Danny Amor's Online Library/Danny Amor's Online Library - Volume 1.iso/html/startrek/old-incomplete/nosushi.p2

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From: [e-mail] (Armin Lenz Hiwi Woehlke)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: STORY: No Sushi pt. 2
Date: 15 Jul 1993 17:28:00 GMT
Organization: University of Karlsruhe, FRG
Lines: 433
Distribution: world
Message-ID: <[e-mail]>
NNTP-Posting-Host: i60s28.ira.uka.de


No, I am _not_ shouting. It's my mail announcing officer.
After a rather technical part now to some trekkin' ...

This story copyrighted 1993 by Armin Lenz.
Feel free to distribute via all electronic media for non-commercial purposes.
Standard disclaimers to protect the innocent and Paramount Pictures are valid.
If you sell it you pay for it. This way or another..

No Sushi

Part II

  Dark shade in dark shades. Silent, deliberate movement. Cold eye of a shark.
Hunting. Lurking. Sensing prey.

***

  Tweedledup. "Come!", Captain Clayton said. He had just gotten up and as
always, felt a little disorientated and dizzy. Absent-minded he pulled his
uniform into a kind of proper shape. His quarter's door opened and revealed
the slender figure of Lt. M'Dane.

  "Am I disturbing you?" she asked, amused by the looks of her commanding
officer.

  "Not at all. Please come in and take a seat. I'll soon be ready for whatever
you may suggest." He sneaked into his toilet and tried to comb his hair.

  "Anything I can do for you, Jessica?" his voice came through the door, "or
just a friendly visit to remind me of any recent offensive behaviour?"

  "None of the above", she smiled, "just my concern about your general
condition."

  "Ooops! I _should_ have taken a counselor aboard, shouldn't I?"

  "There's no need for a counselor with a five-dozen head crew. And as your
personal advantage there is still me. No, it's just ..."

  "... my lacking charm."

  "No. I mean yes. No - you appear uneasy. You're not the man I used to know.
Something's disturbing you, driving you mad."

  "No man is the man you knew. It's personal evolution."

  "Nonsense, Jeffrey. We are too close to make me believe such ..." He came
out of the little cabin, his looks improved but concerned.

  "You mean 'bullshit'. You're right. I feel uneasy for staying alive when
Phil died", he slowly confessed, "I feel guilty for standing here with those
families suffering the losses of beloved ones. I start to hate myself for
having to play the tough guy. To play 'life goes on'".

  "You don't have to play 'life goes on'. It simply does by itself", she said,
"You need not feel guilty for something you couldn't predict, couldn't prevent.
I know this happened to you before. I mean, the loss of lives under your
command. Why do you take it so hard this time?"

  "They were my friends, Phil and Flagg. You cannot work close together for more
than two years on a small ship like this without getting mad - or making
friends. And then they died, without sense, without use." He made a small
gesture of frustration. "I hate feeling helpless."

  "They were our friends, too, you know? And you playing the 'tough guy' helps
us a little to get along with it." She locked her gaze with his. When he broke
contact, she stood up and went through the door. There was nothing more she
could do for him now.

***

  Turbolift One opened it's doors to the bridge. Clayton stepped out and took
a taxing glance at main screen. Lt. M'Dane rose from his command chair and
went to her console.

  "Status?", he asked, taking a seat.

  "All readings nominal. No special occurences. Lt. DiFalco is down in sickbay."

  "Sickbay?"

  "He looked a little ill", Ensign Fariano said, shrugging her shoulders and
trying to hide a smile.

  "Ensign", he responded, "for your and our engineers sake I hope we'll not
look that way later, too." He touched his com-badge. "Engineering?"

  "Yes, Sir?" Cmdr. Nigh'Dar answered.

  "Your status, Mr. Nigh'Dar. How far did you get?"

  "We are ready for a first run, sir. I would suggest to take her to warp 1.5
and then slowly proceed to warp 9.35. We will have to do adjustments in order to
fine-tune our warp field structure to match our previous simulations. When we
are done we'll have to discuss our further proceedings."

