Alan Decker's Star Traks (though all the other Star Traks series deserve mention for 
 inspiration),and these in turn are based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry. Last thing 
 I knew Paramount and Viacom owned Star Trek, but with weird stuff happening there I don't 
 think they know who owns it, though CBS might be in there somewhere. Anyway, I don't. If you do 
 own Star Trek, drop me an e-mail and I'll credit you for having enough money to buy the franchise.
 
 
 
 Copyright 2007. All rights reserved.
 
 
 Rated PG (by author, who knows nothing about ratings). But I don't think there's any foul 
 language, just a couple insults and gory deaths. Nothing worse than you get in primary school 
 playgrounds these days.
 
 
                       #########################################
                       ###STAR TRAKS: THE INCONGRUOUS VOYAGES###
                       #########################################
                       ########Season One: Episode Six##########
                       #########################################
                       ###############Jabobo 2.0################
                       #########################################
                       #################by RPS##################
                       #########################################
 
 
            2417

    "So I kicked Alvin Ficker in the nuts, and I'll tell you it felt damn good." 
  Admiral (Retired) Andrew Baxter told a mass of children as they sat around 
  him in his study in his house. Several of them didn't seem to be completely 
  human, with plenty of strange ridges, spots and antennae decorating their 
  heads, but at least most of them looked entirely human. Sort of.
    "Andy, I've already told you not to use language like that in front of the 
  grandchildren. You keep it up and I swear I'll have one of those profanity 
  filter's installed on you." Kelly Peterman said angrily, resting against the 
  doorframe.
    "Yes Kelly." Baxter said, looking embarrassed and looking away from his wife.
    "Come on kids, dinner's ready!" Grandma Kelly said, shooeing the children out 
  of the study and into the kitchen.
    "I'll be with you in a second honey." Baxter said, leaning back in his chair, 
  the old Command Seat from the USS Explorer. He closed his eyes for a minute, 
  resting, reveling in his memories of years gone by. When he opened his eyes 
  again there was one child still sitting in the room on front of him.
    "What is it Prendick? Don't you want dinner?" Baxter asked.
    "Tell more stories! More!" The boy, no older than 7 or 8 years old, asked.
    "Another story? Have I told you about when we went back in time to 1990's 
  Earth?" Baxter asked. The boy nodded, he'd heard this story already. "How 
  about the time I found my long-lost sister? When I put Commander Conway on 
  trial for drinking coffee? That planet full of the acidic giant grapefruits? 
  How about when I came back from the dead? That was a good one!" Prendick 
  nodded again to all of these. Baxter remembered now, Prendick was always 
  spending time with him, listening to him as he reminisced about his long 
  years in Starfleet. The kid couldn't get enough of his adventures. He 
  couldn't have told him all of them, there were so many...Prendick was still 
  looking up at him, waiting for another adventure of the daring crew of the 
  long destroyed USS Aerostar and USS Explorer. Baxter searched his memory, 
  surely there was one original adventure left...
  Well, there was one. But he'd promised Kelly he'd never tell it to anyone. He 
  hadn't even mentioned it in his personal log. Baxter looked back down at his 
  grandchild. Surely it wouldn't hurt if he just told it to a kid? He'd have 
  probably forgotten about it entirely by the end of the day. Oh, go on. Surely 
  there'd be no harm in it, and it'd make the boy happy.
    "Okay, here's a story I don't think I've told you. It happened shortly after 
  I first became Captain of the USS Explorer, and concerns a little friend I 
  called Jabobo..."


            2503

    "I don't see why we have to go pick this old geezer up. The Consortium has 
  plenty of ships they could use." Leanne Braistway moaned, as she waited in 
  the Transporter Room alongside Captain Klaus Reimann and the ship's Tactical 
  and Operations officer 'Flash' GorDonTer at the Transporter controls.
    "Now Leanne, Dr. Baxter is one of the Federation's leading specialists in the 
  field of DNA therapy, the Consortium's hit a real jackpot having him work for 
  us. The man’s won the Nobel prize! So it's nothing but the best for him, even 
  if it is just a transport from Betazed to Earth."
    “Well as far as I’m concerned he can…” Braistway was stopped by the 
  transporter activating, the flashing blue lights becoming two figures on the 
  transporter pad. One, an older gentleman with cliché mad scientist white hair 
  sat in a wheelchair, floating a couple inches off the floor. Beside him stood 
  his companion, a strong-looking human, about six feet tall, complete with 
  light brown beard.
    “Dr. Baxter! It’s an honour to have you on board sir.” Reimann said, bowing 
  to the man in the wheelchair. Braistway refused to lower herself as the 
  Captain had, instead nodding her head towards the recent arrivals.
    “Good. Now, I’m here. Yes. Here.” Dr. Baxter replied, seemingly confused by 
  his new surroundings. He looked up at his companion who nodded to him, and 
  this seemed to calm him down.
    “I’m Captain Reimann, this is my first mate Leanne Braistway.” Reimann said, 
  introducing them. “Will you accompany me to your quarters and we can get you 
  settled in?”
    “Yes. Yes. My quarters, good. Please. Lead on.” Dr. Baxter replied, waving 
  his right arm in a forward direction. His companion took the controls of the 
  wheelchair and started pushing him, Reimann and Braistway leading the way 
  through the ships’ corridors to Deck 3 and the VIP suites.
    “Here we are sir, I hope you find your rooms to your liking.” Reimann said, 
  leading the group into the most ostentatious of the Hanseans suites.
    “Indeed. Comfortable. Yes. Thank you.” Dr. Baxter replied.
    "We'll leave you now then, leave you to rest. We've scheduled a senior crew 
  dinner at 1800 hours, though it is of course up to yourself if you wish to 
  attend."
    "Dinner, good. Yes. Good." Dr. Baxter said. Reimann bowed once more to the 
  elderly scientist, and went out the door, followed by Braistway.
    "Well ain't he odd." Braistway commented.
    "We must all make allowances for genius. I'll leave the dinner preparations 
  in your capable hands? Get Chef to find out what Dr. Baxter's favourite meal 
  is, stuff like that." Reimann ordered.
    "Oh goody." Braistway replied.
    “And what about our other cargo?” Reimann asked.
    “Taken care of.” Braistway said, and set off towards the Hansean's mess hall.


