ksu.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!cis.ohio-state.edu!pacific.mps.ohio-state.edu!linac!att!bu.edu!buchmf.bu.edu!shimkevi
|
|
From: shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu (Sergey Shimkevich)
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
|
|
Subject: Grey Stars 3
|
|
Message-ID: <89303@bu.edu>
|
|
Date: 22 Jun 92 19:12:55 GMT
|
|
Sender: news@bu.edu
|
|
Organization: Boston University Chemistry Department
|
|
Lines: 462
|
|
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
3.
|
|
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
A shot of the U.S.S. Resilient moving at warp speed.
|
|
Cut to someone's private quarters (quite small as compared to the Enterprise).
|
|
There are two beds at the opposite walls, a built-in dresser facing the door
|
|
with a large holographic screen [note: it can be set to the reflection mode
|
|
and used as a mirror]. Right now the screen is showing the stars
|
|
outside the ship. A desk next to each of the beds.
|
|
A girl in a T-shirt and bikini pants is lying on one of the beds, eating
|
|
something that looks like a candy bar. There are some 3-d pictures on the wall
|
|
above her bed - the girl with a couple that look like her parents, the girl
|
|
and her father, both wearing unfamiliar uniforms, the girl and Amu, both in
|
|
the same uniforms, the girl and Amu in civilian clothes. A large sheathed
|
|
sword is hanging on the wall above the pictures.
|
|
|
|
(The door slides open and Amu comes in)
|
|
|
|
Amu: Hi there.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Hey. What's new?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Don't you know? More trouble.
|
|
|
|
Rena: How come?
|
|
|
|
Amu: We've got new info from Gilchres. Looks like the terrorists are cyborgs,
|
|
after all.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Yuck! That's bad.
|
|
|
|
Amu: So Vildan wants a new weapon - in a couple of hours.
|
|
|
|
Rena: No way! That's impossible!
|
|
|
|
Amu: Tell me about that. But we have to come up with something. Those guys are
|
|
hyper-liquid powered - we cannot just come in shooting phasers.
|
|
|
|
Rena: I wish I could help you...I just don't know anything about hand weapons.
|
|
(after a pause) Had anything to eat?
|
|
|
|
Amu: No, not really. This was one hell of a morning.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Want some? (pulls another "candy bar" out of a plastic bag on her bed)
|
|
|
|
Amu: Where'd you get that?
|
|
|
|
Rena: It's the emergency ration from the dropship. Comes in pretty handy when
|
|
the Rat shuts down the FP's. (FP - food processor)
|
|
|
|
Amu: Just make sure he doesn't find out. I had a run-in with him at the staff
|
|
meeting.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Not again! He probably hates your guts by now...
|
|
|
|
Amu: You bet he is. He's gonna file a formal complaint.
|
|
|
|
Rena: What did you do this time?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Something really stupid. Dumped my phaser into a FP to get coffee for the
|
|
staff meeting and fried it.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Whoa, he must have been really mad.
|
|
|
|
Amu: He was. I really shouldn't have done that. It's just that something got
|
|
into me.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Don't worry about it too much. Vildan is on our side.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Yeah, she is. I wonder why.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Aw, come on. One of your moods again?
|
|
|
|
Amu: I'm so tired of all this crap. Every time we dock at a starbase, those
|
|
ensigns giving you side looks. And the officers, they are even worse, looking
|
|
you over as if you were some kind of a bug. I never knew it would be like that.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Who cares about some stupid starbase? Those ensigns are just jealous.
|
|
Most of the people on our ship are really nice and that's what counts.
|
|
Besides, we've got a job to do and we are doing it.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Sure, a job that nobody wanted us to do in the first place.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Just who is "nobody"? Some moldy Starfleet bureaucrat and his
|
|
ass-kissers from the Academy?...They hate me, fine. In fact, I want them to
|
|
hate me. I don't want to be liked by them...You're gonna eat or what?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Put it back. I don't want you to get into trouble.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Don't worry about that. What I do to the dropship is none of the Rat's
|
|
business - Dwight is in charge of all the SWAT stuff.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Thanks. (takes the "candy bar" and unwraps it)
|
|
|
|
Rena: No prob. The Rat is an emergency, anyway, so our actions are morally
|
|
justified.
|
|
(Amu manages a weak smile.)
|
|
|
|
Amu: Guess I have to start working on this weapon.
|
|
|
|
(Rena gets off the bed, walks up to the closet and takes out her flight jacket
|
|
and pants.)
|
|
|
|
Amu: Oh, sorry, I didn't mean it this way. You don't have to leave.
|
|
|
|
Rena: That's fine, I have to go to the hangar anyway.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Are you sure?
|
|
|
|
Rena (puts on her uniform and the boots): That's OK.
|
|
|
|
(Rena leaves. Amu sits down at the terminal on her desk.)
|
|
|
|
------------
|
|
|
|
Cut to the bridge, quite small as compared to the Enterprise-D or even the
|
|
original Enterprise. The captain's chair has large instrument panels attached
|
|
to both armrests. Janosz is working on something on his station, two ensigns
|
|
at the helm and navigation are just sitting there looking at their consoles.
|
|
The turbolift doors open and Vildan steps out. She is now wearing the RRF
|
|
uniform which resembles the one from the ST movies, but it is green with a
|
|
golden collar. (looks very impressive on her)
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Captain on the bridge. (He stands up. The ensign at the navigation also
|
|
stands up. [Note: the helmsman and the navigator are not required to])
|
|
|
|
Almost immediately Vildan's comminicator pin beeps.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Cevelek here.
|
|
|
|
Dwight's voice: Bekele here, captain. We've replicated some weapons. We have
|
|
to test them, though.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Go ahead.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: We need your permission to open the shuttle bay doors, Captain.
|
|
|
|
(Vildan and Janosz look puzzled... Since both of them are standing, the
|
|
ensign at the navigation station assumes that he is not supposed to sit down
|
|
and continues to stand.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Shuttle bay doors?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: These are projectile weapons, so we cannot test-fire them in the
|
|
holodeck. We're thinking of opening shuttle bay doors and using the
|
|
resulting opening for target practice.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Can't you simulate them in the holodeck?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Not enough data. All these weapons are pretty old, so the only thing
|
|
we have in the computer are the blueprints. No ballistic data whatsoever.
|
|
Can't make extrapolations here.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: What about the contaiment forcefield?
|
|
|
|
Dwight (coughs): Well, we were thinking about lowering the frequency and
|
|
decreasing the intensity. That would permit the bullets to clear the field but
|
|
will still keep the air in.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: M-m-m-m, allright...Do what you consider necessary.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Thank you, captain. I'll give you the test results as soon as we get
|
|
them.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: I better go and take a look at what they are actually up to. You have
|
|
the con, Mr. Illy. (to the ensign at the navigation who is still standing)
|
|
You, ensign, are to stand here until further notice. Understood?
|
|
|
|
Ensign (totally confused): Yes, ma'am!
|
|
|
|
(The ensign at the helm chuckles.)
|
|
|
|
(Vildan leaves. Janosz returns to his station without even paying attention to
|
|
the standing ensign.)
|
|
|
|
Ensign at the helm (turns around and says in a "compassionate" voice): You
|
|
better do as she said, man. She's ROUGH!
|
|
|
|
(Cut to Vildan in the turbolift. The doors open and Amu steps in. She is
|
|
carrying a rather mean-looking gun.)
|
|
|
|
Amu: Captain.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Leutenant.
|
|
|
|
(awkward silence)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: That's quite an interesting idea, leutenant.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Excuse me, ma'am?
|
|
|
|
(Vildan's communicator beeps.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Cevelek here.
|
|
|
|
Meckelein's voice: Captain! Did you authorize the procedure that Lt. Commander
|
|
Bekele is requesting?
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Yes, I did. And yes, it involves opening shuttle bay doors and
|
|
changing the containment field parameters.
|
|
|
|
Meckelein: Yes, Captain. I was just making sure that I that nothing
|
|
gets distorted by the chain of command. Sorry to disturb you, Captain.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Not at all, Lt. Commander. I appreciate your concern. Cevelek out. (to
|
|
Amu) What idea? The one about using the shuttle bay as a shooting range!
|
|
|
|
Amu: This is the first time I hear about it, Captain!
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Hmph, I was sure this was your suggestion...So that's what you've came
|
|
up with? Let me see.
|
|
|
|
(Amu hands the gun over to Vildan who examines it.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Aha, a modified AC-12 [Automatic Caseless]. Haven't seen one for a
|
|
long time.
|
|
|
|
Amu: You used one before?
|
|
|
|
Vildan: No, I've been shot with one.
|
|
|
|
(A bewildered look on Amu's face.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: I was about your age then. It was supposed to be a routine arrest,
|
|
then everything went awry and the shooting started. When I got hit, I didn't
|
|
understand what had happened - there are phaser shots all around, I'm
|
|
just sitting there, can't get up and my shirt is getting wet. So I am trying
|
|
to feel the place where the blood is coming out and thinking: I'm not
|
|
stunned 'cause I can move, I'm not vaped 'cause I am still here. So what
|
|
the hell is happening? Then I passed out and woke up in a hospital three days
|
|
later...Taught me never to underestimate any weapon, no matter how ancient.
|
|
|
|
Amu: You were in the police, Captain?
|
|
|
|
Vildan: On my homeworld. Three years.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Then...
|
|
|
|
(The turbolift stops. Vildan and Amu step out and start walking down the
|
|
corridor.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: How did I end up here? Headhunted, very much like you: the Starfleet
|
|
decided that there was a shortage of security personnel and established a
|
|
one-year accelerated program for people with law enforcement background. I
|
|
applied and (smile/shrug) got accepted.
|
|
(after a pause)
|
|
Of course there was much less controversy back then. Not that I didn't get my
|
|
share of side looks, mind you...People in Starfleet are usually very
|
|
protective of their organization. Can be very disheartening if you are an
|
|
outsider. One can understand them, though, they are the backbone of the
|
|
Federation, after all. So...hang in there, Leutenant. Things will get better
|
|
for you.
|
|
|
|
Amu (grateful): Thank you, Captain.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: And Leutenant, if I you ever stick out your tongue at somebody at a
|
|
staff meeting, you might as well say good-bye to it. I'll cut it off.
|
|
Personally. Understood?
|
|
|
|
Amu (snaps up): Yes, ma'am!
|
|
|
|
(Cut to the main shuttle bay. It is huge - now it is clear why the rest of the
|
|
ship is so cramped. Two levels, one level is basically an elevated platform
|
|
that covers approximately 1/3 of the total area. One large door on the first
|
|
level, two smaller doors on the second level. The assault craft is on the
|
|
second level, two shuttlecraft and several landing modules are on the first.
|
|
Various loading equipment on both levels, tractor beam emitters built into the
|
|
walls and the ceiling.
|
|
The large door on the first level is open, revealing the warp-distorted space
|
|
beyound. Several SWAT troopers in orc suits are shooting at the 3-d targets,
|
|
generated by a small holographic projector that is standing to the left of the
|
|
bay doors. Bright flashes every time the bullets clear the containment field.
|
|
The rest of the SWAT team are standing around the table on which there are all
|
|
kinds of guns, mostly arguing. Rena and some guy are on the second level,
|
|
doing something to the left engine of the assault craft. Dwight is at the bay
|
|
door, shooting a gun and checking a tricorder screen on his arm after each
|
|
shot.
|
|
|
|
Vildan and Amu come in unnoticed.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: You recognise the smell, Leutenant?
|
|
|
|
Amu (not sure): Is it the ozone from the forcefield?
|
|
|
|
Vildan: That and the pyroxine.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Pyroxine?
|
|
|
|
Vildan: A chemical used in projectile weapons. Very old stuff.
|
|
|
|
Amu: How do you know all those things, captain?
