Star Trek:
Maximillian
BEYOND THE FINAL FRONTIER
Chapter Ten
R E V E N G E
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 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. He has disguised himself and snuck aboard a complicated away mission to the craft, and has met up with the Rapid Response team on board.
As the crystal vessel attacks the last Gorn defenses, Admiral Lyon removes the Maximillian from Captain Septaric's control. He must now lead the Maximillian to victory, or defeat…
Admiral Lyon stood alone in the Captain's ready room, adjacent to the bridge. He frowned, looking around, calming down. He suddenly felt a twinge of dread at the thought of returning to the bridge, of taking the command seat, of attempting to reverse decisions that never should have been made.
He did not blame Captain Septaric. None of this was her fault. Indeed there was nothing that any member of the Maximillian could have done to salvage this. He knew that the blame could only rest with one man.
The blame was his, and his alone.
He shook off his dread. He was Admiral Robert S. Lyon. The highest ranked Admiral in all of Starfleet. He had served aboard many ships named Maximillian, had faced and outwitted threats too numerous to mention. In addition, he had successfully negoiated first contact situations too many times to count, often diffusing issues that threatened entire systems, to say nothing of the Maximillian itself.
He was the great Admiral Lyon, a name that echoed through history as one of the greats of Starfleet. And now, he would prove his ability.
As the ship shook from a nearby blast, he marched with all the dignitary and confidence he could muster out of the ready room, facing the music.
A Gorn battlecruiser, the last vessel of it's class remaining after the massacre, roared overhead, vibrations from it's proximity to the crystal-shaped ship reverberating throughout the vast interior of the apparently deserted ship. For Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade and the remaining members of Korjac's Rapid Response team, it was anything but empty.
Korjac let a tooth-filled growl eminate from his thick Klingon throat.
"Fan out, standard search spread." The team started to move apart. "Teams of two..." He grunted at Critch. "You're with me." Cradling a ready phaser rifle, Critch nodded, following him closely, scanning around with his superior vision. He switched through his varied visual operations, checking for heat signatures and life signs. He knew he would succeed where the rest of the away team had failed. He was no normal human, or even Klingon. He was an Android. He was superior.
But if he had superior eyes in the back of his head, he would have been able to see behind him, slightly above and to the left, and found what he was searching for. The humanoid figure moved swiftly across the grated catwalk. As it moved, it cast a shadow upon two other members of the team. They stopped, holding still for a beat, and then spun around to face the monster, rifles at the ready. They aimed and faced...
Nothing. Not a soul, nothing to have warranted their sudden movements. They breathed unsteadily, and one tapped her commbadge.
"Shadow movement in my sector, sir."
"Stay alert, Martinez. All units to her area."
As the team began to move, almost as one, to the location of their comrade, a dark figure pounced upon Martinez, knocking her to the floor. As she tried to regain her senses, to fight back, the other half of the pair brought his rifle to bear, and fired a full-power blast into the back of the humanoid. It spun, grabbing the throat of the young man, lifting him into the air. As he struggled, he looked into the shadowed face of the humanoid, and a slight look of realization came to his face, even as his neck was snapped.
The team advanced, witnessing the last moments of Ensign Robert Paulson. He fell, crumpling, to the hard grated floor of this strange ship. They could not make out the look of the humanoid through the dark, and dust clouds that had risen from it's landing. Even Critch could not see through the strange particles. They could only see that it was human-like, two arms and legs and a similar body type. Korjac grimaced at the sight of another one of his team dying, even as he watched the humanoid move back towards Lieutenant Martinez.
"Open fire!" Korjac yelled loudly, carelessly, and the remaining team walked slowly at the creature, firing their phaser rifles quickly.
The shots hit their mark, most of them anyway, but if it damaged the humanoid, it did not show it. Not stepping back for a moment, it leaped high into the air, overhead and then behind the team, grabbing the two response team members that were to the side of Korjac and Critch , and smashing them together with all it's might. Critch watched in horror as the bodies hit the floor, and he came to a sick realization, that this may be beyond any of them…any of them.
Lieutenant Martinez had risen, and was firing blindly, angrily into the creature. It did not move towards her, only cocking it's head slightly. Critch, firing and moving closer, still could not see through the dim light clearly. He moved alongside Korjac, attempting to cut off the humanoid from advancing on Martinez.
Their plan failed even as it began. The humanoid wrenched free a metallic pole, glanced at it, then threw it with laser precision and deadly accuracy. The pole hit and stabbed through Martinez, and she fell to the floor with a choke, her gun firing now uselessly into the air.
The humanoid turned to Critch and Korjac, and stepped forward. Apparently it was having trouble seeing them as well. Critch decided to use this to their advantage, and threw caution to the wind. He quickly moved to the creature, ready to attack. The creature aimed and fired a punch at Critch, and with quick reflexes Critch caught the punch. He held the arm for a moment, trying to shove it back, or even break it, but he found he could not. The humanoid was as powerful as he was.
