Star Trek Independence - Nightmares

                                                                        1.

It had been a busy few days for the crew of the USS Independence.

First, the trip through the singularity that had placed them more than 80.000 light years from Earth.

Then, the Katarans and their restrictive society. They had come offering assistance after the cataclysmic trip through the singularity, and at first, the crew had accepted it gladly. Then, two crewmen had been arrested and sentenced to "rehabilitation" - a kind of selective brainwash - after eating meat on the planet. The populace wanted to kill them, but since they were off-worlders, the police had settled for this more “humane” punishment. Captain Calhoun and Commander Glenn had fought long and hard to get them released - the condition was, that the Independence brought 4 Katarian sociologists along on their journey for one year. Then, they would be off the hook.

The problems escalated when Lt. Sharon Riker apparently vanished on the Katarian world, and had to be brought back with force.

Latest of all, the crew had made first contact with the Kaa, a snakelike species of traders. They traded everything - even humanoid slaves. However, they ate the slaves as well - and the crew had been quite shocked to discover, that the dinner they had been invited to on the Kaa ship consisted of human flesh.(All except Sharkar, who claimed that the meat had been overcooked, and Calhoun who came from a primitive society, where eating dead comrades was all in a days work.)

Calhoun took pity on the slaves, however, and bought the entire shipment from the Kaa. They were sent home on a Katarian warship yesterday.

Now, as he leaned back in his chair on the bridge, Calhoun hoped they could have a few days of peace and quiet. He really needed it.

The bridge intercom beeped. "Summers to the bridge."

"Bridge here, go ahead", Miranda, the operations manager, responded.

"Inform the captain, we have found a stowaway in the cargo bay!"

Miranda looked back at Calhoun, who straightened up in his chair.

"He heard you, Summers. Stand by."

Calhoun looked at Sharkar, the Klingon chief of security.

"Sharkar, get down there and find out what it's all about. Then, bring the stowaway up to the bridge. I want to talk to him!"

"Aye, captain".

Sharkar headed for the turbolift. He asked for the cargo bay, and the lift dropped him off outside the large doors to the bay. He put his hand on his phaser, just in case. Then he went in.

Summers stood in the corner, but she had no weapon drawn. Sharkar went up to her.

"Where is the stowaway?"

Summers pointed down to the floor. Sharkar looked, and his eyes widened.

In the corner sat a boy at about five. He was dressed in rags and his hair was dirty. His eyes were closes, and he trembled with fear.

"Is this one of the slaves?"

"I think so", Summers replied, "but all slaves were given new clothes and access to the sonic showers. I don't understand why he's so dirty."

"Who are you, boy?", Sharkar asked, his voice firm.

The boy trembled even more. He raised his arms, as to protect himself from a beating.

"Answer me, boy! Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

There was no response.

"Well, maybe you'll talk to the captain instead! Come along!"

Sharkar grabbed his arm, and began dragging the boy along the floor. The boy stumbled to his feet, but made every effort to slow down. Sharkar's grip was firm, however, and they headed for the turbolift.

Summers looked after them. She hoped, the kid would be all right. Sharkar was not the choice she would take for a babysitter.

 

When the turbolift arrived on the bridge, Sharkar pushed the boy out first.

"That is the captain!", he said to the boy, whose eyes became even more scared, "And you'd better talk to him - or he'll punish you severely!"

The boy took a few, struggling steps towards the central bridge area. Calhoun turned and looked at the boy.

"What the...?", he began.

The boy suddenly threw himself, face down on the floor. He shook with fear.

Then, the smell of urine filled the bridge. The boy had wet his pants - or, what was left of them.

"Oh, Gods!", Calhoun exclaimed, looking at the small pool of liquid on the bridge carpet, " Why did nobody tell me it was a little kid? Look at this mess. Will somebody please clean him up?"

Chandra, the Betazoid conn officer, stood from her position.

"I'll do it, Sir."

"Fine. Clean him up, get him some clean clothes and then take him to the ready room. I want to talk to him."

Chandra crouched down, and looked into the boys' dark eyes.

"Come on, big fella. Let's go get you cleaned up."

 

Chandra found it to be a lot harder than she had expected.

The boy would not enter the shower - he screamed and clawed to get away. She wondered why, until she remembered he had been a slave. Maybe the Kaa had used execution chambers that looked like the sonic showers on the Independence.

Finally, she solved the problem by taking the shower with him. That calmed him a little, but he still looked suspiciously at the sonic emitter, as if he expected laser beams to emerge from it. Which was probably exactly what he did expect.

When she had finished cleaning him up, he actually looked quite handsome. His hair was thick and lush, and his eyes dark and deep. He was completely human, except for two small lumps behind his ears. Her empathic abilities could feel him calming down, as he slowly began trusting her a little.

"All right, big fella. Now, when you get dressed, we're going to see the captain..."

His fear immediately returned. She stroked his hair and tried to calm him.

"No. No, it's all right. The captain is a nice man. He won't hurt you. Trust me. I'll go with you – nothing’s going to happen to you."

He looked up at her, his dark eyes burning into hers.

"Will the scary man be there?"

"The scary man?"

"With the...."he gestured to his forehead, indicating ridges. Chandra had to suppress a smile.

"No, he'll be on the bridge. The meeting is with the captain. He's the one with the scar and the purple eyes."

"And you?"

"Yes, and me."

 

When they got back to the bridge, the boy had calmed down somewhat. He looked at Sharkar with fearful eyes, but he stayed close to Chandra, holding her hand.

Calhoun stood. "All right, in my ready room. Glenn, you're with me. Miranda, you have the bridge."

They went into the ready room, and Calhoun went to the replicator.

"Hot chocolate, with cream. Four cups."

The replicator beeped, and four steaming cups appeared. Calhoun divided them between the officers and the boy, and sat behind the desk. Glenn and Chandra sat on the couch, with the boy between them.

"Now, young man, I would like to talk to you. Would that be all right?"

The boy slowly nodded.

"All right. My name is Mackenzie Calhoun, and I'm the captain of this ship. What's your name?"

"Zas...Zastikan."

