TERMINUS
by Soledad
Fandom: Star Trek – The Next Generation
Genre: Action-adventure
Rating: G, suitable for all
Disclaimer: All Star Trek belongs to Gene Roddenberry and Viacom or whoever owns the rights at this moment. I don't make any profit out of this – I wish I would, but I don't, so suing me would be pointless. This particular story is based on the similarly-titled story idea of Philip & Eugene Price.
Timeframe: Season 3, after "Tin Man" but before "Hollow Pursuits".
Summary: The Enterprise is to deliver supplies to the Starbase terminal Bynax II, under the command of Picard's old friend, Commodore Ty Norsen. The assignment turns extremely serious when they receive a distress signal from Norsen, claiming that Bynax II is in extreme danger. Nothing else is stated in the announcement…
Note: The Bridrani are Carli's species from "Blood & Ice". Carli's looks were based on Colin Morgan as he appeared in "Merlin". Ensign Rina's looks are based on Virginia Moffet as she appeared in "The Doctor's Daughter", in Dr Who. However, this doesn't mean that either of those characters would be male or female. They are Bridrani, and that's a category unto itself.
Chapter 01 – Encounter in Deep Space
The USS Enterprise, Starfleet's flagship, was hurling through deep space at Warp speed – at maximal travelling velocity, in fact – distorting the light of the stars outside to long, slightly bent, multi-coloured streaks. It was a spectacular view, yet one most people would find unnerving, therefore most real windows on the ship were obscured during Warp transit, save for Ten Forward, where it was part of the attraction, and some personal quarters where people could arrange such things individually.
It was the beginning of Gamma shift – also known as the night watch – according to the ship's own time. The lights on the bridge were down, with only the Ops and Conn stations illuminated. The skeleton crew of the night watch was going quietly about its business.
In his quarters, a pensive Captain Picard was pacing restlessly, trying to compose a log entry that somehow kept eluding him. Finally, he paused in front of the antique brass ship's barometer mounted on the bulkhead and began to speak.
"Captain's log, Stardate 43795.4.
The Enterprise is bound for Bynax II near the Pleiades Cluster – a Starbase terminal under the command of my old friend Commodore Ty Norsen – to rendezvous with a Starfleet courier USS Cairo. We are to deliver supplies to the Starbase and to collect documents from the Cairo; documents about certain diplomatic efforts, too sensitive to be transferred via subspace channels.
Hopefully, the mission will provide an opportunity to evaluate our newest Specialist Trainee, Ensign Rina. In the short time s/he's been aboard, Specialist Trainee Rina has distinguished hirself as a meticulous and competent junior engineer. But will the engineering staff be able to get used to the very specific nature of hir species or will hir presence cause unwelcome interruptions in the smooth working of Engineering? She's the first Bridrani to work on a Starfleet ship as a full crewmember – we're exploring newland here."
Absently, the captain rapped the barometer's face plate with his knuckles. To his surprise, the needle moved - pointing to "STORMY." Picard shook his head ruefully, wondering for a moment whether this had been a mere coincidence… or perhaps a warning.
The object of the captain's thoughts, meanwhile, was sitting at a table in Ten Forward, near the bow ports. S/he was surrounded by Commander Riker, Geordi LaForge and several male crewmembers from Engineering, all of whom were listening to her with rapt interest.
Part of the reason for such focused interest must have been the fact that Specialist Trainee Rina was an arrestingly beautiful young woman: delicate, almost sprite-like, with hir blonde hair pulled back to a tight ponytail from hir heart-shaped face that was dominated by a pair of luminous blue eyes. Exactly the kind of woman that could make grown men weak-kneed, even in the 24th century.
Except that s/he wasn't a woman. Not exclusively, that is.
Hir people were a rare species of androgynous humanoids that only showed male or female characteristics when going into heat, in which case they switched genders to accommodate the choice of their partner. For the rest of the year they were completely asexual, living out their lives in complicated tribal bonds and doing what they were best suited to, for the good of the entire tribe.