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Well, you come across a lot of things when you are in the police.
|
|
Contrary to what most people think, common street thugs don't use phasers that
|
|
much. A top of the line phaser with auto targeting and a neural link is very
|
|
expensive, especially when sold illegally. Also, there aren't that many of
|
|
them being manufactured, with all the weapons control laws that the Federation
|
|
has. Those that are for sale have an indentification code that is practicaly
|
|
unbreakable. No criminal in his right mind will want a weapon like that.
|
|
|
|
Amu: But one can buy a Romulan or a Klingon disruptor on the black market.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: It's not that easy as it seems. Romulan smuggling operations are
|
|
usually controlled by their intelligence ops, so they wouldn't sell
|
|
the weapons to anyone with the money so as not to blow their cover. Most of
|
|
the "romulan" stuff that is being sold on the side is actually made on
|
|
Rocinante and of rather poor quality. Besides, since we are the dominant race
|
|
in the Federation, yes, we are, it's just a fact, most of the criminals are
|
|
humans and they wouldn't deal with the Romulans. Warped patriotism, I guess.
|
|
As for the Klingon disruptors, they usually sell them on the frontier worlds
|
|
where the prices are higher. Some eventually trickle down, but not much.
|
|
Besides, Gavron has now cracked down on the smugglers so as not to strain the
|
|
relations with the Federation.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Guess it's easier to rewire a food synthesizer and make a gun.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Exactly. Cheap and impossible to trace.
|
|
|
|
(They now are at the table. The SWAT people finally notice them and salute.
|
|
Amu is trying her best to look very important.)
|
|
|
|
SWAT trooper (shouts): Dwight! The captain is here!
|
|
|
|
(Dwight stops shooting, turns around and walks up to the table.)
|
|
|
|
Dwight: We're down to three, Captain. Two standard cartridge-based guns, one
|
|
EM (electromagnetic). (points at the three guns lying in the middle of the
|
|
table)
|
|
|
|
Vildan (picks up one of them): This is pretty small for an EM.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: This one shoots darts instead of the regular slugs. Rather short
|
|
range, but we won't need more.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: What are the test results?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: They all work, more or less. Performance isn't the problem, really.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Then what is?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: These things work on the all-or-nothing principle - kill or
|
|
miss. That place is packed and they WILL be using the hostages as shields.
|
|
Frankly, I don't see how we are going to pull it off without some of the
|
|
hostages getting caught in the crossfire.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: What choice have we got? If we use phasers, we can lose everyone.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: The cyborgs could be wired for self-destruct from the beginning,
|
|
anyway .
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Could be. Could be not.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: A game of possibilities.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: So it is. We just play by the rules and count our
|
|
blessings...(examines the EM gun) This is an intreresting one. Can I?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Sure, Captain.
|
|
|
|
(Vildan comes up to the bay doors and starts shooting. Even though she hits
|
|
all the targets, her mind is clearly somewhere else.)
|
|
|
|
Dwight (to Amu): Hi, Amu. Got another one for us?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Yeah. Looks like I'm too late to make suggestions, though.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Let me see it. (takes the gun) Just curious, why this one?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Well, I just browsed over the specs and this one looked like it would be
|
|
the best against the type of armor that those cyborgs have.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: I'll test it, anyway. Say, why did you keep the laser sight?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Oh, I just told the computer to make it as it was, didn't change
|
|
anything.
|
|
|
|
(Dwight takes off the laser sight and walks over to the "shooting range". Amu
|
|
picks it up and looks it over. Suddenly a paper plane hits her shoulder.)
|
|
|
|
Rena's voice from the second level: YAHOO!!! GOTCHA!!!
|
|
|
|
(Amu picks up the plane and throws it back, but misses Rena by a wide margin.)
|
|
|
|
(Rena climbs down from the platform and walks up to Amu.)
|
|
|
|
Rena: Hi! What's up? What's that?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Hi. It's a laser sight from one of the guns.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Looks like a Mark 2 hand phaser without the handle.
|
|
|
|
Amu (she was not listening): Say what?
|
|
|
|
Rena: I said it looks like a mark 2 without the handle.
|
|
|
|
(Amu looks at Rena, then at the laser sight.)
|
|
|
|
Rena: Eh?
|
|
|
|
Amu: You know what? You've just given me an idea.
|
|
|
|
Rena (suspiciously): What kind of idea?
|
|
|
|
Amu: I'll tell you in a second. (runs off and out of the shuttle bay)
|
|
|
|
Rena: Weird woman!
|
|
|
|
(Cut to Amu in a small section of the ship that looks like a lab. She is
|
|
standing near something that looks like a food synthesizer, but more
|
|
complicated, and punching the controls furiously.)
|
|
|
|
Amu (pushes the panel for the last time): Done!
|
|
|
|
(Something materializes on the pad. Looks like a gun with a laser sight. but if
|
|
one is to look more carefully, it is obvious that the "laser sight" is
|
|
actually a phaser. Amu picks up the gun and runs away.)
|
|
|
|
(Back in the shuttle bay. Vildan puts down the gun and looks at the small
|
|
display on the handle.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Just as I thought - has to be calibrated every ten minutes. That's
|
|
what killed the EM handguns in the first place.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: It shouldn't take longer, Captain.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: That's true.
|
|
|
|
(Amu comes rushing in)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: What's the rush, Leutenant?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Another one?
|
|
|
|
Amu: You see, I put a phaser on top of this one, set on stun. If you could
|
|
take this (gives her pocketbook to Vildan, who is now standing with an EM gun
|
|
in one hand and Amu's pocketbook in another). You see, you fire the phaser
|
|
first, then it hits the guy..er, terrorist. If he is normal, he gets stunned.
|
|
If he is a cyborg, then the charge dissolves some of the sythskin, which gives
|
|
these spectral lines. The auto-targeting scanner right here (points at the
|
|
upper part of the gun that she is holding) recognises those lines and shoots a
|
|
dart.
|
|
|
|
Vildan (looks at Amu's gun and then at the pocketbook): Hmm, looks
|
|
reasonable...Dwight, what do you think?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Could work. We'll have to test-fire it here and then run a simulation
|
|
in the holodeck. If we have time, that is.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: You have five hours. After that I want the whole scenario completed
|
|
and ready to go.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Yes, ma'am.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: I'll be in my quarters. (leaves)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
From shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu Wed Jun 24 17:14:36 1992
|
|
Status: RO
|
|
X-VM-v5-Data: ([nil nil nil nil nil nil nil nil nil]
|
|
["24601" "" "" "" "" "" "" "shimkevi" "shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu " nil "762" "Grey Stars 4" "^From:" nil nil ""])
|
|
Return-Path: <shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu>
|
|
Received: from CHEM.BU.EDU by depot.cis.ksu.edu SMTP (5.65a)
|
|
id AA23265; Wed, 24 Jun 92 17:14:33 -0500
|
|
Received: from BUCHMF.BU.EDU by chem.bu.edu (5.61+++/JLK-1.5)
|
|
id AA19178; Wed, 24 Jun 92 18:14:23 -0400
|
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Received: by buchmf.bu.edu (5.61+++/Spike-2.1)
|
|
id AA07648; Wed, 24 Jun 92 18:14:46 -0400
|
|
Message-Id: <108240967662421EMU0000@buchmf>
|
|
From: shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu (shimkevi)
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: Grey Stars 4
|
|
Date: Wed Jun 24 18:14 EDT 1992
|
|
|
|
|
|
Bridge of the USS Resilient. Vildan is sitting in her chair, looking at the
|
|
dial on the right armrest. Janosz and Amu are working at their consoles. Amu
|
|
is casting quick glances at Vildan and Janosz now and then.
|
|
|
|
Vildan (takes a deep breath and looks up): It's about time.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Yes, Captain.
|
|
|
|
Computer voice: Attention all decks! The ship is now on yellow alert. All
|
|
personnel report to stations. Repeat, the ship is on yellow alert. All
|
|
personnel report to stations.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Cevelek to Bekele.
|
|
|
|
Dwight's voice: Bekele here.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Ready, Dwight?
|
|
|
|
Dwight's voice: We're all set to go, Captain.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Very well. I'll be down in a couple of minutes.
|
|
|
|
Dwight's voice: Yes, ma'am.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: I will be in the hangar bay. You have the con, Mr. Illy.
|
|
|
|
Janosz (looks up): Yes, Captain.
|
|
|
|
(Vildan leaves)
|
|
|
|
Cut to the hangar bay. Several people in engineering overalls are doing final
|
|
checks on the engines of the dropship which is now fully assembled with a
|
|
strange-looking module attached to the underside of the assault craft. SWAT
|
|
troopers are making final adjustments to their orc suits and weapons, assisted
|
|
by more Engineering people.
|
|
|
|
Rena and Kiyoshi are sitting on the left wing of the assault craft, both in
|
|
flight suits, their helmets beside them. Rena's helmet is heavily ornamented,
|
|
Kiyoshi's is plain white and blue with his name in large letters. Rena is
|
|
drinking coffee.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Say, Yoshi, are you nervous?
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Me? No, not really.
|
|
|
|
Rena: I am, a little bit. This whole thing is so sensitive.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Yeah...
|
|
|
|
Rena: I mean, everyone has been so worried lately. We seem like the only ones
|
|
who don't have to worry about anything.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Not this time, I guess. Just drop the SWAT guys off and wait.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Being a pilot is quite a manic-depressive job, don't you think?
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Manic-depressive?
|
|
|
|
Rena: Really, you do a drop, then you vegetate for a month.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: You think so?
|
|
|
|
Rena: But that's how it is, isn't it?
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: We have our training in between the drops.
|
|
|
|
Rena: I don't know, somehow I can never take the holodeck for
|
|
real. Guess that's because we didn't use those things on our world.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Is it for religious reasons? (to himself: Hmm, she never seemed
|
|
to like holodeck parties. No dates in the 'deck, either...)
|
|
|
|
Rena: Not really, they are not forbidden or anything. It is just that people
|
|
tend to treat them as illusions and nothing more. There were a couple of
|
|
holo-rooms in the city where I lived, and they weren't that expensive, either.
|
|
It is just that everybody would think of you as a loser if you go there too
|
|
often.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi (to himself): Aha, peer pressure. (to Rena) Well, they would think the
|
|
same here, if you do it by yourself. If you go with other people, it is fine.
|
|
|
|
Rena: But if you go out with other people, it is for the company, right?
|
|
Why need an illusion if you've got company?
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Why not?
|
|
|
|
Rena: I don't know. I just think that what you do for fun should be natural.
|
|
When it is for training and stuff, it is fine with me, but if I go out with
|
|
someone, I don't feel comfortable with an illusion around me.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: What if you were on a Galaxy-class starship? One of those five-year
|
|
missions?
|
|
|
|
Rena: Oh, I wouldn't be on a Galaxy. Not with my background.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi (embarrassed): I am sorry.
|
|
|
|
Rena: That's OK. (a sly look) Actually...how come YOU are here and not on a
|
|
Galaxy?
