Captain's log, stardate 8230. Starship Excelsior on course to the Keid System, also known as 40 Eridani, and in the home universe, the Vulcan System. It has been over a month since the secession of Babylon 5 and several colonies from the Earth Alliance. It's also two weeks since the bridge officers of the late Enterprise left for home. I'm confident that the task force that Starfleet Command has allowed to stay will protect Babylon 5. Having heard almost nothing from the civilian research vessel Hakudo Maru, I've decided to take the initiative and investigate.
Captain Hikaru Sulu kept his eyes trained on the three bright dots in the starry field on the main viewscreen. One was orange-red, one was white and the third was dim red. They were the stars of the Keid System. In the home universe, Keid A would be Vulcan's sun while Keid B and C would be bright stars in the Vulcan sky, shining even in the day time.
"Ms. Rand, are we in range?"
"Yes, Captain."
"All right, contact the Hakudo Maru."
"Yes, sir."
Janice Rand worked on her controls, fine-tuning the subspace frequencies. There was a good side to this universe's lack of subspace technology: not much extraneous chatter to filter out. Although that was slowly changing: Rand could hear subspace mumblings from the directions of Babylon 5, Centauri space and beyond, not to mention the InterStellar Alliance.
There!
"Sir, the Hakudo Maru is answering."
Sulu looked up at Chekov with relief. The Excelsior's new executive officer was standing beside the command chair. "Onscreen."
The female Vulcan leader of the expedition came on the main viewscreen.
"Director T'Sara."
She gave a short nod of greeting. "Captain Sulu."
"Are you all right? We haven't heard from you."
"I apologize. We were distracted by tasks at hand."
"You mean Dr. Howard and the shuttle Hak'Mar?"
"Not anymore. We followed the shuttle's trail and found debris corresponding to the mass of the Hak'Mar. We concluded that it was destroyed and Dr. Howard was killed. We then elected to investigate this universe's counterpart of Vulcan at Keid II."
"I see." Sulu was relieved. The civilians were all right, then. Still, they should have reported to Babylon 5. Oh well, that's Vulcans for you. Even so, they could probably protect themselves with their ship. The Hakudo Maru was once a Vulcan cruiser named the Shi'Mar. As far as Sulu knew, Vulcan ships from the Romulan War era could match most warships in this universe, not counting the First Ones and possibly the Minbari. But he didn't want to have that tested. "How is it?"
"The planet's infrastructure indicates heavy orbital assault approximately a thousand years ago. The debris in orbit corresponds to Shadow, Vorlon and Minbari technology. There are remains of early non-warp Vulcan ships as well. Other vessels in the debris field do not correspond to anything we have on file. Some of us theorize that some of them were early forms of Yolu and Markab vessels. We are analyzing them. However, we are focusing our efforts on the planet surface. We have begun investigations at the cities of ShiKahr, Kir, Raal, Gol, T'Paal and Vulcana Regar."
Sulu was surprised. Six cities investigated by a single research vessel. "Isn't that…a lot to do?"
"Indeed. However, we are initiating dig trenches only at ShiKahr and Gol at the present time."
"What about the…natives?"
T'Sara allowed a hint of sorrow to come through her façade. "They are primitive and few in number. The various groups avoid all contact with each other and us. For the most part, they also avoid coming up to the surface, preferring to remain in caves and small underground cities. We once investigated the T'Karath Sanctuary only to find it occupied by hostiles. It would seem that the ancient orbital assault reduced the Keidians to behaviors of survival rather than cooperation and self-improvement. But we are continuing efforts to contact them…most cautiously."
Sulu caught the new name given to the natives of this planet. It was a measure of T'Sara's attempted emotional detachment for her to call her people's counterpart 'Keidians.' "Do you need assist—"
A beep sounded at the communications station. Janice Rand listened and turned to Sulu with surprise. "Sir, we're receiving a subspace distress signal. It's Starfleet."
T'Sara heard what Rand said. "It would appear that you will be too busy to render assistance to us. I will send messages to Starfleet Command if I require assistance." With that, she cut the connection.
Sulu turned his chair around to Rand. "Talk to me. Is it Babylon 5?"