The humanoid did not make any motion, even as Korjac moved behind him. Instead he just stared at Critch. A hole seemed to open through the dust particles just then, and Critch could see the eyes of his enemy. Familiar eyes…
Korjac broke the moment by firing point blank into the humanoid's neck. The bolt seemed to be absorbed by the humanoid, and he flailed an arm back, knocking Korjac to the side. Critch was momentarily distracted, and the humanoid grabbed Critch, tossing him next to Korjac, near a dark catwalk. Critch rose slowly, weighing his options, and choosing the most obvious.
Korjac lay, broken, bleeding, beaten. But not dead, not destroyed. Not yet. His armor broken, his commbadge snapped in two, He still attempted to rise. Critch put a hand on his chest, firmly yet harmlessly holding him down.
"Today is not a good day to die." Critch said, ignoring the humanoid's movements toward Martinez's body, ignoring it reaching to remove the pole. He appraised the broken commbadge, and tapped his own. "Starblade to Maximillian. Beam me up." He tossed the commbadge as the vessel shook around him, and as the Maximillian's signal locked on to the commbadge, it landed on Korjac. He looked at Critch with a fire in his eyes as he disappeared in blue stars.
Critch rose slowly, feeling no pain due to the absence of anything that could feel pain, yet still conscious of bruising on his legs. He focused on his enemy, his nemesis, this being that seemed to only exist to kill and destroy.
The humanoid had pulled free the bloody pole, and faced Critch. It held his stance, as if staring him down, then threw the pole, just as it had done before. But this time, the outcome was unexpected. Critch grabbed the pole out of midair, using the momentum to spin around and fire it right back where it came from. Surprised, the humanoid was not able to do as Critch had done, and was speared through the lower stomach. This did get a reaction, as a guttural, yet human yelp emanated from the creature. It moved back, into the shadows, disappearing into the ship, as Critch moved forward, riding an artificial wave of adrenaline. As he marched, he noticed blood on the floor, at least what looked like blood. A quick scan revealed metallic particles, and many parts that were unknown. He decided to consider it blood, because it comforted him. If it could bleed, he could kill it. He moved towards the shadows where the humanoid had disappeared into, and spoke, somewhat to himself.
"Just you and me now."
"Starblade to Maximillian, beam me up." As Lyon re-entered the bridge, he heard the call. A moment of anger crossed his face, as he wondered why they should risk bringing Lieutenant Commander Starblade back, considering it was his own doings that had caused his current situation. He shook off that thought. He was now in command of this vessel, and Starblade was a member of his crew. All would and must be sacrificed for his crew. For this ship.
"Bring him back!" He barked, and heads throughout the bridge snapped to look at him. Their opinions buried deep, they executed the orders as Lyon moved towards the…his chair. He glanced, noticing Captain Septaric had not left the bridge, as he had half-expected. Instead she was showing her true spirit, something Lyon supposed was due to her Klingon heritage. She would stand and fight, not for her Admiral, but for the Maximillian itself. She was silent too, though a look of suprising anger and hatred, emotions that he never associated with the woman, shown in her looks and gestures. She reluctantly moved from the chair, and whispered as she passed him, "They don't know." She then moved to the operations panels, gazing over the nervous young ensign, glancing at the statistics coming in. She spoke to Lyon without looking at him, and also to the computer, and the crew. "Transfer Command to Admiral Robert Lyon, Authorization Septaric 2-04" She turned and stared at him. "The ship is yours, Admiral."
The crew was surprised, but they did not show it. The tension was building, however, the stress of being amidst the battle and the bridge conditions. Admiral T'Kill approached Lyon's side, speaking softly. "Are you out of your human mind?"
"I know what I'm doing, Turock."
"Here we go again." Blobbin said, as Turock returned to his side, choosing not to argue with Lyon. Not here, not now. "Batten down the hatches, Rob's going to try and lose another ship."
"Status, Captain?" Lyon said loudly, though he could see what was happening by merely gazing at the viewscreen. The object had now moved close to the homeworld, not quite entering the atmosphere yet, and had slowed, mopping up what little resistance remained.
"The vessel has slowed, and looks to be preparing to enter the atmosphere. Kragnar is in Engineering."
He nodded. "Fine. We strike. Break off escort, charge all phaser banks and prepare the torpedoes." He glanced at Blobbin, then continued. "Prepare the Erresdorian shielding and torpedoes."
Even Blobbin was surprised, though a tooth-filled grin spread over his face. He let out a war-whoop, and his body changed into the colors of a Indian brave uniform, complete with three bright purple feathers over his head. "GERANIMO!" He yelled, and quickly moved to a console, forming hands so he could input the correct commands.
Turock was less impressed, and lost his temper for a quick moment. "You can't! They've been barely tested, and never in a battle situation! We have no idea if it'll have any effect, if it'll even protect the Max!"
Blobbin didn't turn from where he was hurriedly punching the screen in front of him, assisted by a security officer. "Of course it'll work! The calculations came from my mind, you know." He formed a third arm with hand, and pointed at his head as he said this.
