"Bring us around now!" Banner ordered. "All weapons, open fire the instant we're in range!" He hit his comm badge. "Mr. RaJa. Warp Five!"
Making what, in a planet's atmosphere, would be an impossible 180-degree turnaround, the Solar Wind shot back in the direction it came, at an even greater warp factor than it left, cutting the interception time with these "ghostly" invaders to a fraction of the getaway time.
Though Morris had ordered Banner to get his ship out of danger, Gray still felt he was doing the right thing by returning. He couldn't just watch these mysterious, robed beings "devour" the Tholian fleet and its homeworld of billions without helping.
Especially seeing as how there were still Solar Wind personnel on its hot, crystalline surface. Surely the captain wouldn't wish to just abandon them. Besides, whatever these beings from beyond the subspace cell were, it was obvious they were going to be a threat to the entire galaxy eventually. Starting with the Federation and its Tholian allies.
Gray felt certain Morris would have made the same decision had he been capable of occupying the center seat right now.
At any rate, it was too late to turn back now.
While the Tholian fleet engaged the Old Ones' vast armada (not to mention their "magic") and the Solar Wind arrived to lend a hand, a subspace distress signal sent by her acting captain was relayed at near infinite warp equivalents to Sector 001 and Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco on Earth.
Gray's voice could be heard through much static. " -- have so far proved ineffective against these ships and these beings. If they can be classified as such. Our shields are down to 89 percent . . . we've taken a helluva beating so far, but we're not out of the fight yet. Again, Starfleet, I urge a Priority One alert across all sectors. This is an invasion force of unknown potential and power. We need everything thrown against them that you can send. Repeating. An alien race from another reality has broken through into this one in Tholian space. "
At a hand gesture from Admiral Kellen Simms, one of the officers attending the top-secret briefing at Starfleet Headquarters touched a button which silenced the static-ridden report and blanked out Commander Banner's strained features from the large display screen, replacing the youthful countenance with a black field adorned with the blue and white UFP logo.
Admiral Simms stood. "That, as you all now know, was received on a secure channel nearly 20 minutes ago," she said. "For all we know, the Solar Wind has been destroyed, the Tholian homeworld overrun, and this invasion force now well on its way here . . . taking by force whatever it wants along the way. Or destroying whoever resists."
The room buzzed a moment with concerned murmurs amongst the various ranks of Starfleet officers . . . from lieutenants to admirals . . . as Admiral Simms gave them time to settle once more.
"I don't have to tell you what Starfleet's priorities are," she said. "We've ordered all available starships to rendezvous in Tholian space at top warp speed. All have been briefed and are under orders to avoid conflict with these invaders until everyone is in place. We've avoided allowing this information to filter down, fearing a panic. However, once a specific plan of defense against this threat has been agreed upon, we will have to make it known to the Federation Council and the many representatives of member worlds and their allies."
Tense silence clung to the air as the gathered officers pondered what was at stake should Starfleet forces fail to push back these invaders from another universe.
Silence and unspoken prayers.
Standing stiffly, Simms breathed a heavy sigh. "God help us in this righteous fight. Report to your pre-assigned sections to coordinate with the starship captains and planetary defense perimeters. Briefing over. Dismissed."
"Shields are down another 12 percent, Commander!" Lieutenant Pferrin shouted. "Decks 21 and 22 have sustained damage, but repair crews have it under control!"
"Mr. Orion?" Banner yelled.
Orion was checking his sensor display. "Tying into Tactical. I'm showing us virtually surrounded by the invader vessels, sir!" he reported. "The Tholian fleet seems to have been reduced in strength by 20 percent! And these energy beings enveloping the whole thing seem to be distorting our targeting systems to such a degree that their accuracy rate's only about 76 percent."
Gray didn't like to hear that; it meant every time a photon torpedo was launched or the phasers fired, nearly 1 out of 4 enemy ships were missed to rejoin the attack on them and the Tholians, who were putting up a valiant fight against a far superior force.
If only the Tholian ships were able to create their energy web about the bulk of the enemy ships and hold them at bay, Gray thought. We might have a better chance.
But Gray already surmised what Orion's sensors could confirm: The gargantuan energy beings in their hooded robes were no doubt interfering with that, as well.
Sure hope the Calvary gets here soon.
Another barrage of unknown energy blasts from the quick-moving vessels of curious design impacted with the weakened shields of the Solar Wind , shaking the Bridge crew almost out of their seats.
"Inertial dampers have dropped to 87%!" Pferrin shouted. "Shields now down to 77%! One more hit on the port side and we'll have hull penetration through Decks 24 and 25!"
"All right, I've had enough of this cat-and-mouse crap!" Gray said with determination. "If they're going to invade us, they're going to have to get by us! Disregard all computer-assisted maneuvers. It's time we show these monsters how we did it back in the Academy."
Everyone fell uneasily silent as they hesitated to fulfill Gray's unusual order. Lieutenant Lian was the one to break that silence.
"Uh, sir, we flew by the seat of our pants in small attack vessels. Not starships."
Gray shrugged. "So we've got a bit more mass to take into consideration. I have confidence in my crew . . . and this ship. Now, please, carry out my orders. Everyone."
Beyond trust in a superior officer's judgment. Beyond the training of Starfleet to obey and do one's duty. Beyond even feelings of friendship for Gray Banner.
Something instinctual told the Bridge crew that Banner was right as they quickly disengaged computer locks on key maneuvering functions involving the massive starship, each signally "ready" as soon as their read-outs displayed a manual status on major piloting and targeting systems.
Almost deviously, Gray said. "All right then . . . in the words of our ancestors, let's kick some ass."
Captain's log, stardate 49159.24 - Captain Rebecca Brooks recording. We have just arrived at the awe-inspiring frontlines of a galactic battle that's literally between Us and Them. My ship, the Starfire, has been joined by dozens of other starships; those immediately familiar to me are the Empress (commanded by Captain Richard Smith), the Politicus (commanded by Captain LeeAnn McNabb), the new Intrepid (commanded by Captain Tony Lesnick), the Midway (commanded by Captain Scott Patterson), and the Gryphon (commanded by Captain Michael A. Seals). Each of the ships' captains are well-known to me and I'm positive we can successfully coordinate counterattacks.
I'm not sure about these others, the Discovery, the Gallant, the Defiant, and so on, but they are Starfleet captains all and, as such, automatically earn my trust and respect.
From what the acting captain of the Solar Wind has told us, the situation is as follows:
Energy beings calling themselves the Old Ones succeeded in breaching a subspace barrier between realities for the express purpose of taking over our's by force.
Commander Gray Banner, sitting in for a still-incapacitated Captain Donald Morris (another old friend), quite expertly had his Bridge crew disengage their computer-assisting flight systems to literally pilot the starship by the seat of their pants and target the phasers and torpedoes with little to no help from the damaged automated weapons systems.
From the look of things, Banner's improvisational idea is working against the enemy vessels. At least in keeping them off-balance due to erratic and unpredictable (at least by computers) flight paths.
But it has to be playing hell with the officers inside the ship.