  "That's fine with me. Mr. Thulet, set a course that will take us into free
space. Mr. Nigh'Dar, you may start and continue acceleration suiting your
needs. Please keep us informed."

  "Aye, Captain. May I make another suggestion?"

  "Of course, Commander, anytime you feel like it."

  "Commander Hartley is off-shift now, but I think he would be strongly
interested in supervising engine performance." There was a second of silence on
the other end, then Clayton cleared his throat.

  "Thank you of reminding me, Mr. Nigh'Dar. Ensign Fariano, please call our
first officer. Tell him, I would like him to join, hmmm, engineering crew for a
first test run. If he doesn't mind beeing disturbed off-duty."

  "Cmdr. Hartley told me he's on his way, Sir", she said, amusement in her eyes.

  "I bet he is", Clayton murmured.

  "Sir?"

  "Nothing, Ensign, nothing. Please take us to yellow alert and tell the crew
what we are going to do." There was a humming noise and little alert signs all
over the ship went yellow.

  "Sir? We are ready now."

  "Course laid in. There is nothing in our way." Ensign Thulet announced.

  "Mr. Hartley - engage!" Clayton said. M'Dane took a quick look back over her
shoulder and saw him crossing his fingers, his eyes closed for seconds.

  "Warp One point five." The starfield on the big screen extended to thin lines,
passing by on every side.

  "Warp 2." Bridge was silent as the grave. Clayton could hardly concentrate
on his need to breath. Then - to his dislike - he discovered himself biting his
lower lip.

  "Warp 3..."

***

  Dark shade hunting. Needlepins of light floating by. Unsuspecting prey, too
slow to escape. Too weak to struggle hard. Thin skin to rip open, tear apart.

***

  "... Warp 7." A humming noise, gentle but audible started from nowhere.

  "Seven point five. Everything fine, Sir. We are below expected deviation."

  "Proceed." The humming sound's pitch grew without getting any louder.

  "Warp 8. Eight Five. Eight Seven. Watch that fluctuation, Mr. Malloy! Yes.
Fix it like this. We don't want it to oscillate. Could tear the ship apart like
nothing."

  "What's going on?" Clayton asked, his voice husky with tension.

  "We had an insignificant burst of energy, Sir. Nothing dangerous."

  "Nothing dangerous? Tearing the ship apart like nothing?"

  "This would have been the worst option and was not _that_ likely to happen,
Sir. No need to be concerned. Mr. Malloy and Cmdr. Hartley are well aware of
such possibilities."

  "If you say so, we'll gladly believe you, Mr. Nigh'Dar."

  "Proceeding to Warp 8.9". The humming's pitch grew higher and higher.

  "Warp Nine. Nine point zero five  ..."

  "SIR!" Ensign Fariano yelled.

  "WHAT?" He barely managed to avoid shooting upright from his chair, "Hell
don't _do_ that again, Ensign!" He felt his heart beat like mad. This was
neither time nor place to play silly jokes. Not of any other kind, either.

  "Excuse me, Sir. Distress call coming in!"

  "Ah. Mr. Nigh'Dar I have to interrupt you. Please slow us down to half impulse
speed. Put it on screen, Ms. Fariano."

  "It's audio only, Sir. Seems to be from a klingon vessel."

  "Whatever. Play it."

  Crackling noises and heavy shiftings through a wide range of frequencies. Then
a voice, yelling something inconceivable, coming to a sudden end, followed by
seconds of silence and finally a steady 'blip bliep blip'.

  "I didn't get anything. How do you know this to be Klingon?"

  "Experience, Sir." Clayton raised his eyebrows but she calmly answered his
sceptical gaze.

  "Then try to feed it to the universal translator. And locate and identify
the source of that annoying bleeping sound." Christine's fingers danced over
the surface of her console, stopping the bleeps for everyone's sanity.

  "That sound is part of the retrieval system of a klingon standard log buoy,
Sir. It comes in steady and clear."

  "Those Klingons must have been in real deep shit to launch it", Clayton
mused by himself, "Mr. Thulet set a course to the position Ms. Fariano will
evaluate. Lt. M'Dane I want you to make intense sensor sweeps. There could be
someone out there we don't want to meet unguarded."