Turock grimaced. "Yeah, consider the source!"
"ADMIRAL!" Lyon bellowed, and Turock quieted quickly. "I have made my decision. We have stood by long enough, we cannot risk this planet's destruction, risk failure. The object must be stopped, and it must be stopped here. We must use everything at our disposal to succeed."
"Destruction?" Captain Septaric turned, giving up all pretense of not listening to the conversation. "You think it can destroy…"
"The Gorn Homeworld, Captain? I know it will. It's what it's here to do. Destroy. Kill every life in this universe, and beyond."
"How do you know? How can you possibly know this?"
Lyon was silent a moment, delicately preparing his answer. "Because I know. And I know what I'm here to do, what we're all here to do. So lets do it." He glanced up at the viewscreen, glanced at the object which was now slowly sinking into the planet's atmosphere. "Pursuit course, helm. Prepare a spread of Quantum Torpedoes at my mark, to detonate when I give the word. Go."
The great ship Maximillian gained momentum, and followed the object into the clouds, soaring as the sky rushed by it, as the fires attempted to ignite on it's hull from the heat shield. A ship overdue for an overhaul, A displaced Captain, a worn down crew, and a vengeful Admiral all dove towards the planets surface with the same drive and purpose. The torpedoes launched, and the battle began.
Critch walked across the catwalk, and gazed below him. It seemingly was a sort of bridge, connecting portions of this ship. Below him was nothing, at least that's what the looks of it were. His vision, even zoomed in, could only make out the barest glimpses of other catwalks, other walkways, and other devices that he could only begin to guess their meaning and purpose. The bridge went on for a long while, a half-mile if his calculations were correct, but Critch knew the creature had come this way. He was caught in a game now, he knew it, but he knew it was a game he could win. He had hurt the humanoid, chasing it off. He should be cautious, he knew. The old adage came to his mind, nothing being more dangerous than a wounded animal. And that's what this was, an animal, feeding off of death and destruction like it was a full-course meal. He glanced up, and saw clouds rushing by. He couldn't guess the purpose of the object, which now seemed to be a machine, self running and correcting. He put it out of his mind. He had to focus on the task at hand.
As he moved forward, he found his first clue that things were not as they seemed. The metal pole lay in the middle of the walk, glistening with a silver ooze on one end. The humanoid had recovered, it appeared. As he picked up the pole, investigating and scanning it, he was interrupted by a voice, the same voice that they had all heard echoing through the ship before. The voice of the humanoid.
"YOU HAVE COME" It spoke, loudly echoing off the unseen walls of the vessel. Critch shook off the noise.
"I'VE COME FOR YOU! SHOW YOURSELF, MURDERER."
"YOU HAVE INVADED MY VESSEL."
"AND YOU'VE INVADED MY UNIVERSE!"
"YOUR…" The voice stopped, sounding shaken, even a bit confused. "YOU DON'T REMEMBER."
Critch stopped, and his voice was no more than a whisper. "Remember what?" He tried to track down the owner of the voice, tried to get back to a position where he held the advantage, but was distracted by a reflection off of a beam, a blueish star, growing larger…
The torpedo came through the ship, just as the weapons had done before. However this time was different. As it rushed overhead and past Critch, it suddenly burst. Critch was blinded for an instant, followed by a rush of fire and power, surging through the ship. Critch was sent over the side of the catwalk, grasping a side, hanging on with one hand for his life. The Quantum torpedo had burst in a perfect spot, not seriously damaging anything, due to the different frequencies. Critch silently gave thanks for that fact, then cursed himself for not simply beaming in a torpedo, thereby changing the frequency of the torpedo, allowing it to be a part of this ship, and blowing it apart that way. He attempted to pull himself up, when he saw the legs of the humanoid above him, who had like Critch and the ship, though the sudden vibrations had caused many sparks and loose wiring, survived no worse for wear. Critch's eyes scanned upward, and stopped at the face. He blinked. The humanoid let a smile creep across his own face. Critch shook his head. It couldn't be possible…
The humanoid was, in every way and every look, identical to Critch Starblade.
The doppelganger chuckled a bit to himself, stared down, and offered a hand of assistance.
Thoughts flooded Critch's mind, thoughts of what this could mean, of what this must mean, of what he could and could not do next. He chose what he couldn't.
The doppelganger simply said, quietly. "Welcome home."
Critch let go of the grating, and dropped into the darkness below.
"Fire! Fire at Will!"
With Admiral Lyon's command, the torpedo spread shot out of the launchers and encircled the object.
"Detonate!" The torpedoes exploded in a ball of blue blaze. The ship seemed to ripple with the shockwaves, and slowed more.
Those on the ground could not forget the sight. The Crystal ship exploding out of the clouds, a Sovereign-Class vessel hot on the object's tail. They flew close to the ground, as close as they dared, above the mountains and forests, and the Maximillian's hull markings, were it to slow down enough, could be plainly read from the surface. As the object flew, a section of plating on it's backside facing the Maximillian began to shine brightly. As the smoke gushed of the superheated Max, fresh from the heat shield, Admiral Lyon shouted, "Brace yourselves!"