"No, sir. The source has identified itself as the USS Majestic. It's near the Zwiest System."
Sulu didn't recognize the system's name so he got up to the science station, followed by Chekov. "Mr. Tuvok, show us the map."
The Vulcan ensign brought up a map of local systems on a monitor at his station. An eyebrow rose on Tuvok's forehead. Sulu looked up at Chekov. They shared Tuvok's sentiments.
"What the hell? What's a Federation starship's doing so far away? Zwiest is between Centauri and Vorlon space. Ms. Rand, do you have the ship's coordinates?"
"Yes, sir. Transferring coordinates to navigations and sciences."
A tiny Starfleet delta appeared on the map, blinking on and off near the star labeled Zwiest and another unlabeled star.
"My God! It's right at the edge of the Vorlon Empire! What the hell is Starfleet thinking??" Captain Sulu quickly went to his command chair and activated the ship's intercom system. "Engineering, can we open a jumppoint now?"
The voice of Chief Engineer Devon Gabler came over the speakers. "Yes, sir. It'll require a lot of power, though."
"Do it." Normal warp would be too slow. Hyperwarp would be their best bet of getting to that ship before it attracted the attention of the Vorlons. So far, they hadn't shown any overt action toward any Starfleet ship. Sulu wasn't about to let the ship's presence tip the Vorlons' hand against the Federation.
From the Excelsior's deflector dish, a tachyon and geodesic pulse was sent into subspace. The power required to open the jumppoint caused energy drains all over the starship. The light dimmed on the bridge for a while. Eventually, the pulses successfully pierced the fabric of space and the lights on the ship shone back to full power. There was, however, no visible sign of a hyperspace vortex. Instead, it appeared as if a faint cloud of reddish gas spilled out into normal space.
"Take us in."
The Excelsior slid into the cloud, vanishing in a burst of light. The red cloud appeared to be sucked back into hyperspace, leaving no sign of the starship's transfer into that dimension.
Once in hyperspace, Sulu said, "Do we have the signal from the beacon at Zwiest?"
"Yes, sir," said Angelo Tiffe.
"Take us there. Hyperwarp 1.8."
The starship stretched and vanished into the murky distance of hyperspace.
Zwiest System
The local jumpgate activated. Energy rushed down the three struts, building up power. Then a blue vortex bloomed open. Out of it came the Excelsior. Immediately, it aimed itself at a specific neighboring star and warped.
"The ship's coming into sensor range," reported the security chief Leonard James Akaar.
Sulu gestured at Janice Rand.
"Majestic, this is Excelsior," said Janice on cue. "This is Excelsior calling. Do you receive? …I say again, this is Excelsior calling Majestic. Come in, please. Please respond. Please—" The female communications officer turned to Sulu. "It's no use. No response from Majestic."
Captain Sulu grumbled his annoyance. The distress signal from the ship was the vaguest he'd ever encountered. It was only giving off the Code 7-10, the quarantine code. That meant that no Starfleet or Federation-registered starship is to approach a system or vessel which is broadcasting Code 7-10. "They want help, but they won't give details. You're right, Commander Chekov. This has to be a high security operation."
"Extremely high security," Chekov noted, rehashing a conversation that they had during the voyage in hyperspace. "Way out here, far from any of the main jump routes, right at the edge of Vorlon space. Whatever it is they're doing, they want it secret. Perhaps they just don't want anyone eavesdropping."
On the main viewscreen, a red giant star was already visible, glowing feebly. Flares constantly licked out of the aging star's surface, some arcing back down. Knots of sunspots were scattered all over it, tarnishing the sun's surface like age spots.
When the Excelsior came out of warp, the red star was a wall of flame that filled half the visible universe. It occupied a volume equal to the orbit of Jupiter.
"Where's the Majestic?" wondered Chekov aloud.
Obligingly, Ensign Tuvok pinpointed the beleaguered ship's location and magnified it on the main viewscreen. Almost within reach of the arcing flares of the ancient star, a Miranda-class starship appeared to be adrift.
"Wow…," breathed an intimidated Chekov. "They shouldn't have parked so close to the star."
