Enterprise – The Maiden Voyage

by Soledad

For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the Introduction.

The med techs are canon extras, named after the actors/actresses who played them. The bit about Elachi procreation has been borrowed from the Star Trek Online website. The rest of the fake science is made up by me.

Beta read by the wonderful and generous LoyaulteMeLie, whom I owe my gratitude. All remaining mistakes are exclusively mine.


Chapter 13 – Transfigurations

The journey to the Gamma Vertis system – situated two galactic sectors away up the spiral arm – required eighteen days, despite the extensive repairs done in orbit of Berengaria VII. Both Jack and Charlie Tucker were afraid of pushing the engines too far, and Gerasen Gerasal agreed that a few more days wouldn't matter and they would be better off safe than sorry.

Only the senior officers knew why they were heading this particular direction. But since this was their first true exploratory mission in deep space, the science department was buzzing with excitement like a beehive during the entire journey. And when they finally arrived and the first Away Team was deployed, everyone sat in front of the viewscreens, either on the Bridge or in the Mess Hall, eager to watch their progress.

Movie Night didn't even come close to this, as Petty Officer Daniels so elaborately put it.

The Elachi planet of origin, now a dead world, was the fourth of a total of nine planets orbiting a red giant. Originally it must have been Class M… or perhaps closer to Class N, although not entirely covered in water. Now it was little more than a lifeless rock, where a dead ocean covered most of the surface, its dark waters lapping listlessly against the barren coasts. Seen from space, the rocks appeared to be red, but from close-up they proved to be of a shade that was closer to rose and purple than true red.

"The ocean is completely lifeless," Dr Yannes reported, finishing her preliminary scans. "There's nothing alive, not even any single-cell organisms."

Her voice was somewhat distorted by the rebreather she was wearing – the composition of what was still left of the planet's atmosphere was noxious to most humanoids – but that fact couldn't hide her excitement.

T'Pol nodded distractedly while continuing her own scans. She found that the ocean was interesting in its own right nonetheless, as its dark emerald waves rolled out to the shore under a mauve sky. The colours formed a strange, grim harmony that matched the deadness of the entire world.

Due to the unusually high density of stars in this sector, Gamma Ventris IV didn't know true night. The sky was forever brilliant with stars, and the system's primary glowed in carmine shades among them, like a big, fat ruby amidst tiny, scattered diamonds, swollen and red as it had already entered the final stages of its existence. Soon – in astronomical terms – it would begin swelling more and more, until it swallowed the nine planets it had given life to a long, long time ago.

Ensign Mayweather had set down the shuttlepod in the middle of a natural amphitheatre of rock in the middle of the one small continent the planet could call its own. As the freshly-minted Executive Officer of Enterprise, T'Pol had been assigned the task of leading the Away Team, and she had selected Dr Yannes, Crewman Novakovich and Crewman Cooper to accompany her; the latter individual at the request of Chef, who had wanted her out of his hair, as she was doing more damage in the galley than she was actually helping.

"She won't be able to do much harm on an already dead planet," Chef had argued, "and I really need a break from her clumsiness."

T'Pol hadn't been very keen to allow the plague of the lower decks, as Crewman Cooper was generally called, to go down to a potentially dangerous planet with them. But she stood in Chef's debt for providing her with excellent Vulcan meals, and Vulcans took such obligations very seriously. Besides which, she couldn't tell Chef the true reason of their visit on Gamma Ventris IV, as it was strictly confidential.

Therefore she consented, albeit reluctantly, and Crewman Cooper was now standing on the soil of an alien planet – a chance many other crewman would give an arm for – grimacing unhappily at the surroundings, but otherwise remaining silent.

For the time being anyway. Her senior officer had no illusions that it would remain so much longer.

T'Pol remained silent as well. She found the planet actually quite beautiful in its deadness, but was careful enough not to say such things to the humans. They usually had a very different view on things.