"Well, Zastikan, it's nice to meet you. Did you come onboard from the Kaa ship?"

Zastikan nodded.

"And your parents? Were they on the ship as well?"

"My parents were taken away to the other place."

"The other place?"

"Sometimes, they would tell us that someone should go to the other place. We never saw them again. My dad said that the other place was next to the kitchen, so you never were hungry anymore."

Calhoun felt sick. The lie was painfully obvious to him. The kid's parents had been used for food - maybe for that very meal, Calhoun had participated in.

"I see. And then you came onboard with the others, when we brought them to our ship."

Zastikan nodded again. He had almost emptied the cup of hot chocolate. Calhoun pushed his cup over to him.

"Here. You look like you could use it."

The boy emptied his cup, and grabbed the new one.

"All right, Zastikan. You did nothing wrong. Chandra, would you take him down to the mess hall and get him something to eat. I'll just discuss the situation with Glenn, and I'll let you know."

"Sure. Come on, Zastikan. Are you hungry?"

The boy nodded emphatically. His eyes lit up at the mention of food.

Chandra and Zastikan left the ready room, and Calhoun looked as his second in command.

"So, what do you think?"
Glenn shrugged.

"I think, we should send him back to his people."

"He has no one to return to. His parents are dead, his fellow slaves are light years from here by now. With the Katarans transwarp drive, they could be in the other end of the galaxy. No, I think he should stay with us."

"Stay here? Mac, this is a warship! Hardly a place for a kid to grow up."

"We're not far from kids ourselves, Jen. Sometimes we forget that, but the fact is back home, people our age are just finishing up the third year of the academy!"

"But we're better than the normal kids - we're Raven Squad."

"Maybe. But I remember, what it was like to grow up without a father and a mother. If I had not had my brother, I would have lost my mind. I don't wish that feeling on anyone, and least of all a small, defenceless boy. No, he stays with us. We just have to find someone who will take him in."

"Take him in?"

"It's not like we can just dump him in a set of quarters. He's no more than five! No, someone has to act as a parent. Get a list of all crewmembers, who had siblings back home, preferably smaller ones. I'll talk to them. Oh, and I think, you can rule out Sharkar."

Glenn looked up into the intercom grid.

"Indy?"

A holographic figure took shape besides the desk. The hologram of the ship's sentient computer was a beautiful red-haired girl about 17. She smiled.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Indy, get me a list of all crewmembers who has brothers or sisters, smaller ones in particular."

A list of names appeared on the console on the desk.

"Fine. Inform these people, we want to see them in the briefing room, immediately."

"I'll do that, Commander. Oh, I could not help overhearing the conversation. Do we have a new crewmember?"

"Yes we do. And I thought we talked about this, Indy - you're not supposed to use the internal sensors for eavesdropping!"

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

The hologram shimmered out of existence.

"Let's go, Commander. We can't let the boy wait long for his new parents!"

 

"...so therefore", Calhoun finished up, "I need a volunteer to take care of Zastikan. Of course, we'll all help take care of him, but someone has to be there for him as "family". So, who will it be?"

The briefing room fell silent. The assembled 27 crewmen looked at each other, afraid to speak. Then, Sharon Riker spoke up.

"Well, if Eric and I can get to share quarters, we can take him in. Like a real family."

Laughter swept through the room. The rumours of Eric McKeon and Sharon Riker had been the ships top subject of gossip the last few days. Apparently, McKeon had called his second in command in for a reprimand, and had wound up sleeping with her. No one knew if it was true, but it was a good subject for conversation.

McKeon looked horrified at Riker, and Calhoun waved her off.

"I don't think, we'll be giving out those double quarters just yet, miss Riker. Anyone else?"

No one spoke.

"Chandra, how about you?"

Chandra looked uncomfortable. She had left the boy on the bridge, where he sat in a turbolift opening, looking very small.

"I....I don't know, Captain. I like him very much...but I don't think I'm cut out to be a mother just yet. I mean...witnessing my social life, he might get traumas or something."

There was scattered laughter around the room.

"Is there really no one who will look after a small, frightened boy?"

"How about you?", the voice of Lt. Steilman sounded from the back of the room, "Don't you have a brother, Captain? Why don't you take him?"

Calhoun felt his cheeks go red. He really, REALLY did not like Steilman - and this time he was going to show him.

"Fine! If no one will take Zastikan - I will! Mr. McKeon, have an extra bed installed in my quarters, and turn the office into a nursery. I expect you to have it done by 1800 hours!"

"Yes, Sir."

"Dismissed!"

The crewmembers left the room quickly, most of them to spread the word that the Captain had just gotten a son.

Calhoun sat down in his chair at the end of the table. Chandra, who stayed behind, put a hand on his shoulder.

"Captain...Mac...I know how selfish I sounded. I'll be glad to help you take care of him - take some of the burden off your shoulders."

"Bless you, Chandra. I will probably need it - I don't know the fist thing about raising a child."

"Don't worry, Captain - at least he likes you."

"You're right. Let's give him a tour of the ship, while they build his new room - then I'll put him to bed. Would you do me the honour of having a glass of Saurian Brandy with me afterwards?"

"Brandy? Real brandy? Where'd you get that?"

"The captain, who brought me to the academy, was fond of it. Her name was Christine Macdonald, and she gave me a bottle as a going away present. I save it for special occasions - and becoming a surrogate father certainly qualifies."

Chandra smiled, and kissed his cheek. He jolted, but she just looked at him.

"You're just so sweet, Mac. I'd love to have a glass with you."

Calhoun grinned.

“If you keep kissing me like that, maybe we’ll have to have more than a drink.”

Chandra let her fingers rub against the back of his neck.

“We just might.”

 

                                                                        2.

“It’s a class 7 nebula”, McKeon explained to the rest of the senior officers, “with composites of argon, krypton and loads of tetrion particles. It also contains large quantities of dilithium!”

The officers around the briefing room table all looked at the captain. Taking the ship though a tetrion field could be dangerous – but if it meant securing a reserve supply of dilithium…

Calhoun leaned forward in his chair.