Rarely did one of them leave their homeworld Briria – an insignificant little planet in a strategically unimportant star system, deep within Federation territory that nobody else wanted – to live among strangers. Too often had they faced bewilderment or even downright hostility in the past when their nature was revealed. They weren't even members of the Federation, although they did trade with the closest Federation worlds, and their specialists – mostly medical technicians and nurses, as they had a unique knack for healing – sometimes took part in Starfleet's officer exchange program. Those contacts were always temporary, though, since Briria only had a small merchant fleet.
Ensign Rina was the first and so far only Bridrani to be accepted at Starfleet Academy and chose to live and serve among other species for any length of time. Which explained the other reason why people were so interested in hir.
"Warp drive theory always came easy for me," s/he explained hir audience innocently, "but I'm looking forward to some hands on experience."
"I'm sure we'll be able to accommodate you," Riker drawled.
Rina pretended that s/he hadn't caught the innuendo. S/he was well aware that the XO was flirting with hir, but s/he was not the least flattered. She concentrated on finishing hir drink, feeling more than a little uncomfortable.
Geordi LaForge, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to the tension.
"I know what you mean," he said with a wide, happy grin. "It's a really electrifying experience to be down there where the action is. Whenever I push the drive past Warp six I still get a lump in my throat."
Rina smiled tentatively, glad to have found a kindred spirit. Riker, however, who didn't like being ignored, broke their moment by taking the empty glass from hir hand.
"Can I get you another?" he asked, already standing.
Rina gave him a slightly annoyed look through hir impossibly long eyelashes. "Tell me, Commander, is it the custom on the Enterprise for the First Officer to wait on trainees?"
"If they were all like you, I'm certain it would be," Riker answered with a leer and headed to the bar, carrying two empty glasses.
He was, however, intercepted by Dr Selar who had just entered Ten Forward with flawless Vulcan timing.
"Commander," she said without preamble. "You missed your test this morning. I suggest that you report to Sickbay at the first acceptable time."
Riker turned around, a hint of unease flickering across his bearded face. "My apologies, Doctor. A minor crisis... in Engineering."
Selar was clearly not buying it… not surprisingly. Had there been any real crisis in Engineering, she'd have already learned about it from Ensign Taurik. Vulcan logic and gossip had long figured out their way of peaceful coexistence.
"You behaviour is completely illogical, Commander," she declared. "Taking a Rheinman tissue sample is a routine test. I can assure you there's no physical discomfort involved."
"It's not that!" Riker protested; being called a coward in front of the crew wasn't very flattering. "It's just... my duties are so diverse… Suppose we leave the appointment open?"
Selar shook her head. "Commander, there are over one thousand people aboard the Enterprise. If we did not work on a tight schedule, we would never get our work done. So no, we cannot leave the appointment open."
"But it's just an unimportant detail..." Riker tried, but a raised Vulcan eyebrow told him this was a dead-end.
"If I did not consider it important I would not insist," Selar declared coldly. "Do not force me to relieve you of duty to make my point, Commander; rest assured that I will do it."
"You can't be…" Riker trailed off because a Vulcan – any Vulcan – by default couldn't be anything but serious. "I'll work something out. But my schedule is tight for the next three or four days..."
Selar glanced towards the table where Rina and Geordi were still in animated conversation.
"So I see," she said with such extreme dryness it would have put the hottest desert on her homeworld to shame. "It is my duty as a healer to warn you, though, Commander: a mere human would find it very hard to keep up with a Bridrani in heat. Be thankful they all take heat suppressants outside their homeworld."
With that parting shot, she walked out again, leaving a dumbfounded Riker behind.
Rina and Geordi had fallen silent, watching the stars streak towards them beyond the ports. This was the first time s/he had a clear view since coming aboard and was greatly impressed.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" s/he asked softly.
Geordi nodded. Thanks to his VISOR he could "see" the ship's navigational shield as a gossamer scrim of shimmering colour, and beyond it countless waves of energy bursting from exploding suns.
"The most beautiful thing I know," he agreed.
Rina turned to him in surprise, clearly not used to hearing men talk like this. S/he had the feeling that – given enough time – they could become friends, despite the rank difference.
Captain Picard stood in the darkness of his quarters, his face bathed in starlight. He was staring out the port at the same view that had so fascinated Rina. Yes, most people were uneasy at the sight of the Warp-distorted stars. A small minority, however, could not get enough of them. Stargazers, they were called, half-mockingly and half with grudging respect.
