A USS Bluefin Tale: “Longing For The Recent Future” (March/April Challenge)
(Author’s Note: I first wrote and posted this story 15 years ago. If that, or the fact it is rather long, disqualifies it from the challenge, I totally understand. The story is basically unchanged other than some mild editing and a new title. Due to the length, I will post it in several parts over the next few days. This is one of my favorite stories from the Bluefin saga; I hope you enjoy it!)
Sometime in mid-2377
Aboard Star Stallion 01
Somewhere in the Molari Badlands
“Inertial dampeners failing!” shouted Chief Deryx over the din of the howling engines. The raging ion storm battered the star stallion, threatening to overload its shields and overstress its hull.
“Compensating,” replied Commander Inga Strauss. It was all she could do to punch in the commands on the console as the small-craft pitched violently.
In the rear of the stallion, four civilians huddled in terror. Only ten minutes earlier, they had been plucked from their damaged Corvallen freighter by Deryx and Strauss. Their initial relief over being rescued evaporated quickly as the monstrous ion storm exploded with pent-up force, erupting into a force-9 tempest.
Now the rescue small craft was desperately clawing its way back to the Bluefin, which still lay nearly a half-hour distant at full impulse. What had begun as a rather routine rescue mission was now a struggle for survival – a struggle that Deryx and Strauss now wondered if they would win.
“Stallion oh-one to Bluefin, come in please!” Inga’s voice was tight but controlled. Her attempt at communication was met with a burst of static.
“Try emergency power,” suggested the Denobulan CPO as he struggled with the helm controls. The stallion pitched and yawed dangerously, but Deryx managed to keep it under control – barely.
“If I boost the gain much more I’ll blow the sub-space transceiver,” she replied. A sudden jounce caused her to bite her tongue painfully and she tasted the sharp tang of blood. She spat a wad of bloody saliva on the deck and turned her attention back to her console.
“Stallion oh-one to Bluefin – Mayday! Mayday! We are caught in the ion storm – shields and dampeners are failing, please respond.”
Finally, through the static she heard the familiar, welcome voice of Lt. Nigel Bane.
“ . . . oh-one, this is Bluefin. We . . . your mayday and . . . moving to rendezvous with you. What . . . your status?” The concern in Bane’s voice was apparent, despite the weak signal.
Hearing Nigel’s voice gave Strauss a tendril of hope. “Bluefin, we are uninjured but shields are down to 35% and radiation levels are rising. Inertial dampeners are fluctuating and structural integrity fields are beginning to fail. We’re running at full impulse, trying to get ahead of the storm.”
Tendrils of purple and red energy crackled across the viewport, momentarily dazzling Strauss as the stallion shook ominously.
“Acknowledged, oh-one. Adjust . . . to one-one-three mark fourteen . . . should get you clear of . . . leading edge in ten minutes. We . . . en route.”
Deryx punched in the course change and the small craft veered slightly to port. Strauss noticed several warning indicators flashing on the helm console – indicative of engine over-heating as she replied to Bane.
“Understood, Bluefin. We have adjusted course to one-one-three mark fourteen. Be advised our engines are over-heating. . . I’m not sure how much longer we can maintain full impulse.”
Bane’s reply was drowned out in a raucous screech of static as a gravimetric wave slammed into the star stallion. The lights on the tiny vessel dimmed and one of the civilians screamed. The stallion skewed dangerously to starboard before Deryx could bring it back under control. He glanced at Strauss, a sheen of perspiration on his face.
“Nearly lost it that time,” he muttered.
Strauss nodded, her eyes wide. “Yeah.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s hope we don’t hit any more waves like that one.”
The Denobulan chuffed out a breath. “Frakkin’ straight, Commander.”
* * *
USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands
“Stallion oh-one, come in please!”
Bane turned in his chair and shook his head helplessly. “No reply, Captain.” Apprehension etched the young Aussie officer’s face.
