Chapter 6: When Souls Collide
Some time after the destruction of Aristolis 3:
The SG's had suffered heavy losses when the Federation had blasted the majority of their flank into space flotsam and jetsam when Aristolis 3 had gone from the third planet in the Aristolis system to its own self-sustaining star in the mere seconds it had taken to detonate the Supernova Device. She was unsure as to a reason why, but after all these weeks, Beverly still had nightmares about it. She decided that in order to be able to remain professional, as well as keep a grip on her sanity, she needed to get away from the Hesperus and she promptly volunteered for the medical field services in which fully equipped emergency field service ships went to planets that had undergone mass trauma from war, planet-wide disasters, etc. Thinking that the constant demand for the services she was providing would keep her mind too focused to think on anything else, she also developed a hard-as-nails outer shell that she let no person penetrate. Any breach of protocol was met with swift and unbending tirades into what it meant to do the job at hand. Even the most stout of heart was sent scurrying when they had so much as even hinted at anything that seemed, to her, out of order. It was said by some that she was hell-bent for leather; by others that all she really needed was a good fuck. But they all agreed that it was some undisclosed personal pain that brought forth this rigorous determination and passion for the practice of medicine.
After she had requested the change to the medical field services, she had taken the first assignment that came open. It was aboard the G.F.S. Zephyrus, one of the ships that was making the run to the Maandebaran sector, cleaning up after a particularly nasty Shadow-Ghost attack. She would never know it, because even though with her expertise and rank, she could have had any ship in the fleet, Fleet Command let her have the Zephyrus partly because of Beverly's no nonsense attitude, but mainly because they couldn't stand the lackadaisical efforts made on the part of the crew. Within the first week of being aboard ship, Beverly, through sheer bloody-mindedness, had turned the joke of the Fleet into a svelte ship that soared above the rest in the medical field services. It became a role model that the other field services ships quickly began to emulate, and which the Fleet Command much approved. She was not the captain of the Zephyrus, but as the chief medical officer and services coordinator, she determined the course of action that the ship would follow. Their current assignment had them on a heading to one of the Federation's backwater worlds, Grand Paradiso, which was a misnomer as it was a serpent's nest of crime and sundry illicit activities. It had been nearly obliterated in an SG attack and that was their current heading. The Zephyrus was proceeding along at a relative speed of warp five when the entire electrical system on the ship went ape-shit.
* * * * *
Jester hadn't given much thought to exploring this TARDIS which seemed to be an odd compilation of technologies not common to Gallifrey. This struck him as extremely odd given the highly secretive nature of his people, the Time Lords. The ship hummed quietly to itself, the soothing whine of the ship in flight that filled the air was just below average hearing. The lights on the console winked and flashed in sequence, oft times seeming agitated as if the TARDIS itself was striving to communicate a desperate message to its operator. The cylindrical column of the time rotor at the console's heart, rose and fell in its slow and rhythmic course. A cursory examination of the console after he had cleared Gallifrey had shown Jester that he was basically flying in a crippled ship that was doing little more than hobbling along through the space-time continuum. Any sort of emergency now could end up him up literally anywhere. That's why when the ship shuddered and threw him to the floor, he set to work at the console like a madman.
* * * * *
The Zephyrus' electrical system, according to the power monitors and readouts was operating at peak capacity, or rather, would have been sans the current crisis. The instrumentation was reading full power from the power relays and the fusion core was producing at maximum capability. However, the power just seemed to be bleeding off into space. Struggling to hold to the projected flight path, the navigator and helmsman wrestled with the controls as the warp field of the ship threatened to collapse at any given moment and spit them out into whatever situation seemed fit for fate to drop them in. Panic was just barely held at bay. Having been alerted to the imminent disaster, Beverly rushed to the bridge. When she arrived at her intended destination, she was met with mass confusion as the bridge crew scurried around like ants trying to hold together a ship that was quickly dying. She spotted Captain Jensen and had to shout at the woman to be heard.
"Captain! What is going on here!?" The din was almost unbearable.
"We've encountered a phenomenon that's destabilized our entire warp field. The electrical system has done a nose dive on us and we could drop out of warp at any moment. We don't know how, but power is just bleeding away into space. Sensors are only up to about forty-five percent capacity as a result and at that limit we can't detect what, if anything, caused this!" As if to emphasize Captain Jensen's words, the Zephyrus lurched drunkenly and the helm controls exploded in a micro display of fireworks catching the helmsman full in the face. From seemingly nowhere, a med tech was on hand and instantly a group surrounded the man and ushered him off to the cramped office that served as the Zephyrus sickbay. Another man just as easily jumped in the prior helmsman's place only to look up at Jensen and declare, "It's no good, captain! The helm controls are shot! She won't respond!" The Zephyrus was beginning to rattle like a tin can while red alert klaxons blared warnings throughout the cramped medical vessel. Further controls shorted out under the strain and the result sent the ship's main power reactor off-line. With systems hanging on merely by a thread and power reduced to just the barest reserves, the Zephyrus jumped out warp like a cork from a bottle of champagne. The crew clung desperately to whatever was bolted down as the ship began to tumble helplessly as it fell towards a small, sparsely vegetated moon that was in a far orbit around a monstrous gas giant.