“Mr. McKeon, do you think it’s possible to capture some of that dilithium?”

“I should think so. If we modify the Buzzard ramscope collectors, we should be able to suck a lot of the dilithium in.”

“Then it’s worth the risk. I don’t want to lie dead in the water 50 light years from the nearest planet, because we didn’t have enough fuel. Make the modifications, McKeon – we’re going in.”

Glenn looked horrified, as did Sharkar.

“Captain, that’s an unnecessary risk! We can stay in the outer perimeter, collect small particles…it won’t be nearly as dangerous.” Glenn’s hair fell into her eyes, and she pushed it back, slightly annoyed.

“Captain, I must agree with the commander. It is a risk to the crew, we really do not need at this point.”

“It will take about a month to get around it. Do you really want me to tell the crew we took a major detour, just because I was afraid of some stray radiation? I’m not going to do that! My decision is made – we are going through that nebula. Your objections are noted. Thank you, dismissed.”

 

Two days had passed, the most peaceful in the Gamma quadrant so far.

The crew of the Independence continued the work on the repairs. The ship had been damaged quite severely in the singularity, and although the Katarans engineers had provided them with spare parts and materials, the work had been slow. McKeon had estimated at least a week, before the ship was back at peak efficiency – but on the second day, he was glad to report to Calhoun, that the ship was operating within normal parameters once again.

Now, as the senior officers returned to the bridge, it felt good to feel the deck plates thrumming with power once again. The Independence was a ship of war – built for fighting the Dominion – and it felt like it.

As Miranda sat down at her console, she noticed a flashing light on the panel.

“Commander, we’re being hailed, from a ship coming out of the nebula.”

Glenn, sitting in the command seat, responded:

“On screen. Captain Calhoun, please come to the bridge.”

The image of an old man appeared on the screen. It was difficult to determine, exactly how he looked, since most of his face was covered with a thick white beard. His eyes were friendly, however. He was smoking a pipe with two heads, and Glenn looked in amazement as green smoke came out one head, while blue smoke came from the other.

“Who are you and where are you heading?”, he asked in a squeaky voice that reminded Glenn of the old sailors, sitting on the dock and telling the tourists about the sea serpents.

“I’m Commander Jennifer Glenn of the starship Independence. We’re heading into the nebula. Are you familiar with it?”

The man laughed.

“Familiar? You could say that, girl. I make my living by it. However, you should not fly into it!”

“Why not?” It was Calhoun’s voice. He had emerged from the briefing room, and now headed for his chair.

“Who are you, sonny?”, the man on the screen asked.

“I’m the Captain of this ship. My name is Mackenzie Calhoun. Why shouldn’t we fly into the nebula?”

The man leaned forward, so his beard almost seemed to touch the screen.

“Because…it’s haunted!”

Calhoun had to restrain himself not to laugh.

“Haunted? You mean…haunted by ghosts?”

“By ghosts, yes. I make my living by collecting dilithium from the nebula…but I never go deeper in than a few minutes. As long as I stay in the outer edges of it, the ghosts leave me alone.”

“Captain…I appreciate your concern. However, this is a fully capable warship, and I’m sure we can deal with the ghosts and goblins and long leggedy beasties. If you have any star charts of the nebula, I would very much like to take a look at them…but we are going through that nebula.”

The bearded man looked dismayed.

“I’m transmitting my star charts to you now. I hope they can be of some help to you, but I still say this is a bad idea, Captain Calhoun. I’ve seen hundreds of ships go into that nebula…but almost never anyone come out again!”

Of course not, you old fool! They came out on the other side!, Calhoun thought. Out loud he said:

“Thank you once again, Captain….”

“I am Makellan. I hope to see you again, Captain Calhoun. You have a beautiful Commander, so I hope for her sake you make it to the other side. You, on the other hand, are a fool to ignore my warning. I’ll stay in the area for a few days, in case you need help.”

“That’s very generous of you. Thank you for your time – we’ll be on our way now. Calhoun out.”

Makellan’s face vanished from the screen.

Glenn looked at him.

“That was rather rude, don’t you think, Captain?”

“Oh, come on, Glenn. The man is talking about spooks! This is the twenty-fourth century, after all. It’s been a while since I checked under my bead for the bogeyman!”

“I don’t know…”Glenn’s voice was quiet.

“Don’t be concerned. We’ll be out of here in no time. Bridge to McKeon – are the dilithium collectors ready?”

“As ready as they’ll ever be, Captain.”

“Good. Chandra, best speed ahead – let’s get this show on the road!”

The independence sped forward, passed Makellan’s ship and vanished into the nebula.

 

                                                                       

 

 

            3.

For the first few hours, the swirling colours of the nebula were a fantastic sight. Then, it got pretty boring. The crewmembers, who at first had been flocking to the viewports, now went on with their daily business, as if nothing had happened out of the ordinary.

In a Jeffries tube on deck 6, McKeon was crouched, trying to find the source of a minor malfunction. His shift ended in 45 minutes, and for all intents he was just killing time. He had an appointment with Sharon on holodeck 3 in 2 hours – he had found a lovely French restaurant he had been meaning to try…..

Someone was behind him.

He spun around, sure it was one of the engineering crew making a prank on him….

No one was there.

McKeon looked around, and raised his tricorder. There was no lifeforms nearby – a little electrical disturbance, which was to be expected this close to the plasma conduits….

He heard a faint whisper, a hushed voice, and he could hear the word “Eric” in his ear…and suddenly, someone was there – right in front of him. An old woman, white hair pulled into a bun. An old woman, dressed in a blue dress and burgundy scarf. An old woman…an old woman he knew.

“Grandma?”

“Hello, Eric.”

“Grandma, you can’t be here! You’re 80.000 light years away!”

“Nonsense, Eric. I’m right here. You can see me, right?”

McKeon shook the confusion off.

“Intruder alert! Security to deck six, section 15! Security….”

His grandma was gone. In her place were two men with iron pipes in their hands. It was Steilman and his older brother!

“It’s payback time, McKeon!”, Steilman howled, and swung the pipe at him.