On board the Solar Wind , the reality of Captain Brooks' assumption was, indeed, being experienced by all within the searing, banking, looping, spiraling starship, the inertial dampers functioning at 85 percent making it difficult to keep from falling to the deck or tumbling into a bulkhead. It posed a special problem for those medical personnel in Sickbay trying to care for patients without falling on top of them.
Shaking her head, Dr. L'Aura said to herself, "If we survive this, so help me, I'm going to write up Commander Banner for a full psych and physical. The more excruciating the better."
As she and others making their rounds were tossed about again, Captain Morris began to gradually regain consciousness.
At least enough to know his ship was in trouble.
"Doctor? Doctor !" he called hoarsely. "What the hell's happening to my ship?!"
"Keep them away from our port shields! Don't let them get a direct blast there!" Banner shouted his orders. "Execute a 'roll and strafe' attack on that small cluster of enemy ships! Now!"
Banner's fingers gripped the armrests of the captain's chair hard in anticipation of the extremely rough ride that order would require. But it'd be worth it to take out another eight to ten enemy vessels.
The "roll and strafe" maneuver seemed effortless in the vacuum of space, but those other starship captains knew better. Even with inertial dampers at 100 percent, people would be tossed out of chairs and knocked off their feet.
But the bold act produced the hoped-for results: Phaser and photon and quantum torpedo blasts wiped out up to ten of the enemy ships in one movement. The Solar Wind soared on through the still-burning plasma to bank up at an angle far too steep for atmospheric vessels but perfect for a ship built to traverse the void between stars.
The viewscreen on the Bridge of the Starfire still held the crew captive as their sister ship angled to its starboard in order to surprise two more of the Old Ones' starcruisers.
"Obviously, Commander Banner's got something going here," Captain Brooks said. "Take our flight and targeting computers off-line as well. Prepare to take this starship where no starship has gone before: Into battle with only human skills and instincts to guide her!"
With the self-same nervousness and uncertainty as the Bridge officers on the Solar Wind earlier, Captain Brooks' skilled and decorated people obeyed her controversial order with less hesitation than Commander Banner received. But then, Brooks' crew had been together a lot longer than the crew of the Solar Wind . Plus there was a difference in obeying your captain's order and your First Officer sitting in for the captain.
With inertial dampers at maximum, the Bridge tilted sharply (as did its crew) as the starship broke formation in a most untraditional manner. More akin to Starfleet S.A.V.'s in high orbit of Earth than a hulking, Excelsior -class starship designed for computer-run piloting.
The old girl groaned almost as much as her crew as she spiraled out to take on some approaching enemy cruisers. Seeing what the Starfire had done (and receiving details from her captain via ship-to-ship), the others disengaged certain computer functions to be "jockeys" of their starships.
The Empress , the Politicus , the Intrepid , the Midway , the Gryphon , the Gallant . . . all the gathered starships (large and small, new and old) followed suit. In a matter of minutes, the space around Tholia and its moons was the sight of the strangest dogfight imaginable.
And, for once, the tide seemed to be turning. Even the Old Ones hovering over it all seemed somehow weakened . . . less ominous. As though the destruction of their ships and crews actually drained them.
And the Tholian vessels were finally freed up enough so that a major section of space containing dozens of enemy vessels was being "webbed off" by their unique force field strands. Less threat for the Starfleet ships to worry about.
On the monstrous starcruiser upon which the physical form of the High Commandant reclined in a meditative position in his protective chamber just off the enormous circular Bridge, two officers decided to take advantage of the diversions created by the on-going starship dogfight and Tholian web field, an advantage which would allow them to rescue a fellow "freedom fighter." One of the few who were cropping up in the tight-fisted reign of the Old Ones' too-ordered universe.
A young officer-turned-freedom fighter on board the Old Ones' flagship, Harry Kim was a very important link in a small but growing chain meant to one day break the stranglehold his universe had had to exist with for tens-of-thousands of years. Hundreds of generations.
The secret group Kim had joined six months earlier was dedicated to freeing their reality from the Old Ones. Even if it took another few hundred generations.
"I don't know about this, Hunter," Harry said. "Maybe we should wait until their even more distracted. We're supposed to rescue Sue . . . not get ourselves captured in the bargain."
"If not now, Harry, then it'll be never," Hunter told him. "The diversion created by the races of this universe might last another hour or two or it could be over in less than 5 minutes. We move now or not at all."
Hunter Quinn was a unique member of the Underground : An Inquisitor security officer with blood infused with nanites programmed to rapidly repair fatal wounds. Only a handful of such augmented officers existed on each cruiser . . . and only one was a freedom fighter.
And a very brave one at that.
"Well, unless they've moved her since I last checked the records," Quinn said, pointing straight ahead, "Sue Green's cell is right around this next corridor."
Sue Green. Not the one whom Commander Gray Banner secretly loved. This Sue Green was a counterpart which existed in the darker universe controlled by the Old Ones and their oppressive Hegemony. This Sue Green was a leader of the underground movement started a couple of decades earlier by her own mother and father (both eventually caught and killed by the Inquisitors while she was still a teen).
Now Sue took up the mantle of leadership in the secret ranks of the movement against the seemingly unstoppable Old Ones' Hegemony.
Unstoppable . . . until now .
"Guards," Harry said in hushed tones. "I was afraid of that. The fighting's not enough to pull them from their duties. Guess their fear of the Inquisitors and the pain glove is stronger than we'd anticipated, Hunter."
"There's only three of them, Harry. There's usually six."
"Yeah, but there's three of them with plasma guns, Hunter. We have nothing but our bare hands at the moment."
"Guess that means I go out there to divert them into chasing me while you free Sue."
"Hunter, are you crazy? You're gonna get yourself killed; if you--"
"Look, Harry, so long as I don't receive more than two fatal wounds from the plasma blasts, I'll survive - thanks to the trillions of microscopic robots running around my bloodstream. But you're the only one who has the skill to break their lock-codes on her cell, Harry. You are the only real chance Sue's got and she's the only real chance the Underground's got."
As usual, the dark-faced rebel's reasoning was without flaw; it was the most logical choice. While the guards chased him, Harry could put his expertise with the Hegemony computers to good use, hacking into the locking system which kept the force field of Sue's cell active and, therefore, freeing her so they could meet up with Quinn later.
If Quinn survived.
"Ready?" Hunter asked Kim.
Harry placed his hand on Quinn's shoulder. "You'd better come back alive, my friend," he told him. "Got me?"
Quinn smiled. "Look, Harry, I'm the only member of the Underground to survive the attempted coup of Sector 12. Thirty-five went into the bloody melee . . . only one came out."
"I remember," Harry said. "But you'd still better come back alive. The movement needs you, Hunter. And . . . you're my best friend."
After the brief moment of male bonding and silent recognition of one another's importance, Quinn made his way toward the three guards, being careful not to give away Harry's hidden position in the process.
Two of the three guards stood stoically to either side of Sue's small cell of crackling energy; the third proceeded to march patrol-style along the length of the wide corridor. It would be him that Hunter's feigned attack would center upon, thus creating the much-needed chaos and diversion so all three guards would leave the cell unguarded.
At least for five minutes. But, if Harry's computer expertise came through as usual, five minutes should be enough.
