ftp.ee.pdx.edu/2014.02.ftp.ee.pdx.edu.tar/ftp.ee.pdx.edu/pub/frp/stories/startrek/adv1/pro5

Text File | 1994-09-10 | 32KB | 658 lines

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                           Star Trek: Play by E-Mail
                              The Forbidden Years
                               Campaign Write-up
===============================================================================
                                 Adventure #1
                             Flight of the Phobos
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                  Prologue #5
                             A Matter of Precedent
===============================================================================
       Copyright 1993 Jim Vassilakos & Tony Hayes / All Rights Reserved
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                                  Cast & Crew

                    ST-PBeM GameMaster   Tony Hayes
                         Cmdr. Elineva   Jim Vassilakos
                            Dr. O'Neil   Mark Hammel
                        Lt. Bellasario   Alan Ward
                             Lt. T'lar   Ronnie Simonds


Stardate 6003.16 at 1200 hours: USS Phobos, Captain's Quarters (Deck 4)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Captain's log, stardate 6003.16 at 1200 hours, Cmdr. Nienna Elineva, Interim
Captain of the USS Phobos, NCC-20137. We've been isolated from the Excalibur
for over five days now. If they follow regulations, they'll wait no longer than
a week. After that, we'll be presumed dead. But that is far from the most
pressing of my concerns. From all the evidence at hand, it seems we have a
situation that may prove of vital concern to the Federation.

"At this point, I can only assume that we are dealing with some form of invader
from this mirror-universe in which we find ourselves. They may very well have
been to our home-universe before. They may have attacked the Romulans on
frequent occasion without us ever knowing about it. They may even have taken
small ships in order to gain technical intelligence. If my guess is correct,
then somewhere along the line, they amassed enough intelligence about us to try
to take a relatively big Star Fleet vessel without totally destroying it. Hence
the skill and precision with which they attacked the Phobos in combat.

"Of course, getting more information about us is a very large part of their
goal. So they decide to nab the survivors, who they may very well be
interrogating. They want to know more about us and what our universe has to
offer theirs. I now think of them as space vikings. My only confusion, with
this theory, has to do with why they didn't just take the Phobos. Something
must have driven them off, but what?

"To help answer this question, I've conducted an extensive computer search on
Star Fleet records which concern this mirror-universe we've found ourselves
trapped in. It seems that about fifty years ago, one of the original
constitution class vessels encountered a similar mirror-universe where the
Federation did not exist, but was instead replaced by a warrior-state much akin
to the Klingon Empire. I wonder if we have revisited this place, after so many
years. Albeit, this is a worst case scenario, but you don't stay alive by
assuming the best.

"We have detected no Federation nav-markers nor any subspace communications
whatsoever. However, we have detected a nearby star with characteristics which
would suggest that it accompanies a planetary system. According to our inverted
map of the region, it does contain planets including a Class-M world. We are en
route now, however, we're not going there for the scenery. We've detected
strange power-emanations from this star system, possibly originating from a
starship. If it is a starship, it's probably in orbit about the Class-M world.
We are using our charts of the system to navigate our route such that the
system's most notable gas giant remains between us and the Class-M world, thus
shielding us from their scans. We should arrive within the next few hours,
where we will assume a hidden posture in the upper clouds of the gas giant and
conduct a passive sensor sweep of the area. One other note. The system is well
within the Romulan neutral zone, assuming that the political boundaries of this
alternate universe are consistent with our own. That is all for now."


Stardate 6003.16 at 1300 hours: USS Phobos, Sickbay (Deck 7)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being forced to walk a treadmill seems a little dumb to T'lar, but no matter
what her distaste for authority, she's learned long ago never to question
doctors. Not only is it impossible to win, but they tend to get even.

"Good," O'Neil murmurs. "The regen has healed it quite nicely, if I do say so
myself."

"Can I return to duty, now?"

"No... we have just a few more tests." He pauses as the sliding doors open,
Nien walking into the sickbay as though she owns the place. And for all intents
and purposes, she does.

"What can I do for you, Captain?"

"Just another visit to see our prize patient. How are you feeling, Lieutenant?"

T'lar nods, "Very good, sir. Requesting permission to return to duty."

Nien casts a glance to the doctor, who seems to unwind under her scrutiny.

"Okay, okay. She can go. We'll run those other tests later, Lieutenant."

T'lar makes a quick exit, glad to be finally free of medical supervision.
Meanwhile, Nien takes a seat by the foreign matter ejector, nudging it across
the table to make room for an elbow. "So, what's the word on the green stuff?"