Jean-Luc Picard was one of these few. Had always been. The stars had fascinated him since his early childhood; called him away from his simple, traditional home in France with their siren song a long time ago. Now they were the only home he would ever have. The only home he would ever need. That his first ever command had been a ship named the Stargazer almost counted as an omen.
The chime of the comm. system interrupted his meditation and he turned to the comm panel with a sigh. So much for a quiet evening. "Picard."
"Captain, this is the Bridge," Data's unmistakable voice answered; the android usually had the Bridge during Gamma shift. "We're receiving a distress signal on an open sub-space frequency."
"Sound emergency stations, and respond on the same frequency," Picard ordered, rushing for the door. He would deal with the details later; now he had to see that the ship was ready to face anything.
When he reached the Bridge, the command staff was already there, Riker and Counselor Troi sitting on either side of the command chair. Data had vacated it in favour of returning to the Ops station. Worf stood at Tactical, scowling at his readings; but Worf was always scowling for one reason or another, so that didn't really mean much.
Only at Conn was still the duty ensign sitting, but before Picard could make a remark, Ensign Wesley Crusher finally emerged from the turbolift, adjusting his uniform and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stopped at the food slot, grabbed a cup of tea, and moved to replace the duty ensign at the Conn. This wasn't exactly by-the-rules, but still better than falling asleep by one's duty station, Picard admitted.
"Sickbay on full emergency status, Captain," Dr Crusher reported through the comm. panel.
"Stand by, Doctor," Picard took his place in the command chair. "Commander Data. Have we locked on to the signal yet?"
"Yes, sir," the android replied. "A voice only transmission from Starbase terminal Bynax II."
"Let me hear it," Picard ordered.
Data touched one of his controls and the strong, resonant voice of a man spoke in a slightly accented Standard.
"This is Commodore Ty Norsen in command of Starbase Terminal Bynax II to all Federation ships in close proximity. We are in extreme danger. I repeat: we are in extreme danger and need immediate assistance."
"Communication seems to be one-way, sir," Data added. "Our attempts to answer the distress call have been so far unsuccessful. They do not appear to receive our calls."
"I see," Picard thought for a moment. "What is our ETA on Bynax II?"
"By current speed two days, sixteen hours, forty-two minutes and thirteen seconds, sir," Data replied, earning the usual collective eyerolls. "And counting," he added in the half-hearted attempt of a joke.
The eyerolls were now accompanied by groans. Only Picard seemed unaffected.
"Too long," he said. "Alter course directly to Bynax II and go to maximum Warp. And send a message to the USS Cairo that we might be late for our rendezvous."
"Course altered," Wesley reported, entering the new course.
"Execute," Riker said in a clipped tone; then, to Worf, he added. "Let's go to Yellow Alert."
The Klingon nodded his massive head. "Yellow Alert, sir."
The klaxons began to how.
Down in Engineering, the crew routinely moved to alert stations as the klaxons continued to howl. Geordi hurried in, with Rina hot on his heels and replaced the duty engineer at the command console… right on time to answer Riker's call from the Bridge.
"Give us maximum Warp," the XO ordered.
"Maximum Warp, sir," Geordi acknowledged his orders; then he grinned at his crew. "Let's show 'em what we've got."
The crew sprang to action. Rina, too, seemed electrified.
"What can I do, sir?" she asked eagerly.
"Go to the back panels and give me a direct reading of the dilithium temperature spread," Geordi replied.
The little alien hurried off, practically drenching the entire main deck in endorphins in hir excitement. Unfortunately, at the same moment Crewman Nelson, an engineer within the operations division, happened to be up on the catwalk. He got distracted by hir, tripped and tumbled over the railing onto the main deck. The automatic alarm sounded at once, like always when somebody got hurt, and several people – including Rina – rushed to the man's aid.
Ensign Martinez, the med tech on duty in Engineering, ordered everyone to step back and let him do his job. Scanning the injured man with his medical tricorder, he pulled a face.
"Your leg is broken," he told Nelson. "I'll ask for an emergency beam-out, directly to Sickbay; the bone needs to be knitted."
"What happened?" Geordi asked, coming in running.
Nelson sighed. His handsome, bronze-skinned face was bathed in cold sweat and he was in obvious pain.