  Back inside Dr. Baxter's rooms, the scientist sat still in his chair, 
  listening and staring intently at the doors the Captain and Braistway had 
  just walked out of.
    "Computer, lock doors to my voice print only." Dr. Baxter said.
    "Doors locked." The computer replied.
    "Finally!" Dr Baxter said, getting out of his chair and stretching, then 
  began jumping up and down to get some better circulation going through his 
  legs. "You know, I thought we'd never get any privacy."
  His companion assented, still not saying a word. He took the wheelchair and 
  parked it carefully in one corner of the main living space. "And now, here we 
  are, all the pieces have fallen into place! A lifetime of work, a puzzle 
  which some thought could not be solved. But here I am, holding the future in 
  my hands! None can stand in my path. Sixty years I have laboured, searching 
  and uniting all the lost pieces, the last of which is on this ship. And once 
  this last missing piece is in my hand, the galaxy will witness a new genesis, 
  and I, Doctor Pendrick Harold Baxter shall be it's creator!" Dr. Baxter 
  erupted into evil maniacal laughter, soon followed by his companion.


    “Stinker, have you got that report on the impulse manifolds handy?” Braistway 
  asked a pair of legs sticking out from under a replicator. This pair of legs 
  belonged to the Hansean’s Chief Engineer, and was soon joined by a dirty hand 
  holding up a PADD towards the first mate. 
    “Preferably on a PADD without a load of crap on it.”
  The hand disappeared but soon returned, this time holding the PADD in a towel. 
  Braistway took the items on offer. “See how things work much better when 
  they’re clean? What, no comments? Oh yeah, I forgot, you’re not talking to 
  me. Fantastic. See you around stinker.”
  Braistway walked off. Seconds later a fuming Nyoko emerged from under the 
  replicator.
    “Preferably on a PADD without a load of crap on it.” She imitated Braistway 
  in a childish voice. “I hate that woman!”


  Reimann walked into sickbay to see Dr. Scorpio examining a patient. He hung 
  back near the entrance until the Doctor was done. The patient, having been 
  seen to, walked out of Sickbay, nodding to the Captain as he passed by.
    “Captain, good, I was about to have a word with you.” Dr. Scorpio said.
    “Oh, yes? How can I help?” Reimann asked.
    “It’s actually about Niels.” Scorpio said, and Reimann was able put a name to 
  the face of the patient who’d just left Sickbay. Niels, one of the shop 
  assistants at the Dillon’s Depot.
    “What’s wrong with him?”
    “Breathing difficulties.”
    “Caused by?” Reimann asked. Scorpio took a deep breath and replied.
    “Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.”
    “Doctor, your locution abilities continue to amaze me increasingly every 
  day.”
    “Thank you Captain. It’s a lung disease caused by breathing in certain 
  particles which I believe came from the casing of our new cargo.”
    “So what do we do?”
    “Someone will have to head down there with a quadcorder and scan the thing to 
  see if it is that, that someone will have to wear some kind of protective 
  breathing gear. Once we’ve found the source we can just move our cargo and 
  get rid of the harmful casing.”
    “I’ll get someone on to it.” Reimann said, and thanking the Doctor left


  Flash walked into the Cargo Bay and approached the box sitting in the middle 
  of the room. As a plant Flash had no lungs, and as such Reimann had thought 
  it the best plant for the job, as he was incapable of contracting the 
  disease. Flash opened the casing of the cargo and began scanning with a 
  quadcorder.
    “One has begun the scan.” Flash said. At the other end of the comm line, 
  sitting safely in Engineering, Nyoko was analysing the data gathered.
    “Confirmed.” She said, allowing the computer to analyse the data. Of course 
  she was perfectly unable to tell if the casing was dangerous, but she was the 
  best person to move the cargo contained within if it was deemed necessary. 
    “You know Flash, I’m glad it was Reimann that found this out, had it been 
  Braistway she’d have probably sent me in there without any protection to 
  die.”
    “One is of the thought that she is a schadenfreude. The fact you refuse to 
  speak to her is one she probably wishes was reproduced throughout various 
  others on the ship.” Flash said.
    “Yah, well, good for her.” Nyoko said, staring into the computer screen on 
  front of her. Ever since she’d arrived on board nearly a year ago Braistway 
  had gone out of her way to annoy, threaten, demean and injure her, and she 
  was just plain sick of it. She’d been giving her the silent treatment for a 
  while now, and instead of annoying her it had done of the opposite: she 
  hadn’t seen the first mate this happy for months.
    “Scan concluded.” Flash said, taking the quadcorder and stepping back from 
  the cargo.
    “Yep, that’s our friend alright.” Nyoko said. The data from the scan matched 
  perfectly with the entry in the medical encyclopedia highlighted by Dr. 
  Scorpio. “I’m locking onto the cargo with the transporter, beaming it to some 
  new casing in Cargo Bay Three.” Just as Nyoko spoke the cargo in the middle 
  of the casing disappeared in the haze of a transporter beam and left the 
  casing empty. “Okay, you can dispose if it now.”
  Flash walked out of the cargo bay and ensured the doors closed behind him. 
  Activating the controls next to the door he erected a force field around the 
  door, forming an effective airlock, and opened the Cargo Bay’s outer doors to 
  the vacuum of space, getting rid of the casing and any particles which may 
  have become air born. It was a quick job to close the outer doors once more 
  and refill the Cargo Bay with clean air.
    “Clean-up completed.” Flash told Nyoko.
    “Good job Flash.” Nyoko said. “I’ll send someone to check the cargo in bay 
  three, you go off duty.”
    “One is of immense gratitude. One believes one will see you later at the 
  dinner.”
    “Sure thing.” Nyoko replied, closing the comm channel. If only it was this 
  easy to get Braistway to speak nicely to her.