McKeon ducked, rolled, but he was not fast enough. He felt a head-splitting pain in his temple…and the world became a haze. He tried to raise his arms, tried to protect his head…and another hit struck him. He felt like he was falling into a deep, dark chasm. He welcomed the darkness.

 

When he opened his eyes, he was looking into the determined face of the holographic Doctor.

“So, you’re finally awake, Mr. McKeon. I thought you would sleep until next week!”

“How…how long was I out?”

“A little over an hour. Security found you at the bottom of a two deck deep shaft. You took a nasty fall - you’re lucky you have no broken bones.”

“A fall…Doc, I was struck down! By Steilman, no less! I have to find him.”

“Don’t worry, chief.”

Sharkar’s deep voice sounded in the sickbay. McKeon turned his head, and saw the chief of security sitting in a chair next to is bed.

“You’re going up to the Captain. He want to know, what happened to you, and since you did not sustain any injury in the fall, he would appreciate it, if you would come up to the bridge and tell him about it.”

“All right, let’s go.”

 

They took a turbolift to the bridge. Calhoun listened interested to the story, but seemed to have trouble believing it.

“Eric, don’t you think, you just hit your head on one of the ladder’s steps. You have the marks of two hits on your head – that’s consistent with one step of the ladder – and the bottom of the shaft.”

“Mac, I assure you – it was not the fall! Maybe it was some kind of hallucination – but it was not because I had hit my head. That happened afterwards!”

“All right. I’ve asked Sharon Riker to scan the Jeffries tube. Let’s hear if she’s made any progress. Calhoun to Riker!”

There was no response.

“Indy, locate Sharon Riker!”

“Sharon Riker is on deck six, section 15.”

“There must be something wrong with her communicator. All right, McKeon. Get down there, scan the place from top to bottom and give me a report as soon as possible. Take Chandra with you – maybe she can sense something with her telepathy.”

McKeon nodded, and headed for the turbolift. Chandra stood and followed him.

 

In the turbolift, McKeon once again tried to contact Riker on the communicator. He even tried having Indy patch a comlink directly to the Jeffries tube. Nothing worked.

Chandra put a hand on McKeon’s arm. “You’re worried about her.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I know, you humans don’t find it polite to read the thoughts of others…but it’s pretty obvious, how you feel about her. I’m sure nothing’s wrong.”

McKeon smiled at her.

“Thanks, Chandra. I appreciate it.”

The lift came to a stop, and the doors opened.

 

On the bridge, the intercom suddenly came to life. The sound of phaserfire sounded, and then a voice shouted:

“This is doctor T’Vek! Bridge, can anyone hear me?”

The officers looked at each other. Doctor T’Vek had been the doctor originally assigned to the independence. He had been one of the victims of the trip through the singularity.

“Doctor, T’Vek, is that you?”, Miranda asked, her voice full of wonder.

“It’s me! I’m pinned down on deck 8, there’s a bunch of Cardassians shooting at me…”

An explosion sounded, and the voice continued:

“I need assistance! Repeat, assistance to deck 8, heavily armed!”

Calhoun looked at Glenn.

“Commander, take a security team, get down there, and find out, what the HELL is going on aboard this ship!”

Glenn stood, and gestured to Sharkar.

“Mr. Sharkar, with me. Security team Alpha, this is Glenn. Meet me on deck 8!”

They went into the turbolift and the doors closed behind them.

Calhoun looked at the intercom.

“Indy?”

“Yes, Mac.”

“Can you confirm that there’s a firefight on deck 8?”

“My sensors seem to be malfunctioning, Mac. I have lost visual sensors on approximately 20 % of the ship.”

“WHAT? And I suppose deck 8 is one of them?”

“Affirmative, deck 6, 7 and 8, assorted crew quarters and the mess hall.”

“Indy, locate Zastikan.”

“I can’t seem to find him at the moment, Mac.”

“Where was he, when you last saw him?”

“In your quarters.”

“Do you have sensors in my quarters?”

“Negative.”

“Damn! Calhoun to anyone on deck 3, section 4.”

A moment went by, then the answer came:

“This is Ensign Bearclaw. What can I do for you, Sir?”

“Bearclaw, please go into my quarters, and pick up Zastikan. Bring him to the bridge – and keep an open comlink.”

“Aye, Sir. I’m walking towards the door…I’m opening the door, and….My GOD!”

Bearclaw screamed, and the channel went dead.

Calhoun sat in his chair, his face gone completely pale. His scar had turned a burning red.

“Indy, red alert. All crew to battle stations. Helm, come about. I guess Captain Makellan was right after all. This place IS haunted. Take us out of the nebula, best speed.”

The ensign at conn stared at his panel, his face stunned with surprise.

“Um, Captain…I don’t think I can.”

 

                                                                        4

 

The turbolift doors parted, and Chandra and McKeon stepped out. They had taken almost two steps, before they realized something was wrong.

This was not deck 6.

The corridor was darker, with support beams and a different style in wall panels and carpet. Also, it seemed to be a lot larger than the corridors on the Independence usually was.

"What the bloody hell...?", McKeon whispered.

Chandra slapped her combadge. "Chandra to bridge."

Nothing.

McKeon looked at a computer panel next to the turbolift.

"According to this panel, we're on Deep Space 4!"

"That's impossible. That station has been shut down for 20 years - and besides, it's on the other side of the galaxy."

"Well, then somebody forgot to tell the turbolift about it."

Chandra took a few steps forward. She reached out with her mind, trying to find some kind of explanation, some proof that this was an illusion. But as far as her mind worked, it was all too real. And they were not alone.

"McKeon, there's three people coming this way. I don't know who, but they read as very aggressive."

McKeon pulled out his tricorder and scanned the area. He took a step forward...and the turbolift closed behind them.

He tried to step back, but he was not fast enough. The doors stayed shut.

"Let's get out of here", Chandra said, pulling on his sleeve, "if this is really DS4, maybe we can get to the control room. There's got to be a subspace transmitter left, so we can call help."

McKeon nodded. "You're right. Let's go."