O'Neil sighs, recalling how he'd told her about the breakthrough late into the
previous night. He'd fallen asleep beside the medical computer, however, and
failed to make his report ready by the end of the morning shift. Now Nien was
here to collect that report.

"The reason we'd been having such trouble with the blood was because we were
trying to determine what race it belonged to, a logical but not quite correct
supposition. It finally came to me late last night... not which race but rather
which races. Using that parameter, I discovered that the blood is primarily
Romulan with traces of Vulcan, Klingon, Human, Rigelian, Orion, and Tellarite
in significant percentages plus traces of other races, some of which we can't
even identify. In short, the blood we found is a composite blood-type of many
different species. It seems to be the result of some form of genetic tampering.
And before you ask, I have already ruled out the possibility that it was the
result of some sort of accident involving a transporter or the phasing effect
we'd noted earlier."

Nien shakes her head, confusion playing across her features. "I don't
understand. How could something like this even manage to survive, much less
wage a battle and win?"

"I have no idea. The blood elements are... in theory... incompatible. For me,
at least, this entire thing churns up images of the ancient classic
_Frankenstein_."

Nien shoots him another confused look.

"It's a terran book. Very famous. I'm surprised you haven't heard of it
before."

"You humans write strange books. What about the dimensional shifting you'd
noticed earlier?"

"It's gone. But I went over the medical scanner logs, and I've put some thought
to it. I was hoping that it might just be a natural effect of the dimensional
rift on certain trace elements, but no material on the Phobos, either organic
or inorganic... at least that I've had access to and time to scan... has shown
any such effects. However, consider this. What if the whole crew and ship had
been phasing together. Assuming it was simultaneous, we'd have been unable to
notice it. In fact it would look like the rest of the universe was phasing in
and out around us. In short, it's all relative."

Nien nods, "I think I see what you're saying, but why would this be the case?"

"If we were in our home-universe, the blood might be trying to return to its.
Since we are in its universe, it's possible that we've been trying to return to
ours. Either way, the observed phenomenon would be identical."

Nien pauses, considering the doctor's thoughts. "It makes a certain amount of
sense, I suppose. Either way, though, the question's moot if the phasing effect
is no longer occurring. What about the barricading? We're the people in sickbay
trying to protect something?"

"Not unless it was Dr. Kirby's liquor stores. No, I think they were trying to
protect their own lives. One reason sickbay may have been chosen is that their
quarantine field could be enlarged. It would prevent beaming directly into
sickbay. I'm to understand from Lt. Bellasario that similar force fields were
found in the brig and cargo areas, some of which also showed signs of battle,
barricades, and forced entry."

"Makes sense. Where is Gunner, by the way?"

"Auxiliary control running final weapons diagnostics, last I heard."


Stardate 6003.16 at 1315 hours: USS Phobos, Auxiliary Control (Deck 6)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sure enough, Gunner is at the helm station alongside T'lar, toying with the
fire controls, fighting for elbow room, and desperately missing his brand new
tactical station aboard the Excalibur. He's so busy that he doesn't even notice
Nien as she steps off the turbolift, walks up to the helm station, and stands
directly behind him.

"Status report, Lieutenant."

"Sir!" he practically jumps out of his seat. "Uh... phasers, photon torpedoes,
and shields all functional, Captain."

"Very good. Assume the science station's sensor console until further notice.
Aboard this vessel, helm will be charged with the weapons."

"Aye sir."

"Lt. T'lar, you understand that we are not to deviate from the predetermined
flight vector."

"Yes sir. Lt. Bellasario has already made that clear."

Nien settles back in the command chair, as the Phobos propels itself toward
what could very well be its final destination.


Stardate 6003.16 at 1520 hours: USS Phobos, Auxiliary Control (Deck 6)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Positioned within the upper clouds of the system's gas giant, the Phobos
watches, unseen.

"Is indeed a Class-M. No moons, however, I am picking up one artificial
satellite... a ship of incredible size."

"On visual."

The ship is very odd, to say the least. Measuring some five hundred meters of a
side, it is perfectly cubic in shape.

Bellasario looks up again, "Picking up massive energy readings."

Nien can barely hear him. Instead, she stares ahead, unblinking, her eyes
focused on that big block of a starship in the forward viewer. A bare trickle
of perspiration forms silently along her bare scalp. Then she stands, walking
with purpose over to the Science Station, leaning around Bellasario to get her
hands on the controls. Punching a few keys on the station's analysis console,
she's runs a brief tactical simulation. With clear sight of the monitor,
Bellasario can see that it involves the destruction of the Phobos. She's trying
to get the computer to give her a best-guess as to whether or not a ramming
maneuver and the resulting antimatter containment breach at point blank would
destroy or incapacitate the alien vessel based on its observed power-curve.