"That may be the point," said Akaar, coming up beside Chekov and Sulu. "They wanted to make interception difficult. The star's gravity field would make any vessel, friend or foe, slow down on approach. It would force any ship in hyperspace to jump out far away from the star and approach in normal space. That gives them time to detect, scan and evade."
Sulu nodded. "Tactically, that is the right decision. In practice, it's going to kill them. This is the wrong place to hide." He pointed at the map still displayed at Tuvok's station. "We're right at the border of the Vorlon Empire. We might even be in Vorlon space. The star charts aren't clear about the borders. Good thing the star didn't have any planet or satellite. There's no hyperspace beacon for this star. However, we don't know what the Vorlons might use to guard their borders so jealously." He glanced nervously at the main viewscreen. "Who knows? They might have detected us and are preparing a response."
"How do we know they haven't already responded?" retorted Akaar.
Captain Sulu stared at his security chief uncomfortably. That was a possible explanation for the lack of communication from the Majestic. He hadn't thought of that. He turned to Janice. "Lieutenant? Is there anything else yet?"
The middle-aged blonde shook her head. "Sorry, Captain. There's still nothing from the Majestic."
When the Excelsior came into transporter range of the Miranda-class starship, Captain Sulu said, "Commander, gather the team for transport. And Chekov?"
"Sir?"
"Be careful."
"Yes, sir."
o0o
Pavel Chekov was in the main transporter room when the rest of his landing party arrived. The female Denobulan engineer Terim Azleya, the medical technician Peter Tiefen and the security officer Colton Ford. Seeing that everyone were ready, the commander told the transporter operator to beam them over to the Majestic's bridge.
"Yes, sir. Energizing."
The transporter effect obscured the view of the Excelsior's transporter room and then faded away. They were now on the Majestic.
Immediately, they activated their flashlights and looked around at the dim bridge. Only the emergency lighting shone.
"Seems empty, sir," commented Azleya. She added in a hushed voice, "And quiet."
The Majestic was indeed quiet. There were none of the familiar background noises of a starship. The air circulators were off. The coolant pipes were silent. There weren't even any beep from the various monitors and computers. Starships weren't silent, no matter how well designed. Liquid, air and plasma flowing through pipes. Everything whistled, vibrated and hummed. The Majestic…didn't.
"Over here!" shouted Colton.
The party rushed to where the security officer was kneeling. It was a body, sprawled half out of his seat as if he fell trying to get up. He appeared to be severely dehydrated to the point where he was mummified. A shockingly pale-white body dressed in a ripped and torn uniform. They cringed at the sight. The dead man must have wanted to scream, but couldn't have managed more than a gurgle or a hiss. The palate, all its teeth intact, made a pale gothic arch over the ruins of the missing jaw, a grotesque half-cathedral. The tongue was gone. His skin was stretched and sunken, mostly pale and almost white. The eyes bulged and the hands clenched. In spite of the damage, a look of terror and agony was evident on the face. The man's jaw was clenched in one of his fists. His was evidently not an easy death.
"Look," said Ford, waving his rifle at the body.
Everywhere on it, there were tiny lines in the body—they looked at first like wrinkles, but they weren't. They were slits in the skin, as if it had been stretched to the point of shredding. The body looked something horribly alien while frighteningly human at the same time.
Peter scanned it with a medical tricorder. His voice shook. "There's no blood. No fluid. Nothing!"
Chekov could see that. The body was too pale. And there was no pool of blood around it or anything resembling blood in the gaping wound. There was no smell. That meant there had been no predation. All the fluids were gone.
"Disease?" said Azleya.
Peter shook his head. "I know of no disease that could deliver this sort of full-body punch."
"What about a chemical agent?" suggested Colton.
"You mean like a biogenic weapon?" Peter shook his head. "The tricorder isn't picking up any foreign substance in the body." He looked away from the body. He was trying to control his trembling reaction. "I've seen many battle wounds, illnesses and accidents. Nothing comes close to this."
Morbidly curious, he reached out to touch the mummified body. It came apart. Fragmenting, breaking into dusty pieces. Gasping with horror and surprise, Peter jerked his hand back just as the corpse collapsed. It crumbled to the deck, shattering into dust.
"Galaxy!" said a shocked Azleya. "What is it? What happened here?"