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Me? I'm not into politics. I was on the flying team in the Academy
|
|
and then I got assigned to Environmental Engineering, so I applied for a
|
|
transfer.
|
|
|
|
(One of the doors opens and Vildan comes in)
|
|
|
|
Rena (sees Vildan): Oh, Vildan is here. Let's get down.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi (to himself): How come she's always here and never on the bridge?
|
|
|
|
(Rena finishes her coffee in one gulp. She and Kiyoshi grab their helmets and
|
|
quickly climb down).
|
|
|
|
The SWAT troopers, Kiyoshi and Rena assemble in a semicircle near the
|
|
dropship. Dwight and Vildan approach them.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: We've put additional reactive armor plates on the orc suits.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: That would decrease the mobility, wouldn't it?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: We are more concerned with aiming than with moving. Besides, the whole
|
|
thing should be over in twenty seconds. Additional weight or not, doesn't
|
|
really matter.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: What about the gravity generators?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: We've ran the calculations, it's within the permissible loads.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Just how permissible?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: After we eject, we should use up about eighty percent of the suit's
|
|
power pack for descent. The remaining twenty percent should be enough for us
|
|
to move inside.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: That's rather small.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Working in those suits is always penny-pinching for energy. Especially
|
|
when you use a passive storage power unit.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: We should be getting the specs for the new model any time now. We'll
|
|
see how it fares.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: I wouldn't hold my breath for it, Captain.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Me neither.
|
|
|
|
(Both smile, rather sadly)
|
|
|
|
Dwight: All right, listen up!
|
|
|
|
(The team snaps to attention)
|
|
|
|
Vildan (paces): Don't worry, I'll be extremely short. You all know that this
|
|
is our ninth and most important mission. Our record so far has been
|
|
unblemished. It is my sincere hope that it stays this way. Understood.
|
|
|
|
(The team nods in agreement)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Good luck.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: All right, you heard the captain. Now move!
|
|
|
|
Rena and Kiyoshi put on their helmets and climb into the cockpit. Then a
|
|
strange thing happens - the module opens up, revealing multiple "loading
|
|
sites" that resemble missile silos. A trooper in an orc suit gets into the
|
|
"silo" which then closes. Dwight is the last one to get in. The module then
|
|
closes up.
|
|
|
|
Computer voice: All personnel clear the hangar bay. Repeat, all personnel
|
|
clear the hangar bay.
|
|
|
|
The engines of the dropship start emitting a low hum. The lights on the wings
|
|
and the belly start to flash. In the cockpit the large instrument panels come
|
|
to life.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Storm Flower to bridge. Packed and ready to go.
|
|
|
|
Janosz' voice: Bridge to Storm Flower. Entering orbit around Gilchres 1 in
|
|
five minutes, twenty seconds. Initiating countdown - now.
|
|
|
|
The main hangar bay doors open, revealing a shining planet outside.
|
|
|
|
Cut to the bridge. Vildan is back in her chair.
|
|
|
|
Navigator: Entering orbit, now.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Launch the dropship.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Launching the dropship, now.
|
|
|
|
(Show the dropship clearing the hangar bay doors)
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Bridge to Storm Flower, do you copy?
|
|
|
|
Rena's voice: Stormflower to bridge, loud and clear. Proceeding with
|
|
atmosphere entry.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Go ahead, Storm Flower. Bridge out.
|
|
|
|
(Inside the cockpit)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: I always wanted to ask, what is a storm flower?
|
|
|
|
Rena: Oh, it grows in the mountains on my planet. Blooms very early in the
|
|
spring.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: I see. It must be a symbol of strength among your people.
|
|
|
|
Rena (laughs): Not really. It smells really nice, that's all.
|
|
|
|
(Bridge. Amu's console gives out a series of loud beeps)
|
|
|
|
Amu: Captain! Two vessels approaching at intercept course.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: What?! (looks down at her console).
|
|
|
|
Amu (reads from her display): Transponder signal verification coming in
|
|
now...the first vessel is a long-range warp-capable shuttlecraft, identified
|
|
as Starlight Warrior 2, registry number CV-281063, the second is a
|
|
medium-range warp sled, identified as Raindrop, registry number
|
|
CV-281124.
|
|
|
|
Janosz (sour): StellarPeace...How on earth did they find out?
|
|
|
|
Vildan (curses under her breath): Hail them.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Hailing frequencies open.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: This is captain Vildan Cevelek of the Federation starship Resilient.
|
|
You have entered a restricted area. Reverse course immediately.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: They are responding.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Let's take a look (to Amu) What's the status of the dropship?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Should be entering the atmosphere in seven minutes.
|
|
|
|
(A human male in his early forties appears on the screen.)
|
|
|
|
Man: I am Hott Sorne of StellarPeace, presently in charge of the goodwill
|
|
mission to Gilchres.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Mr. Sorne, you must be well aware of the fact that the vessels under
|
|
your command have entered a restricted area. To avoid further complications I
|
|
suggest that you withdraw immediately.
|
|
|
|
Sorne: Starfleet having jurisdiction over Gilchresian space? This is news to
|
|
me. We have got our permit from the government two months ago which is still
|
|
valid. As such, we have the same right to be in this region of space as you
|
|
do.
|
|
|
|
Vildan (smiles): I have this feeling, Mr. Sorne, that your permission is now
|
|
being revoked as we speak.
|
|
|
|
Sorne: Oh, but not yet, Captain, not yet.
|
|
|
|
Vildan (to Janosz): Proceed with the operation as planned.
|
|
|
|
Sorne: I don't think so, Captain... We cannot just sit idle while
|
|
you assist the repressive Gilchresian government, which has been responsible
|
|
for countless sentient rights violations.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: I am afraid that you will have to do just that, Mr. Sorne.
|
|
|
|
Sorne: We shall see, Captain.
|
|
|
|
(transmission ends)
|
|
|
|
Amu: Captain! Both vessels accelerating rapidly and changing
|
|
course...Raindrop is now on a collision course with the dropship!
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Change course to intercept. Prepare the tractor beam.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Yes, ma'am. (to Rena) Bridge to Storm Flower, bogie on a collision
|
|
course, do you copy?
|
|
|
|
Rena's voice: Storm Flower to bridge, we copy. Evasive...now.
|
|
|
|
(A shot of Raindrop passing dangerously close to the dropship.)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: He's crazy!
|
|
|
|
(Rena is cursing in her native language.)
|
|
|
|
Voices of SWAT troopers on the intercom, all of "what the hell is going on"
|
|
kind. Only Dwight is silent (he has a link to subspace communications
|
|
between the dropship and the Resilient).
|
|
|
|
Bridge of the USS Resilient.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Cuff them as soon as we reach ETR (Effective Tractor (beam) Range).
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Yes, ma'am.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Captain! Starlight Warrior is on a collision course!
|
|
|
|
(The ship's computer executes an evasive maneuver which is not too gentle on
|
|
the bridge personnel.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan (holding on to her chair): How the hell did they get here without being
|
|
detected?
|
|
|
|
Amu (doing the same): Probably hiding in some hangars on Gilchres 2. (to
|
|
herself) Just how incompetent can their security get??
|
|
|
|
Vildan: How much time have we got?
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Seventeen minutes.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Continue on our present course. As soon as they make a second pass,
|
|
cuff them.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Yes, ma'am.
|
|
|
|
(View of the Starlight Warrior turning around for another pass.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Here they come.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Ready...got them, Captain.
|
|
|
|
(A view of the Starlight Warrior enveloped in a tractor beam from the USS
|
|
Resilient.)
|
|
|
|
Further away, the dropship continues to evade the Raindrop. The SWAT team is
|
|
heard cursing loudly in the intercom (Frey is heard the most).
|
|
|
|
(Another close pass.)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: They are really good. There's no way we can make a descent!
|
|
|
|
Rena (looks at the panel and gasps): Only fourteen minutes left! (loud) Storm
|
|
Flower to bridge. Permission to use weapons.
|
|
|
|
Janosz's voice: Permission denied! Decelerate and stop, we'll assist you
|
|
shortly.
|
|
|
|
Rena: It better be fast!!! Storm Flower out.
|
|
|
|
(On the bridge)
|
|
|
|
Amu: Captain! Starlight Warrior is trying to break out!
|
|
|
|
Vildan: There is no way they can (looks at her display) Ohhh!
|
|
|
|
Amu: They are changing thrust to make the ship oscillate. The structural
|
|
integrity of their hull is decreasing rapidly. Estimate collapse in two
|
|
minutes!
|
|
|
|
Vildan: And we'll get the blame, no doubt...Amu, try to disable their
|
|
computers, Mr. Illy, beam in a boarding probe.
|
|
|
|
Amu: It's no use. There is a jamming field around the ship.
|
|
|
|
Vildan (bites her lip in frustration): Release the tractor beam. Get me
|
|
President Jhehal.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Yes, ma'am. Releasing the tractor beam.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Status?
|
|
|
|
Amu: The StellarPeace ships have stopped. The Raindrop is covering the
|
|
dropship, the Starlight Warrior is still with us.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Incoming message from Gilchres 1.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Go ahead.
|
|
|
|
(President Jhehal appears on the screen.)
|
|
|
|
Jhehal: Don't worry, Captain. We have foreseen the possibility of such an
|
|
eh, incident. Be assured that we have a way of dealing with unwanted
|
|
disruptions. Stand by to resume the operation.
|
|
|
|
(transmission ends)
|
|
|
|
Amu: Sensors show two more craft approaching. Both are single ion-engine
|
|
fighters, armed with particle beam cannons. No warp, sublight only.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Hail the StellarPeace ships.
|
|
|
|
(Janosz opens hailing frequencies. Hott Sorne appears on the screen.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Well, Mr. Sorne, it appears that your permit to stay in Gilchresian
|
|
space has been revoked. These fighters should be enough proof.
|
|
|
|
Sorne: So you, Captain, are going to observe the murder of Federation citizens
|
|
and do nothing? Quite an erosion of your holy Starfleet principles.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: I just might do that, Mr. Sorne.
|
|
|
|
Scorne (laughs): Allow me to doubt your words, Captain. You will do exactly
|
|
what the regulations require.
|
|
|
|
(Vildan closes the channel, fuming.)
|
|
|
|
Janosz: I am afraid he is right, Captain.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: You don't have to tell me that. Hail the President.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Hailing...no response.
|
|
|
|
Amu: The fighters are now in weapons range from the Starlight Warrior.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Move to intercept.
|
|
|
|
Amu: They are firing.
|
|
|
|
(We see the first fighter fire its cannon. The shields of the Starlight Warrior
|
|
glow, trying to absorb the energy. The second fighter fires. The
|
|
Starlight Warrior explodes in a blinding flash.)
|
|
|
|
Amu: The fighters are changing course for the Raindrop.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: We have seven minutes left, Captain.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Change course to intercept the Raindrop. Ready the tractor beam.
|
|
We'll hold them long enough for the dropship to enter the atmosphere.
|
|
|
|
Amu: The Raindrop is a warp sled. May blow up if we 'cuff them.
|
|
|
|
Vildan (snaps): I am aware of that, Leutenant. (to Janosz) Contact the
|
|
fighters.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: They are ignoring our messages.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Fire a warning shot.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: Firing phaser three.
|
|
|
|
(A bright beam passes across the bow of the first Gilchresian fighter.)
|
|
|
|
Amu: They are ignoring it, Captain. Still on the same course.
|
|
|
|
Janosz: It seems that our choices are rather limited, Captain.
|
|
|
|
Vildan:.....Mr. Illy....target the drive system of the Raindrop. Make it as
|
|
low power as you can. Fire when the fighters enter the weapons range... I take
|
|
full responsibility.
|
|
|
|
Janosz (takes a deep breath): As you say, Captain.
|
|
|
|
(In the cockpit Rena is working feverishly on the console. A small screen is
|
|
showing the silhouette of the Raindrop. The picture then goes out, replaced by
|
|
the usual status readout. Rena re-activates the engines. The dropship starts
|
|
to move - away from the planet and towards the Raindrop.)
|
|
|
|
Rena: Storm Flower to Gilchresian fighters. Leave this ship to us.
|
|
|
|
(Closeup of Rena's hand activating the main disruptor guns)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi (to himself): She's freaked out...must be the stress...shit...have to
|
|
be calm...don't do anything rash...(to Rena) It's OK, Rena. Just calm down.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Shut up and disengage the module!