  Dr. Baxter sat at the computer terminal, furiously tapping away at the 
  controls. It had been a simple matter to hack his way into the core net of 
  the computer’s network, and was able to find what he was looking for. It was 
  here, in Cargo Bay one. Officially, it was listed as Item #0439 in the ship’s 
  registry, but it was much much more. Behind the functional name stood the 
  key, the final ingredient. And once Baxter had it, it would shake the 
  foundations of the galaxy.


  Reimann was walking past Sickbay on the way to pick Soledad up for the dinner, 
  as Niels rushed past him, sprinting through the doors. Worried, Reimann 
  followed him in, just in time to see Dr. Scorpio scan Niels with a medical 
  quadcorder, the shop assistant bleeding profusely through his nose.
    “What is it Doctor? That breathing thing again?” Reimann asked.
    “Nope, isn’t that. I think it’s simply the result of rhinotillexomania.” 
  Scorpio replied.
    “Should I be worried about it? Is it dangerous to the ship?” Reimann asked, 
  slightly panicked.
    “No, Captain, no. It isn’t contagious.” Scorpio assured the Captain, 
  laughing.
    “Oh, alright then.” Reimann turned and left Sickbay, not before giving Niels 
  a bit of support. “Chin up lad, you’ll get better.”


  Dr. Baxter’s assistant finished wheeling the elderly scientist into position 
  at the table and the rest of the crew assembled in the dining room sat down, 
  only Captain Reimann remaining standing. He raised his glass, and greeted the 
  Doctor.
    “Dr. Baxter, it is an absolute honour having you on board the SS. Hansean, 
  and having you join us at this dinner. I trust you will enjoy your time on 
  board, and thank you once again for gracing us with your presence. Cheers.” 
  Reimann finished, toasting with his wine. “Now, let’s tuck in!” he said, food 
  transporting onto the empty plates before them. Starving, the crew of the 
  Hansean tucked into their dinners, while Dr. Baxter’s assistant slipped out 
  of the dinner room unnoticed.
  The dinner was quiet. Reimann talked to Soledad, sitting next to him, and 
  others of the crew murmured between themselves, but the odd presence of the 
  famed scientist made for a hushed atmosphere. They moved through starters and 
  a main course, Dr. Baxter’s assistant slipping back into the dining hall as 
  dessert was served. Baxter looked up expectantly when he entered, but his 
  assistant just shook his head. Baxter made sure to finish up his dessert 
  quickly, before making his excuses.
    “Good food. Good. But tired. From traveling. Good food. Thank you.” He 
  stammered, playing the geriatric professor. Reimann nodded in thanks and 
  stood up, along with the rest of the senior officers as the Doctors assistant 
  took control of the wheelchair and led Baxter out of the room.
    “What happened?” Baxter asked the moment they were out of the dining room and 
  in the empty corridor. “Wasn’t it there?” His assistant shook his head. “They 
  must have moved it. It is no problem, we will make it ours.”


  Reimann and Sanchez sat in the dining room, the last ones to leave, sipping 
  at their coffees. Reimann stretched in his chair, yawning.
    “You know,” the Captain said. “I’ve been reading this biography about a 
  Starfleet Captain from a couple centuries ago?”
    “Hmm?” Sanchez replied.
    “Yah. Ending up retiring from Starfleet and set up an hotel resort on a moon, 
  called it the Suburb.” Reimann continued.
    “Isn’t that the one the Consortium tried to take over a few months back?”
    “It is. One of the last independent hotels left in the quadrant.”
    “I remember it, we weren’t able to buy it. Didn’t they shoot down the ship 
  the negotiation team was in and subject them to hours and hours of torture 
  forcing them to listen to Barry Manilow?”
    “That’s the one, turns out the place had some pretty high-tech defense 
  systems built into it. Anyway, I doubt we’ll be trying another takeover 
  anytime soon, they had to ship the entire negotiation team off to the funny 
  farm on Tantalus Five.” Reimann said, and took another sip of his coffee.
    “Think you could ever do that?” Sanchez asked.
    “What, give up captaining and settle down somewhere?” Reimann asked.
    “Mmm-hmmm.” Sanchez assented.
    “Sure. I will eventually, I can’t see me galloping around space for the rest 
  of my life. Have to retire somewhere.”
    “Yah.”
    “Actually, I was thinking of a bit of a move pretty soon.”
    “You were?” Sanchez asked.
    “Yes. I was going to ask you to move in with me.” Reimann said, looking 
  Sanchez in the eyes.
    “Move in with you?” Sanchez asked, shocked. Reimann’s suggestion was taking 
  its time to sink in.
    “Listen, I know last time it didn’t work out so well, but, well, it was a 
  long time ago. We’re twenty years wiser now, I think it’ll work.” Reimann 
  reasoned.
    “I don’t know. Last time left some pretty deep scars.” Sanchez said.
    “For me too.” Reimann muttered, and looked away. He picked up his cup of 
  coffee and took a slow sip, as Sanchez did likewise.
    “Anyway,” Sanchez said, “my quarters are bigger.”
    “What? No there not. I’ve got the bigger quarters, I’m the Captain.”
    “And I’m on the Board of Directors, and therefore your boss. My quarters are 
  bigger.”
    “You want to bet?”