***

USS Forward ATEV-NCC 4881 C - Captain's Log
Our first and - so far - successful test run has been interrupted by a
distress call from a vessel we suppose to be klingon. We discovered a buoy
signal and are now heading towards it, running sensor sweeps of our surrounding.
I suppose we will not like what we are about to find. Klingons are not famed for
their tendency to surrender to their enemies.

***

  "Sir, it will be about twenty minutes at Warp 7 to reach the position of the
buoy."

  "Mr. Nigh'Dar, are we ready to use warp drive?" Clayton asked his console.

  "Sure. But please don't exceed Warp 8.5, we are not prepared to go any faster
without retesting our power routes first."

  "I'll try to, Commander. Clayton out."

  "Captain, Universal translator comes to the conclusion that the message means
'We are under attack', probability 64 percent. There is no other meaning with
significant probability mentioned."

  "Nice prospects. Please send a message to starfleet command and transmit our
current knowledge. And make sure our position and identification are encoded.
I don't want us to be next on someone's list."

***

USS Forward ATEV-NCC 4881 C - Captain's Log
We've reached the location of the klingon log buoy. After scanning it for
possible traps, we beamed it aboard. The klingon writing on the outside told us
that it belongs to the T'Kaga, a Bird-of-Prey class vessel.
Cmdr. Nigh'Dar supposes himself to be able to pass the contained informations
over to our computer without tampering with the buoy's hull. Our report to
starfleet command includes a request for the correct code to make those
informations readable, since it is not part of our computer's database.
We will continue to observe for the T'Kaga itself and clues for it's possible
destruction - and destructor.

Captain's Log - Private
I feel sick hanging around here without protection or assistance from a bigger
vessel. We are mere prey for a romulan or whoever's warship that is capable to
destroy the T'Kaga. And destruction was her fate I suppose.

***

  "Anything new, Lieutenant?", Clayton asked, stepping out of his ready room.

  "Yes, Sir. I suppose we'll reach the place of the incident any minute. Sensors
pick up unusual amounts of metallic debris straight ahead."

  "Slow down a little, Mr. Thulet. Don't let us crash into it." Clayton stood
close to his seat, reaching down, touching the panel.

  "Mr. Hartley?"

  "Sir? We are done with our power testing now. Any orders?"

  "Thank you. Please report to the bridge now. It might be neccessary to have
an away team to investigate. Mr. Nigh'Dar, please have an eye on our weapon
systems. It might be neccessary, too."

  "Sir!" M'Dane said, her voice calm but still announcing bad news, "sensors
show metallic debris is klingon starship hull material."

  "Full stop and magnify." The screen switched to a close look at a former
little point. Shreds of sturdy metal and a ruptured hull, torn apart like the
toy of an angry giant child floated through cold and empty space. Whoever served
aboard this ship sure must be dead. Clayton in fact didn't like the view.

  "No lifesigns, I suppose?" He looked at M'Dane. She turned around and shook
her head.

  "Scan for the bodies. We shouldn't let them drift around. I don't know about
Klingon furneral rites, ask the computer if there is something we are supposed
to do."

  "I don't think this ship has been destroyed by an explosion, Sir." Ensign
Thulet said, "it rather looks as if it has been ripped open." Clayton turned
to him.

  "Good observation, Ensign. Do you think we should engage an enemy capable to
do such a thing? Rip a starship open like a cheap tin can?"

  "I guess that won't be the question, will it, Sir?"

  "No. You're right. All we could do is run for our lives."

  "No signs of dead bodies, Sir", Lt. M'Dane said, her face showing disbelief
and mild frustration about her equipment.

  "What do you mean, no signs? They are dead, that's quite obvious." Clayton
pointed to the screen. "They are not supposed to go anywhere. Anymore."

  "There is no sign, Captain. Whoever did this took them with him."

  "I really hate _such_ conundrums."

  "Perhaps this may offer a solution, Sir", Ens. Fariano announced, "Starfleet
Command wants to speak to you. Secure Channel, Sir."