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi (wide-eyed): A-a-all right, wh-whatever you say.
|
|
|
|
(several warning lights begin flashing)
|
|
|
|
Janosz's voice: Bridge to Storm Flower! Abort immediately! I repeat, abort
|
|
immediately!
|
|
|
|
("WHAT THE BLOODY HELL" howls from the SWAT team in the module which has just
|
|
been disengaged.)
|
|
|
|
(On the bridge)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Leutenant, ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!
|
|
|
|
Amu: The dropship is energizing main disruptors...they are disengaging the
|
|
carrier module!
|
|
|
|
Vildan (completely wide-eyed): This doesn't make sense...Unless...
|
|
|
|
(A twinkle in Amu's left eye.)
|
|
|
|
(A view of the two Gilchresian fighters closing on the Raindrop.)
|
|
|
|
Rena: I TOLD YOU, THIS IS MY KILL!!! OUT OF THE WAY!!! GET LOST!!!
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian pilot 1 (irritated): Crazy humans. Zero-one-seven, disengage.
|
|
|
|
(He and his wingman veer off.
|
|
|
|
A view of the assault craft, sleek and deadly, closing on the Raindrop.)
|
|
|
|
Rena: Yoshi, activate the docking grapplers!
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: What?? You don't mean to...
|
|
|
|
Rena: YES, I DO! NOW!
|
|
|
|
(Inside the Raindrop)
|
|
|
|
Young woman at the helm: Hott, the dropship is locking disruptors!
|
|
|
|
Sorne (with a smirk): Looks like one of their colonial pilots has freaked out.
|
|
(He looks triumphant and not afraid in the slightest.)
|
|
|
|
Woman at the helm (terrified): They are firing! (Closes her eyes and screams)
|
|
|
|
(The assault craft is almost on top of the StellarPeace ship, when its
|
|
disruptors release two bolts of green energy...which pass right above the hull
|
|
of the Raindrop. The assault craft then brakes rapidly and connects with the
|
|
warp sled. A close-up of the grapplers adjusting to the ports on the hull of
|
|
the StellarPeace ship.
|
|
|
|
Inside, the crew is shaken around as the gravity compensators are trying to
|
|
dissipate the energy of the impact.)
|
|
|
|
Rena: Yoshi, scramble their computers! Only five minutes left!
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: I am trying!
|
|
|
|
(Inside the Raindrop.)
|
|
|
|
Somebody from the back of the ship: Hott, what's going on?
|
|
|
|
Sorne (shouting at the woman at the helm): Engage the anti-boarding programs!
|
|
|
|
Woman at the helm (her hands are visibly shaking): Ah, ah, eh...
|
|
|
|
Scorne: Get out! (pushes her away and starts working himself) Damn!!!
|
|
|
|
(Rena's face appears on the screen.)
|
|
|
|
Rena (makes a face at Sorne): Guess you boys and girls are gonna stay here for
|
|
a while...Oh, and you'll LOVE the new brig on our ship...See you there! Byyye!
|
|
|
|
(Bridge of the USS Resilient.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan (not sure whether she should be angry or happy): Fwooh!
|
|
|
|
Janosz (he regained his composure rather quickly): Bridge to Storm Flower.
|
|
Re-attach the module and proceed with the operation as planned.
|
|
|
|
Rena's voice: Roger!
|
|
|
|
(Cut to Amu - she is beaming.
|
|
View of the dropship reconnecting with the module.)
|
|
|
|
Rena: OH, NO! THREE MINUTES LEFT!
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: We'll have to do a high-speed descent.
|
|
|
|
Rena (adjusting the controls): High-speed descent...now! YAHOOO!!!!!
|
|
|
|
(The dropship plummets down into the atmosphere.)
|
|
|
|
SWAT Team: YAAAA!!!!
|
|
|
|
(Inside the building where the terrorists are holding hostages. Five of them
|
|
are covering the group of people in the middle of the room with their guns,
|
|
two are standing in front of a large viewscreen on the wall, their guns
|
|
pointed at two hostages - one male, one female.)
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian official on the screen: We are working on your demands. We need
|
|
more time.
|
|
|
|
Terrorist 1: You've had enough of it. I need the answer in sixty seconds.
|
|
|
|
(Terrorist 2 points his weapon at the female hostage.
|
|
|
|
The conversation is being monitored both on the bridge of the Resilient and in
|
|
the (rather lavish) office of President Jhehal. Important-looking Gilchresians
|
|
in suits and military-style uniforms are in the office as well. Vildan's face
|
|
is on the screen on top of Jhehal's desk.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Mr. President, the assault team will be down there in three minutes.
|
|
|
|
Jhehal: I'm afraid we don't have three minutes, Captain.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Mr. President, you should agree to their demands. That should buy us
|
|
time.
|
|
(Several Gilchresians in the room nod in agreement.)
|
|
|
|
Jhehal: With all due respect, Captain, I cannot do that. As a member of the
|
|
ruling family, I cannot break a promise made in public, even when dealing with
|
|
such rabble.
|
|
|
|
(A view of the dropship cutting through the clouds like a red meteor. The
|
|
instrument panels are ablaze with warning lights.)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Surface temperature 5000 degrees! All systems in the red!
|
|
|
|
Rena: Hold on, please, hold on...
|
|
|
|
(The clouds part, revealing a sprawling megalopolis below.)
|
|
|
|
Rena: Release in ten seconds and counting.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Ready.
|
|
|
|
Frey: Don't worry. Can't wait to get out of here.
|
|
|
|
(Lightning begins to dance over the left engine of the dropship.)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Damn! We're losing the starboard engine!
|
|
|
|
Rena: Release, NOW!
|
|
|
|
(The module opens up. Then twelve cylindrical packets shoot out in all
|
|
directions. Viewed from above, they look like lines spreading radially from
|
|
the center that is the dropship. After reaching a certain distance the
|
|
cylinders open up, releasing a SWAT trooper in an orc suit. A closeup of
|
|
Dwight's orc suit - the anti-grav unit on the back is activated, slowing down
|
|
his fall. The troopers fall down and disappear from view.
|
|
|
|
The left engine of the dropship begins trailing smoke (or is it plasma - hard
|
|
to tell)
|
|
|
|
Cut to the room where the hostages are held.)
|
|
|
|
Terrorist 1: Your time is up. Let it be known that we hold you and the
|
|
government that you represent responsible for harm that will befall the
|
|
hostages.
|
|
|
|
Official on the screen (sneers): ...His Excellency President Jhehal will now
|
|
inform you of his decision.
|
|
|
|
Terrorist 2 (jubilant): We've won, Ash'hen! (raises his gun)
|
|
|
|
Terrorist 1 (not impressed): Very well. Thirty more seconds.
|
|
|
|
(President Jhehal appears on the screen.)
|
|
|
|
Jhehal: We have reviewed your demands, Ash'hen.
|
|
|
|
Terrorist 1 (sarcastic): I am glad to hear that, Mr. President.
|
|
|
|
Jhehal: It appears that indeed, there are some grievances expressed by our
|
|
citizens on Gilchres Minor, that have to be addressed.
|
|
|
|
(A jubilant look on the faces of all terrorists except Ash'hen.)
|
|
|
|
(Cut to the dropship above the city, trailing smoke. Rena is struggling with
|
|
the controls, trying to get more altitude.)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: It is no use! The engine's gonna blow!
|
|
|
|
Rena: We have to get it away from the city!
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: No time! I'll get it as far up as it can and self-destruct! You
|
|
eject!
|
|
|
|
Rena: No, you eject!
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: It's enough heroics for you in one day!
|
|
|
|
Rena: Envious, aren't we?
|
|
|
|
(The dropship begins to shake violently.)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: We've lost both engines! Setting the self-destruct!
|
|
|
|
Rena: Let's get out of here!
|
|
|
|
(They both eject. Moments later there is a blinding flash as the ship
|
|
explodes.)
|
|
|
|
(Back to the room where the hostages are held.)
|
|
|
|
Jhehal: ...and to increase the understanding taking into consideration the
|
|
cultural differences that have developed since the establishment of Gilchres
|
|
Minor...
|
|
|
|
Terrorist 1 (raises his gun): It has been highly entertaining, Mr. President.
|
|
However, if we wanted to listen to your speeches, we would have stayed home
|
|
and watched TV. What I need is a simple answer - yes or no.
|
|
|
|
Jhehal's wife (hartred in her eyes): How can you even talk to this scum! You
|
|
must not agree to what they have the insolence to demand!
|
|
|
|
Jhehal: I do not intend to, Jhiria. I...am...sorry.
|
|
|
|
Terrorist 1: I guess this is a "no". Very well...
|
|
|
|
(A loud explosion shakes the entire building [this is the dropship], knocking
|
|
everyone but three of the terrorists down. The next instant the SWAT troopers
|
|
come crashing through the walls and the windows. The terrorists try to get up
|
|
- and are getting picked off by the troopers one by one.)
|
|
|
|
Dwight (through the universal translator in his suit): Everybody keep, er,
|
|
STAY DOWN!!!
|
|
|
|
(The room is criss-crossed by phaser beams. Several shots are heard. Two of
|
|
the three cyborg terrorists go down. One of the troopers shoots at the third.
|
|
The phaser beam hits the terrorist - then sizzles harmlessly against a
|
|
transparent screen that suddenly appears around the cyborg's body. The
|
|
terrorist shoots back. The beam hits the trooper, sending discharges across
|
|
the surface of the suit. The reactive armor plates glow red and then
|
|
disintegrate with a bright flash.)
|
|
|
|
Trooper (Mesa): AAARGH!
|
|
|
|
(Dwight whirls around and fires his projectile gun manually. The bullets hit
|
|
the cyborg, which staggers and drops to the floor.)
|
|
|
|
Dwight (looks around, sees that all the non-cyborg terrorists have been
|
|
stunned): You OK, Mesa?
|
|
|
|
Mesa: The goddamn suit is sizzlin'! Shit! Owww! F***ing piece of shit!
|
|
|
|
(Two of the troopers rush over and are trying to get Mesa out of his suit.)
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Bekele to Resilient. All hostages are safe.
|
|
|
|
Vildan's voice (rather tense): Casualties?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: None.
|
|
|
|
Vildan (show the bridge): Excelent, Mr. Bekele. (to Janosz) Cancel red alert.
|
|
(to Jhehal on the screen) It is over, Mr. President.
|
|
|
|
Jhehal (bows): The people of Gilchres are indebted to you, Captain Cevelek.
|
|
We'll contact you as soon as we are ready to bestow the appropriate honors
|
|
upon the valiant crew under your command. My Secretary of State will be
|
|
beaming on board your ship to make all the necessary arrangements.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Very well, Mr. President.
|
|
|
|
(transmission ends)
|
|
|
|
Dwight's voice: That explosion...was it the dropship?