Cautiously, they moved down the corridor. McKeon held the tricorder ahead of him, trying to make some sense of its readings. Suddenly, the life sign detector beeped. Two life forms straight ahead, two to the left.

A sound like a gunshot filled the corridor. The wall next to Chandra exploded in a shimmer of sparks.

"LET'S GET 'EM, PA!", a high-pitched voice howled, "LET'S GET THOSE PESKY CRITTERS!"

The two officers threw themselves to the floor, as another shot ripped through the air above them.

"Don't shoot!", McKeon shouted, "we're Starfleet officers! We mean you no harm!"

"Get off our land, you dammed intruders", the voice of an old man came from the darkness.

"You'd best run fast, critters!", another voice came from their left, "I've got you in my sight, and on the count of three I'm gonna pull the trigger! One...."

Chandra and McKeon got to their feet, and began running.

 

The sound of phaser fire greeted Glenn and Sharkar, when they stepped out on deck 8.

Bolts of energy flew past them, as the security team exchanged fire with about 10 Cardassians longer down the corridor. Across the corridor, they could see Doctor T'Vek slumped in a door opening.

"Get down there and help them. I'll see to the doctor!", Glenn shouted. Sharkar nodded, and pulled out his own phaser. He ran for the fight.

Glenn kneeled down next to the doctor. He looked up at her with eyes that were hazy with pain.

"Commander, it's good to see you!"

"Are you hurt, doctor?"

"No, I'm fine. They came out of nowhere - I just tried to keep them away."

Glenn stood, and took a few steps towards the fire fight. The security team was driving the Cardassians back. Soon, they would be taken care of.

Sharkar turned his head to look at her, and swung his phaser around.

"Commander, get down!"

Glenn did not understand, until a grey hand suddenly fell on her shoulder. She turned around, surprised, and saw an impossible sight.

Doctor T'Vek was on his feet again, but something had happened to him. He looked grey skinned, his face was that of a skull with the skin barely stretched out over the bones. He was holding his phaser up, pointing at Glenn.

She threw herself to the deck, and a phaser beam missed her by a few centimetres. A second later, Sharkar fired back, hitting the walking corpse in the chest.

Doctor T'Vek fell down, his body making a rattling sound, like bones clattering.

Slowly, Glenn crawled to a door opening, and leaned on the door for support. She was about to stand up, when the door opened, and she fell into a small laboratory. The door slid shut behind her.

"Get up!"

Glenn's eyes widened. In front of her was her drill sergeant from the academy - Commander Salvatore.

"On your feet, cadet!", he shouted, and Glenn stood to attention. She felt ridiculous - this could not possibly be Salvatore. But the motion was so automatic- she could not help it.

"I'm really not impressed with you, cadet! Gallivanting around the galaxy with your friend, doing as you damned well please...that's not the Starfleet way! Now, get down and give me 50 push-ups...on your fingertips!"

"But, Sir...", Glenn tried.

Salvatore's foot came out, and kicked her hard in the belly. Glenn went down, wheezing.

"No buts, cadet. On my count! One..."

Glenn was just about to go down on her belly, when the situation was clear to her.

She raised her phaser and fired at the person in front of her.

Professor Salvatore vanished in a shower of electrical sparks. Glenn took a slow, painful breath and tapped her communicator.

"Glenn to Sharkar."

There was no response from the combadge, but from outside the door came the sound of voices.

The door opened, and Sharkar came in. He looked at her.

"Commander, are you all right? "

She shook her head. Her stomach was a giant lump of pain.

"We'd better get you to sickbay."

"No, I've got to get to the bridge. I have to talk to the captain."

Sharkar called in two security guards. They lifted her up, supported her until her legs could carry her by herself. She walked to the turbolift, the firefight behind her still going on. She did not give it a second glance.

She was going to make Calhoun turn this ship around, even if it meant he had to get out and push.

 

"What do you mean, you don't think you can?"

The ensign pointed to his control panel. Where there would normally be a small circle with eight pointers, used to steer the ship in space - there was now a multitude of colours. The circle was still there...but it jumped back and forth across the panel, never resting in the same place twice.

"That's impossible!", Calhoun snarled.

"I know, Captain. It shouldn't be able to do that. But...somehow it does."

"Indy, can you hear me?"

Indy's voice sounded from the bridge speakers.

"Yes, Mac. I hear you."

"Do you still have access to the helm controls?"

"I do, Mac. However, since all my external sensors went off-line a few seconds ago, I have no way of knowing which way to go."

Calhoun slapped his forehead in frustration.

"All right, Indy. Give me a twelve second burst from the left thrusters, and the same from the right - but reversed. That should bring us about 180 degrees."

"All right, Mac. Hang on."

The ship shook slightly.

"I think, we are turning, Captain. However, you should be advised - the inertial dampeners just went off-line."

"Great. Just great. Increase power to the structural integrity field. We should be out in a couple of hours."

The ensign nodded. "Aye, sir."

"Do any of you know, why Miranda has not reported for duty?"

The ensign smiled.

"She had a party with Commander Glenn last night, Sir. They drank some of her real liquor. I guess, Miranda can't really hold her liquor."

"Fine. Then you have the conn, ensign. I'm going to my quarters, to get Zastikan."

Calhoun headed for his ready room.

"Sir...isn't that the wrong door?"

"I'm going to get a little something to fight off these spooks."

Calhoun went into the ready room, and approached the far wall. On it, displayed over his desk and chair, was his sword. He had taken it from an enemy long ago, when he had fought in the freedom war. Now, he would need it again.

He pulled it off the wall, and drew it. It felt good in his hand, felt...just right.

"Turn around, M'K'N'Z!"

He froze. The voice spoke his name in Xenexian, his native tongue. A human had difficulty pronouncing it right - which was why he had taken the name Mackenzie, the closest approximation - but this sounded like a D'anteri. The species that had suppressed his people for decades.

He turned. By the door stood the largest D'anteri, he had ever seen. Three meters at least - and he was holding a sword that matched his height.

"Defend yourself, M'K'N'Z!", the giant bellowed, and lifted his sword.

Calhoun closed his eyes.