* * * * *
Jester's frown deepened when he looked at the readouts. The disturbance the TARDIS had experienced was caused by a dimensional anomaly that was dissecting the continuum. From the energy spike formations, he was able to determine that someone had somehow or other managed to open a rift through to the dimension of null space and it was having an unusual deleterious effect on this small region of space. It had caused an interruption of the TARDIS' time field and with the other damage the ship had sustained, Jester would have to make an emergency landing to effect repairs. The ship was a deathtrap in its current state and the sooner he set down for repairs, the better. He used the TARDIS scanners to locate a suitable body and settled on a small, sparsely vegetated moon that orbited a gas giant. As he plugged the coordinates into the shattered console he wondered to himself, Usually a null space rift is used as a trap for spaceships. I wonder who was the intended victim and why? He continued to ponder the notion as the TARDIS hobbled through the vortex to the moon.
* * * * *
The crew of the Zephyrus continued to fight as the ship began to tumble through the moon's upper atmosphere. As the image winked in and out on the main viewer, what little Beverly could see of the place reminded her of the wild plains and prairies of Earth. The moon, however, was not quite as small as Earth's own moon. The repair teams had gone to work on the helm controls and had succeeded in regaining a modicum of control which had allowed them to stop the ship from tumbling. However, their proximity to the planet's surface was such that they would never reduce their speed in order to effect a proper landing. They would either bounce like a pebble or go out in a fiery conflagration that parodied hell.
Beverly had manned one of the stations that Captain Jensen needed to try to land them safely on the moon. She just happened to land at tactical. Barking orders in rapid-fire succession, Jensen had her crew working for all they were worth. Beverly had activated the ship's shields and powered them up as high as they would go on emergency reserves. With the main reactor still off-line, all they had were the maneuvering thrusters and at Jensen's command, the helmsman, Yamato, powered them up to full. The Zephyrus continued its downward spiral...
* * * * *
The TARDIS console shrieked warnings as the null space disturbance finally caused its time field to collapse. The ship was shuddering, but Jester, with a bit of luck, managed to hold the ship together. At last, with much gritting of teeth and a few muttered curses, the ship struggled to materialize on the moon. The usual whisper-like wheezing groan of the ship was hoarse and warped as though the ship was having trouble making a contact point in space-time. At last, the ship phased itself into view, its chameleon circuit activated, standing rather conspicuously on a stretch of white sandy beach. Where seconds before there had been nothing, an old fashioned computer bank complete with tape reels suddenly stood among the pearly white sands.
* * * * *
The Zephyrus screamed through the atmosphere with the mournful wail of a banshee. It left a streaming trail through the atmosphere as it fell closer, hopelessly caught in the gravity of the moon.
"Captain! Engineering reports the main reactor core is ready to be brought on-line!" screamed on of the crew.
"Bring it on-line now!" Jensen screamed back. She was glued to her seat by the gravitational forces but could see the crewman punching in the codes. At last, the main reactor engaged bringing the ship's vital systems up to full, and without any prompting, Yamato brought the ship's engines up to full power in reverse. However, due to the proximity of the ship to the moon's surface, the action was too little, too late.
* * * * *
Jester was standing on the beach surveying the area around him when he heard the ship give its death cry overhead. From what he could see, the ship was only a mere one hundred meters in length and its white surface was scarred from its entry into the atmosphere. It quickly disappeared from his view and he gave chase to see if anyone was hurt or in need of assistance. He raced towards the cliffs that overlooked the beach and found a well-worn trail that led up the side to the plain beyond. He had only just begun his ascent when an earth-shattering roar sounded through the air accompanied by a rumble that caused him to lose his balance. He regained his balance and continued his climb until he cleared the precipice of the cliff. Looking off in the distance to his right, he noticed the immense burn trail where the ship had impacted and had slid over the ground before finally coming to rest near a stand of trees. Small brush fires were burning and amazingly, from this distance, the ship itself seemed no worse for wear considering what it had just been subjected to. Fearing the worst, Jester made a beeline for the ship.