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Yes.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Did they make it?
|
|
|
|
Vildan: According to our sensors they ejected five seconds before it blew up.
|
|
It's a city down there, can't single out any life-signs.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Their transponders?
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Inoperative.
|
|
|
|
Dwight (unsure): Could be shorted out by the blast...or damaged during the
|
|
ejection.
|
|
|
|
Amu (she is slumped in her seat): Yes, yes, that's what probably happened.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: The President has promised to mobilize everybody for the search.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: We'll see what we can do down here. And Captain, make sure that we are
|
|
the first to get those cyborgs for autopsy.
|
|
|
|
Vildan (frowns): Very well.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Captain! Permission to beam down and assist in the search!
|
|
|
|
Vildan (looks at her): Go ahead, Leutenant.
|
|
|
|
Amu: THANK YOU, CAPTAIN! (Rushes off the bridge).
|
|
____________________________________________________________________________
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From shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu Wed Jun 24 17:15:26 1992
|
|
Return-Path: <shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu>
|
|
Received: from CHEM.BU.EDU by depot.cis.ksu.edu SMTP (5.65a)
|
|
id AA23369; Wed, 24 Jun 92 17:15:22 -0500
|
|
Received: from BUCHMF.BU.EDU by chem.bu.edu (5.61+++/JLK-1.5)
|
|
id AA19211; Wed, 24 Jun 92 18:15:11 -0400
|
|
Received: by buchmf.bu.edu (5.61+++/Spike-2.1)
|
|
id AA07663; Wed, 24 Jun 92 18:15:33 -0400
|
|
Message-Id: <108240967662468EMU0000@buchmf>
|
|
From: shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu (shimkevi)
|
|
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
|
|
Subject: Grey Stars 5
|
|
Date: Wed Jun 24 18:15 EDT 1992
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|
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Everything is black. In the darkness there are voices speaking in an alien
|
|
tongue.
|
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|
|
Voice 1 (female): It's a human! Wow!
|
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|
|
Voice 2 (female): You've never seen one before?
|
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|
|
Voice 1: Only on TV, not like this. Is it a he or she?
|
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|
|
Voice 2: Want to find out?
|
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|
|
Voice 1&2: Hee-hee-hee.
|
|
|
|
(The darkness suddenly turns to bright blue. There are two Gilchresian faces
|
|
looking down.)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi (sits up): Owww!
|
|
|
|
(He looks around. He is surrounded by Gilchresians, most of them are in
|
|
swimsuits. He then notices that he's dripping wet and, in fact, lying on a
|
|
couch near a swimming pool. His helmet is beside him.)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi (to himself): Right into a swimming pool, how embarrassing. Well,
|
|
could be worse... (to Gilchresians) Excuse me...(taps his communicator pin)
|
|
Mineo to Resilient.
|
|
|
|
(no response)
|
|
|
|
(Kiyoshi taps it again and then notices that it doesn't even beep.)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Damn! ...Rena? (looks around) Rena?!!!! (to Gilchresians) Have you
|
|
seen my co-pilot?
|
|
|
|
(Blank stares)
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 1: Hi....(thinks for a moment) OK!!!
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: OK what?
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 1 (reassuringly): OK!!!
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 2 (points at herself): Alh'hen!
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 1 (points at herself): As'tap!
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi (points at himself): Kiyoshi...Hey, you have a translator by any
|
|
chance?
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 2: Keeeoshi...Traslato?
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi (to himself): We are not getting anywhere...(out loud) Does anyone
|
|
speak human?
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girls 1 & 2: Not speak human! Pash'ren poshel za "Toshiba
|
|
Multi-Speak"! OK!
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi (smiles): OK...I guess.
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 1: Where is Pash'ren? It's just across the street!
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 2: He looks pretty shaken up. Should we give him something to
|
|
drink?
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian guy 1: No, we shouldn't. The body chemistry can be incompatible.
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian guy 2: Just where did he come from, anyway?
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 1: There was this flash in the sky. I guess his plane blew up
|
|
and he ejected.
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian guy 1 (looks at the uniform): Hey, he isn't regular Federation
|
|
Starfleet. It says "RRF SWAT" something.
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian guy 2: I think "swat" is police.
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 1: I get it! The president must have asked Federation for
|
|
help and they sent the police to get those terrorists.
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian guy 2: Then how come they blew up above the city?
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 2: Well, Pash'ren should be here with the Multi-Speak any
|
|
minute. Come on, guys, it is not very polite to speak in a language that
|
|
someone doesn't understand.
|
|
|
|
(A Gilchresian guy comes running.)
|
|
|
|
Pash'ren: I am sorry! SORRY! Couldn't find batteries!
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 1: Give it to me! (takes the Multi-Speak and gives it to
|
|
Kiyoshi)
|
|
|
|
Kiyohi: Thanks. (stands up) Oww.
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 1: Are you all right?
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: I think so...Leutenant Kiyoshi Mineo of the Federation Rapid
|
|
Response Force starship USS Resilient.. I, er, apologize for any
|
|
inconveniences that my presence might have caused.
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian girl 1: Oh, not at all. I am As'tap, this is
|
|
Alh'hen (Gilchresian girl 2).
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian guy 1: I am Low're.
|
|
|
|
Gilchresian guy 2: I'm Jhaa'ben.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Nice meeting you...Listen, have you seen my co-pilot by any chance?
|
|
|
|
Low're: Co-pilot?
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Yeah. We ejected together. I hope she's all right.
|
|
|
|
As'tap: She? You have women in Starfleet?
|
|
|
|
Alh'hen: Of course they do, stupid.
|
|
|
|
As'tap: Want a drink? We have some human stuff in the fridge.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Thanks a lot, but I really have to get in touch with my ship.
|
|
|
|
Pash'ren: Oh, right, there was a public announcement on TV. They are looking
|
|
for two pilots.
|
|
|
|
Alh'hen: Public announcement?
|
|
|
|
Pash'ren: Yeah, about, eh, fifteen minutes ago. I saw it in the store where I
|
|
was buying batteries.
|
|
|
|
Alh'hen: How nice of you to remember...Guess we should try calling the police
|
|
(taps her bracelet)...Hello, police?
|
|
|
|
Voice (sarcastic): Don't tell me, you've seen the pilots.
|
|
|
|
Alh'hen (taken by surprise): Why, yes. As a matter of fact, he is here right
|
|
now.
|
|
|
|
Voice: Yeah, sure. You are the forty-seventh one to have a pilot "here right
|
|
now". Call us when you've got the second one. Bye, miss.
|
|
|
|
Alh'hen: Wait!
|
|
|
|
As'tap: Great! They don't believe us.
|
|
|
|
Low're: Every loonie in the city is probably on the phone by now.
|
|
|
|
As'tap: So what do we do?
|
|
|
|
Alh'hen (to Kiyoshi): We can give you a ride to the nearest police station.
|
|
|
|
Low're: Nah, let's go to that place where they were holding hostages. I'm sure
|
|
somebody from the ship is gonna be there.
|
|
|
|
Alh'hen: All right, let's go.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: How far is it?
|
|
|
|
Alh'hen: About twenty minutes...if we manage to beat the rush traffic, that
|
|
is...
|
|
|
|
(Cut to the outside of the building where the hostage standoff took place. Amu
|
|
and Dwight are inside a police hovervan, talking to a Gilchresian official.)
|
|
|
|
Amu: What is this? A city or some kind of desert?
|
|
|
|
Official: I am sorry, Leutenant, but we've got two hundred calls so far. We
|
|
are doing our best to check them all out.
|
|
|
|
(Amu swears in her native language and storms out of the van).
|
|
|
|
Official (listening to a message on the radio): Wait! We've got positive ID
|
|
from the twenty-fourth precinct. Yes, they have the female pilot. They should
|
|
be here any moment.
|
|
|
|
Amu (sticks her head in): How is she? Is she all right?
|
|
|
|
Official: They said that she was unconscious. They didn't have a medic with
|
|
them, so they don't know how serious the condition is.
|
|
|
|
Amu: How soon till they get here?
|
|
|
|
Official: It's a police speeder, so it should be here any moment.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Dwight! Where is Doctor Matthew?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: He's here. Don't worry, it will be OK.
|
|
|
|
Amu: How do we know? These morons don't know anything about human anatomy!
|
|
What if she's got internal injuries?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Calm down, Amu.
|
|
|
|
Amu: That's easy for you to say (leaves).
|
|
|
|
(There is already a large crowd outside which the police are trying to keep
|
|
out. Several news media hovercars above, shadowed by
|
|
police hovercars. Dr. Matthew from Resilient and his nurse are standing near
|
|
two sophisticated-looking stretchers.
|
|
|
|
A police speeder with its lights flashing swoops down, right near Dr. Matthew.
|
|
Amu and a medtech from the Resilient help the Gilchresians inside to pull the
|
|
unconscious Rena out of the speeder and put her on the stretcher.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Those idiots didn't even take the gravpack off!
|
|
|
|
(Everybody begins to gather around the stretcher. The nurse starts to take off
|
|
Rena's flight jacket and various gadgets that are attached to the suit. Dr.
|
|
Matthew activates the medical scanner.)
|
|
|
|
Dr. Matthew: Hmph...Nothing new here - your classic ejection trauma.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Ejection trauma?
|
|
|
|
Dr. Matthew: Happens all the time. Ejects too late, gets knocked
|
|
unconscious by the blast, then hits the ground while still unconscious.
|
|
|
|
Amu: What do you mean "hits the ground"? What's the bloody gravpack supposed
|
|
to do, then?
|
|
|
|
Dr. Matthew: I don't design them, Miss.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Shouldn't you beam directly to Sickbay?
|
|
|
|
Dr. Matthew: We'll wait for the second pilot.
|
|
|
|
Amu (looks at the scanner display): She's got internal bleeding! Do something!
|
|
|
|
Dr. Matthew: Sure, my pretty. How 'bout stitching your mouth shut?
|
|
|
|
(Amu glares at him. Then the crowd behind the police barrier separates and a
|
|
hovercar glides through. Kiyoshi jumps out and rushes to where Rena's
|
|
stretcher is, followed by Alh'hen, Low're and As'tap. As'tap is wearing
|
|
Kiyoshi's helmet.)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Rena!!!
|
|
|
|
Amu (looks at him): Worried, aren't we?
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: Is...is she all right?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Why should you care? (points at Alh'hen and As'tap who are still in
|
|
swimsuits) Go on partying.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: I wasn't partying! We got stuck in the traffic!
|
|
|
|
Amu: Traffic, huh (grabs him by the collar) SOME PARTNER YOU ARE!!! Her life is
|
|
at stake and you...you...PARTYING WITH ALIEN BIMBOS!!!
|
|
|
|
Dwight (puts his hand on Amu's shoulder): It's OK, Amu. Just calm down.
|
|
|
|
(Amu pays no notice)
|
|
|
|
Dwight (sternly): Leutenant!
|
|
|
|
(Amu releases Kiyoshi, still glaring.)
|
|
|
|
Amu (grudgingly): Sorry!
