I want to thank Robert Bruce Scott for proofreading this.
Stardate 38681.16 (September 6, 2361)
USS Samson(NCC-77002)
Near the Delphi System
Captain's Log, Supplemental. The Samson has been diverted from it's scheduled survey of the Antares Nebula and has been assigned a priority one investigation of the complete and catastrophic destruction of Zeta Reticuli IV in the Delphi system. The cause is unknown, but preliminary sensor data suggests an energy signature unlike anything previously recorded. My gut tells me this is more than just a stellar anomaly. The crew is on high alert, and tensions are running high as we approach.
The bridge of the USS Samson hummed with focused tension. Captain Lara Kanisky, stood stiffly, her gaze fixed on the main viewscreen. The starfield was a familiar sight, yet now it seemed to hold its breath, waiting. The usual comforting white noise of the ship felt brittle, threatening to shatter at any moment.
"Report!" her voice sliced through the silence, tight with a controlled urgency. She could feel a knot in her stomach, a cold finger tracing her spine. This wasn't a standard mission; the tension in her crew was too palpable for that.
Ensign H'Rell, his typically smooth, silica-based face creased with worry, swiveled from his science station. The Horta's natural stoicism was cracking under the weight of what he was seeing. "Captain, energy readings are fluctuating wildly. The spectra are… chaotic." His voice, normally a low rumble, was unusually high-pitched. He tapped furiously at his console, his crystalline hands moving with uncharacteristic haste. "It's… nothing like I've ever seen. The patterns are not conforming to any known matter-energy conversion." His brow furrowed, forming a cluster of delicate rocky ridges that spoke of his personal fears, "It is unnerving, Captain. This is a nightmare…"
Kanisky's eyes flicked to the viewscreen, searching for the source of the unease. She prided herself on remaining calm in a crisis, but the unsettling quiet of the debris field was unnerving. It belied the violence that had occurred here.
A flicker then bloomed across the viewscreen – a brief, shimmering distortion of the starfield, as if a vast, unseen hand had brushed against the canvas of reality. It was there and gone in the blink of an eye, leaving a lingering sense of displacement.
"Computer, log that anomaly," Lieutenant Xylar's voice was slightly shaky, his normally vibrant blue skin now tinged with a pale grey. The Rigellian's hand trembled as he gripped the tactical station. Xylar was known for his unflappable nature, his constant need to polish his many rings was a sign that he was under stress. "Did anyone else… did anyone else see that?" He swallowed, his usually steady voice wavering.
A low rhythmic thrum began to vibrate through the floor plates. Not a mechanical tremor, but a deep, resonant heartbeat, organic and alien. It pulsed through Kanisky, resonating deep within her bones, unearthing an old fear, from early childhood. The memory of a large, jolly man, his eyes all encompassing with their power, came to the surface. She shook her head, trying to clear it. That childlike fear was ridiculous.
"Shields up! Evasive maneuvers!" she ordered, her voice losing its usual firmness, a slight tremor creeping in.
The Samson lurched, and Kanisky stumbled, catching herself on the tactical console. "Helm, what's happening?" Kanisky turned to Ensign Lee Grogan.
The Ensign's hands were white-knuckled as he struggled with the controls. His eyes, usually full of optimism, were wide with terror. He suddenly felt a cold sweat coat his skin. All he could think about was the images of the "Mole People" flickering in head like a haunted movie. Their gaunt faces, hollow eyes, and twisted, emaciated bodies writhed in the dark, subterranean tunnels. He could hear their eerie whispers, echoing through the hollow corridors, and feel the cold, damp air that seemed to seep into his bones. He shook his head and swallowed.
"Captain, I'm losing control!" the Ensign's face flushed, strained at the helm controls, his knuckles white. Every muscle in his body was clenched and his lip was trembling slightly. His eyes, wide with dawning terror, darted to the viewscreen. "It's like… like the ship doesn't want to obey. The controls are lagging behind my input." He took a deep, shuddering breath. . "It's like… it's like it's being pulled apart."
At the science station, H'Rell gasped, his crystalline brow ridges contracting sharply. He looked like a statue carved from stone that was falling to pieces, the smooth lines of his body being fractured. "I can hear them. So many voices… crying out for their mothers. The cracking of their shells… the miners…" He clutched at his head, his voice barely a whisper as he reeled from a telepathic torrent. He was hearing the death cries of lost eggs.
Kanisky fought to maintain a grip on the situation, but a cold dread was creeping through her. This was not a battle; it was far more insidious. This wasn't being fought. This was… consumption. This was not like being in deep space; here she was more like being under the ocean, waiting to be swallowed by leviathan.
"Open a channel to Starfleet Command," she commanded, her voice barely a whisper. "Tell them… tell them it's…"
A tendril of raw, violet energy, like a living lightning bolt, lashed out from the void, striking the bridge. The lights flickered, throwing long, grotesque shadows. Kanisky gasped, the shock rippling through her. The ship bucked and groaned around her. She felt a crushing pressure, an agonizing tearing sensation, as if her soul was being ripped from her body.