The object fired a single beam from it's rear, striking the Maximillian on it's bow. The command staff flew from their positions, Blobbin in the rear shouting, "GAH! I'm buckling, Admiral!", his form bouncing around the bridge. "STATUS!" Lyon yelled from the floor.
"SHIELDS HOLDING! DOWN TO 75%"
The object, nonplussed with the Maximillian's resistance to the weapon that had destroyed everything it had previously come into contact with, continued to fire. Again, and again, at the same spot it had struck. At the same time, there seemed to be motion at the bottom spire of the object. Panels slid as it moved, and a sharp yellow beam erupted out of the newly created hole. It struck the planet's surface, digging deep into it, burning instantly through rock and rubble.
As the ship shook, and sparks began to rain down upon them, the crew of the Maximillian stood defiant to the last. "KEEP FIRING!" Lyon ordered his beleaguered crew, even as he punched the panel himself, having moved towards a control console, not satisfied with the smaller version on his chair. Septaric, shaken, angry, yelled out across the bridge. "WE HAVE TO PULL BACK! SHIELDS ARE COLLAPSING!"
"WE CANNOT FALL BACK! NOT NOW, NOT EVER!" Lyon was lost in the moment, lost in the possibilities of destroying this thing. He was so close.
Turock yelled from where he was assisting Blobbin, "DO YOU WANT TO LOSE ANOTHER MAXIMILLIAN?"
It hit Lyon hard, the reminder of what had occurred the last time he had taken such a large part in the command of a starship. He had forgotten what it truly meant, forgotten in favor of a life in the Admiralty, a life behind a desk, directing wargames and fleet movements as though they were army soldiers in a backyard sandbox.
The final reminder came quickly. Captain Septaric had saw her console, had saw what was coming, knew the overload that Lyon was causing by endlessly firing would take out half the bridge if she didn't stop him. She knew what she had to do. Not for Lyon, not for anyone here, but for the Maximillian. Her first and only command. She rushed at Lyon, screaming, and before he could react, she shoved him out of the way, using every bit of her Klingon strength. As he flew to the floor, the console erupted with a powerful blast. The fire that seared forth caught Septaric's body. The console exploded, sending out a concussion wave that knocked the remaining members of the bridge crew to the ground. Septaric flew backwards, against the First Officer's chair.
Lyon moved to his feet, dreading, knowing, remembering, and wishing for a different outcome, ANY outcome but this. His wishes did not come true, as he saw the scarred and burned body of Captain S'Quid Tai Septaric. Dead.
Shaken, cold, shocked, Admiral Robert S. Lyon rose to his feet, unsteadily rocking as pieces of room collapsed in a corner. He rasped out a few words, too quiet to hear.
"Admiral…?" Commander Ayers asked, having regained her post in the Communications chair.
"I SAID FALL BACK!" He yelled, angrily, and sank into the Captain's chair. No. His chair.
The Maximillian pulled up, and was further damaged by the stress of exiting the planet's atmosphere so quickly. The beam from the object continued for another full minute, and if the object was concerned with the Maximillian, it made no move. Instead, it closed it's bottom panels once the beam ceased, and broke off from it's low orbit. It peeled into the atmosphere, much more gracefully than the Max, and moved past it, not even bothering to attack the smoking severely damaged vessel. As the ships moved away from the planet, the rut made by the beam began to glow with a bright yellow haze. Lava erupted from it, but soon even that was overshadowed by the light. The planet began to spin faster. Intense quakes rocked the entire globe. Beams of light began to break through the crust and the ground. The Gorn Homeworld spun and spun until it could spin no more. A bright flash of yellow light and fire flew from the planet, rocks and debris spreading through the once proud system. And after the light dissipated, nothing remained of the world.
Uncaring, unimpressed, and emotionless, the object moved into the void, silent, soulless, and disappeared.
HE KNEW.
The information coming in was off the charts, what little he could read as the light overshadowed everything else in the room. The Admiral had dropped to the floor, attempting to protect his vision. But the young Captain no longer cared. He felt fear, for once in his life, actual fear at what this other place was capable of, of what it had done before.
And now that they were aware of him, of the Federation, of all of this, he was afraid of what it would do again.
He thought quickly, as the panels and computers began exploding around him. He sent the destruct signal. He would later swear that he had not sent the probe in, that he had no control over it, and he would be absolved of any responsibility. But he knew the truth. He had to get close to the anomaly…closer to knowing more.
Half in and half out of the anomaly, the probe self-destructed. A bright flash took place, and then simply, everything was gone. There were no records remaining on the ship, every system and back-up system fried in the feedback. The only one who knew what could happen was Lyon.
And he knew that if anything was to happen, it would be his fault.
His responsibility.
And his alone.
