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1995-08-20
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Path: moe.ksu.ksu.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!rphroy!caen!sdd.hp.com!swrinde!ringer!lonestar.utsa.edu!lmathews
From: lmathews@lonestar.utsa.edu (Leanthony R. Mathews)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: STORY: Hour of the Wolf- Chapter 1
Message-ID: <1992Dec24.181341.23803@ringer.cs.utsa.edu>
Date: 24 Dec 92 18:13:41 GMT
Sender: news@ringer.cs.utsa.edu
Organization: University of Texas at San Antonio
Lines: 134
Nntp-Posting-Host: lonestar.utsa.edu
This is my first try at writing one of these stories.
I need suggestions from any and all who read my first chapter.
Warning up front. These stories will be rated R because I believe
that to have a good story you have get into the characters head as
well as there bed. Tell me what you think.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Star Trek The Next Generation
"Hour of the Wolf"
Chapter One:
The soothing sounds of a Vulcan Lyrette fill a 12 by 10 dorm
room as the light from the setting sun slowly begins to retreat.
Sitting in the far corner of the room is cadet Wesley Crusher.
He impatiently types a letter to his mother, whom it seems he
has not seen for a life time.
"Dear Mom,
I tried Yesterday to reach you by subspace but the
Enterprise is out of communications range. Well, I just finished
my finial exam in History and I think I go an 'A' but my teacher,
Prof Emersin, seems to hate my guts. Why you ask? Well that's
what I've been wanting to tell you. I met a girl. Her name is
Catala. She is from Betazoid, she is 22, and she's the professors
daughter.
I.."
Cutting thought the serine mood of his corders, the distinct
sound of the communications hail is heard. Wesley abruptly stops
his brisk typing pace. "Yes."
A beautifully soft feminine voice, which could easily match
the tone of the Lyrette, replies, "Hi Wes. What Are you doing?"
Wesley's facial expression quickly changes from a blank
emotionless state, to one would seen on a school boy who just
received a new toy. " I, I'm typing a letter to my mother aboard
the Enter.."
The once soft voice, now with an urgent tone, abruptly cuts
Wesley off. "Wes meet me at Starfleet Tactical at 2000 hours. Ok?"
With a startled look of surprise Wesley cautiously says,
"Why?"
"I'll tell you when I get there," she responds. "It's a
surprise. Gotta go now. Bye honey!"
The end of call beep echoes through the room.
With only the sound from the Lyrette playing, the perplexed
Wesley Crusher slowly turns back to his terminal. With half of his
thoughts still on the brief exchange he just had with Catala, the
other half somehow manages to finish the equally brief letter to
his mother.
" Captains Log:
StarDate: 2438.62
The Enterprise is proceeding at warp 7.6 to Starbase 12 for
urgently needed repairs to our Deflector Shields. Damage caused by
an ion storm encountered near outpost 8 have left the Enterprises
forward shields at 63 percent and her aft shields at 76 percent.
Our prompt resupply efforts of outpost 6,7,8 will make the time
needed for repairs negligible. Estimated time of arrival: 1.3
days.
On a lighter note: My crew and I are looking forward to
receiving this years StarFleet Academy interns. I'm sure my
seniors officers will make there brief stay here very memorable."
Captain Jean-Luc Picard slowly leans back in his chair
intensely glaring at the terminal screen before him. I sense of
despair silently tugs at his thoughts. He contemplates if not for
the deflector repairs the Enterprise could have used the two extra
days to follow up on the reported Rumullian activity near the
Neutral Zone.
The Captain leans forward clasping his chin between his right
thumb and index finger making his glare stare even more intense.
As his thoughts slowly begin to stray, the sounds of the door
sensor quickly bring him back to reality.
"Come!", he confidently says as his position stays motionless.
"Good Afternoon Captain." female voice replied.
The very familiar voice immediately brings Captain Picard to
attention. Straightening himself up he responded, "Beverly, What
a surprise. I didn't expect to see you to see you until dinner."
With a sense of urgency she enters the room walking directly
in front of Picards desk. "I just wanted to let you know that
Wesley will be joining the interns when we reach Starbase 12."
"Good, It will be good to have Wesley back in the Helms."
With a slow pause the Captain suddenly realizes that the doctor
does not share his feelings. "Whats wrong Beverly you seem like you
don't want Wesley to come back."
Slowly turning around walking in a circle she replies, "It's
not that Jean-Luc, just I wanted to spend as much time as possible
with Wesley when he comes."
"And you will, his ship duties will only take a few hours the
rest of the day is his."
"That's what scares me." Walking in another circle she
continues, "It seems Wes has found himself a girlfriend."
With a look of amusement Picard leans back in his chair.
"I checked the incoming duty roster and she will be coming
along with the interns." Finishing the arc in her circle she stops
dead center in front of Picards desk as if ready to attack if he
utters the incorrect words.
With a large smile he cautiously starts to speak "Beverly...."
Instantly Commanders Rikers Voice is heard of the intercom.
"Captain. Long range sensors have Picked up what seem to be some
type of Borg footprint"
With a silent sight of relief Picard responds, "On my way
number one!" He quickly rises and walks toward the door avoiding
Beverly's eyes say, "Lets continue this discussion at dinner" When
he reaches the opening doors he turns and meets her piercing stare.
"Don't worry Beverly."
Walking past him she says "I can't help it. He's my son" She
keeps on walking up the sloping platform and into the elevator and
off the bridge.
With a sense of relief Picard walks Toward his awaiting first
officer. Touching him on the shoulder he quietly whispers, "I owe
you one." Quickly he takes his place at the Captains chair. "What
the situation number one?"
Riker standing beside him he says, "Data has picked up what
seem to be some sort of Borg engine footprint"
"Data, How long ago where they here?"
"17.2301 Hours ago Sir." Data Replies without decreasing his
activities at Helms.
"Can you compute the direction they are heading?" , the
Captain says.
"Working............." Data sits motionless for a few seconds
as the whole crew literally hold there collective breath awaiting
the reply they most dreaded. "If my calculations are correct the
Borg are headed to the Sol System."
In Two weeks: Picard has dinner. Wes gets laid. nuff said.
If you like it let me know why. If you didn't like it let me know
why. Please be critical and suggest helpful things not flames.
lmathews@lonestar.utsa.edu