"It's not real. It's an illusion."

The sword came within an inch of his face, cleaving the desk in two.

Calhoun jumped to the right, and lifted the sword to attack.

Slowly, the two men began circling each other in the small room.

Calhoun saw a chance, jumped forward and swung his sword. The giant's head was almost cut off, but was still attached by a thin strand of flesh.

"You will pay for that!", the giant informed him, and swung again.

Calhoun felt a sharp pain in his left arm, and was spun around by the impact. He tipped over the pieces of the desk and fell to the floor.

The giant stood over him, lifting the sword to deliver a killing blow....

...and stopped. Calhoun's sword was buried to the hilt in his chest.

Without a word, he slumped back, and fell to the floor. While falling, his body vanished in a sparkle of energy.

Calhoun slowly stood, and reached for the sword. It lay on the floor, not a mark on it.

He picked it up, and went back to the bridge.

"Your arm, Captain!", the ensign gasped, "You're hurt. You should go to sickbay."

"I'm fine. It's just a scratch. I'm off to my quarters. You have the bridge."

Calhoun went into the turbolift, and the doors closed behind him.

One moment later, the other turbolift opened, and Glenn walked out.

"Where's the captain?"

"He had to get the kid, ma'am."

"Of course. What was I thinking? Of course that little brat is more important to him than his place on the bridge during a crisis..."

"Commander", the ensign interrupted her, "there's a ship approaching. It's hailing us."

"Is it Markellan?"

As reply, a voice boomed from the bridge speakers. A voice, Glenn so far had only heard in her nightmares:

"WE ARE THE BORG. YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!"

 

                                                                        5

 

Chandra and McKeon ducked the shells from the archaic guns, the three strange humans fired at them. Around them, DS4's wall panels, ceilings and support beams were littered with holes from the buckshot's.

Finally, they came to a dead end.

"They're right behind us!", Chandra shouted and ducked for one more shot.

"Don't you think I know that?", McKeon snapped back.

Suddenly, they spotted a turbolift, almost hidden by a fallen support beam.

"Let's get in there!", Chandra shouted.

They ran for the doors. They were closed, and appeared to be locked with an override code.

"It's locked", McKeon yelled, trying different codes on the keypad.

"Then open it!"

"What do you think I'm trying to do? The macarena?"

A shot came from behind them, and a large hole appeared in the support beam. The ceiling began to buckle.

 "Just open it!", Chandra screamed, keeping her head down as best she could.

McKeon tried one more combination - his birthday.

The door slid open.

In a single second, the two officers threw themselves into the lift. Behind them, several shots were fired and the interior of the lift was filling with holes.

"Deck 6!", Chandra shouted, just to get the lift to respond.

The doors closed behind them, and the lift began moving.

They had just time enough to look at each other and see the same look of fear in the others eyes, before the doors opened again.

Before them was some kind of store. People moved about, examining different things - clothes, shoes, hats -from various shelves. But the clothes...were so old.

A little girl looked at them, pointed her finger at them, and pulled on her mothers arm with the other hand.

"Mommy, mommy, look! Weird people!"

The mother looked at them, and then at her daughter.

"It's not nice to point, Lucinda. Even if they do look silly."

Chandra and McKeon looked at each other. Then they looked at the turbolift they were standing in.

It had changed as well - into an old style Earth elevator. A very nice looking elevator, as it were.

Slowly the two officers moved out of the elevator. McKeon pulled out his tricorder, made it noise-less and swung it around.

"According to the pollution content of the atmosphere, I'd say we're in the early 20th century. 1930's or somewhere close. And this place...", he looked up at the skylight, "This is Macy's department store in New York City. I've been here before - with my mother, when I was a kid."

"Yeah, it's nice. Where do we find a time machine?"

"We don't. We wait, until the ghosts are done with us."

Slowly, they walked through the store to the exit. Just when they had passed the door, a black car pulled up in front of the entrance. 3 men with tommyguns jumped out, ran for the door and began shooting into the store.

McKeon and Chandra took cover in a small niche in the wall, from where they watched the men with the guns threatening the customers in the store.

After a few minutes, the men ran out again, carrying large bags filled with money.

"They've robbed the store. Look, that's money falling out of his bag!"

McKeon pointed at a few paper bills that had fallen out of the bag, and now floated on the wind.

McKeon reached out and grabbed them. He stuffed them in the pocket on the side of his leg.

"Why'd you do that?", Chandra asked.

"If we're going to be here a while, it would be nice to have some money. We have to eat, you know, and at this time, everybody used money."

"What a barbaric age", Chandra said and shook her head.

They continued down the street.

 

Glenn felt the cold fear creep over her, but she made her voice sound calm.

“Battle stations, everybody. We have to get some weapons online, if we’re to fight the Borg.”

“Why should we fight the Borg?”

The question puzzled her, and she turned to face the officer at tactical, who had asked. She took one look and had to bite down on her lip not to scream.

The Lieutenant was already a Borg. His artificial eye blinded her with a red beam of light.

“The Borg is the best way to get home”, the ensign at Ops said. She was a Borg as well.

The Ensign at the conn stared wide eyed at his colleagues. Then, his eyes glazed over, and Implants began rupturing his skin. He opened his mouth, and what came out was the Borg Uni-voice:

“The Borg….is perfection. Resistance is futile.”

Glenn did not wait around and see who would be next. She sprinted for the turbolift – but it did not open.

“Indy!”, she screamed, “Site-to-site transport from the bridge to deck 3! Energize!”

What came back, was an evil chuckle.

“Why would I want to do that, Jennifer?”

A mechanical arm grabbed her. It was Ensign Parker from the science station – now a twisted parody of a human. Glenn tried desperately to fight it of – but then she felt the assimilation tubes biting into her neck. Implants began to rupture her skin in different places. She heard the Uni-voice again – but this time in her mind.

And this time she did scream.

 

Calhoun approached his quarters carefully. The corridor seemed normal enough, but you never knew…

He reached the door, and listened for a few seconds. He heard nothing – but the door was locked.

He punched in his override code, and the door opened.