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: That's OK. (runs over to Rena's side)
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: How is she, Doc? Will she live?
|
|
|
|
Dr. Matthew: Oh, here you are. Get on the second stretcher.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: WILL SHE LIVE?!
|
|
|
|
Dr. Matthew: How many times do I have to answer this question? Yes, she will.
|
|
Now get on the stretcher.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: I'm all right.
|
|
|
|
Dr. Matthew (working on Rena): Nurse, sedate him and get him on the stretcher.
|
|
|
|
Kiyoshi: OK, OK (gets on the stretcher).
|
|
|
|
(Alh'hen and As'tap are waving their hands in the distance.)
|
|
|
|
Dr. Matthew: Four to beam up. Directly to sickbay.
|
|
|
|
Nurse (in a very melodic voice): Oh, Doctor, should I use Becosine?
|
|
|
|
Amu: I'm coming too.
|
|
|
|
Dr. Matthew (matter of factly): No, you are not.
|
|
|
|
(Amu is about to explode again.)
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Calm down, Amu. She will be all right.
|
|
|
|
Amu: But I have to be with her!
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Get yourself together, Leutenant. When you are in Starfleet, you worry
|
|
in your spare time.
|
|
|
|
Amu (stubbornly): She's my friend.
|
|
|
|
Dwight (to himself): She was in a MILITARY SCHOOL? Did they ever teach
|
|
DISCIPLINE? (to Amu) She's also a Starfleet officer, as you are. You are not
|
|
helping her or anyone else by getting in everybody's way.
|
|
|
|
Amu: <....>
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Did you bring your tricorder with you?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Eh?...Yes, I did.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: I want you to take a look at those cyborgs.
|
|
|
|
(Dwight and Amu leave.
|
|
|
|
In the room where the hostages were held. The dead (nonfunctional?) cyborgs
|
|
are lying covered on the floor, guarded by two SWAT troopers and two
|
|
Gilchresian policemen. Luis Mesa is sitting on the floor, rubbing various
|
|
parts of his body. Frey is standing near the window.)
|
|
|
|
Mesa: Is he gone?
|
|
|
|
Frey: Yup, just beamed back with the victims.
|
|
|
|
(Dwight and Amu enter.)
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Mesa? You are supposed to be in sickbay, not down here.
|
|
|
|
Mesa: No way, Dwight! Not Matthew!
|
|
|
|
(Dwight and Amu approach one of the cyborgs. Dwight pulls down the cover.)
|
|
|
|
Amu (scanning the body): Hmm...looks like a modified BiOES-2...very
|
|
modified...what the hell is that?
|
|
|
|
Dwight: You tell me.
|
|
|
|
Amu: This is not BiOES-2, this looks like a...(stops short, looking at the two
|
|
Gilchresian policemen.)
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Replay this footage from my suit.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Yeah...(the screen on her tricorder shows the footage of the phaser beam
|
|
striking the cyborg)...OHHH, JEEZ! Dwight, we have to tell the captain!
|
|
|
|
Dwight: We'll talk to her in person. I asked her to get the permission to do
|
|
the autopsy.
|
|
|
|
(A comminucator in Dwight's suit beeps.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan's voice: Dwight, we've got the permission. We'll beam you directly to
|
|
the autopsy room. Dr. Matthew will be there as soon as he is finished with the patients.
|
|
|
|
Dwight: Acknowledged. Standing by.
|
|
|
|
(Dwight, Amu and the two bodies dematerialize.
|
|
|
|
On board the USS Resilient. Vildan and a Gilchresian in civilian clothes are
|
|
walking along the corridor.)
|
|
|
|
Vildan: As you see, Minister, it is in our mutual interest to keep this matter
|
|
as secret as possible.
|
|
|
|
Minister (of State Security): Quite so, Captain. We shall exhibit uttermost
|
|
discretion in our investigation. Be assured that any relevant information will
|
|
be passed on to your Intelligence.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: We appreciate your cooperation, Minister... Also, if you require any
|
|
assistance in your investigation, we'll be happy to provide it.
|
|
|
|
(they enter the transporter room which is empty)
|
|
|
|
Minister: I thank you for your most generous offer, Captain. However, taking
|
|
into account the very delicate nature of this case and the fact that the
|
|
presence of outside investigators will most certainly attract attention, I
|
|
must decline...Be assured that my decicion is in no way meant to undermine the
|
|
trust between the UFP and the Gilchresian Republic - I am acting solely in the
|
|
mutual interests of both governments.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Be assured that it won't be taken as such. Being a public servant
|
|
myself, I understand your concerns.
|
|
|
|
Minister: The Federation is indeed fortunate to have you as their servant,
|
|
Captain Cevelek.
|
|
|
|
Vildan (smiles): Thank you, Minister.
|
|
|
|
Minister: My pleasure, Captain. (steps onto the transporter pad)
|
|
|
|
(Vildan activates the transporter. The Minister dematerializes. Vildan leaves
|
|
the room and almost immediately bumps into Amu.)
|
|
|
|
Amu: Oh, hello Captain.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Hello, Leutenant.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Er, Captain, can I ask you something...
|
|
|
|
Vildan (suspicious): Forget it, Leutenant. No investigations on your own.
|
|
|
|
Amu: No, Captain, that's not what I wanted to ask.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: What is it, then?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Are we required to wear uniforms at the reception tonight?
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Mmm...we'll stretch the regulations on this occasion, I guess.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Thank you, Captain...And about that case.
|
|
|
|
Vildan: Yes.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Where did it get transferred - SIS or FCIA?
|
|
|
|
Vildan: It was SIS.
|
|
|
|
[SIS is Starfleet - Intelligence Section, FCIA is actually UFP-CIA]
|
|
|
|
Amu: This is strange, don't you think, Captain?
|
|
|
|
Vildan: We're not supposed to discuss that, Leutenant. As far as WE are
|
|
concerned, the case is closed.
|
|
|
|
Amu: ....
|
|
|
|
Vildan: That's the way things are...See you later, Leutenant (leaves)
|
|
|
|
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
(Cargo bay of the USS Resilient. It is empty and dimly illuminated. The door
|
|
opens and Amu walks in, very cautiously, carrying a duffle bag in one hand and
|
|
Rena's sword in another. Amu takes another look around, then
|
|
places the sword and the bag on the transporter platform. She then walks to
|
|
the control panel and activates the transporter. The bag and the sword
|
|
dematerialize. Amu turns around and leaves the cargo bay.
|
|
|
|
Cut to sickbay. Rena is lying in bed, sleeping. Dr. Matthew and his nurse are
|
|
nowhere to be seen. Amu comes in, she is now dressed in a blue gown, somewhat
|
|
reminiscent of XIV century France, though perhaps a bit more "functional".)
|
|
|
|
Amu (in a whisper): Rena! Wake up!
|
|
|
|
Rena (she was only pretending to be asleep): How did it go?
|
|
|
|
Amu (gives her an "OK" sign): All set.
|
|
|
|
Rena: What took you so long?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Somebody was in the cargo bay...OK, listen. When I leave, you get in
|
|
there and change. We're beaming down in about ten minutes. I've set the
|
|
transporter to get you out of there and feed your signal into the carrier
|
|
beam.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Did you get the medal? The new one, that the President gave to me.
|
|
|
|
(Amu nods)
|
|
|
|
Rena: Did you get the sword?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Yeah...Just don't clobber anyone on the head this time.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Aw, come on, that guy was really asking for it...What was his name, Bill
|
|
or Will something?
|
|
|
|
Amu: Will. Man, we sure are lucky he didn't know we were Starfleet as well.
|
|
|
|
Rena: You remember that, right? That guy was so pushy, jeez.
|
|
|
|
Amu: I sure am glad he is not OUR first officer.
|
|
|
|
(The door opens and Dr. Matthew comes in.)
|
|
|
|
Dr. Matthew: Hi there, young ladies.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Doctor, pleeeeze!!!
|
|
|
|
Matthew: Out of the question, my pretty. You're grounded for the rest of the
|
|
week.
|
|
|
|
Amu: You won't be missing much. I'm pretty sure it's gonna be boring (gives
|
|
her a wink which Rena returns).
|
|
|
|
Amu: Well, I have to get going. See you soon.
|
|
|
|
Rena: Have fun.
|
|
|
|
(Amu leaves. A couple of minutes later Rena gets up and puts on her slippers.)
|
|
|
|
Matthew: Now where do you think you are going?
|
|
|
|
Rena: BATHROOM! (gets in and locks the door. Inside she opens the duffle bag,
|
|
takes out her dress, shoes, etc. and starts changing.)
|
|
|
|
(Cut to the transporter room. Janosz and Dwight are standing on the platform.
|
|
Vildan comes in, dressed in a somewhat risky garment.)
|
|
|
|
Dwight (appreciative look): Looking great, Captain. May I have the first
|
|
dance?
|
|
|
|
Vildan (smiles): If we survive the official part...(looks at her watch)
|
|
Where's Leutenant Sagie?
|
|
|
|
(Amu rushes in.)
|
|
|
|
Dwight: There she is.
|
|
|
|
Amu: Sorry I am late!
|
|
|
|
Vildan (absent-mindedly): That's all right. (to a person at the transporter
|
|
controls) Energize.
|
|
|
|
(The "landing party" disappears.)
|
|
|
|
(Inside the sickbay)
|
|
|
|
Dr. Matthew (knocks on the bathroom door): Leutenant, get out of there.
|
|
(after a pause) Very well, you give me no choice...Computer, this is the chief
|
|
medical officer speaking. Requesting the sickbay bathroom lock override.
|
|
|
|
Computer voice: Affirmative. The door lock is now disabled.
|
|
|
|
(Dr. Matthew opens the door and sees Rena's patient gown, slippers and the
|
|
duffle bag.)
|
|
|
|
Nurse: Doctor! What shall we do?
|
|
|
|
Matthew: We'll have her head when she comes back. Her science officer friend's
|
|
as well...Young people today!