Maximillian
BEYOND THE FINAL FRONTIER
Chapter Ten
R E V E N G E
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 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. He has disguised himself and snuck aboard a complicated away mission to the craft, and has met up with the Rapid Response team on board.
As the crystal vessel attacks the last Gorn defenses, Admiral Lyon removes the Maximillian from Captain Septaric's control. He must now lead the Maximillian to victory, or defeat…
Admiral Lyon stood alone in the Captain's ready room, adjacent to the bridge. He frowned, looking around, calming down. He suddenly felt a twinge of dread at the thought of returning to the bridge, of taking the command seat, of attempting to reverse decisions that never should have been made.
He did not blame Captain Septaric. None of this was her fault. Indeed there was nothing that any member of the Maximillian could have done to salvage this. He knew that the blame could only rest with one man.
The blame was his, and his alone.
He shook off his dread. He was Admiral Robert S. Lyon. The highest ranked Admiral in all of Starfleet. He had served aboard many ships named Maximillian, had faced and outwitted threats too numerous to mention. In addition, he had successfully negoiated first contact situations too many times to count, often diffusing issues that threatened entire systems, to say nothing of the Maximillian itself.
He was the great Admiral Lyon, a name that echoed through history as one of the greats of Starfleet. And now, he would prove his ability.
As the ship shook from a nearby blast, he marched with all the dignitary and confidence he could muster out of the ready room, facing the music.
A Gorn battlecruiser, the last vessel of it's class remaining after the massacre, roared overhead, vibrations from it's proximity to the crystal-shaped ship reverberating throughout the vast interior of the apparently deserted ship. For Lieutenant Commander Critch Starblade and the remaining members of Korjac's Rapid Response team, it was anything but empty.
Korjac let a tooth-filled growl eminate from his thick Klingon throat.
"Fan out, standard search spread." The team started to move apart. "Teams of two..." He grunted at Critch. "You're with me." Cradling a ready phaser rifle, Critch nodded, following him closely, scanning around with his superior vision. He switched through his varied visual operations, checking for heat signatures and life signs. He knew he would succeed where the rest of the away team had failed. He was no normal human, or even Klingon. He was an Android. He was superior.
But if he had superior eyes in the back of his head, he would have been able to see behind him, slightly above and to the left, and found what he was searching for. The humanoid figure moved swiftly across the grated catwalk. As it moved, it cast a shadow upon two other members of the team. They stopped, holding still for a beat, and then spun around to face the monster, rifles at the ready. They aimed and faced...
Nothing. Not a soul, nothing to have warranted their sudden movements. They breathed unsteadily, and one tapped her commbadge.
"Shadow movement in my sector, sir."
"Stay alert, Martinez. All units to her area."
As the team began to move, almost as one, to the location of their comrade, a dark figure pounced upon Martinez, knocking her to the floor. As she tried to regain her senses, to fight back, the other half of the pair brought his rifle to bear, and fired a full-power blast into the back of the humanoid. It spun, grabbing the throat of the young man, lifting him into the air. As he struggled, he looked into the shadowed face of the humanoid, and a slight look of realization came to his face, even as his neck was snapped.
The team advanced, witnessing the last moments of Ensign Robert Paulson. He fell, crumpling, to the hard grated floor of this strange ship. They could not make out the look of the humanoid through the dark, and dust clouds that had risen from it's landing. Even Critch could not see through the strange particles. They could only see that it was human-like, two arms and legs and a similar body type. Korjac grimaced at the sight of another one of his team dying, even as he watched the humanoid move back towards Lieutenant Martinez.
"Open fire!" Korjac yelled loudly, carelessly, and the remaining team walked slowly at the creature, firing their phaser rifles quickly.
The shots hit their mark, most of them anyway, but if it damaged the humanoid, it did not show it. Not stepping back for a moment, it leaped high into the air, overhead and then behind the team, grabbing the two response team members that were to the side of Korjac and Critch , and smashing them together with all it's might. Critch watched in horror as the bodies hit the floor, and he came to a sick realization, that this may be beyond any of them…any of them.
Lieutenant Martinez had risen, and was firing blindly, angrily into the creature. It did not move towards her, only cocking it's head slightly. Critch, firing and moving closer, still could not see through the dim light clearly. He moved alongside Korjac, attempting to cut off the humanoid from advancing on Martinez.
Their plan failed even as it began. The humanoid wrenched free a metallic pole, glanced at it, then threw it with laser precision and deadly accuracy. The pole hit and stabbed through Martinez, and she fell to the floor with a choke, her gun firing now uselessly into the air.
The humanoid turned to Critch and Korjac, and stepped forward. Apparently it was having trouble seeing them as well. Critch decided to use this to their advantage, and threw caution to the wind. He quickly moved to the creature, ready to attack. The creature aimed and fired a punch at Critch, and with quick reflexes Critch caught the punch. He held the arm for a moment, trying to shove it back, or even break it, but he found he could not. The humanoid was as powerful as he was.