Bellasario shakes his head slowly with the obvious conclusion that everyone
aboard the Phobos will certainly die if she goes through with the plan. When
she turns back and sees his expression, a strange smile forms on her lips.

"Don't worry, Lieutenant. We can prepare the shuttles and just have the whole
show proceed via remote control. Should make for nice fireworks. I'll bring the
marshmallows. You bring the booze. Wha'd'ya say?"

Gunner takes in what Nien is suggesting. "Sir, perhaps earlier in my life I
would've agreed with your way of solving our dilemma. However, Star Fleet has
taught me to place a bit more value on the lives of my fellow crew. What you
are suggesting could very easily get us all killed!"

Everyone within earshot turns around, each wondering precisely what has been
suggested.

"And what other choice do we have?"

"We could proceed cautiously. Attempt to communicate."

"Attempt to communicate?!? Lieutenant, they'll blow us out of space if we so
much as sneeze!"

"We don't even know if it's the same ship that attacked the Phobos! Sir, it is
ultimately your decision as to whether to pursue this course of action but I
must recommend against it!! And by the way, I cannot believe that you, a star
fleet commander, are willing to sacrifice all of the life forms aboard that
ship and, quite possibly, ours... for some plan we are not even sure would
eliminate our problem. We frankly have never seen this type of vessel before so
we have no idea how strong it is and what type of punishment it can take. Your
rather callous regard for the whole situation... roasting marshmallows...
troubles me to say the least!"

Nien blinks, realizing that her entire approach in talking to Bellasario has
failed miserably. She'd been hoping on taking him into her confidence for a
quite conversation, not this shouting match. Deciding that talk is pointless,
she turns back toward the science station.

"Lieutenant, you will program the ship's computer to accept an auto-destruct
command from either you or me. The command will be a single word. There will be
no verify sequence. It must be immediate. Am I clear?"

"With all due respect, Captain, the idea of being stranded in some unknown
corner of... of wherever we are... does not appeal to me!! If under direct
orders, I will comply, but this course of action you seem hell-bent on
pursuing..."

"That will be all, Lieutenant."

Bellasario reluctantly straightens to attention, spitting out an "Aye sir!"

Nien continues to plug away at the simulation, feigning obliviousness with
respect to the looks she it getting from the rest of the bridge crew. Each of
them are aware that their lives are forfeit should she make a hasty decision,
and she has already made it plain that she does not want a discussion on the
subject.

At point blank range, the computer estimates that some 60 to 70 percent of the
cubeship would be destroyed. The only problem is that it assumes construction
with known materials and technology, and a passive defense on the part of the
aliens.

Nien scowls as the results come in, "Damn computer." Then she looks back over
her shoulder, only to see Bellasario sweating up a storm. She turns back to the
business at hand. "We're going to have to get lucky. If the explosion breaks
their antimatter bottle, assuming they're using antimatter for energy, then the
damage will be much greater than this console is letting on."

Suddenly O'Neil steps out from the turbolift, perhaps called to the deck by a
worried crew member who easily overheard the recent dispute.

"Is it true, what I've heard?!"

She looks toward him, "I dunno. What have you heard?"

"That you want to blow up the ship! Damnit, Captain, I'm a doctor! Not a
suicidal maniac!"

Nien pauses, suddenly struck with deja-vu. "Look, Doctor. I've put some thought
to this. If we handle it just right, nobody has to commit suicide."

"Sir," Bellasario snaps, "The cubeship has just disappeared over the planetary
horizon. We can initiate active scans on the surface without being detected."

"Do it."

He presses a few buttons, eyes narrowing. "No technological architecture, but I
am picking up transporter carrier waves or something similar."

"On the surface?"

"Affirmative. Also picking up life forms at the same location on the surface.
There seems to be about fifty humans and... maybe two dozen other unidentified
life forms. Uh... wait. Detecting a protonic field of some sort. It seems to be
surrounding the cluster of humans. Scans unable to penetrate at this range. I
am now scanning one human outside the field."

Nien looks toward the doctor as if to ask what he makes of the new
intelligence. O'Neil leans against a control panel, "We should probably move in
for a closer look, Captain."

"They'd detect us once we get too close. Even a planetary body won't stop
impulse emissions. Not if they're close enough."