  On the bridge of the Hansean Flash tapped at the controls on his console. The 
  graveyard shift ensured a very quiet and almost empty bridge: Braistway was 
  curled up in the command chair snoozing, while Evangelina Adiosgracias, the 
  replacement helmsman, was using the viewscreen to watch the Borg Comedy Hour, 
  though how she found Borg stand-up amusing Flash would never know.
    “Species 4928 was encountered on Stardate 57209.” The latest Borg comedian,
  45 of 760 droned on, before coming up with the punchline. “Their 
  technological and biological distinctiveness was added to our own.” At this 
  Adiosgracias fell off her chair in a fit of giggles, while Flash just shook 
  his head. Mammals.
  Behind him the turbolift doors swished open, and Flash turned to see Captain 
  Reimann and Sanchez walk onto the bridge.
    “Flash! Perfect!” Reimann said, taking Sanchez by the arm and leading her 
  toward the Tac/Ops station. “Bring up a schematic of the ship, the 
  residential deck. Compare my quarters with quarters number 34.”
  Flash complied, setting up scale schematics of the two quarters side by side 
  on the screen on his console.
    “Ha! Told you!” Sanchez said, ribbing Reimann. Her quarters were nearly a 
  third bigger than the Captain’s.
    “Oh, guess you were right.” Reimann said. “So?”
    “So what?” Sanchez asked.
    “Can I move in with you?” Reimann asked. Sanchez pretended to think about it, 
  then took hold of Reimann and pushed him back towards the turbolift doors.
    “Come on, I’ll help you pack.” Sanchez replied.
  The doors swished closed behind the smiling couple. In the command chair 
  Braistway shifted her weight, trying to get into a more comfortable 
  position.
    “Flash?” Braistway said dreamily. “Close the betting pool. Inform the crew 
  that they may pay me at their convenience.” The first mate smiled as she 
  drifted off the sleep.
  Reluctantly Flash tapped several buttons on his console, closing the betting 
  pool. Flash hated it when Braistway was right. It only encouraged her.


  Meanwhile, Dr. Baxter was also hard at work. Prying eyes looked through the 
  cargo logs, noticing the most recent entries. The item had been moved earlier 
  that day to Cargo Bay three. It would still be easy to acquire.
    “This time do not return without it.” Dr. Baxter warned his assistant. His 
  assistant nodded, and headed out the doors of his quarters. Baxter in turn 
  opened several boxes he had brought with him and began setting up his lab. 
  The time had come.


  By now even Flash had given up on doing any work, and was reading the latest 
  PADD on the eating habits of the Cardassian Blue-Handed Howler Monkey. In the 
  command chair Braistway was now snoring loudly, while Adiosgracias had 
  finished watching the Borg Comedy Hour and was now onto the Vulcan Stand-Up 
  Club: Classic Sessions.
  His attention was diverted from his reading however when his console informed 
  him of an increased power surge coming from the Guest Residential Suites. He 
  ordered the computer to run a quick analysis on the readings and woke 
  Braistway up.
    “What?” She said still half-asleep.
    “One is detecting several power surges originating from Dr. Baxter’s 
  quarters, more that can be accounted for by the replicator and other 
  utilities in the suites. Normally one would leave the computer to 
  automatically reroute power to compensate, but seeing as it’s Dr. Baxter…” 
  Flash reasoned.
    “Wake Nyoko up, put her on it.” Seconds later Braistway was snoring again. 
  Flash programmed the computer to wake Nyoko up and inform her of the problem 
  and returned to his reading.


  Her dressing gown over her pajamas Nyoko wondered down the corridors from her 
  quarters to Dr. Baxter’s suites. She’d stopped off quickly at Engineering to 
  grab her tool kit and was now attempting to rub the sleep out of her eyes, 
  thinking that she should of stopped for a coffee along the way. Lost in her 
  own thoughts she turned a corner and didn’t see Dr. Baxter’s assistant coming 
  in the opposite direction till she crashed into him.
    “Oh…sorry.” Nyoko said, bouncing off him. The Doctors assistant looked 
  non-plussed, he hadn’t been knocked off-balance even slightly by the 
  collision. In his hands he was carrying a black case Nyoko thought she 
  recognised, wasn’t that the case with the…
    “Careful, coming through!” A third voice shouted, taking Nyoko out of her 
  reverie. She turned to see Reimann walking down the corridor, balancing an 
  inordinate number of suitcases and boxes in his arms. It was a wonder he was 
  able to see where he was going.
    “Captain!”
    “What is this, a midnight party I didn’t get invited to?” Reimann chuckled.
    “No, we just ran into each other…Captain, what are you doing?” Nyoko asked as 
  Reimann tried to balance a box at the top of his pile.
    “Moving quarters.” Reimann replied.
    “Oh.” Nyoko said. “Isn’t it an odd time for that? It’s the middle of the 
  night.”
    “Night and day are planetary inventions Nyoko, we’re not on a planet.”
    “Right.” Nyoko said, deciding that next time it was probably better not to 
  ask.
    “And anyway, isn’t it a bit late to be fixing things?” Reimann countered.
    “Oh, just a problem with Dr. Baxter’s quarters. Braistway thought I should 
  deal with it straight away.”
    “Hmmm.” Reimann considered, putting down his pile of boxes. “It’s okay, I’ll 
  take care of it. You look like you should go back to sleep. Give me the tool 
  kit.”
    “Oh, sure.” Nyoko said, handing over her repair kit, glancing uncomfortably 
  at Dr. Baxter’s assistant. As she did so she moved closer to Reimann and 
  whispered in his ear. “Captain, I think that’s the item, the special cargo we 
  took on?”
    “Nonsense Nyoko, it’s probably just a piece of the Doctor’s luggage.” Reimann 
  said unconcerned. “Nighty night.”
    “Night Captain.” Nyoko replied, and marched back off to bed. The Captain was 
  probably right, why would Dr. Baxter or his assistant want to steal anything 
  from the ship? It was just a useless piece of cargo they were being paid to 
  transport. She pushed her concerns to the back of her mind and had nearly 
  crawled back into her bed when her conscious got the better of her. Nyoko 
  walked out of her quarters and set direction for Cargo Bay 3.