"My fault, sir," he confessed. "Missed the turn."
Geordi looked up at the catwalk, then down at Nelson... and finally at Rina, having gained a fair idea how the accident might have happened.
"Ensign," he said in a pained voice. "Maybe you better stay in the control room."
The little alien recoiled as if s/he'd been slapped. But s/he said nothing. Wounded, s/he got to her feet and left; hir fragile shoulders slumped in defeat.
Nelson looked after hir with sympathy. "It wasn't her fault, sir!"
"I know," Geordi sighed. "But that doesn't make things any less complicated."
Several hours later the Enterprise was still speeding towards Bynax II with maximum Warp. Gamma shift had ended and Alpha shift had begun – not that it would make much difference, since the command staff automatically went on duty whenever the ship was in alert status.
Picard chose to retreat to his ready room, leaving the bridge in Data's capable hands – the android didn't get tired, so he was actually a safer choice than the captain himself – to look up the reports from the previous night. Learning about Crewman Nelson's accident (and the reason for it) didn't help to improve his mood.
He'd been warned about the risks of having a Bridrani as a regular member of the crow, but he also knew that Ensign Rina was a technical genius who had worked hard to earn hirself the right to serve on a starship. It wasn't hir fault that human males were defenceless against hir pheromones. Even on heat suppressants, a Bridrani was a sheer irresistible temptation for anyone with testosterone in their system whenever s/he got excited.
Only Deltans were even worse, but Deltans were an old and powerful race, more than capable of dealing with the situation.
It was simple biochemistry and neither side was at fault. But it did complicate things, and Picard began to doubt if the advantage of having somebody with Ensign Rina's instinctive understanding of Warp physics aboard truly outweighed the risks caused by hir mere presence.
His comm. unit chimed, interrupting his brooding.
"Captain," Data said, "long-range sensors are picking up an unidentified object approaching us."
"On my way," Picard was already at the door.
As he stepped out onto the Bridge, Data rose from the command chair and went over to Science Station #1.
"The object appears to be of mechanical nature," he reported. "It is approaching us with Warp factor nine point nine six seven."
Eerie silence answered the announcement. That was just slightly faster than the Enterprise was capable of. Picard didn't allow the fact to catch him off-balance, though.
"Which means it will be in visual range, soon," he said.
"Correct, sir," the android replied.
"Put it on the main viewer as soon as we got the first glance," Picard ordered. "I want to see what can be so incredibly fast."
"So do I, Captain," LaForge admitted, stepping out of the turbolift, Rina in tow. "Come on, Ensign, you'll get a chance to see what the Bridge is like on alert."
He sat down to the Engineering console; Rina shyly following him to watch over his shoulder. S/he looked like a frightened deer. Feeling a bit sorry for hir, Picard gave hir a friendly smile.
"Ensign; your first time on the Bridge, isn't it?"
The little alien was clearly flattered at being noticed by the captain, but s/he was still trying to keep an eye on what LaForge was doing.
"Yes, sir," s/he murmured absently.
"Perhaps you'd like to take a look from down here," Picard continued, indicating the area in font of the main viewer.
S/he appeared frustrated by the offer but didn't really have a choice.
"Thank you, Captain," s/he said politely and walked down to the lower area.
"Captain," Data swivelled around with his chair. "The object has just come into visual range."
"Finally!" Picard nodded in satisfaction. "Onscreen. Maximum magnification, Mr Data!"
"Maximum magnification, aye, sir," the android acknowledged the order and put the image on the main viewer.
Everyone watched the unknown vessel with bated breath. It was like… like nothing any of them had ever seen before, really.
The closest analogy would have been an old-fashioned sailing boat… or rather the first, experimental solar sailers. It was made of some pale blue metal, streamlined, with some long, narrow extensions on the bug that might or might not have been weapons. The heck swept in elegant arches upward and downward, like the hypothetical sails and keel of a sailing boat… a fairly futuristic version of it.
Two long, narrow tubes ran in the middle of it, from heck to bug; all other parts seemed to be connected to those tubes by vertical struts. The whole… thing seemed to consist of artistically bent metal plates. There were no parts whatsoever that could have housed an actual crew – unless they were intelligent microbes or microscopic crystals that lived in the horizontal central tubes.