"Hey!"
"Stop!"
"Get him!"
"Go to hell, Hegemony bastards!" Quinn screamed at the pursuing guards as he dashed down the corridor. "Hahahaha!"
Naturally, the three guards gave chase after the one marching out his patrol path recovered from the unexpected assault upon his heavily armored person. If only he'd allowed his intellect assess the situation instead of his base emotions, the guard would've realized Hunter's so-called attack poised absolutely no physical danger to him. Or his two equally-armored comrades standing to either side of Sue's cell.
Who, as would be expected, was on her feet the instant Hunter made his appearance.
"Go, Quinn, go! "
Sue knew her colleagues in the Underground wouldn't let her down. She'd been in the hellish custody of the Inquisitors for over two months. Two months of pure torment, as the Old Ones had their Inquisitors utilize both the pain glove and the chamber to attempt to torture information out of her in connection with the Underground.
Also . . . because they enjoyed it.
"Harry!" Sue called.
"Ready to get out of your 'suite'?" he asked her.
"Sure am," Sue said. "The room service here is terrible. Think you can override the force field codes before any of the guards get back?"
"Hey, who're you talking to? I was one of the top computer techs in Ops on the Bridge of this cruiser for two years prior to jumping to the opposition. There aren't many systems I can't hack or lock-out codes I can't break."
Using a basic entry code from which to launch his search of the precise codes of Sue's cell, Harry quickly began to work the keypad to the left of the energy "walls" which kept the Underground leader confined. Sue, in the meantime, was anxiously looking up and down the wide corridor for any sign of the guards returning to catch Harry, which would also be an indication that Hunter Quinn (the man with the body-repairing nanites) had not survived this diversionary mission.
After all the fatal war wounds he'd had (yet recovered from each and every time) and the disastrous coup of Sector 12, it would be ironic indeed if Quinn was killed by three bored guards with virtually no battle experience.
--bzzt--
"Got it!" Harry exclaimed triumphantly.
No sooner had he said that than the cell's walls of energy faded and Sue was able to step out on her own for the first time since her capture.
It was great.
"Oh, Harry, I never thought the dank air of these corridors would ever feel so good."
"We'd better head for Cargo Bay 6," Harry advised, "before we both end up in cells. With luck, Hunter will be there waiting for us."
"Lead the way, Harry. You know the shortcuts better than any of us."
Captain's log, stardate 49159.24 - Captain Morris finally resuming my place on the Bridge. My congratulations and appreciation to Commander Banner for his heroic leadership.
Thanks to the plan which Commander Banner implemented, the overwhelming armada of the Old Ones has been greatly reduced. Most of them trapped within the Tholian web, which leaves the heavier cruisers, including the Voggath.
With the energy images of hooded Old Ones still dominating the vacuous blackness surrounding the nightmarish vessels from another universe, the Starfleet ships gathered in a galactic face-off alongside Tholian ships.
A true showdown was brewing in the Tholia system and Captain Morris was ready to deliver some pain to those who had so relished giving it during his temporary captivity.
Morris had his eyes on the main viewscreen, which showed a fellow captain. "If we concentrate as much firepower on the largest cruiser, Rebecca, we should be able to destroy it. Its shields are no more powerful than ours."
A smirk of self-confidence appeared on Captain Rebecca Brooks' youthful features.
"You know, Don, it's good to have you back. I miss that kind of wide-eyed optimism in the face of what many might consider a hopeless situation."
"Rebecca, you should know better than anyone that no situation is hopeless. How many times have you saved your ship from certain destruction over the years? Twenty? Thirty?"
"Closer to forty. But we've never had to face beings like this before, Don. The energy image alone is enough to make anyone worry. From some of our latest sensor readings, it's definitely more than an image."
Morris couldn't argue with that; sensor readings (once recalibrated to detect the proper EM frequency of the Old Ones' image seemingly projected into space) had indicated what they saw towering over all of the vessels may well have actual substance.
If that turned out to be true, it could pose a very real danger to those ships gathered before the invaders.
"Sensors have confirmed, Captain," Orion announced. "It's not just an image out there. It has a kind of mass."
"Explain, Commander," Morris said.
"Unlike the more obvious mass attributed to bodies or ships or planets, this projection has a similar mass which occupies a higher quantum-vibratory level. One which, on initial scans, didn't show up. But now, that planet-sized giant is as real as the cruisers clustered in its middle."
"So you're saying that if it reaches out to swat us with its hand . . . "
" . . . the resulting blow could smash a starship's hull as easily as we could smash a crystal glass, yes, sir."
That realization caught the Bridge crew unaware; they'd never truly considered the Old One projection a physical threat. Only a psychological one.
Now that perception had changed.
Morris turned to Banner. "Commander, put us on Red Alert status and send a simultaneous broadcast to the other starships to do the same. I have a feeling we're about to engage their Goliath."
"Aye, Captain. Red Alert! All shields to maximum! Weapons powered and on stand-by!" Banner focused on his communication console. "Issuing a subspace transmission to all Starfleet vessels. Coded and scrambled."
As Morris relayed orders to other officers, he sat on the edge of the command chair and stared intently at the main viewscreen's display of the cruisers and the solid "image" of a robed and hooded Old One all but embracing them.
"The real fight's yet to come," Morris said under his breath.
"Where is he? We can't just hang around," Sue said. "By now, the Inquisitors have security guards swarming through the corridors to track us down."
Sue Green and Harry Kim looked about the cargo hold that had been designated as a rendezvous point prior to the rescue mission undertaken by Kim and Hunter.
Harry shuddered to think that Quinn had finally been killed by the enemy. It just didn't seem possible.
"Just give him a few more minutes, Sue. He'll be here," Harry assured. "I know he's still alive. I know it. Just a few more minutes."
"Two more minutes, Harry, then we swipe one of these shuttles and get out of here. I'm sorry, but we can't risk the Underground's mission for one man. Even one as unique as Hunter Quinn."
"Understood," Harry sighed.
As the two watched and waited, Quinn had just barely eluded capture by the guards chasing him. As he hid in a painfully thin space between bulkheads down a side corridor, the guards rushed past in one which intersected it, bypassing him and allowing him time to sneak out and resume his rush toward the cargo hold wherein Harry and Sue would be waiting for him.
Or so he hoped.
"Captain, I'm reading a massive build-up of EM readings across the spectrum," Commander Orion reported worriedly.
Instantly, Captain Morris was on his feet and at the science officer's side; the graphic displays at Orion's station bearing out what his words had clearly stated seconds earlier.
"Is this in connection with their cruisers?" Morris asked. "Are they powering up all their weapons systems?"
"Possibly, sir," Orion answered, pointing out a specific display. "But that's not what's causing these readings. I'm afraid it's coming from the Old One projection."
Morris turned to look at the main viewscreen. "As if it were preparing to strike out." To the entire Bridge crew, he said, "This is it, people. Shields at maximu-- "
The impact which cut off the captain's order also knocked him off his feet, sending him crashing to the deck the same as the rest of the officers. It was the same on every other deck throughout the ship as crewmembers were sent sailing into bulkheads or fell onto deckplates. Systems shorted out from overloads occurring everywhere almost simultaneously.