Captain Joseph Akinola nodded, his face impassive. He was also worried about Strauss, Deryx and the civilians, but he kept his feelings in check.
“Keep trying Mr. Bane. It’s no surprise that storm is playing hell with the comm. system. Mr. Bralus, time to intercept?”
The Bolian helm officer spared a quick glance at his console as he continued to guide the border cutter into the approaching ion storm.
“Twelve minutes, sir, assuming they maintain course and speed.”
Senior Chief Solly Brin was seated at the aft auxiliary station. The red Orion non-com glowered at the viewscreen.
“I’ve never seen a storm intensify this quickly,” Brin muttered.
“Me neither, Senior Chief,” replied Akinola. A mere half-hour ago, the ion storm appeared to be holding at force 3 – rough, certainly, for civilian ships, but nothing too difficult for the cutter or even the stallions to handle.
Now it was a force 9 monster, with enough power to mangle a border cutter.
Or shred a star stallion.
“Delta, stand by on tractor beams. I want to grab them and haul tail out of here as fast as possible.”
The auburn-haired second officer tapped instructions into the engineering console. “Aye sir. Tractors are on-line and standing by.”
The cutter rocked slightly and the deck trembled under their feet.
“Gravimetric wave,” announced Bane, solemnly. “We’ve crossed the leading edge of the storm.”
“Damn,” murmured Akinola under his breath. The recovery of the stallion had become exponentially more difficult.
* * *
Star Stallion 01
Molari Badlands
“Radiation levels increasing,” remarked Strauss. Her voice was remarkably calm, as if she were merely commenting on the weather.
“Say, Commander? If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not know that kind of stuff,” replied Chief Deryx. He grunted as the stallion lurched while plowing through a dense field of concentrated ion particles.
Strauss forced a smile. “Sorry. I tend to talk more when I’m nervous.”
“Nervous? What have you got to be nervous about? This is a walk in the . . .”
A klaxon sounded and the computer voice interrupted.
“Warning – radiation levels are now at dangerous levels. Decontamination protocols should be followed. Please report to the nearest medical facility as soon as possible.”
“Frakkin’ know-it-all computer,” growled Deryx. He spared a quick glance toward Strauss. “How much time does that give us?”
“I thought you didn’t want to know.”
“I changed my mind.”
Strauss frowned in thought. “Probably ten minutes before radiation levels reach the lethal zone. Assuming the shields don’t fail. If they do . . .”
The Chief’s mottled face took on a paler cast. “I see. Guess we better rendezvous with the ship before then.”
“Sounds like a plan, Chief.”
* * *
USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands
The cutter smashed through gravimetric waves and eddies of coalesced energy as it plowed doggedly toward the wounded star stallion. Already, they were facing force 6 ion levels.
Akinola rocked slightly in the command chair as the cutter doggedly moved through heavier levels of ionic bombardment.
“Status, Mr. Bane,” he queried.
“Shields still holding at 85% and structural integrity fields operating at maximum, but the storm is now moving directly our way.” He shook his head in frustration. “We’ll be in the thick of it when we reach the stallion.”
The Captain nodded. “Very well. Let me know when you have a firm fix on them.”
“Captain?” Lt. Commander Simms spoke with a note of distress. “We may have a problem.”
“Please elaborate, Commander,”
“It’s the tractor beams, sir. The increased ionic bombardment degrades the graviton beams we can produce.” She shook her head, “I’m not sure we can get a lock on the stallion.”
The Captain fixed Simms with a cold stare. “Then we need another option. We’ll rendezvous in five minutes and I want our people on board this ship – got it?”
Delta swallowed. “Yes sir, I’m on it.”
Akinola’s tone softened. “Get Gralt on it too. I know he’s busy with the engines, but recovering our people is priority one.”
* * *
Star Stallion 01
Molari Badlands
“I’ve got the ship on sensors!” Straus voice was animated. “We’ll rendezvous in two minutes.”
Deryx shook his head. “We aren’t out-running the storm, Commander. We’ve got serious problems.”