Colton tenderly laid a hand on the trembling medtech's shoulder. "It's okay, Pete. There's plenty we don't know and we will find out."
Peter appeared to draw comfort from the hand. He stood up and nodded. "Yes, Colt."
Colton smiled softly at the familiar inside joke. It meant Peter was recovering from the shock.
"All right," said Chekov, recovering professionally. "Let's spread out."
o0o
The corridors were quiet, but were littered with discarded items. The walls were covered in phaser burn marks. Chekov nervously walked down one of the corridors, sweeping the area with his flashlight and phaser. So far he hadn't found anyone. He jumped when a beep sounded from his communicator.
Chiding himself, he flipped the communicator open. "Commander Chekov here."
"Commander, this is Lieutenant Azleya." The Russian could hear a tremor in the Denobulan woman's voice. "I'm in Engineering. Sir…everybody's dead here."
"Can you see how…they died?"
"They all display the same symptoms as the body we found at the bridge. Slits in the body and absolutely no blood."
Chekov absorbed the information in silence. What the hell happened here? Could it be the Vorlons? He shivered as he imagined an encounter-suited Vorlon suddenly appearing around a corner, attacking Chekov and sucking the life out of him like a vampire.
"Uh…. Can you access the internal sensors?"
"No, sir. A phaser blast destroyed the console for them."
"All right. Carry on, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir."
o0o
Colton Ford warily investigated the quarters. He held a phaser rifle at the ready with a flashlight. He was strung taut. So far, the quarters were empty and showed signs of sudden abandonment: food still waiting on tables, entertainment vidshows still running, and even a shower still running. Many showed signs of combat: phaser scorch marks, broken glass, overturned furniture. If the ship was being invaded, why wasn't there any sign of alien weapons? Surely even the Vorlons needed weapons to fight?
He approached another door leading into crew quarters. It may be exactly the same as the other quarters, but he remained wary. He opened the door.
Colton drew a sharp breath.
Bodies were in there. Many mummified bodies in various states of terror, fright and struggle. A few were hugging for comfort or protection. All were the same as the body in the bridge. Shockingly pale with slits everywhere on the body. Even the one Andorian he could see was just as pale as the dead humans. The only body that wasn't pale was a Tellarite but then again, the alien's fur could be hiding the paleness. Judging by the cloudy unfocused eyes, the Tellarite was obviously as dead as everyone else.
Strange. He had been in combat before. A room full of dead bodies should be stinking to high heaven. Here, there was no smell at all. Of course. There wasn't any fluid left to give off a smell. This was way beyond his experience.
Shivering, Colton stepped back out of the quarters and allowed the door to slide shut.
A beep trilled out of his communicator, making him jump. It was Commander Chekov. "Everybody, report to the transporter room. There's something there!"
Jolted by the news, Colton ran down the corridor.
Chekov was studying the transporter controls when the others arrived.
He looked up at the arrivals. "The transporters have been reconfigured in a strange manner. Lieutenant Azleya, can you tell me what's wrong with the transporters?"
The engineer came up to the transporter control console beside Chekov. "I see it. There's someone in the pattern buffers. You're right. It's strange. Power is being drawn from the auxiliary systems while the rematerialization subroutines have been disabled—on purpose. The phase inducers are connected to the emitter array and the pattern buffers are locked in a diagnostic cycle. Whoever did this is an engineering genius!"
"Can anyone survive in the transporter buffer for a long time?" wondered Blake aloud.
Azleya shrugged. "There's one way to find out." She restored the rematerialization subroutines and activated the transporters. "Energizing."
A pillar of shimmering light appeared on a transporter pad and faded to reveal a man wearing a torn white lab coat. The human looked around in surprise, gasping and choking. His face was blotchy and deformed. The surprise turned into terror.
"Oh God! No!"
The human looked around frantically. He flew down from the transporter pad, stumbling. He careened off the glass shield protecting the transporter control station, bumped into a wall and thumped heavily to the deck below.
The landing party took startled steps backward.
He implored, "Kill me! Somebody kill me! Hurry!" His eyes still shifted in terror in a face whose skin was now twitching as if there were things moving around just beneath it.