"Then we can go on manuevering thrusters."

"It'll take half an hour. We can't bank on that kind of luck. We have to go
with plan A. Lt. T'lar, plot a course for the ramming maneuver."

"Aye sir."

"Now wait just a damn minute!" O'Neil pleads. "Let's think about what we're
dealing with here before we get too suicidal."

"Suicidal?!" Nien retorts. "When a Tamarian glow-fly decides to sting you,
thereby ripping its guts out in the process, it isn't suicide. It's a tactical
sacrifice in order to achieve a strategic objective, the protection of its
nest. As much as I hate to be compared to a glow-fly, it would seem that our
situation is very much the same."

"The situation is not the same at all. First off, are we even sure that this
ship is the same one that attacked the Phobos?"

Nien frowns, looking away from him.

"Well... we're not sure, are we," O'Neil states. "And if we assume it is the
same one, and we turn out to be wrong, we'd be making a serious mistake.
Wouldn't we."

"This is no mistake."

"Maybe. But maybe not. Captain, I think we should find out exactly what we are
dealing with here."

Bellasario looks up, "I have to agree with the Doctor, sir."

"You've already made you feelings clear, Lieutenant."

"Sir, I request permission to try and lead a boarding party aboard the
cubeship."

"Now wait a second, Lieutenant," O'Neil cracks a smirk. "If someone beamed onto
OUR ship, we'd be all over them like a cheap suit. Am I right?"

"Uh... yes sir. That's one way of putting it."

"So I think it's safe to say that what you suggest isn't a useful option.
Instead, why don't we send an away team out on a shuttle to the planet? We
could seize the opportunity right now, since the alien vessel is on the other
side of the planet. Once down on the surface, we could investigate the humans
and aliens that are there, and then base any further actions on what we
observe. Would the power emissions from a shuttle be obvious?"

"No," Nien states. "But they would find the shuttle eventually, and when they
did, they'd conduct an intensive sensor sweep of the area, and they'd find the
Phobos, and I think you all know what would happen then."

Bellasario looks up, "Sir, that human... he's no longer... I don't know sir.
It's like he was there one second, and now he's gone. There does seem to be one
more alien, however."

Nien blinks, "Are they transporting people between the surface and their
cubeship?"

"No sir. It's like the human I was scanning just... turned into an alien."

Nien turns slowly back toward O'Neil. "They aren't killing them. They could
have done that already. No... they wanted live ones. Damnit... it all makes
sense." Nien looks up from the tactical console, regarding O'Neil and
Bellasario with all the good humor she can muster (which isn't much). "Don't
you see? The blood... a composite of many species... you yourself said it was a
sign of genetic tampering. Those bastards didn't even take the ship. All they
wanted was the crew." Nien slams a fist on the console, eliciting a string of
bleeps and buzzes from the computer. "We go waltzing out there and they won't
merely kill us. They'll do much worse than that. We can sit around and ponder
why, debate the moral implications of a first strike, but I doubt it'll do us a
whole lot of good. The fact remains that the Phobos was attacked, it's crew
kidnapped for purposes of induction into who knows what. Maybe it's their
method of reproduction. No doubt they'll learn a great deal about the
Federation from their new recruits. Gentlemen, the time for investigation is at
an end. It is now time for war. T'lar, I want a torpedo prepared for jettison.
Include a copy of the current log so that any ships following us will benefit
from the information we've gathered. Bellasario, is the self-destruct sequence
on single-word activation yet?"

"Yes sir."

"What is it?"

"If I told you out loud, we wouldn't live for very long."

Nien smiles and nods, "Write it down on something."

"Aye sir."

"Captain," Dr. O'Neil starts again, "I concede that the situation on the planet
doesn't look very good. Nonetheless, we don't have proof that the humans are
actually being killed or mutated or god knows what. It is possible that the
humans are being transferred to some underground facility that we are unable to
detect."

Nien casts him a sidelong glace, completely unimpressed.

Realizing that he's not scoring points, O'Neil switches to a different tact.
"Okay, Nien, just hear me out. If we stay in constant contact with the away
team, and they are captured, then we can immediately initiate more drastic
measures such as your ramming scheme, for instance."

"By that point, they'd already be aware of our presence."

"So what?!"

"I am reminded of an old saying... as technology increases linearly, the value
of surprise in combat increase exponentially. Until we are detected, we have
surprise on our side. At that precise moment, it is lost, and then we have
nothing on our side. Have you ever studied tactics, Doctor."