“What do you mean?”
“We can’t land in the hangar deck. If they dropped shields for us, it would tear Bluefin apart.”
“True – but can’t they tow us out?”
“That’s the problem.” He gestured out the viewport at the swirling kaleidoscope of energy. “I’m not sure the tractor beams can hold a lock on us in this mess. Hells, they might not work at all!”
Strauss was silent for a moment. “I’m sure they’ve worked out a contingency plan.”
“Let’s hope so.”
The Commander tapped the transmit control. “Stallion oh-one to Bluefin. Do you read us?”
* * *
USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands
“Stallion oh-one to Bluefin, do you . . . us?”
Bane’s hand flew to the communications console.
“Bluefin here – we read you, oh-one. How are you holding up?”
“I’ve had better days,” replied Strauss, “but I think Chief Deryx is enjoying himself. Any ideas about getting us on board?”
Captain Akinola moved beside Bane and leaned over the Operations Officer toward the comm. panel. “XO, this is the Captain. Commander Simms and Gralt have a plan, but it’s risky . . .”
* * *
Stallion 01
Molari Badlands
Inga’s eyes grew wide as she listened to Captain Akinola. She cleared her throat.
“Ah, sir? Has anyone ever tried that before?”
“No,” admitted Akinola, “but it’s the only option we have left. Try to maneuver directly under the engineering hull until your shields contact ours. It will be rough, so Deryx will have to move slowly. Once our shields have engaged, we’ll open a small window between the ship and the stallion. That will allow you to beam over – but you’ll have to do it one at a time. Even with enhanced pattern buffers on both ends, we could lose you if we tried to beam everyone at once.”
Strauss’ mouth was dry. No one had ever attempted a transport in the middle of a high-intensity ion storm. Still, a slim chance was better than no chance.
“Understood, Captain. We’re ready to go on our end.”
Deryx’s expression indicated he was anything but ready, but he took a deep breath and adjusted himself in the pilot’s seat. “I’m taking us in.”
* * *
Despite the hammer blows of concentrated energy, Deryx skillfully guided the stallion beneath the cutter, then slowly moved the small craft toward the looming ship until the shields made contact.
Once more, lights dimmed and a shower of sparks erupted from the environmental panel. Deryx gamely held the stallion in place until the feedback from the shields subsided.
“Bluefin, we’ve made contact,” announced Strauss.
“Acknowledged, Commander. Stand-by for beam out.”
The XO stood from her seat and made her way to the aft cabin. “Let’s go, people – we’re beaming you to our ship, but we don’t have much time.”
Four pale and drawn faces regarded Strauss with puzzlement. They were frozen in fear.
“I said, MOVE!”
Strauss’ shout broke the civilians out of their stupor. They stood quickly and Strauss herded them to the tiny transporter arch aft of the flight deck.
“One at a time, but step quickly. You there – you go first.” She gestured to a young Arkellian who nodded and stepped under the transporter arch.
Strauss tapped her combadge. “The first one is ready for beam out.”
Almost immediately, the woman was engulfed in the transporter wave. Her body shimmered, faded and vanished.
Brusquely, Strauss grabbed the next freighter crewman and maneuvered him under the arch. She repeated the process twice more until the civilians were safely on Bluefin.
“Okay, Chief – you’re next,” she called.
“You go ahead, sir – I’m going to hold her steady for you.”
“Now, Chief! Move your ass, and no arguments.”
Grumbling, Deryx set the controls to automatic and moved nimbly to the arch. Strauss smiled thinly.
“The Captain is the last off the ship, remember?” she asked.
“Stupid tradition,” muttered Chief Deryx.
Strauss tapped her combadge. “Energize.”
The Denobulan disappeared, just as another gravimetric wave slammed into the stallion and the cutter. Strauss could hear the master warning klaxon blare and the computer began speaking in its maddeningly calm voice, “Warning - Shield failure imminent. Structural failure imminent.”