The Excelsior crewmembers looked at each other in their own surprise. They didn't expect a person who tried to preserve himself in the transporters to beg them to kill him.
Colton pointed his phaser rifle away at the ceiling when the man's eyes sought him beseechingly. Chekov raised his hands placatingly. "You're safe now. It's all right."
"No! It's not all right! I'm dead! You're too late! Everyone's dead! You're all dead! DEAD!"
Peter Tiefen saw that the man's pulse rate was frighteningly high in his medical tricorder's reading. Sidling up to the man on the deck, he touched a hypospray to his neck and a soft hiss sounded.
"Here," he said gently to the transporter refugee. "This will ease the pain."
That should have calmed the man. Instead, he started twitching and shuddering even more frantically. "Oh no! It's happening! Oh, please, no—! Kill me! Oh God, please kill me!"
He jerked suddenly across the deck as if something was dragging him from the inside. He pulled himself up, almost standing again, pushed himself off the wall. It looked as if he would run off, but before he could do so, he clutched his belly and screamed. A dark red stain began spreading across the front of his uniform, darker than the wine-red of the Starfleet tunic.
"Kill me! Quickly! God damn you!"
Peter took a step backward to keep out of his way. Azleya stumbled backward to get out of the medtech's way.
Taking advantage of the distraction, the unnamed man threw himself at Azleya and wrenched her phaser out of her surprised hand. Before they could stop him, he turned the phaser on himself and fired.
The human dropped to the deck.
Peter hurriedly kneeled beside the dying man. As he rifled through his medkit, he muttered to himself angrily. Azleya kneeled beside him, looked into the man's dimming eyes and asked quietly, "Why?"
Peace and relief coming in waves over his face, he breathed his last.
As the body slumped, the wet stain in his uniform continued to spread. Soon, something appeared to be slithering under the clothes. Peter nervously undid the dead man's shirt. What appeared to be tiny flame-colored creatures that looked to be worms the size of maggots were making their way out of the body and steam were coming off of the seeping blood and the creatures, indicating great heat.
Puzzled and sickened, Peter scanned them with his tricorder. At a confirming beep, his jaw fell. He stood up and shouted, "Get out!"
"What is it?" inquired Chekov urgently.
"Just get out! Get out of here, now!"
More slippery red worms oozed out of the body. First a few, then more and more. They flowed down to the deck and across it toward the landing party.
"Now!" ordered the medtech, grabbing at Colton's arm.
The team shuffled quickly out of the transporter room. Once they were out, Blake turned around and fiddled with the door controls, then fired his phaser down the line separating the two parts of the door. They were now sealed outside of the transporter room.
"Did you see that?" cried Azleya. "What the hell was that?!"
Trembling, Peter said, "Regulan bloodworms…."
Everyone else was now just as shocked and horrified. Even the usually compassionate Terim Azleya twisted her face in horrified disgust, her purplish-blue eyes widening in horror. Colton numbly fumbled with his phaser rifle for a moment until he aimed the rifle at the door.
Chekov, numbed by the news, fumbled with his communicator as he activated it. "Commander Chekov to Excelsior."
"Excelsior here," said Janice Rand.
"Ve…Ve…." Chekov swallowed and took control of his voice and himself. "The Majestic is infected with Regulan bloodworms."
A shocked silence came through the communicator. And then: "Sir? Can you repeat that?"
Chekov looked up at the others. Terim Azleya, Colton Ford and Peter Tiefen. He could see the death sentence in their eyes.
"Sir? Commander Chekov?"
He whispered, almost to himself, "Ve are dead."
USS Excelsior
Captain's log, supplemental. Commander Chekov has reported that the starship Majestic is infected with Regulan bloodworms. The mystery of the ship's presence at the edge of Vorlon space has deepened with this piece of unwelcome news. What could a Federation starship be doing with the deadly plasmasites onboard? There is no cure for the lethal infection and there is a standing order to destroy any vessels that are contaminated. For personal reasons, I hesitate to carry out this order. I would like to see if there is anything that could be done before I resort to not only destroying the Majestic, but also murdering my friends and crewmates onboard. In the meantime, we are left with this question: What is a Federation starship doing at the edge of Vorlon space, carrying such a dangerous contraband as Regulan bloodworms?
