Star Trek: Maximillian
BEYOND THE FINAL FRONTIER
Chapter Seven
R E D A L E R T
Written by Chris Stephenson
Editors Note: This story is a serial novel, taking place about 3 years ago, using characters that served on the Maximillian at that point in time. New chapters can be found monthly in "The Mighty Max" and online at http://www.maximillian.org. Past chapters can also be found at Maximillian.org.
What has come before…
An Observatory has been destroyed by an object yet unknown to the Federation, and it has began a long journey to the heart of the Alpha Quadrant. The U.S.S. Maximillian, weary from a trying mission in the Menkare Expanse, and with an untested Captain, is the sole survivor of a small task force organized to halt the invasion, and has been charged with accompanying the ship to it's final destination, which now appears to be deep in Gorn space, following a small probe launched shortly before it's owner was destroyed…
But Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade has a plan, but one that he must be a part of, for reasons only he knows…
The Outermost Gorn defenses, sadly, did not hold up for very long.
Despite their outward appearances, the Gorn mostly tend to guard their own borders, not wishing to conquer other civilizations, nor to join with them. It was something of a surprise that the Gorn ship had ever agreed to join in the short-lived alliance in the first place, and now it seemed to be a drastic mistake. The probe, sent out by the ship mere seconds before it's destruction, had went right for the direction of Gorn space; right in the direction of it's homeworld. It was a simple matter for the crystal shaped vessel to follow.
The defenses, such as they were, as the Gorn were easily overlooked by any space-faring race that were eager for conquest, consisted of a few well-past their time vessels, captained by disgraced leaders who should have retired long ago, and a small minefield. None of which did any damage to the intruding ship, which simply destroyed the attacking ships, and went on it's way, continuing it's voyage to the inner reaches of Gorn space.
The one ship that had survived the brief alliance of Klingons, Gorn, and Federation followed closely behind, having been tasked by the unseen leader of the vessel to be merely an observer, to see what would happen if anyone dared oppose it's grand plan, which at this point was unknown. All that was known was that it was originally headed straight for Sector 001, for an apparent meeting at Earth. And as had been seen with other attacking cultures throughout the years, the Xindi, the Breen, The Borg…that was never a good thing to have happen.
The U.S.S. Maximillian, housing possibly the most eclectic mix of races in all of Starfleet, looked silent and sleeping from the exterior of the vessel. But on the inside, it was a different story. Holding it off as long as she possibly could, Captain Septaric finally called for the red alert signal as they entered Gorn space, now knowing that there was no way a fight could be avoided, though she still hoped for peace, however it could be possible. Her brother, First Officer Kragnar, did not share her opinions of peace. A true Klingon warrior, he could not stomach the past destruction this mysterious vessel had caused. All the Klingon bloodlines ended for no apparent reason, to say nothing of the other honorable beings that had died for no purpose, only seemingly to satisfy an unquenchable bloodlust of an unseen adversary. It made Kragnar's own blood boil just thinking of it. The only thing that seemed to satisfy him, at least for the moment, was that soon, his dear sister would see the folly of her ways. And then glorious conquest would be had.
They occupied the bridge, occupied in a pulsing glow of red, and accompanied by the remainder of the bridge crew, Lieutenant Commander Tamak, a former Captain, who was head of Security, and Lieutenant Kelvok, a Vulcan along with Tamak, head of Science. Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade, an Android but not of the Soong variety, chief of Operations, stood, attempting to improve the efficiency of "The Mighty Max's" warpfield, in case of a need for a quick escape. He had been confined to quarters, but Captain Septaric needed him to come to the bridge for a moment, and his return had been forgotten. But his mind was also seething with a new anger, and of regret for a lost opportunity. And suddenly, of new plans forming. Suddenly all his power was focused on making a new opportunity for himself. He allowed a small smile as he realized that it would be simple, especially during this time of stress.
Chief Engineer Amy Armstrong Thomas was working alongside Critch, but did not notice his hesitation, so engrossed in her own work. She was stressed, and not a little worried. She was young, and though she had witnessed not a few battles with the Maximillian, it always got her brain working and her heart pounding.
It wasn't just officers on the ship. So great was the apparent need that the three Admirals most often identified with the ship had accompanied it on it's mission. Admiral Robert Lyon, from Earth, stood gazing over the ship, still halfway considering it to be his ship, though the last time a Maximillian had been truly his, it had been lost. He looked at the Captain's chair with a twinge of regret, knowing deep in his heart that Captain Septaric was too inexperienced to be able to command a ship of this size. The Sovereign vessels were Starfleet's flagships! An untested Captain should never have been allowed to take this job! Not that he didn't respect her abilities, or her drive. But this was beyond her…beyond any of them.