The XO breathed a curse and stepped under the arch. “Bluefin, the shields are failing, energize!”
As the familiar tingle of the transporter enveloped her, she heard a loud screeching and watched with horrified fascination as the hull of the stallion began to split. A loud roar of rushing wind assaulted her ears as the stallion began to depressurize.
She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came forth. A tunnel of bright light appeared before her eyes, then . . .
* * *
. . . she was standing on the transporter dais on the Bluefin. She staggered a moment, dizzy and near to passing out.
Before her stood Chief Deryx, except . . .
Her head was muzzy. How did Deryx manage to change uniforms?
Before she could speak, Deryx slapped his combadge.
“Intruder alert, transporter room one!”
Still dizzy, she forced herself erect. “What the hell? Deryx – what are you doing? And why are you wearing . . .”
The door to the transporter room slid open and Lt. (j.g.) Nigel Bane and a security crewman strode in. Inga’s sudden sense of relief was stemmed by the phaser in crewman's hand. And why was Nigel wearing that older-style uniform? And the pips on his collar were wrong; they indicated the rank of a jay-gee, not a full lieutenant.
Bane’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Strauss. He did not move to help her, but regarded her warily.
“Who the bloody hell are you?” he demanded. “And how did you get on this ship?”
“Nigel! For God’s sake, quit screwing around. Did everyone else beam over alright?”
The Australian Lieutenant looked genuinely baffled. Before Bane could respond, the door slid open again. Strauss stared at the new arrival and her breath caught in her throat.
The tall man with the thick mustache wore commander’s pips on the collar of his burgundy tunic. Though Strauss had never met him, she recognized the man immediately. After all, she had seen his holo-pic many times in T’Ser’s old cabin on Bluefin.
Dale McBride, XO of the USS Bluefin, regarded Inga Strauss with suspicious eyes.
“Lady, I don’t know who you are or how you got here, but you better have some good answers.”
Inga, for her part, finally allowed unconsciousness to claim her and she fell limply to the deck.
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED - Part 2 Coming up Tomorrow.
(Author’s Note: I first wrote and posted this story 15 years ago. If that, or the fact it is rather long, disqualifies it from the challenge, I totally understand. The story is basically unchanged other than some mild editing and a new title. Due to the length, I will post it in several parts over the next few days. This is one of my favorite stories from the Bluefin saga; I hope you enjoy it!)
Sometime in mid-2377
Aboard Star Stallion 01
Somewhere in the Molari Badlands
“Inertial dampeners failing!” shouted Chief Deryx over the din of the howling engines. The raging ion storm battered the star stallion, threatening to overload its shields and overstress its hull.
“Compensating,” replied Commander Inga Strauss. It was all she could do to punch in the commands on the console as the small-craft pitched violently.
In the rear of the stallion, four civilians huddled in terror. Only ten minutes earlier, they had been plucked from their damaged Corvallen freighter by Deryx and Strauss. Their initial relief over being rescued evaporated quickly as the monstrous ion storm exploded with pent-up force, erupting into a force-9 tempest.
Now the rescue small craft was desperately clawing its way back to the Bluefin, which still lay nearly a half-hour distant at full impulse. What had begun as a rather routine rescue mission was now a struggle for survival – a struggle that Deryx and Strauss now wondered if they would win.
“Stallion oh-one to Bluefin, come in please!” Inga’s voice was tight but controlled. Her attempt at communication was met with a burst of static.
“Try emergency power,” suggested the Denobulan CPO as he struggled with the helm controls. The stallion pitched and yawed dangerously, but Deryx managed to keep it under control – barely.
“If I boost the gain much more I’ll blow the sub-space transceiver,” she replied. A sudden jounce caused her to bite her tongue painfully and she tasted the sharp tang of blood. She spat a wad of bloody saliva on the deck and turned her attention back to her console.
“Stallion oh-one to Bluefin – Mayday! Mayday! We are caught in the ion storm – shields and dampeners are failing, please respond.”
