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Text File | 1994-09-10 | 16KB | 371 lines

******************************************************************************* Star Trek: Play by E-Mail The Forbidden Years Campaign Write-up =============================================================================== Adventure #1 Flight of the Phobos ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Turn #2 A Place Called Hell =============================================================================== Copyright 1993 Jim Vassilakos / All Rights Reserved ******************************************************************************* Cast & Crew ST-PBeM GameMaster Jim Vassilakos Dr. O'Neil Mark Hammel Lt. Bellasario Alan Ward Lt. T'lar Ronnie Simonds Stardate 6003.16 at 1810 hours: Planetary Surface ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If not for the thick haze of geothermal vapor crouching amidst the stench of sulfur, Gunner imagines that he might be able to make out the aliens in greater detail. As it is, all he catch are vague glimpses of their ashen-white faces and the black metallic armor which they wear, armor which apparently includes some form of particle cannon which protrudes from their right arms. He takes another short gulp of the foggy alien air as his communicator vibrates silently in its belt sheath. Flipping open the protector flap and cutting volume to one- quarter, he can barely hear Chief Watson's calm voice, "Phobos to team one. Awaiting correction coordinates for team number two." "Standby Phobos." Gunner licks his lips, looking toward the others in his party. Janson, the blond muscle-bound black-belt from Melbourne and a fine security officer, takes in his stare. "You know my advice, sir. I say we beam the other teams behind those mounds and then attack for all we're worth. Has to be better than waiting until we're discovered." "I'm not entirely certain we haven't been." Gunner looks toward Barclay, the pudgy-faced medic from Yorkshire. Barclay just shrugs, "I'm not much one to advise, sir." "Do it anyway." The crewman looks alarmed, then a bit confused, being asked advice from an officer. "Well... uh... we don't know a damn thing about them, do we... and from the look of those spam-jobs on their arms, the less we find out, me-thinks the better. We can try to beam out the survivors and just make like the dickens out of here. No sense fighting what we don't understand." He looks with a faint sense of dread toward Janson, "At least, that's how I see it." Gunner turns toward Lieutenant T'lar, the Vulcan who dared to show emotion. She doesn't seem in the least hurried now, but recalling the murderous rage in her smoldering eyes when she asked the Captain for permission to 'vaporize the entire lot', he can guess well enough what her advice might be. "How about it, Lieutenant. Is it feasible?" She shakes her head, "We can transport a maximum of fifteen of the captives at once, assuming they use the emergency transporter's pattern buffer for ship-to- surface, freeing up tranporter one for surface-to-ship. However, tricorder readings indicate that the majority of the captives are surrounded by some type of force field. Matrix analysis suggests that there is a 98.728% chance the field will block transporter carrier waves." "Theories on disabling the field?" "Tricorder scans are picking up what appear to be rods at each of its corners. Metallic alloy composition. They appear to be sustaining it." "Take out the rods, and no more force field, eh?" T'lar nods, "So it would seem, however, timing is critical. The field itself appears to be composed of a highly elastic protonic energy current. If we disable just one rod, the field will sweep backward to the closest two rods like a rubber band and form a diagonal strip between them. Everyone caught within the triangular area of the sweep will be exposed to massive, possibly lethal, doses of proton radiation." "Is there any way to rupture the field?" "We'll need to disable at least two rods simultaneously." Gunner shakes his head, "And even then, all those people will be sitting ducks to their twenty laser cannons. With shields on a one to one flicker ratio, we can't hope to beam them out fast enough." T'lar raises an eyebrow at this comment, "Nine, sir." "What?" "Nine laser cannons. The eleven which are closest to us... I sense confusion from them." "Explain." "It is as though their minds are fighting assimilation into a more powerful consciousness. Their indoctrination, I suppose." "Indoctrination?" "The aliens think with one mind, sir. I'm almost certain of it. Their core consciousness is trying to overpower the weaker individual psyches of those they have physically converted into their own form." She points toward the dual rows of aliens, standing as though at attention, yet not