Admiral Turok T'Kill, whose main job so far had been to keep his fellow Errsedorian Mercury-based Admiral Blobbin in line, understood the strife that was occurring within his oldest friend. But he knew the chain of command must be followed, to whatever end. A Romulan, which was a rare thing among the fleet, he knew better than most what could happen when anarchy reigned.
Blobbin didn't much like Red alerts. Though he didn't dislike battle, anything that gave him the excuse to march, or pudge, as the case may be, headlong into a melee, Mercury-formed sword in hand was okay with him, he didn't like the red shined off his silver form. And no matter with color he morphed into, the colors still weren't coming off quite right. He decided to lighten the mood, and morphed his head to something comparable to an old police light, a spinning red and blue light, and prepared to emit a shrill ambulance-style siren. As his mouth moved, T'kill covered it quickly with a hand. In response, Blobbin formed several mouths, and continued, until Lyon held up a hand. Blobbin stopped, dejected again. What was it with these people, anyway? A mood lightening is exactly what's called for in these stressful situations!
T'Kill glanced between the other two Admirals, and wondered why Blobbin aggravated him so much, why his commands were simply suggestions, and why Lyon's orders were to be followed quickly. Unknown to T'Kill, Lyon knew Blobbin's one weakness, one fear, and one that Lyon was not afraid to use at any time.
Promotion.
As the command structure watched nervously the crystalline form on the screen, their expressions ranged from worry to anger to hope to despair. All of them focused on this one, possibly final adventure. None of them noticing as Critch Starblade slipped out of the room into the adjacent turbolift, commanding it to his level. He had to make one last check before he could put his plans into motion. He had to be sure…
It was roughly fifteen minutes before anyone noticed Critch's departure, and even then it wasn't taken with any great emergency or panic. It was assumed that he had returned to his quarters, where Admiral Lyon had ordered him. There was still about ten minutes before the ship would reach the Gorn homeworld, before the largest part of the Gorn fleet would engage the seemingly indestructible ship in defense of their home. Amy looked up from her console, as it went into auto mode, finishing up her work for her. As it would take a few moments for it to complete, she asked for and received permission to check on Critch. As she left, Admiral Lyon felt regret that Critch would not have a chance to find out what he had been searching for all this time. It was maddening, in a way. But he supposed that would keep his mind active, and would serve him well in his later career. Assuming, of course, any of them survived this.
The security officers that were undertaking the risky mission of beaming over to the other ship were all supposed to have gathered three minutes before, but the young ensign, who was cursing himself for having volunteered for this mission, considering that his first choice when he joined the ship was Operations. But, he also wanted to help the ship, so Security was a good secondary choice for now. He wasn't planning on any of this, and had managed to have several problems with the protective outfit that he had been assigned. But he knew that they were waiting. Korjac, the Klingon in charge of the "Rapid Response unit", wasn't too happy about this. But there was time. As he ran through the corridor, he suddenly realized there was a figure in front of him. He couldn't make out the face, only that there seemed to be something pointing in his direction. Then a bright light, and he couldn't make out anything at all.
It was curious that there was no answer at Critch's door, Amy thought to herself. He usually was happy to see guests, even if he was in a bad mood. Something was definitely bothering him. She decided to ignore protocol, and follow a sinking feeling that Critch was in trouble, or worse. She used her Engineering override, and entered the room. The lights were off, and Critch wasn't home. A quick scan around the room revealed only one thing out of place. A single padd, laying on his bed. She went to it, picking it up, reading it over quickly. The padd had on it details of Critch's original discovery, by the U.S.S. Asimov, a science ship, amongst wreckage of an unknown starship, a ship so destroyed that they still had not been unable to identify it to this day. There were diagrams of the ship, and she looked over them, and instantly she knew. The ship on the viewscreen. The ship that had destroyed the Observatory, the Klingons, the Gorn, the ship they had been following…and the ship that had brought Critch to this quadrant.
They were the same ship.
Suddenly in a panic, she ran out of the room, trying to tap her commbadge quickly. She knew it was too late, he'd have thought of that. Indeed, entering Critch's room had seemed to trigger some kind of silent, unseen Electromagnetic pulse that had knocked out the electronics throughout this deck, as she found out quickly when all she heard was static over the intercom. And all she saw was darkness. Thinking quickly, she overrode a nearby duct, and climbed inside.
In the unconscious ensign's outfit, a little snug but none the worse for wear, he quickly arrived at the transporter room, marching in. He nodded at the seething Klingon, his own helmet open. Korjak muttered a "I'll deal with you later" then looked at the transporter chief.
Amy Armstrong Thomas dove out of the duct, racing down the hall, hoping desperately that she wasn't too late. She ran into the transporter room just as Korjak growled, "Energize". As they beamed out, Amy yelled, "Critch!" The android in Ensign's clothes looked at her, staring, as they disappeared in a blaze of blue and stars.