  The doors to his quarters swished open, and Dr. Baxter turned to see his 
  assistant enter carrying a black case.
    “Very good, it is finally mine!” Baxter shouted. Trembling with excitement he 
  started walking towards his assistant, hands out-stretched. He stopped when 
  he saw Captain Reimann push his way past his assistant into Baxter’s quarters.
    “Dr. Baxter, I’m here to fix…” Reimann stopped when he saw Dr. Baxter 
  standing at ease, off his wheelchair, and talking clearly. Baxter’s eyes went 
  wide. He’d been found out!
    “Take care of the extra baggage.” Dr. Baxter ordered. His assistant grinned 
  and stepped forward, bringing the black case down on Reimann’s head. 
  Everything went black, and the Captain saw no more. 


  Flash finished reading his PADD and put it down, glancing once more at the 
  readings on his console. The power readings from Dr. Baxter’s guest suites 
  had not ceased, but had greatly increased. He once again woke Braistway up 
  and informed her of the situation.
    “Braistway to Nyoko,” the first mate opened the comm channel, visibly 
  annoyed. “what kind of half-arsed job are you doing down there?”
    “Dr. Baxter’s quarters? I ran into the Captain, he said he’d take care of 
  it.” Nyoko replied, stifling a yawn.
    “Braistway to Reimann.” Braistway tried, but got no reply. “Captain? Bridge 
  to Reimann, come in.” The first mate glanced up at Flash, her face showing 
  the distaste she had for the current situation.
    “One is able to detect the Captain’s life signs in Dr. Baxter’s quarters, he 
  should be able to reply.” Flash informed her.
    “I think we’ve got even more problems Braistway.” Nyoko said, re-opening the 
  comm channel between her and the bridge. “I’m in Cargo Bay Three, the item’s 
  gone. Baxter’s assistant stole it, I ran into him bringing it back to 
  Baxter’s quarters. The Captain went with him.”
  Braistway cussed and headed towards the turbolift.
    “I’m going down there, shut off all power to Dr. Baxter’s quarters.” She 
  ordered. Flash pressed several controls.
    “One is unable to do so, one is locked out.”
    “Same here.” Adiosgracias said from the helm. “Computer won’t let me do 
  anything.”
  Braistway cussed some more and got into the turbolift.
    “Flash, get back control of the computer.”
    “Where are you going?” Flash asked.
    “They disturbed my sleep, and somebody is going to have to pay for that.” 
  Braistway replied, the turbolift doors closing. 


  Reimann began stirring, trying to remember where he was and what was 
  happening. He opened his eyes and instantly regretted it, as the light seemed 
  to burn painfully into his retinas. Eyes closed again, he rolled over, and 
  shot back as he hit a forcefield. He forced his eyes open and sat up, leaning 
  against a wall in Dr. Baxter’s quarters.
    “So you are awake Captain?” Dr. Baxter said, not turning away from his work. 
  His guest suites that had once been clean and uncluttered were now full with 
  scientific equipment that Baxter was just finishing assembling. “Good, I 
  wouldn’t want you to miss this.”
    “What’s going on?” Reimann said, reaching out with his hand to feel the force 
  field. He found he’d been trapped in the walk-in wardrobe, the door stuck 
  open but the force field preventing his escape through the entrance.
    “The greatest scientific feat in the history of the universe Captain, that is 
  what’s going on. Not a breakthrough, no, this has done once before, but 
  people who could not see past their own prejudices ruined mankind’s greatest 
  hour! Over a century has passed, a dark age, until I could rebuild it, but 
  the hour has come!”
  Reimann looked confused, trying to figure out what Baxter was up to. It was 
  no matter, surely somebody must have noticed his absence and seen that 
  something strange was going on, all that equipment must be taking up tonnes 
  of power. Dr. Baxter seemed to read his thoughts.
    “What, thinking that your friends will be along shortly to save the day? I 
  think not, I have complete control over the ship, they can do nothing. And 
  you’ll find my assistant can be extremely persuasive. Speaking of which…” Dr. 
  Baxter turned to his assistant, who’d just finished connecting several wires 
  to a central mesh. “Go outside and make sure nobody gets past.”
  His assistant nodded and went outside to stand guard in the corridor. Dr. 
  Baxter laughed maniacally.


  She’d known bringing Baxter on the ship would be trouble. She’d known it. 
  Even tried to tell Reimann, but he wouldn’t listed to her. Of course, 
  Braistway thought, she wasn’t expecting Dr. Baxter to take over the ship and 
  hold Reimann prisoner, she’d expected him to simply whine about the service 
  and behave as an eccentric scientist normally does. The Hansean was a 
  merchant ship, not a passenger liner.
  Braistway ran without looking where she was going, full tilt into Dr. Baxter's 
  bearded companion and fell to the floor. Dr. Baxter’s companion remained 
  standing, staring down at her.
    “Move it beardy.” Braistway threatened. The man simply shook his head.
    “I can’t do that.”
    "Hey, it talks! Well, I said get out of my way freak! Who do you think you 
  are?" Braistway said, getting angry and picking herself up.
    "I," the man replied adopting a fighting stance, "am the second Coming of 
  Chuck Norris."