Finally, through the static she heard the familiar, welcome voice of Lt. Nigel Bane.
“ . . . oh-one, this is Bluefin. We . . . your mayday and . . . moving to rendezvous with you. What . . . your status?” The concern in Bane’s voice was apparent, despite the weak signal.
Hearing Nigel’s voice gave Strauss a tendril of hope. “Bluefin, we are uninjured but shields are down to 35% and radiation levels are rising. Inertial dampeners are fluctuating and structural integrity fields are beginning to fail. We’re running at full impulse, trying to get ahead of the storm.”
Tendrils of purple and red energy crackled across the viewport, momentarily dazzling Strauss as the stallion shook ominously.
“Acknowledged, oh-one. Adjust . . . to one-one-three mark fourteen . . . should get you clear of . . . leading edge in ten minutes. We . . . en route.”
Deryx punched in the course change and the small craft veered slightly to port. Strauss noticed several warning indicators flashing on the helm console – indicative of engine over-heating as she replied to Bane.
“Understood, Bluefin. We have adjusted course to one-one-three mark fourteen. Be advised our engines are over-heating. . . I’m not sure how much longer we can maintain full impulse.”
Bane’s reply was drowned out in a raucous screech of static as a gravimetric wave slammed into the star stallion. The lights on the tiny vessel dimmed and one of the civilians screamed. The stallion skewed dangerously to starboard before Deryx could bring it back under control. He glanced at Strauss, a sheen of perspiration on his face.
“Nearly lost it that time,” he muttered.
Strauss nodded, her eyes wide. “Yeah.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s hope we don’t hit any more waves like that one.”
The Denobulan chuffed out a breath. “Frakkin’ straight, Commander.”
* * *
USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands
“Stallion oh-one, come in please!”
Bane turned in his chair and shook his head helplessly. “No reply, Captain.” Apprehension etched the young Aussie officer’s face.
Captain Joseph Akinola nodded, his face impassive. He was also worried about Strauss, Deryx and the civilians, but he kept his feelings in check.
“Keep trying Mr. Bane. It’s no surprise that storm is playing hell with the comm. system. Mr. Bralus, time to intercept?”
The Bolian helm officer spared a quick glance at his console as he continued to guide the border cutter into the approaching ion storm.
“Twelve minutes, sir, assuming they maintain course and speed.”
Senior Chief Solly Brin was seated at the aft auxiliary station. The red Orion non-com glowered at the viewscreen.
“I’ve never seen a storm intensify this quickly,” Brin muttered.
“Me neither, Senior Chief,” replied Akinola. A mere half-hour ago, the ion storm appeared to be holding at force 3 – rough, certainly, for civilian ships, but nothing too difficult for the cutter or even the stallions to handle.
Now it was a force 9 monster, with enough power to mangle a border cutter.
Or shred a star stallion.
“Delta, stand by on tractor beams. I want to grab them and haul tail out of here as fast as possible.”
The auburn-haired second officer tapped instructions into the engineering console. “Aye sir. Tractors are on-line and standing by.”
The cutter rocked slightly and the deck trembled under their feet.
“Gravimetric wave,” announced Bane, solemnly. “We’ve crossed the leading edge of the storm.”
“Damn,” murmured Akinola under his breath. The recovery of the stallion had become exponentially more difficult.
* * *
Star Stallion 01
Molari Badlands
“Radiation levels increasing,” remarked Strauss. Her voice was remarkably calm, as if she were merely commenting on the weather.
“Say, Commander? If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not know that kind of stuff,” replied Chief Deryx. He grunted as the stallion lurched while plowing through a dense field of concentrated ion particles.
Strauss forced a smile. “Sorry. I tend to talk more when I’m nervous.”
“Nervous? What have you got to be nervous about? This is a walk in the . . .”
A klaxon sounded and the computer voice interrupted.
“Warning – radiation levels are now at dangerous levels. Decontamination protocols should be followed. Please report to the nearest medical facility as soon as possible.”