Even as the Solar Wind was being swatted aside like some pesky insect, the captain of the Starfire was ready to act against the gigantic Old One image which had just reached out an impossibly enormous hand to smack the once-stationary starship into a now-tumbling one that sped past the Starfire 's viewscreen.
Brooks stood up from her command chair. "All phasers. Fire! Load photon torpedoes and launch! Place all decks on battle-ready Red Alert!"
Her Bridge crew responded immediately.
"Phasers locked and firing, Captain."
"Loading photon torpedoes and launching."
"All decks at battle-ready, sir."
The twin crimson beams of brilliantly destructive phased energy lashed out from the saucer section of the Starfire and cut through the chest area of the enormous image just as the volley of launched photon torpedoes reached the projection to detonate their extremely volatile payloads in unison. It was enough total firepower to level a large continent.
The result upon the "image": A momentary weakening and a semblance of pain in its cringing reaction to the tremendous outpouring of energies.
A weakening which was discernible to the delicate sensors of the Starfire .
"No mistake, Captain," reported this universe's Julie Jasienski, a science officer. "The phaser strike and photon torpedo explosions have brought its EM readings down by several points."
"So . . . it can be hurt," Brooks mused. "Send a message to all ships telling them our findings and include data from sensor scans."
"Aye, Captain," the communications officer replied.
To herself, Brooks said, "If we coordinate this just right . . . "
Before Brooks' spoken thought could be finished, a huge hand came straight toward her ship as seen via the main viewscreen, smashing into it and sending the Starfire flipping backwards out of the collection of starships gathered to battle the invaders.
As the Solar Wind gradually regained its stability and its integrity fields returned to normal strengths, crewmembers on all decks began picking themselves and their colleagues up.
In a few cases, crewpeople were attempting to rescue others trapped beneath battered debris and collapsed supports in the harder hit areas of the ship.
Not an uncommon sight.
Unless it is a Borg helping two officers who had taunted him mercilessly ever since his rescue.
"Help! Help!" one of them cried.
"We're trapped in here!" screamed the other.
Ensign Antor utilized his sensor-enhanced cybernetic prosthetics to zero in on their location. His enhanced strength made it possible to clear away the heavier metallic rubble near Botanical Sciences.
"Help!" cried Lieutenant Calvin Snow. "I think one of my legs is crushed!"
"I'm - I'm about to black out," Lieutenant Elmer Carter said.
"Please be patient. I am coming," Antor said, effortlessly hurling away debris. "In another ten minutes, I should have enough cleared away to -- "
"Antor!" Snow yelled. "For gods' sake, stop talking and get us out of here!"
"My estimations indicate I should be through the worst of it in precisely 9.26 seconds," Antor told him.
With one final exertion of cybernetically-augmented strength, Antor freed the two officers, his enhanced vision prosthetic quickly accessing the extent of their injuries.
"Thank God," Carter said. "Antor . . . how can we--? You - you saved us."
"We'll never treat you . . . " Snow was trying to find the words. "Well, we'll make this up to you, Ensign. You have our word on that."
Antor awkwardly shook their hands, his face as emotionlessly placid as ever. But, inwardly, Antor was proud and relieved; they were once his tormentors and now they were friends.
Being the only Borg to serve as a Starfleet officer, Antor needed all the friends he could get.
Suddenly, his keen senses detected the desperate cries of the helpless plants Antor spent so many hours tending. Cries borne more of fear than any sort of pain, but enough, at any rate, to draw the Borg in the opposite direction of Snow and Carter.
"Hey, where are you going?" Snow asked.
"There's nothing down there but fallen supports and damaged bulkheads," Carter reminded him.
Antor half-turned. "There are also innocent botanical entities who shall not survive unless I help seal off that area from further deterioration."
With that having been said, Antor turned and resumed his steady but purposeful strides down the debris-strewn corridor, leaving the two lieutenants to ponder this seemingly contradictory being which was half-Starfleet officer and half-Borg.
"Well, what can you expect?" Snow said to Carter. "He's closer to the plants than he is to any of us. Let's go."
"We're clear of the cruiser's shuttlebay, but we have a long way to go yet before reaching one of those starships," Harry told his fellow freedom fighters.
As Harry's talented fingers slid expertly about the control panel of the shuttlecraft they'd stolen from an Old Ones cruiser, Quinn kept watch on the sensors trained to their aft end, looking for a weapons lock and power-up of same. Sue was seated just behind them, staring out the small viewscreen at the crazy quilt collection of Federation starships and Tholian fighters.
Though she empathized with Harry's concerns and Quinn's tension, as an Underground leader, she had to keep her worries well hidden.
"Then, Mr. Kim," she said, "I suggest a straight-line flight path at maximum impulse. With luck, neither side will notice before we've reached a friendly ship."
Quinn activated controls. "Course laid in. Dead ahead."
"Maximum impulse," Harry requested. "Now."
After entering the necessary command into the velocity controls, Harry hit the activation panel to fire the fusion reaction thrusters on the rear of the oblong shuttle.
sshh - THRMM
Pressed back into their seats for a second or two while the vessel's inertial damping devices took over, the shuttlecraft shot forth like a projectile.
"Any particular starship?" Quinn asked.
"Whichever one we come to first, Hunter," Sue answered, clutching her chair's armrests.
Hunter glanced from his read-outs to those very vessels seen through the viewscreen and took a deep breath. Then, exhaling slowly, he programmed the coordinates of the starship he had arbitrarily chosen.
"Guess this is better than 'eeny, meeny, miney, moe'."
As those coordinates fed over to Harry's board, he saw the shuttle's computed ETA.
"At current speed, we'll reach target in less than ten seconds," Harry informed.
"Slow to half-impulse, Harry," Sue told him. "Slow to maneuvering speeds once we're within 1,000 meters."
"Slowing to one-half."
As the powerful thrum of the engines lowered rapidly to a loud hum, the three seemed to relax a little as the chosen starship swelled in their viewscreen.
The Solar Wind .
"All systems report ready, Captain," Pferrin said. "All weapons charged and locked."
"All starships confirm their readiness, Captain," Banner informed.
"Good," Morris said. "Tell the others to be ready to follow our lead. If we don't do this in unison, it's just going to piss them off."
"Course plotted and laid in, Captain," Lian announced. "Straight for the middle of that image."
"Mr. RaJa has already reported that warp will be available upon command, Captain," Pferrin said.
"Let's hope so," Morris said under his breath.
Banner reacted to that. "I'm sorry, Captain?"
"Oh, uh, nothing, Mr. Banner. Just saying a little prayer before the battle."
"Captain," Orion called. "Sensors are picking up an approaching object on its peripheral EM scans."
"Retarget the sensors on the object, Lieutenant Pferrin," Morris ordered. "Detailed scan."
Pferrin's agile fingers quickly reprogrammed the ship's sensors so that the rapidly approaching object could be properly identified and its contents evaluated. Morris was obviously afraid the object might contain explosives or hostiles. Orion feared the same when he reported it.