  Reimann found that in situations like these making a list of the tools he had 
  at his disposal helped him remain calm. So he made a list of what he had at 
  hand in his walk-in closet turned prison cell. He had:

    1) Human ingenuity. Never to be underestimated, it had saved him on a 
  number of occasions.
    2) An empty clothes rack, screwed into the wall. He didn’t have a 
  screwdriver on him, and even if he did he doubted he’d be able to unscrew the 
  rack before Baxter noticed him.
    3) 2 empty wire hangars on the clothes rack. Metal wiring always came in 
  useful, so Reimann though that these would probably be his most helpful tools.
    4) A crew working to free him. He hoped.

  On the other side Reimann also made a list of all the tools Baxter had at his 
  disposal:

    1) Human ingenuity. As well as Reimann. But Baxter was a scientist 
  untrained in the ways of the world, while Reimann had been held hostage 
  before. Reimann had the upper hand here.
    2) Control of the SS Hansean. So Baxter had control of a massive computer 
  and the most modern technology the 26th century had to offer.
    3) Time. Baxter was busy setting about his task, and wouldn’t take long. 
  Reimann, on the other hand, was racing against the clock to stop Baxter.

  Comparing the two lists Reimann came to the unhappy conclusion that he was 
  buggered. There was nothing he could do, short of talking to Baxter, and he 
  doubted anything he could say would make Baxter see the ‘error’ of his ways 
  and free him. The man was an insane genius. He took one of the hangars off 
  the rack and began disassembling it into one long piece of wire.
    “And what precisely do you intend to do with that piece of wire Captain?” Dr. 
  Baxter asked, momentarily leaving his equipment to go gloat over Reimann.
    “When I get nervous I fidget.” Reimann replied.
    “You don’t seriously expect me to believe that now, do you?”
    “Not really.” Reimann said, straightening the curves along the wire, and then 
  changed the topic of conversation. “You still haven’t told me what you’re 
  doing here.”
    “I’m bringing this world a new renaissance, isn’t that obvious?”
    “You’ve made your objectives very clear, but not your methods.”
    “Have I not? Well, I guess you’re just going to have to wait to find out.” 
  Baxter laughed, and finished connecting various wires to an incubator.


  Nyoko had left Cargo Bay Three and was running as fast as she could towards 
  Dr. Baxter’s quarters. Something very odd was going on, and she didn’t like 
  it one bit. Still in her pajamas and dressing gown she found Sanchez walking 
  in the opposite direction carrying a large Ming vase.
    “Nyoko?” Sanchez said surprised as the Chief Engineer ran past her.
    “Can’t stop, Captain in trouble!” Nyoko shouted as she ran past.
    “Oh crap.” Sanchez cursed, and set off after Nyoko still carrying the vase.


  Braistway fell backwards as a roundhouse kick painfully connected with her, 
  knocking her off balance. She came up punching though, a left hook connecting 
  with her opponents’ head and sending him rolling in turn. Braistway had never 
  fought anyone like the second coming of Chuck Norris before. The man seemed 
  to anticipate most of her moves and was able to block them effortlessly, 
  leaving Braistway to waste what little energy she had on complicated feints 
  and counter-feints that rarely did any damage. She stepped back several paces 
  to gain some space in the cramped corridor as Norris got up, wiping some 
  blood from his mouth and looking at her with eyes that could kill. Problem 
  was that the man could very easily kill.
  As Baxter’s assistant advanced on Braistway he felt a thud from behind as 
  somebody attempted to tackle him. However a successful tackle is normally 
  defined by the person being tackled falling to the ground and in this respect 
  it failed miserably as Nyoko’s diminutive force was unable to push Norris 
  down. Grinning manically he lifted up Nyoko with one hand and slammed her 
  into the wall, the Chief Engineer sliding to the floor leaving a trail of 
  blood and not getting up again.
    “Now, where were we?” he asked Braistway and advanced on him once more until 
  with a loud crash Sanchez smashed the Ming vase she was carrying over his 
  head rendering Norris unconscious.
    “Klaus loved that thing.” Sanchez lamented, holding some of the ceramic’s 
  remaining pieces. “He wanted to have his ashes kept in there when he died.”
    “Right. Thanks.” Braistway said, moving up to the prone Norris and giving 
  him a kick in the head for good measure. She then helped Nyoko up from the 
  floor, who was slowly coming to.
    “I dink by dose ith broken.” The Chief Engineer said feeling the odd angle 
  her nose was now at.
    “Either that or you’re a walking talking Picasso.” Braistway laughed. Nyoko 
  looked at her hands, covered in blood, and fainted. “Hmm, maybe not so much 
  walking and talking.”
    “Will she be alright?” Sanchez asked.
    “Imagine so.”
    “Come on then. I’ve got a husband to save.”