What he saw was a long stretch of beach, green hills behind it…and lots of soldiers.

His sharp eye could see at least two different kinds of uniforms, and from the look of it, one side got butchered. Large, square boats were coming in to the low water and dumped hundreds of troops, who then made a run for the hills. Most of them went down, but a few actually made it.

Calhoun checked his phaser rifle. He had taken it from a weapons locker on the way, and he was glad he had. His sword would not do him much good out there.

To the left of the door, he spotted Ensign Bearclaw. There was no doubt in his mind, that the man was dead. He had been hit squarely in the chest by a large bullet or granade. It had torn half of his torso off.

Calhoun closed his eyes a moment, trying to summon the instincts from all those years ago. His primitive warrior instincts. His breath became slower, his hands were calm.

Then he opened his eyes and stepped through the door.

Immediately, he felt the wind in his hair, and smelled the blood from the wounded. He began running along the beach, stopping every 10 meters to look for Zastikan.

Bullets hit the sand a few inches in front of his feet. He spun, saw the gunner and swung his rifle to fire…but it was no longer a phaser rifle. It had turned into an old style repeater rifle.

He aimed and fired. The backfire shocked him, made him stumble. Even on his primitive planet, they had used energy weapons.

The bullet struck home, however, and the gunner fell down. Calhoun felt the rush of the kill, but pushed it back. He had to focus.

Two soldiers came out of the water, and took cover behind a pile of dead bodies a few meters ahead. Calhoun threw himself down beside them, as a long machinegun salvo ripped through the air next to him.

The soldiers gave him a strange look.

“Who the hell are you, kid?”, one of them asked, speaking in a strong American accent.

“I’m…Sergeant Calhoun, 2. Battalion”, Calhoun replied, drawing on his academy history lessons on classic Earth military.

“The second’s way over there. You get lost, kid?”

“No, I’m…”

Calhoun turned the matter over in his mind, and decided it would do no harm to question them. It wasn’t as if he was violating the prime directive, for the Gods’ sake.

“I’m looking for a boy, about five years old. Have you seen him?”

“A boy?”, the other soldier asked. He had a definite British accent.” No, I have not seen any boy.”

“Say, son, what’s that strange uniform you’re wearing?”

Calhoun opened his mouth to explain, but suddenly a bullet struck the American in the head. He was thrown to the ground, and the British soldier got on his feet.

“Get movin’, my friend”, he shouted over his shoulder, “There’s no children on Omaha Beach!”

From the gun nest up the hill came the sound of shouting:

"Ach! Verdammt zur...hölle!"

The shots stopped.

Calhoun got up, and began moving again. Then, a sharp pain struck his left leg, and he fell down.

He lay flat on the ground, and tried to look at his leg. It looked like a sledgehammer had hit the kneecap. The pain was gigantic, and only his training and high pain threshold kept him from passing out.

“I have to get out of here”, he thought. “If Zastikan was taken here, he’s already dead. There’s nothing more I can do – least of all with a leg that’s been shut to kingdom come.”

He looked back along the beach.

Almost 300 meters away, he could see the door, he had come in through. It stood in the sand, apparently unnoticed by the soldiers. But he could not run that far – and not crawl, either.

Then he looked at the water, and made the decision.

He rolled towards the water, his leg a lightning rod of pain, sending sharp explosions into his mind for every meter. When he reached the water, he let himself float on the waves. The current took him a little outward, and when he got floating he used his arms to propel himself.

He could hardly see anything – the water had turned a dark shade of red from all the blood – he was relying entirely on instinct.

Slowly, painfully, he swam for the door back to his world.

 

Chandra and McKeon were still on the broad street, looking at the houses and people (and getting funny looks from most people), when a little voice was heard over the street noise.

“Mima!”

Chandra turned, surprised over the use of her first name (since everybody in Raven Squad called her by her last name, she had almost forgotten it) and saw Zastikan running up to her.

He threw himself in her arms, and she hugged him back.

“I’m so glad to see you”, she said into his ear, “Where have you been?”

“In the tunnel. I came out of the moving thing.”

McKeon put his hand on the boy’s arm.

“What tunnel? What moving thing?”

“The moving thing.”

Zastikan pointed to a stairway, leading into the street. A sign hung over it, but the word meant nothing to either Chandra or McKeon:

SUBWAY

“I’ll show you!”, the boy said, and pulled on Chandra’s arm. They followed him to the stairs, and into a cool, moist darkness that smelled of diesel and smoke.

After following the stairs for what seemed forever, they came down to a large platform. On both sides, large transport vessels stood, filling up with people.

McKeon pulled out his tricorder.

“There’s a strong energy source inside that vessel”, he said, and pointed to the one on the left, “I think it’s some kind of holoprojector – but unlike ours in almost any way.”

“Let’s find out.”

 They approached the vessel, and two doors opened before them. They stepped through…

…and was back in the Independence turbolift. There was no doubt this time.

McKeon looked at the intercom. “Indy, halt turbolift.”

Abruptly, they stopped.

“Can you hear me, Indy?”, McKeon asked.

“Yes, Eric. Unfortunately, you seem to be one of the only ones who can hear me. Everybody else hears different versions of their worst nightmares.”

“Indy, what’s the status of the ship?”

“I have lost 78 % of my internal sensors, and 67 % of the crew is unaccounted for. Weapons are off line, external sensors are at 10 %…”

“All right, enough. How’s main engineering?”

“It’s fine, as far as I can tell. My sensors are still functioning there.”

“Take us there.”

The lift started again. McKeon looked at Chandra.

“We have to re-establish control from engineering. Are you up for a challenge?”

“Always.”

“Good. Keep that thought – we might need it.”

The doors slid open, and they stepped out in engineering. It looked deserted, but with the pandemonium on the ship, you couldn’t be sure.

“Grab a phaser, and cover me, while I transfer helm control to this station. Then you’ll have to fly us out of this nebula with only 10 % sensors.”

“No problem.”

The console changed to the helm console. McKeon looked at the status indicator.

“And no inertial dampeners, either.”

“Piece of cake”, Chandra said, sitting down before the console, “buckle up, chief. We’re blowing this joint!”