"Standard shuttle," Orion reported. "Reverse trajectory places it as coming from the larger cruiser. Internal scans show three humans. No excessive energy signatures which might indicate weapons or explosives."
Morris was now going to have to make a very important decision - whether to chance lowering the shields long enough to beam the three occupants on board or blast them into oblivion with a single phaser burst. If weapons or explosives had been detected, he would've chosen the latter without hesitation. As it stood, his only course of action was to bring these people aboard.
He slapped his comm badge. "Bridge to Transporter Room Three, lock transporter targeting grids onto the three occupants and beam them aboard. Make sure any hidden energy weapons are deactivated before materialization."
"Aye, Captain. Locking on."
On board the stolen shuttlecraft, three individuals continued to pilot it toward their hastily chosen "target" known as theU.S.S. Solar Wind .
"How much longer?" Sue asked Harry. "Our luck's bound to run out soon."
"About 1 minute and 25 seconds until we're within the starship's shield range."
"Then what?"
"We'll try hailing them and they'll either take us in or destroy us."
Sue exhaled. "Well, at least we've got a choice."
Suddenly, as Quinn reached to program a lower velocity for the shuttle, the three of them dematerialized from one location and found themselves solidifying on a transporter pad. Three security officers stood guard at the doors to the transporter room with phasers in hand.
Though Sue, Harry, and Quinn wouldn't find out until later, the stolen shuttlecraft was obliterated by a blast from the cruiser exactly a half-second after the beam-out began (just as the Solar Wind 's shields went back up as well).
"We mean no harm," Harry assured the security guards and the transporter tech while holding up his hands. "We're friends. We seek asylum from the Old Ones."
The transporter operator slapped her comm badge. "Transporter Room Three to Bridge. Beamover successful. I have three individuals who are obviously not hostiles."
"Have Security escort them to temporary quarters," came the captain's voice.
"Aye, Captain."
With a gesture from one of the security officers, the three stepped off the pad and proceeded through the whooshing doors.
Captain's log, supplemental. Our "guests" have been questioned by acting Security Chief Garrett.
The alternate Quinn has identified the lead image of the Old Ones as that of Harth, superior to the High Commandant of the starcruiser upon which I'd been held captive. With this vital inside information, we now know my plan of unified attack upon the giant image will work.
So now was the time to put that dangerous plan into action.
As Harth regained some of his lost strength (his image growing sharper), the Federation ships aligned themselves into one massive attack formation, the Tholian vessels forming a second wave if needed.
On the Bridge of the Solar Wind , Captain Morris was finishing a subspace and scrambled conversation with Captain Brooks on the Starfire .
"With all of us just out of its reach, the projection can't attack us before we attack it just as it attacks," the burly captain said.
"You know, Donald, I realize there's some kernel of wisdom in that illogical statement, but I don't have the stamina to dig for it," Brooks said. "Just lead and the rest of us will follow."
Brooks' image faded quickly from the viewscreen to be replaced by the starfield within which enemy cruisers congregated within a monstrous robed and hooded projection of an Old One named Harth.
Morris knew all starships had their communications attuned to him and that one word would initiate a united attack sequence which would either destroy the massive image or destroy most of the attacking starships. But he also knew that if the Old Ones couldn't be stopped in the Tholia system, everyone was doomed anyway.
Sweat began to slowly trail itself along the contours of the captain's rugged face as his hands clutched the armrests of the command chair. He inhaled deeply in preparation for an order which could easily spell certain death for them all. But not doing anything would most definitely result in such an outcome. At least with this plan, they had a chance.
"Captain to all starships," Morris echoed into the air. "Attack projection on my mark. Mark! "
With the Solar Wind slightly in the lead, the impressive collection of starships (from Excelsior -class vessels to the newer Intrepid -class ships) shot forth toward the projection with volleys of photon and quantum torpedoes launched as simultaneously as the phaser blasts, all centered upon the middle of the enormous image, which also happened to be deadly close to the larger cruiser of the High Commandant.
The Old One projection of Harth's image shrieked in an agony which was transmitted electronically to all starship communication systems. It was almost as if it could carry itself in the vacuum of space and be heard in its airless void.
The attacking starships broke formation in a standard split in order to both get out of Harth's reach and to regroup for another attack. Harth, in the meantime, struggled against the tremendous drain upon its energies, which were already in the extremes to maintain a cohesive projection with enough subspace substance to attack.
Which Harth did - smashing through the shields of a smaller starship (still too close to the projection) and utterly obliterating it. Its hull shattered into a trillion tiny pieces as the interior atmosphere briefly exploded (quickly extinguished by the vacuum of space). The hundreds of crew personnel on board were reduced to atoms in the self-same instant of destruction.
Another gigantic swat of Harth's hand and two more starships exploded into infinity, while another was simply sent spinning away to be disabled during another counterattack.
An attack which sent more photon and quantum torpedoes and phasers into the midst of the massive image, causing Harth to react with pained weakness even greater than before; the starships quickly split their numbers to get away and regroup.
Only this time it would be the Intrepid which was hit with a glancing blow by Harth's hand, sending it tumbling for tens of thousands of kilometers before its crew was able to regain control.
But, when they did, her captain would discover the Intrepid to be effectively dead in space; therefore, it could only watch helplessly as her sister ships continued to press unified attacks.
Over the Solar Wind 's viewscreen, Captain Tony Lesnick said to Morris, "My apologies, Donald, but we're going to have to settle for being your cheering section. My Chief Engineer reports weapons cannot be repaired without assistance from a starbase and our warp drive's off-line for at least 12 hours."
"Don't worry about it," Morris said. "Our sensors indicate this Harth has been severely weakened. One or two more attacks and I believe we can disrupt its projection all together."
"Just remember . . . after you defeat Harth, you must still defeat the armada of cruisers."
"That's what I like about you, Lesnick," Morris said with playful sarcasm, "your optimistic support."
Three attack runs later (in which four more starships had been swatted aside, among them the Valkyrie , the Politicus , and the Midway ), Harth finally disappeared. But the enormous image didn't go out without thrashing helplessly at the surrounding space and sending a shrieking transmission to the subspace transceivers of the starships regrouping yet again.
Harth had finally been vanquished, but the war wasn't won. The remaining heavy cruisers hung before the starships like predators awaiting the perfect moment to pounce. And, if the Old Ones had their way, the prey would be quickly and completely devoured.
The captains of these Starfleet vessels knew full well how much danger still faced their crews. They also knew full well that they could never allow those cruisers to fire first.
"All weapons charged and locked, Captain," Pferrin announced.
"The other starships report their readiness as well, sir," Banner said.
"Good," Morris said. "Signal them to lock onto their pre-assigned targets and fire phaser banks all at once."
The scrambled message was simultaneously transmitted to all the starships, just milliseconds before the Solar Wind 's sensors detected sharp increases in the EM readings connected with the Old Ones' weapons. The heavy cruisers brought their warp drives back on-line for the battle royale . A fight to the death with the victor claiming an entire galaxy as their "prize."
The Solar Wind rocked violently to and fro as energy unleashed by the cruisers slammed into its shields (which had weakened by 19 percent); its structural integrity field was being compromised and its inertial dampers were failing intermittently.