The humanoid did not make any motion, even as Korjac moved behind him. Instead he just stared at Critch. A hole seemed to open through the dust particles just then, and Critch could see the eyes of his enemy. Familiar eyes…
Korjac broke the moment by firing point blank into the humanoid's neck. The bolt seemed to be absorbed by the humanoid, and he flailed an arm back, knocking Korjac to the side. Critch was momentarily distracted, and the humanoid grabbed Critch, tossing him next to Korjac, near a dark catwalk. Critch rose slowly, weighing his options, and choosing the most obvious.
Korjac lay, broken, bleeding, beaten. But not dead, not destroyed. Not yet. His armor broken, his commbadge snapped in two, He still attempted to rise. Critch put a hand on his chest, firmly yet harmlessly holding him down.
"Today is not a good day to die." Critch said, ignoring the humanoid's movements toward Martinez's body, ignoring it reaching to remove the pole. He appraised the broken commbadge, and tapped his own. "Starblade to Maximillian. Beam me up." He tossed the commbadge as the vessel shook around him, and as the Maximillian's signal locked on to the commbadge, it landed on Korjac. He looked at Critch with a fire in his eyes as he disappeared in blue stars.
Critch rose slowly, feeling no pain due to the absence of anything that could feel pain, yet still conscious of bruising on his legs. He focused on his enemy, his nemesis, this being that seemed to only exist to kill and destroy.
The humanoid had pulled free the bloody pole, and faced Critch. It held his stance, as if staring him down, then threw the pole, just as it had done before. But this time, the outcome was unexpected. Critch grabbed the pole out of midair, using the momentum to spin around and fire it right back where it came from. Surprised, the humanoid was not able to do as Critch had done, and was speared through the lower stomach. This did get a reaction, as a guttural, yet human yelp emanated from the creature. It moved back, into the shadows, disappearing into the ship, as Critch moved forward, riding an artificial wave of adrenaline. As he marched, he noticed blood on the floor, at least what looked like blood. A quick scan revealed metallic particles, and many parts that were unknown. He decided to consider it blood, because it comforted him. If it could bleed, he could kill it. He moved towards the shadows where the humanoid had disappeared into, and spoke, somewhat to himself.
"Just you and me now."
"Starblade to Maximillian, beam me up." As Lyon re-entered the bridge, he heard the call. A moment of anger crossed his face, as he wondered why they should risk bringing Lieutenant Commander Starblade back, considering it was his own doings that had caused his current situation. He shook off that thought. He was now in command of this vessel, and Starblade was a member of his crew. All would and must be sacrificed for his crew. For this ship.
"Bring him back!" He barked, and heads throughout the bridge snapped to look at him. Their opinions buried deep, they executed the orders as Lyon moved towards the…his chair. He glanced, noticing Captain Septaric had not left the bridge, as he had half-expected. Instead she was showing her true spirit, something Lyon supposed was due to her Klingon heritage. She would stand and fight, not for her Admiral, but for the Maximillian itself. She was silent too, though a look of suprising anger and hatred, emotions that he never associated with the woman, shown in her looks and gestures. She reluctantly moved from the chair, and whispered as she passed him, "They don't know." She then moved to the operations panels, gazing over the nervous young ensign, glancing at the statistics coming in. She spoke to Lyon without looking at him, and also to the computer, and the crew. "Transfer Command to Admiral Robert Lyon, Authorization Septaric 2-04" She turned and stared at him. "The ship is yours, Admiral."
The crew was surprised, but they did not show it. The tension was building, however, the stress of being amidst the battle and the bridge conditions. Admiral T'Kill approached Lyon's side, speaking softly. "Are you out of your human mind?"
"I know what I'm doing, Turock."
"Here we go again." Blobbin said, as Turock returned to his side, choosing not to argue with Lyon. Not here, not now. "Batten down the hatches, Rob's going to try and lose another ship."
"Status, Captain?" Lyon said loudly, though he could see what was happening by merely gazing at the viewscreen. The object had now moved close to the homeworld, not quite entering the atmosphere yet, and had slowed, mopping up what little resistance remained.
"The vessel has slowed, and looks to be preparing to enter the atmosphere. Kragnar is in Engineering."
He nodded. "Fine. We strike. Break off escort, charge all phaser banks and prepare the torpedoes." He glanced at Blobbin, then continued. "Prepare the Erresdorian shielding and torpedoes."
Even Blobbin was surprised, though a tooth-filled grin spread over his face. He let out a war-whoop, and his body changed into the colors of a Indian brave uniform, complete with three bright purple feathers over his head. "GERANIMO!" He yelled, and quickly moved to a console, forming hands so he could input the correct commands.
Turock was less impressed, and lost his temper for a quick moment. "You can't! They've been barely tested, and never in a battle situation! We have no idea if it'll have any effect, if it'll even protect the Max!"
Blobbin didn't turn from where he was hurriedly punching the screen in front of him, assisted by a security officer. "Of course it'll work! The calculations came from my mind, you know." He formed a third arm with hand, and pointed at his head as he said this.