“Frakkin’ know-it-all computer,” growled Deryx. He spared a quick glance toward Strauss. “How much time does that give us?”
“I thought you didn’t want to know.”
“I changed my mind.”
Strauss frowned in thought. “Probably ten minutes before radiation levels reach the lethal zone. Assuming the shields don’t fail. If they do . . .”
The Chief’s mottled face took on a paler cast. “I see. Guess we better rendezvous with the ship before then.”
“Sounds like a plan, Chief.”
* * *
USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands
The cutter smashed through gravimetric waves and eddies of coalesced energy as it plowed doggedly toward the wounded star stallion. Already, they were facing force 6 ion levels.
Akinola rocked slightly in the command chair as the cutter doggedly moved through heavier levels of ionic bombardment.
“Status, Mr. Bane,” he queried.
“Shields still holding at 85% and structural integrity fields operating at maximum, but the storm is now moving directly our way.” He shook his head in frustration. “We’ll be in the thick of it when we reach the stallion.”
The Captain nodded. “Very well. Let me know when you have a firm fix on them.”
“Captain?” Lt. Commander Simms spoke with a note of distress. “We may have a problem.”
“Please elaborate, Commander,”
“It’s the tractor beams, sir. The increased ionic bombardment degrades the graviton beams we can produce.” She shook her head, “I’m not sure we can get a lock on the stallion.”
The Captain fixed Simms with a cold stare. “Then we need another option. We’ll rendezvous in five minutes and I want our people on board this ship – got it?”
Delta swallowed. “Yes sir, I’m on it.”
Akinola’s tone softened. “Get Gralt on it too. I know he’s busy with the engines, but recovering our people is priority one.”
* * *
Star Stallion 01
Molari Badlands
“I’ve got the ship on sensors!” Straus voice was animated. “We’ll rendezvous in two minutes.”
Deryx shook his head. “We aren’t out-running the storm, Commander. We’ve got serious problems.”
“What do you mean?”
“We can’t land in the hangar deck. If they dropped shields for us, it would tear Bluefin apart.”
“True – but can’t they tow us out?”
“That’s the problem.” He gestured out the viewport at the swirling kaleidoscope of energy. “I’m not sure the tractor beams can hold a lock on us in this mess. Hells, they might not work at all!”
Strauss was silent for a moment. “I’m sure they’ve worked out a contingency plan.”
“Let’s hope so.”
The Commander tapped the transmit control. “Stallion oh-one to Bluefin. Do you read us?”
* * *
USS Bluefin
Molari Badlands
“Stallion oh-one to Bluefin, do you . . . us?”
Bane’s hand flew to the communications console.
“Bluefin here – we read you, oh-one. How are you holding up?”
“I’ve had better days,” replied Strauss, “but I think Chief Deryx is enjoying himself. Any ideas about getting us on board?”
Captain Akinola moved beside Bane and leaned over the Operations Officer toward the comm. panel. “XO, this is the Captain. Commander Simms and Gralt have a plan, but it’s risky . . .”
* * *
Stallion 01
Molari Badlands
Inga’s eyes grew wide as she listened to Captain Akinola. She cleared her throat.
“Ah, sir? Has anyone ever tried that before?”
“No,” admitted Akinola, “but it’s the only option we have left. Try to maneuver directly under the engineering hull until your shields contact ours. It will be rough, so Deryx will have to move slowly. Once our shields have engaged, we’ll open a small window between the ship and the stallion. That will allow you to beam over – but you’ll have to do it one at a time. Even with enhanced pattern buffers on both ends, we could lose you if we tried to beam everyone at once.”
Strauss’ mouth was dry. No one had ever attempted a transport in the middle of a high-intensity ion storm. Still, a slim chance was better than no chance.
“Understood, Captain. We’re ready to go on our end.”
Deryx’s expression indicated he was anything but ready, but he took a deep breath and adjusted himself in the pilot’s seat. “I’m taking us in.”