participating in any sort of duty. Gunner chews a lip, "But like you said, that still leaves with us with the other nine. Lieutenant, are you capable of creating a diversion to get their attention?" "A diversion, sir?" "Telepathically... do you think you can communicate with them somehow... create some sort of distraction while we take those rods out of commission." "I'd have to get a great deal closer to them." "There's no chance?" "As you are no doubt aware, the Vulcan mind-meld requires direct physical contact. I'd have to sneak up to one of them. I could conceivably learn a great deal about their entire society... even from one of those currently undergoing mental indoctrination." Gunner shakes his head, "No... that's not exactly what I had in mind." "Perhaps if we transport the one they are currently operating on... his sudden dematerialization may provide us with a brief moment of surprise." "He's already enveloped in some sort of transporter wave. Inserting another may kill him." T'lar nods, "He is but one of many." "I'm not prepared to choose sacrificial lambs, Lieutenant." "Lambs, sir?" "Never mind." He swings the communicator flap open, "Bellasario to Phobos." "Phobos here." "Chief, we've got a fine mess down here. We have over thirty human and non- human captives at the mercy of these beasts. I recommend that team two requisition some heavy ordinance. When they are ready, beam them fifty-eight meters from our current position, heading fifty-five degrees north. Inform me when they are in position. Put team three at fifty-five meters, heading negative ten degrees north. And put team four on our coordinates." "Aye sir." Within two minutes, all four teams are dirtside. Gunner opens a channel to Watson, "Chief... who's manning the transporter upstairs?" "Sullivan in TR-1 and Jacobs is on deck six." "Okay, your team will be firing on the three aliens closest to your position. Kid gloves are off. Phasers set to kill. Understood? We don't know how these beings will react once they find out we're here." "Ready and awaiting your signal. Team three on stand-by." Gunner twists a dial on his communicator, "Team two. Come in." "Yeah, Parker here." Gunner smiles remembering how he had to twist Captain Dyson's arm (literally) in order to get Parker transferred to the Excalibur. He'd known Parker for four years aboard the Defiant. If anything described the African-American, it was tough and bullheaded... particularly when it came to doing his job. "Tom, I want your team to disable the metallic rods at the two nearest corners of the force field." "Not a problem." "Yes it is. They have to go simultaneously. A fraction of a second in separation is enough to kill half the people in there. You understand?" "Not a problem, Theo. Waiting for your mark. Team two on stand-by." Gunner closes his communicator. O'Neil is standing next to him, two spheres of hazel-green staring him in the face. "Don't suppose you could fill me in, Lieutenant." "Take a look for yourself." As O'Neil peers around the mound, he can see a transporter beam shimmer out. In its wake, one of the aliens hangs by a series of metallic bars which protrude from a long console. Several of them unfasten their comrade and walk him slowly over to a number of the others who stand still and silent. Meanwhile, a nude unconscious woman is strapped into the area the alien had just occupied, and his comrades return to their place at the control controls. "What's going on?" Gunner points to the alien, now standing still amongst eleven of his brethren. "That was a human male not more than three minutes ago. They turned him into one of them." "We have to stop this." "They're going to activate that device very soon, I imagine." He flips his communicator back open. "Landing party to Sullivan." "You got her." "Penny, scan for a large object at thirty-two meters, almost zero degrees north." "Yeah, got a fix. It was emitting some sort of transporter emissions only a minute ago." "I know. Just pick it up." "What?" "Energize, dammit." "The whole thing?" "Lock, stock and barrel." "Uh... yessir." As the device (including the woman who is secured to it) becomes enveloped by transporter beams, the aliens fall back from it. Instantly, teams two and three emerge from hiding and begin firing phasers. Gunner steps forward and begins firing also, trying to avoid hitting the alien device still in transport. He notices several more beams shooting from behind and to the right, snaking out and hitting several of the aliens at their backs. Meanwhile, he sees T'lar racing forward on his left, using the two motionless ranks of "alien-recruits" as cover. Tactical Map: *** $ **^**H J *** ^ ^ ^ ............. @ .t hhhhhhh . F u u .hhh hhhhh . *** %%% @ .h hhhhhhh . **^** @ %%% @ . hhh hhh . *** . v c. G @ @ ............. uuuuuuuuuuu ! ^ E