The result: Buckling bulkheads and personnel hurled to the deck with each violent impact or evasive acceleration, the worst taking place on Deck 4, wherein crew quarters and guest quarters were located.
Since all crewpersons were currently manning various posts and stations during the Red Alert situation, almost all those quarters were empty. Only three "guests," who had recently arrived, were currently in quarters. They most assuredly were not enjoying the ride.
"Susan?" a concerned Quinn asked, stumbling through the corridor. "Are you alright?"
As the alternate Sue Green steadied herself in her guest quarters, Quinn and Harry made it to her, having come from their own quarters. Though they were supposedly fearless freedom fighters, at the moment, terror seemed to dominate their countenances.
Fear of the unknown gripped their usually self-controlled souls.
"I'm fine," Sue said, "but I don't think this ship's going to be. Not if the Old Ones keep pounding its shields. Pretty soon, there's bound to be hull breaches."
"Already happened," Harry said. "Near our quarters around the corridor."
"That's one of the reasons we're here, Sue," Quinn stammered breathlessly. "That and to make sure you were safe."
Sue could see how uncomfortable Hunter was with such feelings of attachment and concern. She forced herself not to smile in appreciation of his caring motivations. Instead, she took on the look of a leader and strode purposefully for the doors of her quarters.
"Well, I'm not going out like this," she said. "Sitting around . . . not knowing what the hell's going on or how we're doing against the Old Ones."
Harry and Quinn shared a knowing glance while gladly following her into the corridor and toward the nearest turbolift. Another explosion slammed against the Solar Wind 's shields (nearly knocking Sue, Quinn, and Harry off their feet) before they reached their destination.
"So where're we going?" Harry asked.
"Anywhere's better than here," Quinn said.
"We're going to the Bridge," Sue told them.
"But Captain Morris told us not to," Harry reminded her.
"Under the circumstances, Harry, I think he'll make an exception," Susan said.
Just as Harry shot Quinn a look which seemed to embody their mutual understanding of her infamous stubborness . . .
sswissh
. . . the turbolift doors opened and the three stood face-to-face with another Susan Green! She was wearing glasses, which altered her appearance, but it was definitely her - the Sue Green of this reality.
"W-who are y-you?" the woman with the glasses asked in awe.
"That's funny," the alternate Sue said. "I was just about to ask you the same thing."
"We're from, uh, well, we're from the reality beyond that subspace layer your ship penetrated," Harry said.
"Oh, the one where we were held prisoners and tortured," this universe's Susan said indignantly. "Nice place. Maybe I'll spend my vacations there."
In a hushed aside, Quinn told his Susan, "One thing's for sure, Suze, she's got your sense of humor."
"Quiet, Hunter," the alternate Susan said. To her counterpart, she said, "We must get to the Bridge, er, Sue. Can you help us?"
"Uh, sure," Sue 1 responded somewhat reluctantly. "As a matter of fact, I was on my way there myself."
The three stepped into the cylindrical car with Sue 1 as she uttered a single-word command.
"Bridge."
Soon, two Sue Greens would arrive to make Captain Morris's life even more hectic than it already was.
"Another volley coming our way, Captain," Orion reported. "108 mark 17."
"Evasive maneuvers, Lieutenant Lian," Morris ordered. "Alpha -beta IV."
"Aye, Captain."
Sue 2 was extremely impressed with the professionalism and precision demonstrated by the Bridge crew during an all-out battle with equally powerful cruisers. She'd come to the Bridge with the intention of chewing out this ship's captain for what she believed was inexperience and incompetence. Now she would have to commend him for his obvious expertise.
Pferrin called, "Impact expected on our aft nacelle -- "
THROOOMM
The lighting blinked. The entire ship shuttered wildly. The various console displays blanked out and then resumed. The Bridge crewmembers were tossed to the deck. Some were bounced off bulkheads. The inertial damping systems malfunctioning due to constant bombardment by the High Commandant's large cruiser's energy weapons.
Sue 1 pulled herself up from the carpeted deck with the help of Commander Banner, who had rushed to her aid.
"Captain, don't you think it's about time to try a little thing called 'retreat'?" she asked sarcastically.
Getting to his feet, Morris said, "Ms. Green, please allow me to make that de -- "
Morris was momentarily frozen with awe as he saw two Sue Greens standing near one of the Bridge's turbolift doors. Banner also noticed the alternate Susan for the first time and gasped. Though one wore 20th-century clothing and the other wore a more 24th-century-style skin-tight, black jumpsuit, they were undoubtedly both Susan Green.
"Who -- ?" Morris asked.
Sue 2 stepped forward. "Let's just say I disagree with my counterpart, Captain. I think you've done remarkably well. Most ships would've long since been destroyed by the Old Ones."
Indeed, several starships had been, but the Solar Wind was one of the many still in the fight. Yet it was in that instant that Morris knew the differences in the two Sues.
Differences which were literally a universe apart.
"Shields down to 43 percent. Warp engines temporarily off-line," Pferrin reported. "Integrity fields down to 56 percent. Massive damage to Decks 10, 11, and 29. Repairs in progress."
"Cruiser powering up for another volley," Orion informed. "175,000 kilometers and closing."
Morris's attention was quickly brought back to focus. Spinning smartly on the ball of one foot, he faced the main viewscreen as it displayed the rapidly approaching heavy cruiser upon which the captain had been a tormented prisoner not too many hours before.
"Evasive. Beta II. All weapons: Fire!"
With those orders carried out, phasers and photon and quantum torpedoes made their mark upon the starcruiser's shields as the Solar Wind turned smartly in the midst of space. It was a turn which allowed a margin of safety as energy blasts narrowly missed the starship.
But miss they did.
"Come around. Fire again," Morris ordered. "Throw everything at those bastards. Now!"
As those orders were being carried out quickly and expertly, Sue 2 rushed to Morris's side.
"Captain, if you truly want to win against that cruiser, I can tell you where to strike to do the most damage," she offered.
"What?" Morris said, amazed.
"My associates and I are well-versed with the Old Ones' cruisers and their weak points. In fact, Harry," she said, pointing to the Asian resistance fighter, "was actually an officer for a time on that one."
Morris shifted his awed gaze from this other Sue to the Harry Kim to which she was referring. The Harry Kim from that other universe; the one who reminded Morris of the innocent ensign he'd met on Deep Space Nine prior to the young man's shipping off on the U.S.S. Voyager ; the one who told him about his devoted parents and how proud they were that he had been granted that ill-fated assignment. Morris wished that Kim's parents could meet this Kim, even though he was a more tarnished, battle-hardened version of their son.
Then Morris thought that if there was more than one Harry Kim and Susan Green, then there could be another Donald Morris. The realization felt all so surreal to him. The worst of it was that the other Morris might be a completely evil person, someone who went against everything he believed in and cared about.
"Very well, uh, Ms. Green," Morris said, coming out of his reverie. "Proceed."
On the enormous, darkly-lit Bridge of the Voggath , the High Commandant sat regally in his command chair overlooking the multi-tiered stations manned by highly obedient officers. Obedience won through total fear and intimidation.