* * *
Despite the hammer blows of concentrated energy, Deryx skillfully guided the stallion beneath the cutter, then slowly moved the small craft toward the looming ship until the shields made contact.
Once more, lights dimmed and a shower of sparks erupted from the environmental panel. Deryx gamely held the stallion in place until the feedback from the shields subsided.
“Bluefin, we’ve made contact,” announced Strauss.
“Acknowledged, Commander. Stand-by for beam out.”
The XO stood from her seat and made her way to the aft cabin. “Let’s go, people – we’re beaming you to our ship, but we don’t have much time.”
Four pale and drawn faces regarded Strauss with puzzlement. They were frozen in fear.
“I said, MOVE!”
Strauss’ shout broke the civilians out of their stupor. They stood quickly and Strauss herded them to the tiny transporter arch aft of the flight deck.
“One at a time, but step quickly. You there – you go first.” She gestured to a young Arkellian who nodded and stepped under the transporter arch.
Strauss tapped her combadge. “The first one is ready for beam out.”
Almost immediately, the woman was engulfed in the transporter wave. Her body shimmered, faded and vanished.
Brusquely, Strauss grabbed the next freighter crewman and maneuvered him under the arch. She repeated the process twice more until the civilians were safely on Bluefin.
“Okay, Chief – you’re next,” she called.
“You go ahead, sir – I’m going to hold her steady for you.”
“Now, Chief! Move your ass, and no arguments.”
Grumbling, Deryx set the controls to automatic and moved nimbly to the arch. Strauss smiled thinly.
“The Captain is the last off the ship, remember?” she asked.
“Stupid tradition,” muttered Chief Deryx.
Strauss tapped her combadge. “Energize.”
The Denobulan disappeared, just as another gravimetric wave slammed into the stallion and the cutter. Strauss could hear the master warning klaxon blare and the computer began speaking in its maddeningly calm voice, “Warning - Shield failure imminent. Structural failure imminent.”
The XO breathed a curse and stepped under the arch. “Bluefin, the shields are failing, energize!”
As the familiar tingle of the transporter enveloped her, she heard a loud screeching and watched with horrified fascination as the hull of the stallion began to split. A loud roar of rushing wind assaulted her ears as the stallion began to depressurize.
She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came forth. A tunnel of bright light appeared before her eyes, then . . .
* * *
. . . she was standing on the transporter dais on the Bluefin. She staggered a moment, dizzy and near to passing out.
Before her stood Chief Deryx, except . . .
Her head was muzzy. How did Deryx manage to change uniforms?
Before she could speak, Deryx slapped his combadge.
“Intruder alert, transporter room one!”
Still dizzy, she forced herself erect. “What the hell? Deryx – what are you doing? And why are you wearing . . .”
The door to the transporter room slid open and Lt. (j.g.) Nigel Bane and a security crewman strode in. Inga’s sudden sense of relief was stemmed by the phaser in crewman's hand. And why was Nigel wearing that older-style uniform? And the pips on his collar were wrong; they indicated the rank of a jay-gee, not a full lieutenant.
Bane’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Strauss. He did not move to help her, but regarded her warily.
“Who the bloody hell are you?” he demanded. “And how did you get on this ship?”
“Nigel! For God’s sake, quit screwing around. Did everyone else beam over alright?”
The Australian Lieutenant looked genuinely baffled. Before Bane could respond, the door slid open again. Strauss stared at the new arrival and her breath caught in her throat.
The tall man with the thick mustache wore commander’s pips on the collar of his burgundy tunic. Though Strauss had never met him, she recognized the man immediately. After all, she had seen his holo-pic many times in T’Ser’s old cabin on Bluefin.
Dale McBride, XO of the USS Bluefin, regarded Inga Strauss with suspicious eyes.
“Lady, I don’t know who you are or how you got here, but you better have some good answers.”
Inga, for her part, finally allowed unconsciousness to claim her and she fell limply to the deck.
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED - Part 2 Coming up Tomorrow.