"No signs of organic life, Captain," Data reported.
"That doesn't mean nobody is home," Picard replied. "Open hailing frequencies, Mr Worf!"
"Hailing frequencies open, sir," the Klingon acknowledged.
Picard stood, tugged on his uniform tunic and stepped into the focus of the comm. system.
"Unknown vessel, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard from the Federation starship Enterprise," he said formally. "Do you require assistance?"
There was no answer. The Bridge crew exchanged uneasy looks.
"No reply, sir," the Klingon reported, somewhat unnecessarily.
Picard raised an eyebrow. "Nothing?"
"Nothing, sir," Data assured him. "No change in its speed or direction, either."
"This could be an ambush," Worf frowned.
"Or the danger Commodore Norsen indicated," Picard said grimly. "Raise shields. Aim photon torpedoes. I'm not taking any risks."
"Shields at one hundred per cent," Worf reported.
"Torpedoes armed and ready," Ensign Nagel at Tactical added crisply.
"Red Alert," Riker ordered and the klaxons began to howl anew. "What else have we got in the neighbourhood?"
"No other vessels of any kind within two parsecs," Wesley said.
In the meantime the alien vessel had caught up with them, its eerie, sweeping lines filling the main screen. It seemed completely unblemished, as far as they could tell.
"It's beautiful!" LaForge breathed with the admiration only an engineer could feel at the sight of a truly masterful piece of machinery.
"No battle damage," Picard stated.
"Not that we could tell anyway," LaForge agreed. "It appears to be in perfect order.
"And no life signs," Picard said slowly.
"No life signs," Data assured.
Picard turned to Riker. "Can we board it, Will?"
"No, sir," LaForge answered before Riker could have. "The vessel has an energy shield of previously unknown configuration. It will take time to adapt our transporter beam to get through it… time that we don't have."
"Why not?" Riker asked.
"Because it is faster than we are and it will be out of range before we'd have modified the transporter beam," LaForge told him.
Picard turned to Wesley Crusher. "Ensign, can you extrapolate the vessel's direction from its current course and tell us what its heading is?"
The young man nodded confidently.
"Of course, Captain," he made a few calculations with the help of the navigations computer; then he looked up in worry. "Sir, it's heading directly to Bynax II!"
"Merde!" It was a rare thing that Picard swore, and only ever in French, but it still shocked his crew as it was always the sign of serious trouble. "Mr LaForge, is there any way to give us more speed? I'd like to get to Bynax II before that thing out there."
LaForge shook his head in regret. "We're already at maximum Warp, sir. Any more and we'd melt the Warp core. In fact, we'll have to slow down to Warp 9.3 within the next five hours. We've been travelling at Warp 9.6 for a full shift; we can't keep up doing so for more than twelve hours altogether without over-extending the Warp engines."
"What about the Cairo?" Riker asked. "Could she reach Bynax II before us?"
"She might," Geordi said thoughtfully. "She's a Bluebird-class long-range courier ship, built for speed more than anything else. Her normal cruising speed is Warp 9.5, which she can keep up for twenty-four hours, but her emergency speed is Warp 9.982 – for twelve hours, at least."
Worf shook his head. "She might get there before us, but she'd be of little help against… that there," he gestured towards the main viewer, on which the alien ship… artefact… whatever was slowly getting smaller as it passed them.
"Is the Cairo armed at all?" Riker asked.
"Class 9 defensive only," Data answered promptly. "Mark XII phaser arrays, a photon complement of twenty, standard DEA auto-modulation regenerative shields and ablative hull armoury." He paused, and then turned to Picard. "Captain, perhaps a warning would not be amiss."
Picard nodded. "Agreed. The Cairo needs to know what's heading towards them. Send them a warning, Mr Worf, and instruct them not to engage the alien ship, unless it's absolutely inevitable. They wouldn't stand the chance."
"Aye, sir," the Klingon was already composing the message and reported in two minutes that it had been sent.
"Commander Ford from the Cairo acknowledged your instructions, sir," he added. "They will wait for us near Bynax II."
"Thank you, Mr Worf."
"What now?" Riker asked.
"Now we wait," Picard answered calmly, "and spare whatever energy we can to feed it to the Warp engines. I have the feeling that speed is the main issue here."
~TBC~