On the vast viewscreen before him was the image of the Old Ones' primary enemy - a starship which had done what no other vessel had done in the centuries of dominance the Old Ones enjoyed. It held its own in an all-out battle with no clear victor in sight.
The High Commandant was determined to do something about that.
"If that ship has not been destroyed within the next few moments," his voice echoed, "I shall turn all of you over to the Inquisitors."
As if the stress levels felt by each Bridge officer weren't high enough (all were sweating), now their fears had been catapulted into an even more mind-numbing category. They no longer had any options or time.
It was either the Federation ship or them.
Those officers operating the weapons systems, including Julie Jasienski, wasted no time in targeting the starship and firing. Just as all the other officers who manned back-up and support stations, wasted no time in preparing for follow-up volleys.
The officers scanning for damage to the starship had redoubled their efforts to detect a weakening area which could be exploited, thus ensuring the destruction of the Solar Wind and its crew of hundreds.
Meanwhile, the Federation ship was swiftly shifting its attack-and-evade patterns to something which, on the surface, appeared to open them up to certain destruction.
"Perfect," the Commandant laughed. "The fools are giving us their soft underbelly to strike. Victory shall now be ours to claim. Attack! Now! 100 percent lethal force! I want no survivors!"
There was finally a sense of relief rushing through the war-weary minds of the slavish officers and relief was most definitely not a feeling these officers were used to experiencing.
They were, therefore, a bit less frenzied as they prepared to unleash the starcruiser's deadly energies at their opponent yet again.
It was an action they believed would be their last in the battle with the Solar Wind .
"Their weapons are powered," Orion reported. "Less than five seconds until they fire."
"Execute Ms. Green's attack maneuver as well as evasive pattern Delta III," Morris ordered.
"Aye, Captain," Lian responded.
With an abrupt set of right-angled turns in a sharp-edged outward spiral, the starship narrowly escaped the deadly volleys while setting itself up for the coup de grace - the deathstrike attack as per Sue 2's instructions.
"High Commandant!" Jasienski screamed. "We have an all-out weapons assault upon the cruiser's -- "
"I know! " the High Commandant growled with rage. "I know-oooo! "
The Voggath flared like a supernova.
As the tremendous force of the blinding explosion consumed the starcruiser, it sent literally millions of metallic shards streaking into space like tiny rockets. Many of the small pieces were deflected off the still-weakened shields of the Solar Wind .
The handful of starcruisers not destroyed managed to re-enter their own universe through a subspace manifold.
Tholia had been saved. Most of Starfleet's ships had been saved. The galaxy, possibly the entire universe, had been saved.
But nothing would ever be the same again.
"Any luck with that problem I've been having?" Gray asked Dr. L'Aura. "Ensign Schai practically cornered me out in the corridor just now."
L'Aura was in motion about her office in Sickbay as she calmly replied to the First Officer's query, a padd in one hand as she looked out to see how Nurse Marley was handling the last of the crewpersons being treated for minor injuries obtained during the battle.
She turned to Gray. "Don't worry, Commander, I've contacted one of the Deep Space stations with all my findings. We should be getting a prognosis soon."
Captain's log, stardate 49160.1 - The Solar Wind's putting in for some much-needed repairs at Deep Space Eight as well as an even more needed R&R for my bone-tired crew - those still alive after our battle with the Old Ones.
Though we had gone through hell for several hours, each of us knowing the galaxy literally hung in the balance, as a crew, we have become much stronger due to the adversity caused by our struggles against these beings. Not only have we become stronger together but many have changed individually, I think.
Such as Ensign Antor, our Borg officer, who has finally begun to display those compassionately unique human characteristics once well-known in his former incarnation of Frank Marcello - much to the relief of his much-bereaved wife, Lieutenant Lian Jin, who performed miraculously on the Bridge during the battle. Those officers who once displayed nothing but hate and malice toward Antor have now turned to admiration and camaraderie. That's a virtual miracle in itself.
Kirsten McClure, once we have finished repairs at DS8, shall remain for reassignment to the Abbe-class warship, the Wasp, designed for such galaxy-wide threats as the Borg and now the Old Ones. It seems she'd heard rumblings of an invasion after finding an artifact left by the Old Ones in Tholian space and was coming to warn Starfleet, but the Tholian isolationists changed her plans. It was merely coincidence that at the same time she ran across evidence of the terrorist's plans to bomb Starbase 624. Her knowledge of the Tholian race shall prove helpful to the new alliance with them to be formed, of course, but so shall her unique perspective on this new problem facing the Federation.
Also staying for reassignments will be the three displaced residents of that other universe: Sue Green, Harry Kim, and Hunter Quinn, who Starfleet Command is convinced shall definitely prove invaluable in preparing for any future incursions of the Old Ones.
As far as our Sue Green, she'll be staying with us, continuing to assist Counselor Breend in Antor's therapy.
Speaking of my wife, I've learned from the Samarian doctors on Starbase 512, where Brenda had extensive medical examinations prior to this mission, that she is pregnant with our first child. That's most definitely good news to a captain who's seen a lot of bad in the last few days. I just hope I can be as good a father as I have a starship commander.
Many mysteries hang over us in the aftermath of our victory over the Old Ones.
My Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant Commander Orion, has apparently disappeared from the ship. Our fear is that when the surviving Old Ones retreated to their universe, Commander Orion was taken as well. A logical move, as he was CSO of the vessel which destroyed their lead cruiser and significantly helped in their defeat. Rescuing him will be at the top of Starfleet's list regarding the Old Ones.
Before he vanished, Orion reported that his readings of the Old Ones image of Harth were similar to those recorded 105 years ago by the U.S.S. Enterprise of a giant hand belonging to a life-form identifying itself as the Greek god Apollo. Could Apollo, who was worshipped by ancient Earth people, been one of the Old Ones? It's a chilling thought.
Still another mystery: Captain Lesnick of the Intrepid discovered after the battle that most of his crew were Changeling members of the Dominion. They escaped shortly after that ship put in at DS8 just two hours ago. Guess our security measures against them is still lacking. But why the Intrepid?
Lastly, it is my sad duty to report the necessity of leaving my security chief, Lieutenant Commander Shanoch, on the Tholian homeworld, along with a number of his security officers, to set up a first-alert base of operations in case the Old Ones do decide to re-enter our universe. His towering presence on my Bridge will be impossible to replace.
One more thing: personal log - the cause of Commander Banner's attractiveness to most of the females on board the ship was solved by Dr. Bashir on DS9. It seems that during my First Officer's last visit there, the barkeep got him to try one of the holosuite programs. Part of its function was to introduce a super-strong pheromone which was intended to enhance Banner's enjoyment of the program. Unfortunately, when he left the station and returned to the closed environs of a starship, the pheromonal activity reversed itself to act upon others. So, like water, holodeck-generated pheromones can exist outside the holographic environment. Dr. L'Aura has managed to counteract the undetected hormonal additive and my First Officer should be his old self in two or three days. Hope he can get used to the sudden drop in attention.
The Solar Wind 's corridors had been darkened for the "evening" shift. The low light was conducive to the romantic mood for Gray Banner and Susan Green as they walked to Holodeck Two.
