Note: If anyone could tell me how to get HTML to work for my story, I'd be grateful. It looks fine on my computer but when I upload, it turns into garbage. All my tags end up looking like the following: i Ugh. If it makes any difference, I've got XP and use Notepad to write. Anyhow, now that you've read that, back to the story!
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Space-time is like a river. Flowing, carrying things in the current. Sometimes these things collide, break apart. Somtimes they are torn apart by the current itself. Some are claimed by those whirlpools known as black holes. But many head downstream, largely somewhat unaffected by the maelstrom around them, unable to control where they go and when. Unless that thing happens to be a starship, capable of setting it's own destiny.
One such ship, otherwise known as USS Enterprise NCC-1701, was patroling along the Romulan Neutral Zone in this particular chunk of space-time.
Kirk stared boredly at the viewscreen, deciding that this had to be the most uninteresting patrol he'd ever been on. Usually, there was the excitement of at least one Romulan ship challenging their right to be there. They knew very well that the Enterprise had every right to be there as long as it stayed on it's side of the Zone, so there was no shooting. Still, it was a diversion from the tedium of doing nothing else. But now, two weeks worth of patrols and all was quiet.
"Captain, I'm receiving a recorded message from Starbase 24." said Uhura, breaking the relative silence on the bridge and nearly making Kirk jump in the process. Two weeks of nothing will do that to a man's nerves.
Kirk was glad for the break in monotony, however slight, "On screen, Lieutenant."
Uhura's fingers ran over her console and the starfield on the viewscreen was replaced with that of an Admiral sitting behind a desk. He began speaking, "Captain Kirk, we have just received a distress call from the freighter USS Cyclops in sector 0364xz.431b."
"Facinating." That, of course, came from Spock. The Admiral continued on, the recording unaware of the interruption, "We want you to go investigate and, if possible, recover the Cyclops. The Saratoga and Kasimar will be there to take your place in two days. They will provide backup if necessary. You are to leave your position immediately upon receiving this message. Admiral Fitzgerald out." The screen blanked out and returned to the original starfield view.
Uhura pressed her hand to the receiver in her ear, "Captain, coordinates for the last known position of the Cyclops are coming through now."
Kirk nodded, "Acknowledge receipt of the transmission and notify all senior staff there's to be a meeting in the briefing room in 20 minutes. Helm, set a course for those coordinates, warp 6."
As the crew moved to comply, they were completely unaware of what was lurking around the bend in that river known as space-time.
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Space-time is like a river. Flowing, carrying things in the current. Sometimes these things collide, break apart. Somtimes they are torn apart by the current itself. Some are claimed by those whirlpools known as black holes. But many head downstream, largely somewhat unaffected by the maelstrom around them, unable to control where they go and when. Unless that thing happens to be a starship, capable of setting it's own destiny.
One such ship, otherwise known as USS Enterprise NCC-1701, was patroling along the Romulan Neutral Zone in this particular chunk of space-time.
Kirk stared boredly at the viewscreen, deciding that this had to be the most uninteresting patrol he'd ever been on. Usually, there was the excitement of at least one Romulan ship challenging their right to be there. They knew very well that the Enterprise had every right to be there as long as it stayed on it's side of the Zone, so there was no shooting. Still, it was a diversion from the tedium of doing nothing else. But now, two weeks worth of patrols and all was quiet.
"Captain, I'm receiving a recorded message from Starbase 24." said Uhura, breaking the relative silence on the bridge and nearly making Kirk jump in the process. Two weeks of nothing will do that to a man's nerves.
Kirk was glad for the break in monotony, however slight, "On screen, Lieutenant."
Uhura's fingers ran over her console and the starfield on the viewscreen was replaced with that of an Admiral sitting behind a desk. He began speaking, "Captain Kirk, we have just received a distress call from the freighter USS Cyclops in sector 0364xz.431b."
"Facinating." That, of course, came from Spock. The Admiral continued on, the recording unaware of the interruption, "We want you to go investigate and, if possible, recover the Cyclops. The Saratoga and Kasimar will be there to take your place in two days. They will provide backup if necessary. You are to leave your position immediately upon receiving this message. Admiral Fitzgerald out." The screen blanked out and returned to the original starfield view.
Uhura pressed her hand to the receiver in her ear, "Captain, coordinates for the last known position of the Cyclops are coming through now."
Kirk nodded, "Acknowledge receipt of the transmission and notify all senior staff there's to be a meeting in the briefing room in 20 minutes. Helm, set a course for those coordinates, warp 6."
As the crew moved to comply, they were completely unaware of what was lurking around the bend in that river known as space-time.