  Dr. Baxter danced around the room in an insane joy.
    “It’s finished! It finished!” he cackled wildly, limbs flailing about. “It’s 
  finished!”
    “What’s finished? Oh wait, you don’t have to tell me, your new renaissance.” 
  Reimann said. “At least tell me why you’ve gone to all this trouble to do 
  this here, surely you could of done this at your own lab without drawing all 
  this attention.”
    “Alas I could not, your ship contained one final piece of the puzzle.” Baxter 
  explained. “In your cargo you had a special package. On Altair Six you took 
  on board the Fourth Diamond of Cintherion, widely considered the most perfect 
  natural diamond ever discovered. This perfect diamond was crucial to 
  regulating the power flow to the incubator, no other technology could do it."
    “Couldn’t you have just replicated a perfect diamond?”
    “I’m sorry?”
    “You could have just replicated it. Could have even made a better diamond, 
  it’s just a bunch of carbon atoms after all.”
  “Hmmm…” Dr. Baxter considered this. “Maybe I could have, maybe. Anyway, 
  that’s all academic. At least this way you shall be present for the dawning 
  of a new age!”
  The doors to the room swished open, allowing Sanchez and Braistway to charge 
  into the room.
    “What the frick is going on in here?” Braistway asked, surveying the room. 
  Sanchez, seeing Reimann trapped in the walk-in wardrobe and rushed over to 
  turn off the forcefield and help the Captain to his feet.
    “Stop him Leanne!” Reimann shouted, and Braistway dove towards Dr. Baxter. 
  The scientist was too fast for her though and was able to reach across to the 
  incubator, flicking a switch before the first mate immobilized him. The door 
  to the chamber hissed opened, filling the room with mist.
    “Computer! Recycle the air!” Reimann commanded, and quickly the smoke was 
  vented out replaced with normal clean air.
  Sanchez squinted into the dissipating mist, then recoiled suddenly.  “Oh, my 
  God, Klaus!  What is that?”
  Reimann moved in front of Sanchez, peering into the chamber.  Braistway 
  looked on from a safe position behind Reimann.
  A tiny little man stared back.  Not quite a meter tall, bald, and covered 
  with redish purple, wrinkled skin.  He cocked his head quizzically and looked 
  around the room at all the people there.
    “Now, woman, you've hurt his feelings," Baxter said, reaching down and 
  picking the little man up, covering him in a white blanket.  "It's okay, 
  Jabobo.  I won't let them hurt you."
  Jabobo looked up at Baxter and smiled, waving his little limb-stubs happily.
    “Jabobo?” Reimann asked.
  Baxter set the little guy down.  "Yes, Jabobo.  It's an obscure Cherokee 
  Indian term that means ‘free spirit.’”
    “Oh,” Reimann said, examining the creature carefully. “Is this how he was 
  supposed to turn out?”
    “More or less.  You know, DNA is so complicated.  You misplace a strand here, 
  something goes wrong, you put a peptide chain in the wrong place, and 
  something else goes wrong.  You’d never think it was such a complicated 
  science.”
    “Right. Leanne, take Dr. Baxter and Jabobo to the brig, maximum security. I 
  assume you’ve taken care of his assistant?”
    “Ah, there’s something I need to tell you about that…” Sanchez said.
    “Later darling. Lock him up as well. Then wake all the senior crew up and get 
  them together.” Reimann ordered. “It’s at times like these you need a 
  conference.”


  Several mugs of coffee were being rapidly drained as the various members of 
  the senior crew who had been sleeping tried to become alert. Dr. Scorpio was 
  able to quickly fix Nyoko’s nose and give her a painkiller before sitting 
  down between Lombardo and Rascamontes. Reimann brought them and Henry up to 
  speed on events recently occurred and opened the meeting for suggestions.
    “We should just kill the runt and be done with it.” Braistway said.
    “Let’s not be hasty…” Reimann tried to reason.
    “Federation law is very clear on this Captain. So’s Romulan law. I hear even 
  the Dominion are considering passing legislation banning any genetic 
  engineering. Either we dispose of the creature or the authorities will. And 
  that Second Coming of Chuck Norris guy too, I imagine he’s been cloned or 
  something.”
    “One agrees with Braistway in what the ultimate result of the matter shall 
  be.” Flash said. “Our destination is Earth, Dr Baxter and his creations may 
  be held prisoner until such time as we arrive and are able to hand them over 
  to Starfleet.”
    “That thing is wrong, no morality accepted as being sane could allow it. It’s 
  heresy.” Henry argued.
    “What hasn’t been considered insane or heresy by society before us? The world 
  is no longer flat, the universe no longer revolves around the Earth.”
    “Klaus, you’re not actually trying to defend them, are you?” Sanchez asked.
    “Of course not, I’m well aware of the dangers, I know all about the Eugenics 
  Wars…but still I wonder…”
    “Please don’t tell me you’ve been taken in by that Doctors mad ravings. That 
  Jabobo thing is a monster. Trust me, the galaxy worked fine before it was 
  made and it’ll go on fine afterwards.”
    “Very well, I am bound sometimes to play Devil’s advocate, that is all. We 
  shall do as Flash suggested and hand Baxter over to Starfleet at Earth. 
  Leanne, make sure somebody checks-in with the prisoners every couple hours. 
  They may be criminals, but I shudder to think of a mind like Baxter’s shut 
  up in a common cell like this. Ensure they’re comfortable. Meeting’s 
  dismissed, get some sleep people.” Reimann finished, getting up from the 
  table and following the rest of his senior crew warily out the door.


  Just outside the conference Braistway pulled Nyoko aside.
    “Nyoko, go check on Baxter and his fiends, give them a cup of cocoa before 
  bedtime and sing them a song or something.” 
  The Chief Engineer stared at the First Mate, her face going through 
  expressions of surprise to shock, finally to indignation. She didn’t say 
  anything, but inside her mind Nyoko was screaming. She’d been woken up in 
  the middle of the night, discovered that Baxter’s assistant had stolen the 
  Cintherion diamond and had got into a fight with him, saving Braistway in the 
  process, and ending up unconcious and with a broken nose for her troubles. 
  And now she had to go play babysitter?
    “What is it? Nothing to say?” Braistway teased Nyoko. The Chief Engineer 
  couldn't hold it in no longer. She exploded.
    “You know what? Yes, I do have something to say. You’re a pig. You’re a 
  hypocrite. You’re a selfish brat. You’re so busy looking down at us from your 
  ivory tower you’ve forgotten just how full of shit you are. I’ve done nothing 
  but work to the best of my ability on this ship, and so has every other 
  person you opress on this ship. Nobody likes you and certainly nobody thinks 
  you’re clever. And you know what? You deserve it. You deserve to live in a
  world of misery, depression and revulsion. You deserve to be abandoned by 
  everyone you’ve ever known and loved because that mouth of yours can’t keep 
  itself from kicking people when they’re down. You deserve to live an empty 
  life full of hatred and odium and antipathy. And you know what? I don’t even 
  loathe you any more. I don’t hate you. I pity you. I pity you.” 
    “You done?” Braistway asked. 
    “Yes.”
    “Fine.” Braistway punched Nyoko. The Chief Engineer fell back, blood flooding 
  out her broken nose once more.