Angelo Tiffe exclaimed, "Il Dio mio! Regulan bloodworms! But…but it's impossible! How did it get here?"
Ensign Tuvok said, "Insufficient data. I doubt it is indigenous to this universe. Regulan bloodworms have been known to Vulcan science for centuries. However, it developed its deadliness when the only recorded plasmasite infection occurred on the fourth planet of the Regulan System seventy-nine years ago. Since then, a plague of Regulan bloodworms is virtually unknown."
"Until now," said Janice shakily.
Sulu nodded. "Until now. As I recall, Regulus IV has been quarantined." He looked suspiciously at the vista of the Majestic on the main viewscreen. "It's clear that the quarantine has been breached. If, of course, the infection didn't come from this universe." He leaned forward, resting his chin on a hand, and glared at the drifting Miranda-class starship. Mr. Tiffe pointed out an excellent question: How did it get here? But Sulu had to wonder why it was here.
He rubbed his chin. "I wonder."
USS Majestic
"Sir."
Chekov halted the team's progress through a corridor. "What is it, Mr. Tiefen?"
The doctor held out his medical tricorder out in front of himself. "I'm picking up life signs. They seem to be coming through that."
Following Peter's pointing finger, they saw that the life signs were coming from a wide double door.
"That's a cargo bay," Azleya pointed out helpfully.
Chekov nodded at Colton, Peter and Azleya who then went up to the door. Blake pressed his back up against the wall beside the door. When he saw that the others were ready with their phasers, he pressed a button in the control panel beside the door.
Colton and Azleya ran through the open door and halted midstride.
Peter and Chekov entered the dim cargo bay and peered at where the engineer and the security officer were aiming their flashlights. A group of people huddling behind an energy force field in the cargo bay, blinking and squinting at the light shining on them.
Survivors!
The commander hurriedly went as close as he could to the energy barrier. "I'm Commander Pavel Andreievich Chekov of the starship Excelsior. How many of you are here?"
A distinctly Vulcan woman came through the huddled mass. "There are twelve of us."
Chekov's jaw dropped. "Saavik…?"
A slanted eyebrow rose slightly. "It is indeed I," she said simply.
Recovering from the surprise of seeing Saavik, Chekov said, "Are there any other survivor somewhere else on the ship?"
"No, sir."
The Excelsior's landing party gaped at Saavik.
Peter peered at the survivors. "Just how many people were there before you became twelve people?"
Coolly, Saavik responded, "Two-hundred and twenty crewmembers."
The nurse gasped. "220! Only 12 out of 220!"
USS Excelsior
Captain Sulu was also shocked at the death rate onboard the Majestic. Twelve out of 220 crewmembers. Atrocious! What the hell is going on here?
"Sir?" prompted Chekov over the communications link.
Sulu looked at Akaar and Tuvok. Both the Capellan and Vulcan subtly shook their heads. The captain sighed. The landing party had requested to be beamed over to the Excelsior, preferably into a quarantine room. It was too risky. "Mr. Tuvok, tell me again."
The Vulcan took the posture of a lecturer. "The infection is airborne and carried by the bloodworms which are, by their nature, plasmasites rather than parasites. Once a person is in the contaminated environment, he is immediately infected. Depending on the immunology, the victim soon develops a fever. If the bloodworms are unable to attack the victim and consume his fluids, he will develop symptoms similar to the Symbalene Blood-burn within hours, but much slower than the actual thing. The pathogen, as you are aware, causes the vascular lining to literally boil away. The initial symptoms include a critical rise in body temperature and blood pressure, followed by extreme pain in the extremities and the rupture of the capillaries. Death usually follows. If this does not occur yet, the pathogen soon develops infant bloodworms which then make their way out of the body, thereby killing the victim."
Sulu stared at Tuvok. How could the recitation not affect the calm Vulcan?
"Unlike Symbalene," continued Ensign Tuvok, "the effect is stretched over hours or days. Depending on the race's immunity and transportation technology, the Regulan bloodworms could infect a whole planet of 3 billion inhabitants in approximately a week. In another week or so, depending on their immunology, the entire population would be dead. It is far too dangerous to risk exposing the Excelsior to the Regulan bloodworms. Sir, I must remind you of the standing Starfleet order to destroy all contaminated vessels. Rescue is not to be attempted."