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
(A view of Kazhar at warp speed. On the bridge Pelle is standing near one of
|
|
the wall consoles, looking at the schematics displayed on the screen. There is
|
|
a neural interface bracelet on his left arm.
|
|
|
|
The door opens. Mike comes in drinking beer.)
|
|
|
|
Mike: Hi! Can I come in?
|
|
|
|
Pelle (without turning): Sure.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Thanks. Wes has crashed in the room, so I thought I'll just hang around.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (switches off the interface bracelet and turns around): By all means.
|
|
|
|
Mike: It's a great ship you've got.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: It's all right.
|
|
|
|
Mike: It's not all right, it's awesome! The only thing they told us about
|
|
BOP's at the academy is that they are unreliable and have a low safety margin.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Only if you don't take care of it. As far as the design goes it is
|
|
probably the best.
|
|
|
|
Mike (not convinced): Really?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: When it was first introduced - sixty years ago, it was way ahead
|
|
of its time. Even now it is still the best all-around ship...well, I heard
|
|
some good things about the new Rihannsu "Glorious Inspiration" class, but it's
|
|
all hearsay so far, nothing solid.
|
|
|
|
[Rihannsu = Romulans]
|
|
|
|
Mike: Glorious Inspiration? I've never heard of that one.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (smiles): The Starfleet codename is "War Bird IV". It's not a correct
|
|
translation, though.
|
|
|
|
Mike: A new Warbird? But isn't their present design only five years old?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Why not, they are a paranoid race. Besides, their present design is
|
|
garbage.
|
|
|
|
Mike: You can't be serious! A War...er, Glorious Inspiration can take out a
|
|
Galaxy-class ship.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (amused): Oh, Galaxy...Galaxy is a joke. Two BOP's can take it out -
|
|
easily. It's built for show, not real combat.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Not when it separates.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Yes, but your enemy won't wait for you to separate. Besides, the saucer
|
|
section is extremely vulnerable. The only way this can work if you put a
|
|
cloaking device on the saucer...in which case you have to put a separate M/A
|
|
reactor in there...but if it is powerful enough to sustain a cloaking field it
|
|
is powerful enough to drive the on-board weaponry, then the whole separation
|
|
idea is unnecessary...Another triumph of politics over common sense.
|
|
|
|
Mike: You don't think much of Federation technollogy, do you?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Not at all. The problem is not technology, in fact it's probably the
|
|
best there is. The problem is how it is being implemented. What your ideology
|
|
demands and what your survival instincts dictate is in constant conflict.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Not with the Romulans and the Klingons.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: You're right about the Klingons. That's why their ship designs are the
|
|
most balanced. Not with the Rihannsu, though.
|
|
|
|
Mike: But still, they always say that Klingon ships are unreliable.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: It's a cultural problem - mostly. In Klingon society, every male is
|
|
expected to become a warrior (this word said with sarcasm), not a technician.
|
|
Therefore their repair crews are always stretched thin and consist mostly of
|
|
unmotivated losers...But this is also the reason why they were the first to
|
|
develop a workable self-repair system. The Federation still doesn't have one.
|
|
|
|
Mike: No, they started putting one on the new ships.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: If you are talking about the RRF ships, the AMOS they use is bought
|
|
from the Klingons...Same as the one on this ship, actually.
|
|
|
|
[AMOS - Auto Maintenance Operating System]
|
|
|
|
Unit: Bleeeep! New information has been received. The USS Enterprise has left
|
|
Starbase 37 for Gilchres, apparently on a diplomatic mission.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Eh?
|
|
|
|
(The door slides open. Wesley comes in, rubbing his eyes. There are sleep
|
|
marks on his face.)
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Eh, what time is it now?
|
|
|
|
Mike: Wes, the Enterprise is no longer at 37!
|
|
|
|
Wesley: What did you say?
|
|
|
|
Mike: The Enterprise has left for Gilchres...You have any suggestions?
|
|
|
|
Unit: Bleeeep! Message coming in.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: From where?
|
|
|
|
Unit: It is coded and marked for you only.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Transfer it to my room (to Mike and Wesley) Sorry...can't get away from
|
|
those business calls. I'll be right back. (leaves)
|
|
|
|
Mike: This is just great, Wes. What are we supposed to do now?
|
|
|
|
Wesley (he is exhausted and doesn't care anymore): I don't know (in a very
|
|
honest voice)
|
|
|
|
Mike: Well, I know. We're gonna rot at 37 for the rest of our vacation. Thanks
|
|
a lot.
|
|
|
|
(Inside Pelle's room, which is fairly large. The room is a mess and is in
|
|
contrast with the rest of the ship. The only tidy spot is a small table near
|
|
the bed. A holographic picture of a young vulcanoid female is on the table,
|
|
signed in an alien language. Pelle comes in.)
|
|
|
|
Pelle: All right, what is it? (picks up a portable viewer from the floor)
|
|
|
|
Unit: Decoding...now.
|
|
|
|
(Pelle reads the text that appears on the viewer screen. It's a very short
|
|
message, basically a bunch of figures and numbers.)
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Ahh, bioscramble as well. Unit, give me a decoder.
|
|
|
|
(Two hyposprays materialize on the table. Pelle picks up the first one and
|
|
injects the contents into his arm. Switch to the view from his eyes - suddenly
|
|
everything in the room becomes a blur except for the message which is now
|
|
readable. Pelle examines the message, then closes his eyes and injects the
|
|
contents of the second hypospray. His vision slowly returns to normal.)
|
|
|
|
Pelle (winces): Uhhh...I hate this stuff...Unit, looks like we are not going
|
|
to Antanarivu after all. Set course for Sochi. (stands up)
|
|
|
|
Unit: Very well. The course change has now been effected.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (winces again and rubs his eyes): Send a message to USS Enterprise. Tell
|
|
them that we want to drop those two off and arrange a rendesvois. (leaves the
|
|
room)
|
|
|
|
Unit: Very well. Sending the message now.
|
|
|
|
(Bridge of Kazhar. Pelle comes in.)
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Good news for you guys. Looks like I have to change my plans, so Unit
|
|
will try to arrange a rendesvois with the Enterprise.
|
|
|
|
Wesley: Thank you very much, Captain.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Captain? You see any crew around? I don't.
|
|
|
|
Mike: Thanks a lot.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: You're welcome. (comes up to one of the consoles and starts working).
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
A seaside city drenched in water that is pouring from the skies.
|
|
Looks like the downpour is not a problem for the diverse and colorful crowd in
|
|
the streets. Especially entertaining are the various attempts
|
|
to cope with the rain. Bright semi-permeable cloaks that allow bodily
|
|
perspiration to evaporate but do not let any water in, antigrav umbrellas
|
|
hovering over their owners' heads. One person is walking with a Yakti dragon
|
|
on his shoulders, covered by the almost translucent leathery wings of the
|
|
animal. But quite a lot of people clearly do not mind the water at all,
|
|
preferring to wear swimsuits. A Vulcan couple walks by, dripping wet but
|
|
impassive and unperturbed as usual.
|
|
|
|
The cafe at the pier, built entirely of paper-thin transparent material, looks
|
|
like it is about to dissolve in the falling water. The material must be really
|
|
strong, though - the flimsy-looking stairs do not bend in the under
|
|
the weight of a Klingon couple who are leaving the cafe.
|
|
A gray-haired heavy-built human male is sitting at one of the tables. A young
|
|
couple is seated at the table nearest to him.
|
|
|
|
The water curtain at the entrance parts to let in Pelle, who's wearing a white
|
|
jacket, light grey pants and a dark green t-shirt. Pelle presses something on
|
|
the handle of the umbrella he is carrying. The umbrella folds
|
|
into a cylinder the size of a pen, which Pelle puts into the breast pocket.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Pelle (approaches the grey-haired man at the table): It's been a while, Udo.
|
|
|
|
Udo (looks up): Still feeling young, Pelle?
|
|
|
|
Pelle (sits down): I guess young enough to feel that three years have passed.
|
|
|
|
(The couple at the next table shows signs of discomfort)
|
|
|
|
Udo: I rather wouldn't start our conversation with this, but my assistants are
|
|
very sensitive to the thing you are wearing (points at Pelle's rather thick
|
|
headband).
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Betazoids, eh?
|
|
|
|
Udo: They are here for your protection as well as mine.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: I can decrease the intensity.
|
|
|
|
Udo: Please do. They can't monitor the people around with a neural jammer on
|
|
your head at full power.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: It's at 200 kPSI now. They should be able to tolerate it.
|
|
|
|
Udo: Barely.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: You can give them my sincere apologies.
|
|
|
|
Udo: These people are loyal to me. I do not feel comfortable subjecting them
|
|
to unnecessary pain.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (smiles): We all love our tools, don't we, Admiral?
|
|
|
|
Udo: Tools? Sometimes I wonder if your people have truly discarded their old
|
|
philosophy.
|
|
|
|
Pelle (smiles): My people? How many of them, perhaps a hundred thousand at
|
|
most with eighty percent of those unaware of what they actually are. Of the
|
|
twenty thousand that remain, no one is in the position of power, not even
|
|
remotely. Once we understood that we are not a step forward in the human
|
|
evolution, we stepped aside and let the regular humans live their life as they
|
|
see fit.
|
|
|
|
Udo (sarcastic): Or rather been helped to understand?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: We could have easily regrouped after the Eugenics Wars and started
|
|
another round of planet-wide bloodshed. But we did not - on our own free will.
|
|
That decision, made more than three hundred years ago, still stands... Yet even
|
|
you still perceive us as a threat.
|
|
|
|
Udo: I do not perceive you as a threat. But I would rather not have you insult
|
|
my assistants.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Insult? I apologize if it has been perceived as such.
|
|
|
|
Udo: I believe that we have carried this discussion too far.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Quite so...Let's get back to business, shall we?
|
|
|
|
Udo: I believe you've been to Gilchres a couple of times.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Only once. They were considering joining the Federation at that time.
|
|
|
|
Udo: They still do. That was one of the reasons we've sent in a SWAT team a
|
|
week ago, to assist in a cyborg hostage crisis. The operation was a success.
|
|
However, the results of the autopsy done on one of the terminated cyborgs were
|
|
quite alarming...The design did not confirm to any known standard - but one.
|
|
The Borg.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Borg? That's interesting.
|
|
|
|
Udo: Then I assume you won't mind investigating this.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: This looks like a dangerous assignment.
|
|
|
|
Udo: What would you say about twice the usual rate?
|
|
|
|
Pelle: 2.5
|
|
|
|
Udo: The SIS is investigating this matter as well, so make sure you
|
|
don't get their attention.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: SIS? So your people are off the case...That would be three times the
|
|
usual rate.
|
|
|
|
Udo: There is a limit to how much we can write off in miscellaneous.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: You can use Infocom funds. What I am asking is barely adequate for what
|
|
you are requesting.
|
|
|
|
Udo: We don't know what it is yet.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: From what I know about the Borg, they do not plant agents. I assume
|
|
that this is some kind of underground weapons manufacturer who got hold of the
|
|
Borg technology.
|
|
|
|
Udo: It's not as easy as you might think.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Why not? After all, a Borg ship exploded above the Earth. Lots of junk
|
|
floating around, just waiting to be picked up. Plus there were those implants
|
|
on Captain Picard.
|
|
|
|
Udo: The area was swept clean immediately after the explosion. There were no
|
|
unidentified ships in the area. All the techincal data on the Borg is
|
|
available only with a special security clearance.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: There could have been a cloaked ship.
|
|
|
|
Udo: Possible, but highly unlikely.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: If so, then the only alternative is that there is somebody in Starfleet
|
|
with enough authority to have access to the Borg data who is also working for
|
|
some yet unknown arms manufacturer... Quite a conspiracy to tackle, if you ask
|
|
me.
|
|
|
|
Udo: We don't know if there is a conspiracy.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: If not, then why do you need my services? Tell one of the ships under
|
|
your command to do an independent investigation. This is well within your
|
|
authority.
|
|
|
|
Udo: You know the answer.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Heh, heh (crooked smile)
|
|
|
|
Udo (takes something out of his pocket): This is the information that we've
|
|
got so far.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: Thank you (takes the chip)...
|
|
|
|
Udo: The spending money will be in the Infocom account as usual. Any
|
|
additional information termed relevant to your investigation will be posted
|
|
there as well.
|
|
|
|
Pelle: What about the payment? I would rather not have it appear in my
|
|
Federation account.
|
|
|
|
Udo: We'll do a wire transfer into a separate Infocom account every two weeks.
|
|
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Pelle: Perfect...Looks like we've reached an agreement this time. (stands up)
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It's been a pleasure, Admiral.
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Udo: There is one more thing I wanted to tell you...It's about Praetor
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Tessemok.
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Pelle (frowns): What about him?
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Udo: According to the latest intelligence report, his son has died in an
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accident...leaving no children.
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Pelle: What makes you think that this is of any relevance to me?
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Udo: As it is now, your daughter is his only descendant.