"I can't say that I have."

"Well I have. Believe me, I don't relish going into battle. And I am very much
afraid of sacrificing this ship and our lives unnecessarily. However, given the
information that we have, I have no choice but to conclude that the Phobos was
attacked by that alien vessel for the very purpose of stealing and genetically
inducting humans into the 'composite blood' of their species. I may be
reaching, but given the clues we have so far... the missing crew members, the
composite blood, the shifting racial ratio on that planet... it is my opinion
that the best course of action entails the application of surprise in combat in
order to protect the interests and the security of the Federation."

"The interests and security of the Federation?!"

"Yes. Just think how dangerous this race of aliens could become to the
Federation with the knowledge of the officers and crew of this starship. We've
already seen how efficiently they are able to incapacitate a Federation
vessel... albeit via the proper application of surprise. Try multiplying that
efficiency by a large number, and that's what we'll be dealing with."

O'Neil shrugs, a sense of hopelessness confronting him. "You're not going to
change your mind on this, are you?"

"Highly doubtful."

"Then what is it... exactly... that you are proposing?"

"The plan is this. The warp drive will be brought up to full as all non-
essential crew remove themselves from the Phobos via the shuttles."

"All non-essential crew? Is that some sort of code word you've invented?"

"Only one person need stay behind to execute a ramming maneuver."

"And who precisely did you have in mind, Captain?"

Nien looks toward him, "Well, since it's my plan..."

T'Lar, silent until now, stands up and turns around. "With all due respect,
sir, you are not an expendable member of the crew by any reasonable definition
I can construct; thus, you are the worst possible candidate to pilot the craft.
I, on the other hand, am fully trained on the specifics on this vessel, making
me a superior pilot in this situation. In addition, I am considerably more
expendable than you are."

Nien, unimpressed, looks back, "Is that all, Lieutenant?"

"No sir," T'lar placidly returns her Captain's gaze with unshakable Vulcan
calm. "As you know, I was aboard this ship during the attack. You may not be
aware that my psionic index is considerable, even for my species." She pauses.
"Those who died, sir... I felt them, every one of them... people I've known on
a first name basis for..." Something flickers in her eye. "Every one screaming
horribly, sir." She looks at the rest of the officers. "Even a Vulcan is not
made of stone, no matter how we pretend. With your permission, I would formally
request to be the one to vaporize the entire lot of them."

Nien's jaw drops half way to her knees as the vulcan goes back to her work
calmly, computer lights flickering over her utterly composed, rigid face.

"Request noted" is all that the acting-Captain is able to stammer.

"Come to think of it," O'Neil guesses, "we could probably program to the
computer to carry out your plan, and just execute it remotely... not that I'm
in favor your plan, but as long as you're going to do it, you might as well do
it as intelligently as possible."

Nien nods, "Suggestion noted. But I won't leave the ship unmanned for more than
a few seconds. T'lar, begin programming your helm station to accept a remote
command to execute the ramming maneuver."

"Aye sir."

"Then we'll arrive at the planet via shuttle, attempt to rescue whatever humans
might still be rescuable, and take-out opportunistic targets as they present
themselves. With luck, a great deal of it, a Star Fleet vessel will find the
comm-torp which I instructed T'lar to prepare. Is it ready, Lieutenant?"

"Yes sir. Ready to jettison at a moment's notice."

"Good. Hopefully, somebody will find it, and we'll be retracted from the planet
in fair health, and with the knowledge that we defeated or at least set-back an
enemy of the Federation."

O'Neil shakes his head, "So set on your plan that you're blind to it's flaws."

"No I'm not. I'm fully aware that it has flaws."

"Why don't you enumerate them for me."

Nien pauses, then sits back. "As you wish. The first, and most obvious, is that
I could be completely misinterpreting our situation. That the facts, such as
they are, might be leading me into a confrontational mission when that is not
the true nature of the situation. At worse case, my plan could turn a potential
federation ally into a federation foe. Secondly, even assuming that the proper
course of action is a direct confrontation, there is no certainty that my plan
will work. It will take only a moment at warp speed to reach the alien vessel,
during which time the Phobos could be captured in a tractor beam. It is
unlikely, but since we have never encountered this 'race' before. Who is to say
what is unlikely and what isn't?"

"And third?"

"And third... even assuming that we can ram them, their destruction is not
assured. The computer tells me that by rupturing our anti-matter containment
field, we'll probably generate enough explosive energy to destroy 60-70% of the
alien vessel. My only hope is that this 60-70% will contain their antimatter
containment field, assuming they have one, and that the additional explosion
generated will finish the job."