uuuuuuuuuuu B ^ (h = human, u = unknown, t = tellarite, v = vulcan, ^ c = calainian, . = force barrier, * = mound of earth, ^ = geyser) D **** A **^*** K 0 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 **** C L |____|____|____|____|____|____|____|____| M Scale of Meters ^ % = Area under transport N @ = Alien getting hit by phaser fire Directions: W+E ! = Alien getting electrocuted S $ = Human getting vaporized Team #1: Team #2: (A) Lt. "Gunner" Bellasario (Security) (E) Crewman Tom Parker (Security) (B) Lt. T'lar (Helm) (F) Crewman Liz Wilder (Security) (C) Ensign Don Janson (Security) (G) Ensign Charlene Rehorn (Medical) (D) Crewman Terry Barclay (Medical) Team #3: Team #4: (H) Chief Watson (Engineering) (K) Lt. Cmdr. Jacob O'Neil (Medical) (I) Crewman Cheryl Kruger (Engineering) (L) Lt. Darla Reeko (Medical) (J) Crewman Bill Tolavar (Engineering) (M) Ensign John Sanders (Medical) The aliens are taken by complete surprise, the combined landing party managing to shoot six of the nine before the other two even begin firing back. Then Cheryl Krugar is hit, however, not by any weapon Gunner has ever seen before. Their particle cannon is more like a plasma-thrower. An incredible burst of noise is emitted as Cheryl's flesh is utterly consumed and her crackling bones scatter along the moist alien terrain. Her skeleton bursts with such force that the individual bones act as a sort of shrapnel, and Chief Watson falls to the ground screaming, apparently hit by skeletal fragments. True to form, the other twelve "alien-recruits" maintain their state of confusion, silent and unmoving, not even acknowledging the carnage around them. T'lar, who has finally reached one of them, places her hand upon its forehead. The alien's eyes open, it's grainy metallic voice spitting forth it's first words: "Resistance is futile! Resistance is futile!" T'lar falls away from it, almost as though the force of its will threw her backward, and it begins raising its plasma cannon as she gets back to her feet. It stops just as it is about to let loose, however, as though some part of the person it used to be is desperately fighting to hold fire. The force field comes down, a blast of plasma scathing past Parker as he dives to the ground, his phaser still leveled on one of the rods. Then, as it bursts into fragments, he switches his aim and lets the alien have it. There's a problem, however. As though protected by some form of green light, his phaser fire ripples off it, and not one scratch is done to the alien. "Tom, get out of there now!" Gunner sees his old friend follow orders better than he's ever followed orders in his entire career, running behind the geyser mound at a speed incomprehensible save to a few warp physicists scattered throughout the Federation. However, the blue-skinned Calainian who'd been among the captives lets a lightning bolt rip from her outstretched arms. Gunner and O'Neil have seen such attacks in holographic training videos, but never in real life, so rare are the Calainians. The bolt descends upon the black-armored alien, encircling it and invading its cybernetic systems until the electricity finally dissipates, leaving the creature in a smoldering heap of dead electronics and fried flesh. Gunner breaks out his communicator. "Transporter rooms, come in!" "Jacobs here." "Beam up the congregation of people! Uh... forty meters at forty-five degrees! Got it!?" His answer comes in a shimmering pattern of transporter carrier waves. "Thank god." Gunner turns back toward the two aliens who are still fighting. Each has been hit several times already, however, they seem to have personal shields just like the one Parker attacked. Each time they are hit, they become surrounded by a green glow, and then they emerge without a scratch. Luckily, they do not seem to be able to fire while their shields are active, meaning that the more they get hit, the less often and the less accurately they are able to return fire. "Sir!" T'lar comes stumbling forward, pointing back toward the two rows of a dozen motionless aliens, "The recruits... it's only a matter of seconds before they start attacking us!" O'Neil can see Ensign Sanders, one of his medical staff, unbuckling a photon grenade from his holster. Such weapons are known to completely devastate an area of well over a hundred meters radius. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Ensign?! That thing will kill us all!" "Not if we beam out of here, sir! I'm setting this for twenty seconds! Requesting permission to cast object!" _ /| Jim Vassilakos \`o_O' jimv@cs.ucr.edu ( ) jimv@wizards.com U Riverside, California ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- This Star Trek PBeM is archived on ftp.cs.pdx.edu in pub/frp/stories/startrek -----------------------------------------------------------------------------