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Pelle: He disowned Arsha and her future descendants when she married me. This
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is something that no Rihannsu can take back, no matter how powerful.
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Udo: With both of his children dead and no one to continue the bloodline he
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just might change his mind.
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Pelle: He has other means of continuing his family line. The Rihannsu medical
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sciences are not as advanced as ours, but they are not in the stone age,
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either...Technology-wise, that is.
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Udo (shrugs): You know their customs better than I do. Still, I suggest that
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you take notice.
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Pelle: Good-bye, Admiral.
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(Pelle leaves)
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_____________________________________________________________________________
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From shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu Wed Jun 24 17:17:23 1992
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Return-Path: <shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu>
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id AA23527; Wed, 24 Jun 92 17:17:21 -0500
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id AA07673; Wed, 24 Jun 92 18:17:40 -0400
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Message-Id: <108240967662595EMU0000@buchmf>
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From: shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu (shimkevi)
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To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
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Subject: Grey Stars 6
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Date: Wed Jun 24 18:17 EDT 1992
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(A view of Kazhar passing over a house at the foot of a small hill. As the Bird
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of Prey goes down, we see two small figures running up the
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green slope. One is a little girl, the other one is a large black dog.
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The Bird of Prey lands on top of the hill. Pelle jumps out of the airlock and
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looks around.
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The girl and the dog reach the top.)
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Girl: Daddy! (launches herself at Pelle)
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(The dog is running around, barking)
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Pelle (staggers back from the impact): Hey, you've grown, ai'ni. (holds her in
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his hands) Not a little girl anymore, aren't we?
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Arisia: No! I am a big girl now!
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Pelle: So, when should I say "Happy Birthday"? Now or tomorrow?
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Arisia (thinks for a moment): Now! And tomorrow, too!
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Pelle (laughs): Happy Birthday! (throws her up and then catches
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her)
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Arisia: Waah!
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Pelle: You scared?
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Arisia: Me, scared? No way! I am never scared!
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Pelle (winks): That's the spirit, ai'ni.
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Arisia: Why didn't you come earlier? Your stupid business again?
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Pelle: Yeah...I am sorry.
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Arisia: I was afraid you won't come back...like Mommy.
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Pelle (forced smile): Don't worry, ai'ni. I will never leave you.
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Arisia: You promise?
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Pelle: I promise.
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(The dog comes up to Pelle and starts sniffing him)
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Pelle: Hi, dog. What's up?
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Arisia (grabs Bruno, the dog tolerates it stoically): I can't ride Bruno
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anymore.
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Pelle: Would you like a horse, ai'ni?
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Arisia: No, I don't like horses, they are stupid. I want to ride Bruno.
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Pelle (smiles): Hmm, you can put him into a landmate.
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(Fortunately, the dog doesn't understand what is being said :-)
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Arisia (clearly imitating someone): Oh, Daddy, the people here are so
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backward, they'll never get it.
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Pelle (laughs): You think so?
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Arisia: That's what Aunt Dingyi always says.
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(Pelle chuckles.
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Arisia's bracelet beeps.)
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Female voice: Did you get your dad, Arisia?
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Arisia: We're coming, aunt Dingyi!
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Dingyi: Tell your dad to hurry up. Everyting is cold already.
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Pelle: Don't worry, Dingyi. We're coming.
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(Pelle and Arisia are walking down the hill, followed by Bruno, who is
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sniffing at the holes left by some burrowing creatures.)
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Pelle: So, ai'ni, how's everything?
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Arisia: It's all right...It's boring here.
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Pelle: Yeah, I know...How 'bout this: when you finish school, I'll take you to
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Rocinante for a week or two.
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Arisia: Wow, really? You promise?
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(Pelle nods)
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Arisia: But...the school has just started.
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Pelle: Well, you see, I have to do some work myself, so when your vacation
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starts, I'll be done as well and we both go to Rocinante. Deal?
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Arisia: OK, deal. (shakes Pelle's hand)
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(Pelle and Arisia now approach the house. It is fairly large and is surrounded
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by a weird-looking fence. They walk up the stairs. Arisia puts her hand on the
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head of a stone gargoyle at the door. The door slides open. Pelle and Arisia
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walk in and are met by a middle-aged couple. They exchange greetings.)
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Pelle: So, how is everything here?
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Chen: Slow as always. Nothing changes around here...Well, that's why we moved
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here in the first place. How about yourself?
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Pelle (shrugs): Lots of things out there. Just trying to keep up with the
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times, really.
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Dingyi: First, let's sit down. Have some real food for a change.
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Pelle: What? You've got a multi-scan food processor?
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Dingyi: I said REAL FOOD!
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(Pelle, Arisia, Dingyi and Chen are sitting at the table. Arisia is bored and
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is playing with her empty cup.)
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Arisia: Daddy, can we go for a walk?
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Pelle (eating): Just a second, ai'ni.
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Arisia: Want to see something?
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Pelle: Sure, what is it?
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Arisia: Can we go, Aunt Dingyi?
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Dingyi: You can go. We'll be coming shortly.
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Arisia: Quickly, right?
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Pelle: Right.
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Arisia: Bruno! (runs out of the room. the dog follows her).
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(A couple of minutes later there is an agonizing howl from the dog.)
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Pelle: Looks like she's really hard on the dog.
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Chen: Well, it can't be helped, really. She's just stronger than a human child
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her age.
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Pelle: I should bring her a sehlat next time.
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Chen: Good idea. I hope Bruno lasts till then. (smiles)
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Dingyi: The neighbours will just love it...Besides, isn't this climate too
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cold for a sehlat?
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Pelle: They have some specialized breeds - made for Vulcan families that
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work off-planet. The climate shouldn't be a problem. What about the
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neighbours?
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Chen (sighs): Well, it's a rather...quiet place. Most of the people here
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haven't been off planet once in their lifetime. She just stands out, that's
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all.
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Pelle: Has there been any problems?
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Dingyi: With the neighbours - not really. We're telling everybody she's half
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Vulcan.
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Pelle: Good...Is the school all right?
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Dingyi: As far as the kids go - fine. She's much stronger than her classmates,
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anyway (smiles). They don't try to tease her anymore. It's a teacher -
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doesn't seem to like her. Especially since she came into school wearing that
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landmate.
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Pelle: What's wrong with a landmate?
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Chen: Well, she had a really large water gun attached to it, Mrs. Evoni
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thought that it was a phaser rifle and...became really nervous.
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Pelle: They don't even know how a real phaser rifle looks like...Happy people,
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what can you say.
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Dingyi: They are...happily isolated...and she's reminding them of the outside.
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Pelle (looks down): I know. But she should learn to accept what she is. This
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is a good place to start.
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Dingyi: Having her father around for more than two weeks a year would also
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help.
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Pelle: Yeah, I should spend more time with her.
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Dingyi: You said that the last time and disappeared for seven months...If
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things keep going the way they are, one day you won't come back. Have you ever
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thought of that?
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Pelle: In this world it is dangerous just to be alive.
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Dingyi: Let me tell you something. You are becoming to think that you are
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invincible. Arsha thought that, too - and now Arisia is without a mother...
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It's been really hard on her. She still cries at night sometimes,
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tries not to show it, but we know.
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Chen: Stop that, Dingyi.
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Dingyi: Even if Kazhar is the best ship around, it did not protect Arsha and it
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won't protect you. If you don't want your daughter to become an orphan, you
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should stop - now.
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Pelle: I will. After this mission, I will.
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Dingyi: I hope you mean it. For her AND for you.
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Pelle (looks up): Yes, I mean it...By the way, did they get any planetary
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defences here?
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Chen: No, not really. Still squabbling whether to repair that satellite.
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Pelle: There was a Starfleet report that I've intercepted. One of their
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research outposts was wiped out by a snowflake. Not that it was anywhere near,
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but still...
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Dingyi: Are you serious? This is horrible!
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Pelle: I brought something with me...just in case.
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(Arisia appears in the doorway)
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Arisia: You all are still here!
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Dingyi: Sorry, dear. We and your dad had to discuss something.
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Arisia (suspicious): Did you tell Daddy about yesterday?
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Chen: No, we didn't.
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Pelle: Hmm, and what happened yesterday?
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Arisia: It was not my fault!
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Chen: She was suspended from school for a week. (smiles)
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Arisia: It was all Molly's fault!
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Dingyi: It's that new girl in class.
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Arisia: She called me "long-ears", so I punched her nose.
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Pelle: Yeah?
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Arisia (with a guilty look): It...it broke, and Mrs. Evoni got really mad at
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me. But it was all Molly's fault, really... Are you gonna be mad at me?
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Pelle (picks her up and winks): Me, mad at my ai'ni?
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Arisia: You are not angry, really?
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Pelle: Just don't do it again, OK?
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Arisia: No, I won't!
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Pelle: So, what is it that you wanted to show me?
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Arisia: It's in the garden.
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Pelle: All right, let's go. (to Chen and Dingyi) Excuse us.
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(Chen and Dingyi nod. Pelle and Arisia leave the room.)
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-----------------------------------------------------------------
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(Later at night. Chen and Dingyi's hovertruck is standing in the backyard.
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Pelle and Chen are dragging something large out of the truck. Dingyi is
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standing nearby, "coordinating" the efforts.)
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Pelle: Uhh...I could have tried a phased pulse.
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Dingyi: They still might detect it. The governor's really nervous every time
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you come.
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Pelle: They didn' have any transporter restrictions the last time.
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Dingyi: Is it THAT heavy?
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Pelle/Chen: Uhhh...
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Pelle: Where now?
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Dingyi: Put it in the shed. We'll think where to install it tomorrow. (looks
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at the device on the back seat) What is this thing?
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(Pelle and Chen put their load down)
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Pelle: Oh, this is a circuit breaker override. It switches off all the users
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on the power net except for you. With it you'll be able to power the bank
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directly from the planet's power station.
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Dingyi: Illegal, I'll bet.
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Pelle: Eh, it's a new one. They haven't had the time to outlaw it yet.
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(The door opens. Arisia walks out of the house.)
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Arisia: Dad? Uncle Chen? What are you doing?
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Dingyi: Arisia? You should be in bed!
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Pelle: Oh, this is just some equipment for the house that I've brought.
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Arisia (comes close and looks at the thing that Pelle and Chen have just been
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carrying): Wow! A phaser bank!
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Dingyi: Now, how do you know that? (looks suspiciously at Pelle)
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(Pelle gives her an innocent look)
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Arisia: I saw Mommy calibrate one before...(sniff)...Mommy...
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Pelle (comes close to her and puts his hands on her shoulders): I know. It's
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hard for me, too.
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Arisia: (sniff) Could you walk with me?
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(Pelle nods)
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Dingyi: Go ahead, we'll manage ourselves.
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(Pelle and Arisia are standing under the night sky. Far, far away there are
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the lights of the house.)
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Arisia: Will you go out there again, Daddy?
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Pelle: It will be the last time...I promise.
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Arisia: Is it true that you can meet the souls of the dead among the stars?
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Pelle: Some people say that.
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Arisia: Did you ever see Mommy's soul out there? Just once?
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Pelle: ...No...I haven't.
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Arisia: Will you look when you go this time?
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Pelle (takes Arisia's hand): Yes...I shall always look.
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=============================================================================
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=============================== THE END =====================================
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=============================================================================
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Copyright 1992 by Sergei Shimkevich (shimkevi@buchmf.bu.edu)
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