The attractive young woman raised her eyebrows at Gray's old-fashioned charcoal-grey pinstripe suit and asked, "What will we do in there? Are we going to act out a holo-novel?"
Smiling mysteriously, Gray replied by ordering the holodeck computer, "Chinatown, San Francisco, September 1962, 7:00 in the evening, Program GB-1."
The computer's feminine voice announced, "Working."
While they waited for the holodeck program's set-up, each smiled at private thoughts of how they came to be waiting here. Gray recalled how his recent holodeck-induced condition actually helped him initiate his relationship with Susan, while she mused that she was actually glad she had returned to this ship, this universe, to be with Gray again. She was strangely nervous and self-conscious: her hands trembled when she smoothed down her navy blue sweater - vest and skirt; her temperature seemed elevated, especially her face. She wasn't the only one, though: Her companion displayed similar symptoms.
After fifteen seconds, the computer announced, "Program ready. You may now enter."
"Are you ready, Susan?" She just nodded.
The door slid aside with a vroom . They entered the holodeck, pausing until the hatchway closed and disappeared, replaced with the surrealistic image of Art Deco buildings fenestrated by varied rows of quaint windows. Brilliant red, blue, yellow, and green neon lights in English and in Chinese pictographs, cast multi-colored pools of light on the narrow brick-paved city streets. Holodeck-generated people scurried by, clad in traditional Chinese costumes of jackets and baggy pants of quilted silk in as many colors as the neon lights. Sandalwood, cedar, and jasmine incense mingled with the salt air and fog from the Bay, where foghorns croaked like huge bullfrogs in May. Romantic music by various groups of both the 20th and 24th centuries played in the background.
With Susan's hand on his arm, Gray escorted her to an establishment with a bright red Chinese arch framing its double doors of natural teak. A painted sign in Mandarin Chinese pictographs and stylized English lettering identified this location as the House of Happy Sighs.
A waiter in a jade green jacket met them just inside the door. He bowed, saying, "Honorable Sir and Madam, I am your humble servant, Li Wong. Please follow me," then led them into the dining area. There was a public area in the middle and several curtained alcoves along the sides of the room. The tables and chairs were reddish-brown teak inlaid with Oriental scenery with that different sense of perspective and gleaming enamels illuminated by glowing red pagoda-shaped lanterns hung from the low, dark rafters.
The waiter showed Susan and Gray to an alcove with an ebony table and low China-red benches. Being a perfect gentleman, Gray helped Susan with her chair, then seated himself across from her. Then Li Wong presented two menus and took their orders for tea and rice.
While they studied the English print and Mandarin pictographs which described the cuisine, Gray asked, "How are you with chopsticks, Susan?"
"I haven't had much practice," Susan admitted with an embarrassed grin.
"Neither have I," Gray admitted, "but nobody will notice us. I programmed everyone but the waiter to mind their own business."
When Sue laughed, Gray fondly observed how her fair, elfin face lit up and her bright blue eyes sparkled with her shy smile. They held hands across the table, then leaned over to kiss.
The waiter came back to serve their hot tea and steamed rice, then asked, "Are you ready to order now?"
Susan studied the menu. "What are you going to order, Gray?" she asked.
"I'll have the chow mein, egg rolls, and sweet and sour shrimp," he replied. "What would you like?"
"I'll have fried wontons, noodles, and sweet and sour chicken."
Li Wong smiled approvingly as he noted their orders and retrieved the menus, then disappeared beyond the draperies.
The only non-authentic detail of this restaurant program was that they did not have to wait for more than five minutes before Li Wong returned to serve their dinner. The waiter provided them with extra utensils for mutual sampling, then left them alone again.
They nibbled quietly at their respective delicacies until Susan suggested, "Let's trade tastes." Gray agreed, so the young woman selected a forkful of chicken, then fed it to her date, who reciprocated with a fork of his shrimp, then he ate some of his shrimp himself.
"Mmm, that's good," Susan praised. "I should have ordered that instead of the chicken." She tasted the sweet and sour chicken. "Hm, maybe not. Mmm, this is good. Mmm, these noodles are good, too."
"I guess that's why people like to sample other people's food," Gray commented. "You find out whether you'll like what they have before you order it for yourself the next time. And if you really like it, you can order it immediately. Would you like to order some shrimp, too?"
"Um, maybe next time. I'm rather full now." She sighed happily.
"So am I," Gray told Susan, "but there's more to enjoy. A first date in a Chinese restaurant wouldn't be complete without fortune cookies." He took a little mallet from the top rack of a small brass gong that stood in the center of the dark, teak table and struck the gong, which produced a distinct, melodious bong!
"D flat," Susan identified the musical note.
The ringing gong was Li Wong's cue to enter their alcove once more, bearing a tray of fortune cookies. He waited just outside the curtain while the couple broke the crisp, folded cookies open, found the tiny slips of rice paper within and read what was printed on them. The fortune in Susan's cookie read, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder," while Gray's said, "Great things come in small packages."
By silent mutual consent, the Solar Wind 's First Officer rose and helped the pretty psychologist to rise and leave the alcove. Then they left the restaurant. (They did not have to pay for the meal because it was just part of the holodeck program.)
It seemed too soon to go "home" yet, so they strolled through Chinatown, hand in hand, enjoying the ambiance, almost forgetting that it was a holodeck program. As the minutes passed, the traffic thinned until they were the only people on the street.
A curio shop caught Susan's attention as they walked by; the young couple kind of wandered into it. Shelves lined the walls, but neatness did not count in this store. Susan smiled at the familiar traditional wares she had heard of back in her original home on Earth in 1994.
Susan wished she could buy something here but everything here was a holodeck construct. The bright, colorful paper umbrellas, painted fans of all sizes, pagoda lanterns, paper lanterns, incense and incense burners, Buddha statues, obese good-luck gods, wooden back scratchers shaped like monkey hands, silk pajamas and robes, cricket and grasshopper cages, chopsticks, and odd bits of Oriental furniture were all "grounded" here - if she attempted to take anything out of the holodeck, it would vanish. That was the only disappointing thing about holodecks. The young woman sighed. It would have been nice to have some memento of this evening.
While his new girlfriend was looking at a lamp that hung from the ceiling, Gray slipped something out of a pocket inside his suit jacket and placed it where she would notice it.
A moment later, Susan spotted the bracelet and tried it on. "Oh, I love this bracelet!" she happily exclaimed. "It's too bad this is a holodeck creation."
"Maybe," Gray told Susan. "But you might be able to keep it. Let me put it on your wrist for you."
"Oh, I understand - you brought this gift into the holodeck, so it will stay on my arm even after we leave the holodeck." She smiled, shook her head a little and observed, "You love to be mysterious, don't you, Mr. Banner?"
Gray didn't answer the question; he just smiled at Susan, then asked, "Shall we see if it's real?" and called, "Exit, please."
The holodeck hatchway slid open and they left Chinatown behind.
The two of them walked back to Susan's cabin and went inside, blissfully forgetting the open door behind them, as they said goodnight with a long kiss and warm embrace while the Starship Solar Wind continued on her course for the next mission.