BEYOND THE FINAL FRONTIER
Chapter Seven
R E D A L E R T
Written by Chris Stephenson
Editors Note: This story is a serial novel, taking place about 3 years ago, using characters that served on the Maximillian at that point in time. New chapters can be found monthly in "The Mighty Max" and online at http://www.maximillian.org. Past chapters can also be found at Maximillian.org.
What has come before…
An Observatory has been destroyed by an object yet unknown to the Federation, and it has began a long journey to the heart of the Alpha Quadrant. The U.S.S. Maximillian, weary from a trying mission in the Menkare Expanse, and with an untested Captain, is the sole survivor of a small task force organized to halt the invasion, and has been charged with accompanying the ship to it's final destination, which now appears to be deep in Gorn space, following a small probe launched shortly before it's owner was destroyed…
But Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade has a plan, but one that he must be a part of, for reasons only he knows…
The Outermost Gorn defenses, sadly, did not hold up for very long.
Despite their outward appearances, the Gorn mostly tend to guard their own borders, not wishing to conquer other civilizations, nor to join with them. It was something of a surprise that the Gorn ship had ever agreed to join in the short-lived alliance in the first place, and now it seemed to be a drastic mistake. The probe, sent out by the ship mere seconds before it's destruction, had went right for the direction of Gorn space; right in the direction of it's homeworld. It was a simple matter for the crystal shaped vessel to follow.
The defenses, such as they were, as the Gorn were easily overlooked by any space-faring race that were eager for conquest, consisted of a few well-past their time vessels, captained by disgraced leaders who should have retired long ago, and a small minefield. None of which did any damage to the intruding ship, which simply destroyed the attacking ships, and went on it's way, continuing it's voyage to the inner reaches of Gorn space.
The one ship that had survived the brief alliance of Klingons, Gorn, and Federation followed closely behind, having been tasked by the unseen leader of the vessel to be merely an observer, to see what would happen if anyone dared oppose it's grand plan, which at this point was unknown. All that was known was that it was originally headed straight for Sector 001, for an apparent meeting at Earth. And as had been seen with other attacking cultures throughout the years, the Xindi, the Breen, The Borg…that was never a good thing to have happen.
The U.S.S. Maximillian, housing possibly the most eclectic mix of races in all of Starfleet, looked silent and sleeping from the exterior of the vessel. But on the inside, it was a different story. Holding it off as long as she possibly could, Captain Septaric finally called for the red alert signal as they entered Gorn space, now knowing that there was no way a fight could be avoided, though she still hoped for peace, however it could be possible. Her brother, First Officer Kragnar, did not share her opinions of peace. A true Klingon warrior, he could not stomach the past destruction this mysterious vessel had caused. All the Klingon bloodlines ended for no apparent reason, to say nothing of the other honorable beings that had died for no purpose, only seemingly to satisfy an unquenchable bloodlust of an unseen adversary. It made Kragnar's own blood boil just thinking of it. The only thing that seemed to satisfy him, at least for the moment, was that soon, his dear sister would see the folly of her ways. And then glorious conquest would be had.
They occupied the bridge, occupied in a pulsing glow of red, and accompanied by the remainder of the bridge crew, Lieutenant Commander Tamak, a former Captain, who was head of Security, and Lieutenant Kelvok, a Vulcan along with Tamak, head of Science. Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade, an Android but not of the Soong variety, chief of Operations, stood, attempting to improve the efficiency of "The Mighty Max's" warpfield, in case of a need for a quick escape. He had been confined to quarters, but Captain Septaric needed him to come to the bridge for a moment, and his return had been forgotten. But his mind was also seething with a new anger, and of regret for a lost opportunity. And suddenly, of new plans forming. Suddenly all his power was focused on making a new opportunity for himself. He allowed a small smile as he realized that it would be simple, especially during this time of stress.
Chief Engineer Amy Armstrong Thomas was working alongside Critch, but did not notice his hesitation, so engrossed in her own work. She was stressed, and not a little worried. She was young, and though she had witnessed not a few battles with the Maximillian, it always got her brain working and her heart pounding.
It wasn't just officers on the ship. So great was the apparent need that the three Admirals most often identified with the ship had accompanied it on it's mission. Admiral Robert Lyon, from Earth, stood gazing over the ship, still halfway considering it to be his ship, though the last time a Maximillian had been truly his, it had been lost. He looked at the Captain's chair with a twinge of regret, knowing deep in his heart that Captain Septaric was too inexperienced to be able to command a ship of this size. The Sovereign vessels were Starfleet's flagships! An untested Captain should never have been allowed to take this job! Not that he didn't respect her abilities, or her drive. But this was beyond her…beyond any of them.