  "On screen, Ensign", he growled. Main screen switched to the well known
Starfleet logo, then it was exchanged with the face of a man in his early
fifties, with bushy white hair and a pale complexion, showing the insignia of
a rear admiral.

  "Captain Clayton. This is Starfleet Command, Admiral Halsey speaking."

  "Admiral. How may we be of assistance?"

  "I guess I will be of assistance first, Captain. I'll transmit the klingon
code you requested. I hope your presentiment went wrong. It won't make us
look good if a klingon vessel gets lost deep in federation space."

  "I'm sorry, Admiral. We've found the T'Kaga and she's completely destroyed.
To speak clear, the hull seems to be ripped open as if something big tried to
get into every corner of it. There are no lifesigns and no trace of the crew's
dead bodies."

  "Do you think that _something_ you choose to speak of has taken them with it?"

  "That is a possibility I want to investigate if you have no orders prior to
this."

  "That's exactly what I suggest, Captain. You are ordered to search for traces
of an attacker and learn about his whereabouts and course, if possible. Your
testing mission is secondary now. We must be sure about what is going on."

  "Understood, Admiral. Is there any bigger ship around to help us, if we
get into trouble? Any vessel with better senors would be extremely helpful,
too."

  "I am sorry, Captain, but you have to take care of yourself until I can
figure out something. Stay away from trouble."

  "If possible."

  "If possible. Good luck, Forward. Keep me informed of your progress, Captain.
Halsey out."

***

USS Forward ATEV-NCC 4881 C - Captain's log
We took a few samples of the T'kaga's hull aboard for further research.
Currently we are running long distance scans around the wreck. Lt. Cmdr.
Nigh'Dar worked out how to get into the buoy's records. We are now about to
take a closer look at what happened to the klingon ship.

***

  "Doctor, what can you tell me about Lt. DiFalco?", Clayton asked, entering
sickbay. Elmer Proudfoot turned around, looking distracted for a moment, then
focusing his thoughts to the question.

  "Andorian common influenza", he answered, a sly smile on his face.

  "Shall I guess where he got it from?"

  "That would be a wrong guess. Lt.Cmdr. Nigh'Dar is not to blame."

  "I wouldn't blame him anyway. So what? Will you tell me?"

  "Lt. DiFalco told me that he supervised the shipment of Class 8 Probes on
Pelegas Research Facility. Since this was the only out-of-ship contact, he must
have been infected then."

  "Or it could have been me. I was over there, too, together with Commander
Nigh'Dar. But that is not the problem. Is there a treatment to prevent this
from spreading out?"

  "Yes, of course. I was just figuring out the proper stuff. If you don't
mind I will test it on you first." Again that sly smile.

  "Nice prospect", Clayton mused. Dr. Proudfoot prepared a hypo and a short,
cold pain touched the captain when he received his dose.

  "Hope this keeps you healthy", Proudfoot smiled, "I will be on the bridge
soon and bring more of this with me. To keep the world turning." Jeffrey
absend-minded rubbed his neck on the now itching place he got the injection.

  "How long for Mr. DiFalco to regain his ability to perform at helm again?"

  "Three, maybe four days. No way to have him out of bed earlier. You really
feel as sick as you look, if the Andorian influenza strikes."

  "Do you consider it recommendable for me to visit him?"

  "He must feel very miserable now. I don't know whether he would like his
captain to see him in a state like this. I consider it more helpful if you
come back tomorrow this time. Worst symptoms should be over then."

  "Then it will be better if you look for him, I guess. Please convey my wishes
of a speedy recovery to him."

  "Gladly."

  "Ah, yes. Did you take any special precautions for Mr. Nigh'Dar?"

  "He told me that he, as most Andorians, is perfectly immune to this kind
of influenza. Ironic, isn't it?" Clayton gave him a sly smile.

***

  "Let's see what we've got, Lt. M'Dane." Clayton said.

  "Ensign Fariano, please start with entry 649. This entry is the last one
before the battle, Sir", M'Dane said. She touched her panel to switch it to
main screen.

  The face of a fierce looking Klingon appeared, wearing the proper clothes and
insignia of a honored captain.

 ... (to be continued)


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