O'Neil humphs, "A lot of assumptions, don't you think?"

"Call it a calculated risk. Gunner? T'lar? Last chance to put your foot where
your mouth is."

O'Neil studies the tactical display, "Foot where you mouth is? I didn't think
my ideas were THAT unreasonable, Captain."

"Oh, it's an old Deltan expression. The foot is the means of transport. So, to
put one's foot in one's mouth is to speak succinctly and with great courage,
such that a person might step forward and lead by the wisdom of their voice
alone. Thus we have the proverb 'Golodh palantir cheba husdalmo lambenu': the
wisest prophet keeps an extra pair of sandals under his tongue. However, this
probably isn't the time to be talking of such things."

O'Neil winces, wondering whether Nien is trying to feed him a line. "You forgot
one thing, Captain."

"What's that?"

"General Order 8. I'm not one to quote regulations, but when all else fails...
the regs are all you've got. We aren't even in Federation territory. We're in
the supposed neutral zone of a mirror-universe. Just re-read it... and think
about it. If you're decision is the same... then I'll shut-up." He tries to
grin. "C'mon... if you can't trust your own doctor, who can you trust?"


Administrivia:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

General Order 8  (August 2196)  <Pilfered from FASA's, _The Federation_>

Upon sighting of a warship within Federation space and identifying it as
belonging to a foreign power, the commander of the Star Fleet vessel shall
determine the reason(s) for that craft's presence in the vicinity. If there is
conclusive evidence that the vessel has hostile intentions, the Federation
vessel may take appropriate action to safeguard the lives and property of
Federation members. In such cases, the commander may use his discretion in
deciding whether to use force to disable the hostile vessel. However, care
should be taken to avoid unnecessary loss of sentient life.


Stardate 6003.16 at 1520 hours: USS Phobos, Administrative Office (Deck 6)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Captain's log, supplemental. I now face the most difficult quandary of my
career. If I order this attack, not only would the Phobos be destroyed, but the
Federation might be sucked into an unnecessary war with, by all our
estimations, a technologically superior adversary. The reason... a lack of
information, lack of conclusive evidence that this ship before us is
responsible for the attack upon the Phobos. Even assuming they did do it... we
still don't know why. I have my theories, of course, but nothing firm, nothing
that would stand up to General Order 8.

"If I go by the book, if I follow it to the letter as Dr. O'Neil seems to be
suggesting, then I cannot order this attack. Yet every fiber of tactical
training... every sensibility in my soul tells me that I must give this
order... that this blatant assault cannot go unavenged.

"Two of my officers have advised against such a course, both of them most stern
in their opposition. Their arguments are staked as clearly as any idealistic
contention... so free of ambiguity, or perhaps it is due to this uncertainty
that they make their pleas. When in doubt, follow the rules. That's the comfort
of rules, I suppose. Yet, while it is important to follow them, it is twice as
important to know when not to follow them. There are not merely the lives of
the boarding expedition but also all that remains of this ship's original crew
including one peeved Vulcan. Many people to consider, and many of them, in all
probability, help captive. I cannot bear to think upon what is happening to
them. And yet, I sit here, indecisive... because of a rule... and because of
the reasons behind that rule.

"I find myself somehow reminded of an ancient war narrowly averted. When the
andorians first met a terran exploratory vessel, not too much unlike the
Phobos, they had the gall to fire upon it. If not for the cool diplomacy of
vulcan leaders, that one incident could have cost millions of lives. Instead,
Andor became a member of the then informal Federation only two years later... a
friend instead of an enemy.

"If we cannot learn from these lessons of history, what more are we than
animals in spacesuits? Against all instincts... I will take the risk for peace.
I pray it is not a fool's mission."


Stardate 6003.16 at 1558 hours: USS Phobos, Auxiliary Control (Deck 6)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nien enters auxiliary control, all eyes turning toward her.

"Lt. T'lar, jettison the comm-torp now."

"Aye sir."

"And chart a new approach vector to the class-M. We will NOT be going with plan
A. Ahead, full impulse. Drop to thrusters when we are within ten million
kilometers. Gunner, take us to condition red. Doctor, you may be needed in
sickbay rather soon. I suggest you make preparations."


                      _   /|        Jim Vassilakos
                      \`o_O'        [e-mail]
                        ( )         [e-mail]
                         U          Riverside, California

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 This Star Trek PBeM is archived on ftp.cs.pdx.edu in pub/frp/stories/startrek
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