Admiral Turok T'Kill, whose main job so far had been to keep his fellow Errsedorian Mercury-based Admiral Blobbin in line, understood the strife that was occurring within his oldest friend. But he knew the chain of command must be followed, to whatever end. A Romulan, which was a rare thing among the fleet, he knew better than most what could happen when anarchy reigned.
Blobbin didn't much like Red alerts. Though he didn't dislike battle, anything that gave him the excuse to march, or pudge, as the case may be, headlong into a melee, Mercury-formed sword in hand was okay with him, he didn't like the red shined off his silver form. And no matter with color he morphed into, the colors still weren't coming off quite right. He decided to lighten the mood, and morphed his head to something comparable to an old police light, a spinning red and blue light, and prepared to emit a shrill ambulance-style siren. As his mouth moved, T'kill covered it quickly with a hand. In response, Blobbin formed several mouths, and continued, until Lyon held up a hand. Blobbin stopped, dejected again. What was it with these people, anyway? A mood lightening is exactly what's called for in these stressful situations!
T'Kill glanced between the other two Admirals, and wondered why Blobbin aggravated him so much, why his commands were simply suggestions, and why Lyon's orders were to be followed quickly. Unknown to T'Kill, Lyon knew Blobbin's one weakness, one fear, and one that Lyon was not afraid to use at any time.
Promotion.
As the command structure watched nervously the crystalline form on the screen, their expressions ranged from worry to anger to hope to despair. All of them focused on this one, possibly final adventure. None of them noticing as Critch Starblade slipped out of the room into the adjacent turbolift, commanding it to his level. He had to make one last check before he could put his plans into motion. He had to be sure…
It was roughly fifteen minutes before anyone noticed Critch's departure, and even then it wasn't taken with any great emergency or panic. It was assumed that he had returned to his quarters, where Admiral Lyon had ordered him. There was still about ten minutes before the ship would reach the Gorn homeworld, before the largest part of the Gorn fleet would engage the seemingly indestructible ship in defense of their home. Amy looked up from her console, as it went into auto mode, finishing up her work for her. As it would take a few moments for it to complete, she asked for and received permission to check on Critch. As she left, Admiral Lyon felt regret that Critch would not have a chance to find out what he had been searching for all this time. It was maddening, in a way. But he supposed that would keep his mind active, and would serve him well in his later career. Assuming, of course, any of them survived this.
The security officers that were undertaking the risky mission of beaming over to the other ship were all supposed to have gathered three minutes before, but the young ensign, who was cursing himself for having volunteered for this mission, considering that his first choice when he joined the ship was Operations. But, he also wanted to help the ship, so Security was a good secondary choice for now. He wasn't planning on any of this, and had managed to have several problems with the protective outfit that he had been assigned. But he knew that they were waiting. Korjac, the Klingon in charge of the "Rapid Response unit", wasn't too happy about this. But there was time. As he ran through the corridor, he suddenly realized there was a figure in front of him. He couldn't make out the face, only that there seemed to be something pointing in his direction. Then a bright light, and he couldn't make out anything at all.
It was curious that there was no answer at Critch's door, Amy thought to herself. He usually was happy to see guests, even if he was in a bad mood. Something was definitely bothering him. She decided to ignore protocol, and follow a sinking feeling that Critch was in trouble, or worse. She used her Engineering override, and entered the room. The lights were off, and Critch wasn't home. A quick scan around the room revealed only one thing out of place. A single padd, laying on his bed. She went to it, picking it up, reading it over quickly. The padd had on it details of Critch's original discovery, by the U.S.S. Asimov, a science ship, amongst wreckage of an unknown starship, a ship so destroyed that they still had not been unable to identify it to this day. There were diagrams of the ship, and she looked over them, and instantly she knew. The ship on the viewscreen. The ship that had destroyed the Observatory, the Klingons, the Gorn, the ship they had been following…and the ship that had brought Critch to this quadrant.
They were the same ship.
Suddenly in a panic, she ran out of the room, trying to tap her commbadge quickly. She knew it was too late, he'd have thought of that. Indeed, entering Critch's room had seemed to trigger some kind of silent, unseen Electromagnetic pulse that had knocked out the electronics throughout this deck, as she found out quickly when all she heard was static over the intercom. And all she saw was darkness. Thinking quickly, she overrode a nearby duct, and climbed inside.
In the unconscious ensign's outfit, a little snug but none the worse for wear, he quickly arrived at the transporter room, marching in. He nodded at the seething Klingon, his own helmet open. Korjak muttered a "I'll deal with you later" then looked at the transporter chief.
Amy Armstrong Thomas dove out of the duct, racing down the hall, hoping desperately that she wasn't too late. She ran into the transporter room just as Korjak growled, "Energize". As they beamed out, Amy yelled, "Critch!" The android in Ensign's clothes looked at her, staring, as they disappeared in a blaze of blue and stars.