                                                                        6

 

Sharkar and his team were riding a turbolift to the bridge. They had been successful in fighting of the Cardassians, and were now on the way to look for the Commander. They had checked sickbay, but aside from the holographic doctor, there had been empty. Whatever was happening, people wasn’t getting sick.

The doors slid open, and the team stepped out into a Borg cube. Or so it seemed at first.

It was still the bridge, no doubt about it. The contours were the same, and behind the Borg technology, the familiar Starfleet panels could still be seen. But the entire bridge crew were Borg.

Sharkar stared at Commander Glenn, who stood in the centre of what had once been the bridge.

“We are Borg”, Glenn said, her voice that of the Borg collective. ”You will be assimilated.”

“Not today”, Sharkar replied, “Fire at will!”

The team’s phasers fired at the Borg drones in perfect co-ordination – and were deflected back.

“They’ve adapted!”, Blake said dryly.

The drones moved in, surrounding them.

 

Calhoun crawled out of the water, dragging his left leg behind him like dead weight. He was soaked in blood. He felt, like he was five seconds away from blacking out from the pain. But he had to go on.

Slowly, the door came closer and closer. When his fingers touched the doorframe, he looked to his side. Bearclaw was still laying there, blood on his uniform.

“I can’t leave him here!”, Calhoun thought.

“Slowly, painfully, he got his arm around Bearclaw’s neck, and dragged him along. Then, they were almost in the opening…

“Halt! Hände hoch!”

He looked up. A German soldier stood before them, rifle pointed. Calhoun pushed back, hoping that they would become invisible, once they were in the corridor again.

He felt the carpet of the corridor under his hands, felt his feet dragging over the doorstep…

And the German could still see him. He raised the rifle to fire….

 

“Somebody’s hailing us”, Chandra said.

“What?” McKeon, who had been biting his nails and trying to repair the external sensors at the same time, looked up.

“We’re being hailed. And you being the senior officer, I think you should answer it.”

“Right. Let’s hear it.”

On the small screen at the workstation, Makellan’s bearded face appeared.

“You’re on the right track, my friends”, he said encouragingly, “just correct your course to 5-3-1, mark 2-1-0.”

Chandra made the corrections.

“I’m so glad to see you again”, the old man said, “how’s that fully capable warship of yours?”

“We’ve suffered some damage, but we’ll have to inspect everything manually to see exactly how much.”

“I’ll help you in any way I can. I’d like to do that pretty Commander of yours a favour.”

McKeon grinned.

“We’re leaving the nebula!”, Chandra cheered.

Suddenly, the space around them was back o normal. Around engineering, monitors began showing signs of life again. There was a jolt, as the inertial dampeners came back on line.

“All stop. Let’s see if we can get some order restored to this ship.”

Chandra smiled at him.

“Aye…Sir.”

 

…and the German was gone.

Instead, he saw a glimpse of his own quarters, before the door slid shut.

Bearclaw gasped, and tried to sit up.

Calhoun looked at him. The shattered torso was healed. Now, there was only what looked like a small flesh wound in the man shoulder.

His own leg hurt a lot less as well. It looked to be just dislocated.

“Bridge to Calhoun.”

Sharkar’s voice came over the combadge.

“Calhoun here, go ahead.”

“Sir, the bridge has been secured. It looked like the ship had been attacked by Borg – but it looks like they are coming out of it now. Command control has been routed to main engineering. Commander McKeon is in command of the ship.”

“Very well, Mr. Sharkar. Contact Mr. McKeon, and tell him to enjoy the big chair. Get the bridge up and running again.”

“How are you, Sir?”

“I’m fine. Well, as fine as can be expected when you’ve just had your leg blown almost off. I’ll go to sickbay. I’ll see you later. Calhoun out.”

“Do you need any help, Captain?”

Bearclaw stood, and held out his hand.

Calhoun got to his feet, and together, they began the long trip to sickbay.

 

“Captain’s log, stardate 56043.4.

Let it be entered into the log, that I was wrong, and commander Glenn and Mr. Sharkar was right. Going through the nebula was a bad idea. But at least, we’ve got some spare dilithium now.

We’ve plotted a course along the perimeter of the nebula. Captain Makellan assures me, that the “ghosts” will leave us alone when we stay out here.

The Ghosts. Even now, it seems hard to describe them completely. My science officer has offered the explanation, that the ghosts were actually electric life forms, capable of altering the electric impulses in our brains – making us feel pain and fear. Other theories have been posed – from real ghosts to holographic projections. The last theory has been supported by a strong power source, observed by Chief McKeon and Lieutenant Chandra. We are now cruising at warp 5, heading for home."

Calhoun turned of the log.

Glenn leaned in to talk to him.

“Captain, how about the last option?”

“What’s that?”

“Well…I read some of the reports on the entity the Enterprise encountered several times – the one called Q.”

Calhoun shook his head.

“No, this is not Q. It’s not his style at all. He likes to show himself – to brag about what he’s doing. I don’t think Q has any interest in a ship like ours.”

Glenn leaned back in her chair.

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’m almost always right, Commander. But only almost.”

McKeon entered the bridge. "Captain, may I have a word with you?"

"Of course, chief. What's up?"

McKeon put his hand in his pocket, and drew out some crumpled pieces of paper.

"These are Dollar bills, Sir. I picked them up in the 1930's New York I visited with Chandra. I thought, they would disappear along with the rest of the ghosts. But they're still here."

Calhoun stood. "In my ready room, Chief."

McKeon followed Calhoun into the ready room. On the wall, next to the sword, hung an old style Earth rifle.

"This used to be a phaser rifle. It changed shape, when I was transported to that Beach in my quarters. But it's still the same after we left the nebula. I have scanned it. It's been changed on the molecular level."

"How's that possible?"

Calhoun rubbed his scar thoughtfully.

"I don't know. I just....don't know."

 

The Independence continued on its course.

And somewhere, in the deep darkness of space…. there was a small, gleeful chuckle.

“Oh, my young friends”, it said, “you have NO idea of what’s to come…”