Turock grimaced. "Yeah, consider the source!"
"ADMIRAL!" Lyon bellowed, and Turock quieted quickly. "I have made my decision. We have stood by long enough, we cannot risk this planet's destruction, risk failure. The object must be stopped, and it must be stopped here. We must use everything at our disposal to succeed."
"Destruction?" Captain Septaric turned, giving up all pretense of not listening to the conversation. "You think it can destroy…"
"The Gorn Homeworld, Captain? I know it will. It's what it's here to do. Destroy. Kill every life in this universe, and beyond."
"How do you know? How can you possibly know this?"
Lyon was silent a moment, delicately preparing his answer. "Because I know. And I know what I'm here to do, what we're all here to do. So lets do it." He glanced up at the viewscreen, glanced at the object which was now slowly sinking into the planet's atmosphere. "Pursuit course, helm. Prepare a spread of Quantum Torpedoes at my mark, to detonate when I give the word. Go."
The great ship Maximillian gained momentum, and followed the object into the clouds, soaring as the sky rushed by it, as the fires attempted to ignite on it's hull from the heat shield. A ship overdue for an overhaul, A displaced Captain, a worn down crew, and a vengeful Admiral all dove towards the planets surface with the same drive and purpose. The torpedoes launched, and the battle began.
Critch walked across the catwalk, and gazed below him. It seemingly was a sort of bridge, connecting portions of this ship. Below him was nothing, at least that's what the looks of it were. His vision, even zoomed in, could only make out the barest glimpses of other catwalks, other walkways, and other devices that he could only begin to guess their meaning and purpose. The bridge went on for a long while, a half-mile if his calculations were correct, but Critch knew the creature had come this way. He was caught in a game now, he knew it, but he knew it was a game he could win. He had hurt the humanoid, chasing it off. He should be cautious, he knew. The old adage came to his mind, nothing being more dangerous than a wounded animal. And that's what this was, an animal, feeding off of death and destruction like it was a full-course meal. He glanced up, and saw clouds rushing by. He couldn't guess the purpose of the object, which now seemed to be a machine, self running and correcting. He put it out of his mind. He had to focus on the task at hand.
As he moved forward, he found his first clue that things were not as they seemed. The metal pole lay in the middle of the walk, glistening with a silver ooze on one end. The humanoid had recovered, it appeared. As he picked up the pole, investigating and scanning it, he was interrupted by a voice, the same voice that they had all heard echoing through the ship before. The voice of the humanoid.
"YOU HAVE COME" It spoke, loudly echoing off the unseen walls of the vessel. Critch shook off the noise.
"I'VE COME FOR YOU! SHOW YOURSELF, MURDERER."
"YOU HAVE INVADED MY VESSEL."
"AND YOU'VE INVADED MY UNIVERSE!"
"YOUR…" The voice stopped, sounding shaken, even a bit confused. "YOU DON'T REMEMBER."
Critch stopped, and his voice was no more than a whisper. "Remember what?" He tried to track down the owner of the voice, tried to get back to a position where he held the advantage, but was distracted by a reflection off of a beam, a blueish star, growing larger…
The torpedo came through the ship, just as the weapons had done before. However this time was different. As it rushed overhead and past Critch, it suddenly burst. Critch was blinded for an instant, followed by a rush of fire and power, surging through the ship. Critch was sent over the side of the catwalk, grasping a side, hanging on with one hand for his life. The Quantum torpedo had burst in a perfect spot, not seriously damaging anything, due to the different frequencies. Critch silently gave thanks for that fact, then cursed himself for not simply beaming in a torpedo, thereby changing the frequency of the torpedo, allowing it to be a part of this ship, and blowing it apart that way. He attempted to pull himself up, when he saw the legs of the humanoid above him, who had like Critch and the ship, though the sudden vibrations had caused many sparks and loose wiring, survived no worse for wear. Critch's eyes scanned upward, and stopped at the face. He blinked. The humanoid let a smile creep across his own face. Critch shook his head. It couldn't be possible…
The humanoid was, in every way and every look, identical to Critch Starblade.
The doppelganger chuckled a bit to himself, stared down, and offered a hand of assistance.
Thoughts flooded Critch's mind, thoughts of what this could mean, of what this must mean, of what he could and could not do next. He chose what he couldn't.
The doppelganger simply said, quietly. "Welcome home."
Critch let go of the grating, and dropped into the darkness below.
"Fire! Fire at Will!"
With Admiral Lyon's command, the torpedo spread shot out of the launchers and encircled the object.
"Detonate!" The torpedoes exploded in a ball of blue blaze. The ship seemed to ripple with the shockwaves, and slowed more.