Before she could finish, a tendril of pure energy lashed out from the viewscreen, striking her square in the chest. She was thrown back, her body slamming into the command chair. The pain was excruciating, a searing heat that seemed to burn from the inside out. As she struggled to regain her footing, the thrumming grew louder, the ship shuddered violently, and the lights began to flicker, casting long, distorted shadows across the bridge.
"Helm, what's happening?" she demanded, her voice trembling as much as her body. The bridge was a cacophony of alarms and frantic voices, but the only answer was Grogan's desperate cries.
"Captain, I can't—!"
Another tendril of energy struck the ship, this time tearing through the deck plating and sending debris flying. The bridge crew was thrown off their feet, and the ship groaned in protest. H'Rell's body was partially embedded in the floor, his stone skin cracking under the immense pressure.
"Captain, the ship is being... consumed," Xylar gasped, his voice strained. "It's... it's pulling us in."
Kanisky's vision blurred and she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. She clutched the locket in her hand, her fingers digging into the metal. "Erect the emergency force fields... now!"
But it was too late. The energy tendrils were everywhere, pulling the ship apart piece by piece.
Kanisky fell to her knees, clutching her chest. Her lips moved in silent prayer, a childhood invocation whispered into the void – a final plea to a long-forgotten God. "Lord, now I lay me down to sleep..." Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed to the floor, like a broken doll.
The rhythmic thrum intensified, becoming a deep, resonant drone that seemed to vibrate even the stars themselves. On the viewscreen, the starfield began to twist and writhe, as if the very fabric of space was unraveling. The ship's internal lights began to pulsate with red then purple then finally a deep black. The comm system crackled, a garbled transmission breaking through the cacophony.
"...we are one… becoming one…" A strange and unidentifiable voice came through the speakers then abruptly cut out.
Then, silence. The rhythmic thrum ceased, leaving an unsettling void. The USS Samson, and its crew, were gone. The distortion of the starfield dissipated, leaving no trace of the Miranda-class starship. The void of space was still again. The silence was total.
The object, now more potent and aware, continued to grow and learn. Each ship and crew it absorbed added to its knowledge and power, a dark, insatiable hunger that drove it deeper into the reaches of space. It was a force beyond understanding, a creature that had emerged from the void with a singular purpose: to consume and become one with all it encountered. The destruction of Zeta Reticuli IV was only the beginning. The universe was vast, and it had much to learn.
END
Stardate 38681.16 (September 6, 2361)
USS Samson(NCC-77002)
Near the Delphi System
Captain's Log, Supplemental. The Samson has been diverted from it's scheduled survey of the Antares Nebula and has been assigned a priority one investigation of the complete and catastrophic destruction of Zeta Reticuli IV in the Delphi system. The cause is unknown, but preliminary sensor data suggests an energy signature unlike anything previously recorded. My gut tells me this is more than just a stellar anomaly. The crew is on high alert, and tensions are running high as we approach.
The bridge of the USS Samson hummed with focused tension. Captain Lara Kanisky, stood stiffly, her gaze fixed on the main viewscreen. The starfield was a familiar sight, yet now it seemed to hold its breath, waiting. The usual comforting white noise of the ship felt brittle, threatening to shatter at any moment.
"Report!" her voice sliced through the silence, tight with a controlled urgency. She could feel a knot in her stomach, a cold finger tracing her spine. This wasn't a standard mission; the tension in her crew was too palpable for that.
Ensign H'Rell, his typically smooth, silica-based face creased with worry, swiveled from his science station. The Horta's natural stoicism was cracking under the weight of what he was seeing. "Captain, energy readings are fluctuating wildly. The spectra are… chaotic." His voice, normally a low rumble, was unusually high-pitched. He tapped furiously at his console, his crystalline hands moving with uncharacteristic haste. "It's… nothing like I've ever seen. The patterns are not conforming to any known matter-energy conversion." His brow furrowed, forming a cluster of delicate rocky ridges that spoke of his personal fears, "It is unnerving, Captain. This is a nightmare…"
Kanisky's eyes flicked to the viewscreen, searching for the source of the unease. She prided herself on remaining calm in a crisis, but the unsettling quiet of the debris field was unnerving. It belied the violence that had occurred here.
A flicker then bloomed across the viewscreen – a brief, shimmering distortion of the starfield, as if a vast, unseen hand had brushed against the canvas of reality. It was there and gone in the blink of an eye, leaving a lingering sense of displacement.
"Computer, log that anomaly," Lieutenant Xylar's voice was slightly shaky, his normally vibrant blue skin now tinged with a pale grey. The Rigellian's hand trembled as he gripped the tactical station. Xylar was known for his unflappable nature, his constant need to polish his many rings was a sign that he was under stress. "Did anyone else… did anyone else see that?" He swallowed, his usually steady voice wavering.