The Zephyrus had managed to land on its belly and the combination of shields and thrusters and main drive in reverse had slowed its acceleration enough so that the ship had not burst apart on impact. Structurally it still seemed quite sound. The bridge was a dark chamber of smoking panels and snapping and popping electrical connections. Captain Jensen had been thrown from her seat over the navigation console and lay on the floor with a nasty gash across her forehead. The navigation console itself had splintered and shards of alloy had torn both the navigator and helmsman Yamato's upper torso to shreds of flesh that hang limply exposing raw muscle and nerve endings. Their faces were masses of bloody pulp and one had an eye dangling from its socket by the nerve attached to it. It was near impossible to tell the condition of the rest of the occupants of the bridge, much less the ship and it was this concern that tumbled through Jester's mind as he picked his way through the wreckage. He had managed to find an access port and to his trained eyes, the ship was salvageable. He felt pity and sadness in his twin hearts for the people who he could tell had died here and he continued looking until he came to one woman who stood out from the others. She was dressed in the uniform of a medical practitioner and he bent to examine her. There was a nasty bruise on her forehead and he could tell that her arm had been broken in the crash as the bloody bone of her forearm protruded through her sleeve. Detecting her erratic breathing he set about seeking to administer first aid. He returned a few minutes later after searching the ship's sickbay, disgusted that everything of practical use seemed to be rendered inoperable. He was surprised to note, however, that many of the systems were in working order and hopefully with some help from the remainder of this ship's crew, he could help them to get her space-worthy again. There was no medical help to be had here, though, he noted sadly and the only way to even have a chance was by helping the unconscious doctor before him recover. Dreading the decision he was about to make, he determined he really had no other course of action open to him. Bending down, he delicately scooped the woman into his arms and headed for his TARDIS.
Beverly had been having the most bizarre dream. She saw herself on a ship that was about to crash on an alien moon and then the world went an odd opalescent color from which emerged a rather strangely dressed man who carried her off to wonderland. A smile begin to pull at the edges of her mouth as consciousness began to return to her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she cast quick glances about her, taking in her new and strange surroundings. Oh my God, she thought, I've finally died and ended up in Heaven's waiting room for shattered doctors. It was just a moment later, when she caught sight of the man from her dream, that she screamed bloody murder in surprise. A small logical voice in the back of her mind sarcastically hinted a line from an ancient Earth entertainment called the Wizard of Oz for which she had seen holo-vids of as a child and grown to love; Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.
Jester had not expected that reaction from his patient. Indeed, he wasn't sure what, if anything, to expect. He certainly didn't expect her to make so quick a recovery. She tried to sit up in the bed Jester had chosen for her and winced in pain as she put pressure on her broken arm. Switching to her good arm she propped herself up and unleashed a barrage of questions at her host, "What's going on here? Where am I? What's happened to the Zephyrus crew? What in the hell is this place and just who in the almighty fuck are you!?" Jester was caught slightly off guard and her language did little to immediately endear her to him. He stumbled back, taken by surprise by her verbal tirade and attempted to talk to her sensibly after she had calmed down.
"Are you quite finished, my lady," he began, "because you were fairly turning the air black with language like that." Beverly looked like she was about to launch into Jester again when she consciously bit back her words and growled, "Who are you and where have you brought me?" Her green eyes glinted in the light of the TARDIS sickbay like emeralds. Making himself at home at the foot of her bed, he gave her a lopsided grin and said, "You my dear were rescued by myself from a probable death from the inside of that flying tin can out there. I saw your ship crash and immediately pursued you to render any assistance. Most of the crew seemed alive but some were not so lucky. I recognized your uniform as most probably being of a medical nature and so, I decided that the sooner you were well, the sooner you could tend to your crewmates." Beverly just sat stunned for a second before she uttered a simple squeak, "Oh." She was taken by her host's manners and how well-spoken he was for he looked like a court jester from ancient times. He continued, "And to answer your questions, What's going on is you are injured, this place is the medical bay of my ship, the crew of the Zephyrus, as you called it, are either dead or seriously wounded, this medical bay is part of my ship, the TARDIS, and my name is Armindjesteranimavoth." He spouted the answers off so rapid-fire that she had to shake her head, especially at the sound of his name.
"Arm-in-a-what-did-you-say?" she asked incredulously.
"Armindjesteranimavoth," he replied, "I'm usually known to my friends as The Jester. I like it better and it's infinitely easier on the tongue." He stuck out a hand to shake hers. She hesitated, caught unawares by his open friendliness, finally reciprocating by accepting the proffered palm. "I'm Beverly," she stated as they shook hands. He stood and grinned like a loon as he said, "Beverly, I've the feeling that this could be the start of a beautiful friendship." No shit, Sherlock, as she amused herself with that thought.
Deep under the moon's crust, something began to stir from an eons old dormancy. All over the moon, minute tremors shook the surface...