Those on the ground could not forget the sight. The Crystal ship exploding out of the clouds, a Sovereign-Class vessel hot on the object's tail. They flew close to the ground, as close as they dared, above the mountains and forests, and the Maximillian's hull markings, were it to slow down enough, could be plainly read from the surface. As the object flew, a section of plating on it's backside facing the Maximillian began to shine brightly. As the smoke gushed of the superheated Max, fresh from the heat shield, Admiral Lyon shouted, "Brace yourselves!"
The object fired a single beam from it's rear, striking the Maximillian on it's bow. The command staff flew from their positions, Blobbin in the rear shouting, "GAH! I'm buckling, Admiral!", his form bouncing around the bridge. "STATUS!" Lyon yelled from the floor.
"SHIELDS HOLDING! DOWN TO 75%"
The object, nonplussed with the Maximillian's resistance to the weapon that had destroyed everything it had previously come into contact with, continued to fire. Again, and again, at the same spot it had struck. At the same time, there seemed to be motion at the bottom spire of the object. Panels slid as it moved, and a sharp yellow beam erupted out of the newly created hole. It struck the planet's surface, digging deep into it, burning instantly through rock and rubble.
As the ship shook, and sparks began to rain down upon them, the crew of the Maximillian stood defiant to the last. "KEEP FIRING!" Lyon ordered his beleaguered crew, even as he punched the panel himself, having moved towards a control console, not satisfied with the smaller version on his chair. Septaric, shaken, angry, yelled out across the bridge. "WE HAVE TO PULL BACK! SHIELDS ARE COLLAPSING!"
"WE CANNOT FALL BACK! NOT NOW, NOT EVER!" Lyon was lost in the moment, lost in the possibilities of destroying this thing. He was so close.
Turock yelled from where he was assisting Blobbin, "DO YOU WANT TO LOSE ANOTHER MAXIMILLIAN?"
It hit Lyon hard, the reminder of what had occurred the last time he had taken such a large part in the command of a starship. He had forgotten what it truly meant, forgotten in favor of a life in the Admiralty, a life behind a desk, directing wargames and fleet movements as though they were army soldiers in a backyard sandbox.
The final reminder came quickly. Captain Septaric had saw her console, had saw what was coming, knew the overload that Lyon was causing by endlessly firing would take out half the bridge if she didn't stop him. She knew what she had to do. Not for Lyon, not for anyone here, but for the Maximillian. Her first and only command. She rushed at Lyon, screaming, and before he could react, she shoved him out of the way, using every bit of her Klingon strength. As he flew to the floor, the console erupted with a powerful blast. The fire that seared forth caught Septaric's body. The console exploded, sending out a concussion wave that knocked the remaining members of the bridge crew to the ground. Septaric flew backwards, against the First Officer's chair.
Lyon moved to his feet, dreading, knowing, remembering, and wishing for a different outcome, ANY outcome but this. His wishes did not come true, as he saw the scarred and burned body of Captain S'Quid Tai Septaric. Dead.
Shaken, cold, shocked, Admiral Robert S. Lyon rose to his feet, unsteadily rocking as pieces of room collapsed in a corner. He rasped out a few words, too quiet to hear.
"Admiral…?" Commander Ayers asked, having regained her post in the Communications chair.
"I SAID FALL BACK!" He yelled, angrily, and sank into the Captain's chair. No. His chair.
The Maximillian pulled up, and was further damaged by the stress of exiting the planet's atmosphere so quickly. The beam from the object continued for another full minute, and if the object was concerned with the Maximillian, it made no move. Instead, it closed it's bottom panels once the beam ceased, and broke off from it's low orbit. It peeled into the atmosphere, much more gracefully than the Max, and moved past it, not even bothering to attack the smoking severely damaged vessel. As the ships moved away from the planet, the rut made by the beam began to glow with a bright yellow haze. Lava erupted from it, but soon even that was overshadowed by the light. The planet began to spin faster. Intense quakes rocked the entire globe. Beams of light began to break through the crust and the ground. The Gorn Homeworld spun and spun until it could spin no more. A bright flash of yellow light and fire flew from the planet, rocks and debris spreading through the once proud system. And after the light dissipated, nothing remained of the world.
Uncaring, unimpressed, and emotionless, the object moved into the void, silent, soulless, and disappeared.
HE KNEW.
The information coming in was off the charts, what little he could read as the light overshadowed everything else in the room. The Admiral had dropped to the floor, attempting to protect his vision. But the young Captain no longer cared. He felt fear, for once in his life, actual fear at what this other place was capable of, of what it had done before.
And now that they were aware of him, of the Federation, of all of this, he was afraid of what it would do again.
He thought quickly, as the panels and computers began exploding around him. He sent the destruct signal. He would later swear that he had not sent the probe in, that he had no control over it, and he would be absolved of any responsibility. But he knew the truth. He had to get close to the anomaly…closer to knowing more.
Half in and half out of the anomaly, the probe self-destructed. A bright flash took place, and then simply, everything was gone. There were no records remaining on the ship, every system and back-up system fried in the feedback. The only one who knew what could happen was Lyon.
And he knew that if anything was to happen, it would be his fault.
His responsibility.
And his alone.