The captain felt trapped. He knew about the order only too well. General Order 22. It came into being initially because of the plague on Regulus IV in the year 2214. It required Federation personnel to destroy all infected space structures and ships and to not attempt any rescue whatsoever. Over the years, the order came to be paired with General Order 24, the order to destroy all life on a planet, to prevent future visitors from getting infected and spreading the pathogen to other worlds. In this context, the bloodworms were indeed a hostile threat to the Federation, as required for the implementation of General Order 24. Nowadays, either order has come to mean the elimination of all life that has posed a threat to the Federation as a whole. But he couldn't bring himself to murder his friends such as Pavel Chekov and Saavik. Akaar recognized the dilemma.
"Captain, killing them would be a mercy," said Akaar.
"There is no known cure," put in Tuvok. "There is no record of anybody surviving the plasmasites."
"The order is clear," pressed Akaar.
"I…I'm not ready to give that…that kind of order," said Sulu.
The Capellan security chief's face became harder. "Captain…if you refuse to carry out the order, I'm required to relieve you of command and carry it out anyway."
Sulu frowned at Akaar. Since Wolf 359 and Mars, the Capellan had been become a hard man. "I didn't say I was refusing the order," he said. "I'm just not ready to give it…now. We need to talk about this. Think about it."
"There's nothing to talk about," said Akaar. "Nothing to think about. Just do it. It will be easier."
Tuvok then said, "Too many ships were lost attempting rescues, Captain. There is no alternative. The orders are specific. Complete and total destruction of any infected vessel and planet. Including crew, passengers and inhabitants. The order saved the colonies at Regulus III and V. Rescue is not to be attempted."
Taking a deep breath, Sulu signaled Rand to re-open frequencies. "Commander, you are aware of the standing Starfleet order concerning contaminated vessels?"
"Uh, yes, sir. But sir, you can't do that."
"I understand. You wouldn't like the symptoms of the bloodworms that you will develop."
"I know, sir. That's not what I mean. Saavik has informed me that the bloodworms has mutated. If you destroy the Majestic, the bloodworms will survive and drift in space until they reach a planet or are picked up by a passing wessel. Even if they don't, they'll remain in close orbit around the star, living on its heat. There will be a feeding and breeding frenzy among the plasmasites in the star's corona."
"A whole star getting infected?" said Sulu incredulously.
"Just the corona, sir." Sulu recognized Saavik's voice. "If any of the plasmasites manage to get inside the star, the bloodworms would be completely destroyed. With the plasmasites in the corona, a stellar event such as a nova will create a shock wave of plasmasites in all directions across the galaxy where they'd infect more stars and planets where they're captured by gravity fields if they aren't picked up by passing ships. There will be a grace period of billions of years before that happens, but it will happen. Certainly, if a passing vessel picks up the plasmasites, the grace period will be moot."
The bridge crew blanched at this new piece of information. "Damned if we do. Damned if we don't," muttered Sulu.
Saavik didn't have to describe what would happen if a passing ship picked up the plasmasites. This star system was isolated and didn't have a jumpgate or jumpbeacon. Still, there's the possibility that someone might investigate this system, get infected and bring the plasmasites to an inhabited planet. The locals didn't have the controlled circumstances of Federation space and Starfleet nor did they know about the protocols concerning Regulan bloodworms. An infection in this universe would be nothing short of…apocalyptic.
"Sir?" Sulu could hear the rising panic in Chekov's voice. "The…the bloodworms are getting through the doors."
This just keeps getting better and better. Sulu pressed the intercom button in his command chair. "Bridge to main transporter room."
The bridge crew looked around at their captain and held their breath.
"Transporter room one, here."
"Can you beam the landing party into the secured area behind the force field on the Majestic?"
"Site to site transport on another ship? Through a force field? I-I think I can, sir."
"Do it."
USS Majestic
"Oh no—" Azleya was pointing at the cargo bay doors. "Commander!"
Three red worms were crawling through the middle seam of the doors.
"Stay back!" cautioned Colton.