A low rhythmic thrum began to vibrate through the floor plates. Not a mechanical tremor, but a deep, resonant heartbeat, organic and alien. It pulsed through Kanisky, resonating deep within her bones, unearthing an old fear, from early childhood. The memory of a large, jolly man, his eyes all encompassing with their power, came to the surface. She shook her head, trying to clear it. That childlike fear was ridiculous.
"Shields up! Evasive maneuvers!" she ordered, her voice losing its usual firmness, a slight tremor creeping in.
The Samson lurched, and Kanisky stumbled, catching herself on the tactical console. "Helm, what's happening?" Kanisky turned to Ensign Lee Grogan.
The Ensign's hands were white-knuckled as he struggled with the controls. His eyes, usually full of optimism, were wide with terror. He suddenly felt a cold sweat coat his skin. All he could think about was the images of the "Mole People" flickering in head like a haunted movie. Their gaunt faces, hollow eyes, and twisted, emaciated bodies writhed in the dark, subterranean tunnels. He could hear their eerie whispers, echoing through the hollow corridors, and feel the cold, damp air that seemed to seep into his bones. He shook his head and swallowed.
"Captain, I'm losing control!" the Ensign's face flushed, strained at the helm controls, his knuckles white. Every muscle in his body was clenched and his lip was trembling slightly. His eyes, wide with dawning terror, darted to the viewscreen. "It's like… like the ship doesn't want to obey. The controls are lagging behind my input." He took a deep, shuddering breath. . "It's like… it's like it's being pulled apart."
At the science station, H'Rell gasped, his crystalline brow ridges contracting sharply. He looked like a statue carved from stone that was falling to pieces, the smooth lines of his body being fractured. "I can hear them. So many voices… crying out for their mothers. The cracking of their shells… the miners…" He clutched at his head, his voice barely a whisper as he reeled from a telepathic torrent. He was hearing the death cries of lost eggs.
Kanisky fought to maintain a grip on the situation, but a cold dread was creeping through her. This was not a battle; it was far more insidious. This wasn't being fought. This was… consumption. This was not like being in deep space; here she was more like being under the ocean, waiting to be swallowed by leviathan.
"Open a channel to Starfleet Command," she commanded, her voice barely a whisper. "Tell them… tell them it's…"
A tendril of raw, violet energy, like a living lightning bolt, lashed out from the void, striking the bridge. The lights flickered, throwing long, grotesque shadows. Kanisky gasped, the shock rippling through her. The ship bucked and groaned around her. She felt a crushing pressure, an agonizing tearing sensation, as if her soul was being ripped from her body.
Before she could finish, a tendril of pure energy lashed out from the viewscreen, striking her square in the chest. She was thrown back, her body slamming into the command chair. The pain was excruciating, a searing heat that seemed to burn from the inside out. As she struggled to regain her footing, the thrumming grew louder, the ship shuddered violently, and the lights began to flicker, casting long, distorted shadows across the bridge.
"Helm, what's happening?" she demanded, her voice trembling as much as her body. The bridge was a cacophony of alarms and frantic voices, but the only answer was Grogan's desperate cries.
"Captain, I can't—!"
Another tendril of energy struck the ship, this time tearing through the deck plating and sending debris flying. The bridge crew was thrown off their feet, and the ship groaned in protest. H'Rell's body was partially embedded in the floor, his stone skin cracking under the immense pressure.
"Captain, the ship is being... consumed," Xylar gasped, his voice strained. "It's... it's pulling us in."
Kanisky's vision blurred and she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. She clutched the locket in her hand, her fingers digging into the metal. "Erect the emergency force fields... now!"
But it was too late. The energy tendrils were everywhere, pulling the ship apart piece by piece.
Kanisky fell to her knees, clutching her chest. Her lips moved in silent prayer, a childhood invocation whispered into the void – a final plea to a long-forgotten God. "Lord, now I lay me down to sleep..." Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed to the floor, like a broken doll.
The rhythmic thrum intensified, becoming a deep, resonant drone that seemed to vibrate even the stars themselves. On the viewscreen, the starfield began to twist and writhe, as if the very fabric of space was unraveling. The ship's internal lights began to pulsate with red then purple then finally a deep black. The comm system crackled, a garbled transmission breaking through the cacophony.
"...we are one… becoming one…" A strange and unidentifiable voice came through the speakers then abruptly cut out.
Then, silence. The rhythmic thrum ceased, leaving an unsettling void. The USS Samson, and its crew, were gone. The distortion of the starfield dissipated, leaving no trace of the Miranda-class starship. The void of space was still again. The silence was total.
The object, now more potent and aware, continued to grow and learn. Each ship and crew it absorbed added to its knowledge and power, a dark, insatiable hunger that drove it deeper into the reaches of space. It was a force beyond understanding, a creature that had emerged from the void with a singular purpose: to consume and become one with all it encountered. The destruction of Zeta Reticuli IV was only the beginning. The universe was vast, and it had much to learn.
END