  Henry found Nyoko walking slowly towards Sickbay, her face and clothes covered 
  in blood and her nose once again at an odd angle.
    “What happened to you?” Henry asked, rushing to help Nyoko who was supporting 
  herself with one arm on the wall.
    “Bot punched.” Nyoko replied. “By dose ith broken again.”
    “Well I can see that. Who did it?”
    “Braithway. I told ger, I did.” Nyoko replied and chuckled slightly before 
  moaning in pain.
    “Ah.” Henry said, now understanding. “You don’t know which way she went, do 
  you? I got this communication for her.” The yeoman held up a padd. Nyoko 
  shrugged her shoulders.
    “What’th it about?”
    “From Starfleet. Did you know she was dishonourably dismissed 9 years ago? 
  Apparently there was some incident involving a slight miscommunication, an 
  awful lot of custard and the odd transvestite Klingon. Anyway, she’d asked 
  for her case to be put up for review by a tribunal, and it’s reached a 
  decision. I’m looking for her so I can pass on the message.”
    “And?” Nyoko inquired. “What’s the verdict?”
    “I’m not sure I should say…” Henry reasoned, then gave in and told her. “They 
  decided to uphold the decision.”
  A big smile appeared on Nyoko’s face, and she continued making her way 
  towards Sickbay now humming a cheerful tune.


  The lights in the brig went out. Baxter looked at the Second Coming of Chuck 
  Norris who got up and checked that the forcefield keeping them locked up was 
  still there. It was.
  Himself, Norris and Jabobo had been locked in the same cell, which as well as 
  being ample enough to house the three of them also happened to be the only 
  one on-board the ship. The designers of the merchant vessel hadn’t expected 
  the Hansean to be shipping many prisoners around.
  The doors to the brig opened, the light entering from the corridor creating a 
  silhouette around a dark figure. The figure stepped into the room, the door 
  closing behind them, the silhouette still outlined by the light of a console 
  the figure brought online.
    “What do you want?” Baxter asked, moving between the figure and Jabobo. He 
  would keep Jabobo safe, even if it meant sacrificing his own life.
    “I want a difference Dr. Baxter. You see, every now and again the world as we 
  know it comes to a fork in the road, and is presented with a choice: it can 
  continue onwards as it has, with the same deficiencies, the same blunders and 
  the same problems, just adding numbers to the statistics.
  Or it can choose a seed. A seed of something different. Something that has 
  never been conceived before. A new path. That path may be safer that the one 
  before, or it may be far more dangerous. It may be better than the one 
  before, or it may be far worse. But it is a difference, and that is all that 
  matters, because the world can’t always continue in the same vicious circle.”
    “So you will just let us go?”
    “Us? Well, yes, as a consequence.” The dark figure pointed at Jabobo. “He must 
  be free. We must explore the second way forward, even if it means afterwards 
  crawling back to the fork in the road cursing the day we strayed from the 
  beaten path.”
  Baxter felt a tug on his sleeve and knelt down so that Jabobo could whisper 
  in his ear. He rose to speak again, nodding his head.
    “I never thought I’d find a person of ideology on Dillon’s ship.”
    “A Dillon’s ship you mean. One of many.”
    “As you say.”
    “You will be transported to a raceabout. The shuttlebay doors will open for 
  you and the Hansean will be momentarily incapacitated. You will be able to 
  escape, make for an independent outpost. I suggest you quickly find some 
  other means of transportation and get rid of the raceabout, it will be easy 
  to trace.”
    “Thank you.” Dr. Baxter said as the transporter beam took him. The dark 
  figure took one last look at the now empty-cell and walked out.


  Reimann met Braistway and Flash in the corridor outside the brig.
    “They escaped?” he asked.
    “Yes sir.” Flash replied. “Several moments ago the Celduin left the 
  shuttlebay, we were unable to chase as our engines were off-line. Engineering 
  is currently still trying to get them back on-line. Upon this happening one 
  checked on the prisoners, but all sensor feeds focused on the brig had been 
  taken offline and records wiped.”
    “Theories on how they escaped?”
    “Only two ways this could of happened.” Braistway explained. “Or they planned 
  all this beforehand or…”
    “Or what Leanne?” Reimann asked.
    “Or we have a traitor on board.”




  END OF SEASON ONE






 NEXT TIME ON THE INCONGRUOUS VOYAGES:

 Nothing for a while as the author gets some well deserved time to relax. But 
 please check back regularly either on this website or at the Star Traks forums
 for announcements concerning Season Two!
 
 Everything's being going great for Klaus Reimann. He's got his crew working 
 efficiently, the ship is turning a gross profit, and even his personal life
 is smelling of roses. Think this could last for long? Of course not! He's a
 Traks character! His recently rekindled relationship with Soledad Sanchez Rios
 becomes endangered when the Hansean discovers a crashed ship on a deserted
 planet, with only one survivor...
 Season Two premiere, "The Orphan",coming to a website near you, different Traks 
 Time, same Traks Channel!