"Subcommander," Ensign Soccorro, one of the two security personnel also assigned to the Away Team by Lieutenant Reed, interrupted her thoughts. "I'm reading an interconnected chin of natural caves under those hills, sixteen degrees westward from our current position. Perhaps we'll find something of interest there."

"A logical assumption," T'Pol replied. "You, Crewmen Novakovich and Cooper, come with me. Ensign Mayweather and Crewman Namod, you remain with Doctor Yannes and keep scanning for remains of advanced technology as well as for signs that anyone has lived here in the last hundred thousand years."

"Aye, Ma'am!" Mayweather answered crisply, while the big, burly Armoury Crewman Namod, a man of few words but many expressive shrugs, simply nodded.

T'Pol flipped open her communicator. "T'Pol to Enterprise."

"Go ahead," Archer's voice answered.

"Ensign Soccorro has found a system of natural caves, sir," T'Pol reported. "We are going to divide our party. Three of us will investigate the caves; the other half of the team will continue the scans on the surface."

"That is a good idea," the captain said. "Be careful, though; and keep me informed."

"Yes, Captain," T'Pol closed her communicator and looked at the others. "You have your orders. Let us go."


Finding the entrance to the cave system proved easier than expected. They simply followed Ensign Soccorro's readings, which led them to the opposite site of the amphitheatre, about a kilometre from their landing point, arriving in front of a sheer rock wall that didn't seem any different than all the other rock walls around them.

"There's nothing here!" Crewman Cooper complained. "It's the same bloody rock as anywhere else!"

Ensign Soccorro rolled her eyes. "To the naked eye perhaps," she replied, clearly restraining her annoyance with considerable willpower. "My readings clearly show that the entrance must be right behind this wall."

"And how are we supposed to open it?" Cooper demanded. "Shoot our way through the rock?"

"I wouldn't advise doing that," Ethan Novakovich studied his own readings. "It seems to be something behind that rock. Something organic." His voice betrayed surprise; from their readings from orbit, the planet had been assumed to be completely lifeless.

"Show me." T'Pol held out an imperious hand. Novakovich handed her the scanner and she, too, studied the readings for a moment. "Indeed, those are organic residues. No higher life forms, though. The closest equivalent would be algae or fungi."

"Fungi?" Ensign Soccorro echoed, frowning. "Wasn't this planet once populated by a fungus-based life form?"

"That was one hundred thousand years ago," the Vulcan replied, making a mental note to keep a closer eye on the ensign.

Lieutenant Reed had clearly briefed her beyond the basic necessity, which actually made sense. She was a Starfleet Intelligence agent, working for him without the captain's knowledge. Lieutenant Reed had sent her to be his eyes and ears on this away mission; she needed to know why.

In this particular case T'Pol found her presence agreeable. Soccorro's knowledge of the nature of their mission meant that she would not stumble heedlessly into danger as some human security officers tended to do. And she was highly trained and tough as nails – a welcome contrast to Cooper.

"Can we risk entering the caves, by whatever means we can gain entrance?" Novakovich asked in concern. "There could be spores in there; or bacteria. We should have brought hazmat suits."

"That is a distinct possibility," T'Pol agreed, "but protective suits are not necessary. The rebreather masks can protect our airways efficiently. Set your filters to maximum and you will be safe."

"Let's scan the rock wall for density variations," Ensign Soccorro suggested. "When we map the thinner, weaker area, we can estimate the size of the doorway."

This idea made perfect sense, and they soon found out that the door – assuming that there was a door camouflaged in the seemingly unbroken rock wall – was fairly small. None of them would be able to pass through it standing upright… but that wasn't really surprising, Soccorro commented.

"The captain said the Shroomies weren't any taller than perhaps five feet," she added.

"We still cannot tell for certain that the aliens invading Enterprise had anything in common with the former inhabitants of this planet," T'Pol reminded her.

"At least they seem to be of a similar size," Novakovich said. "I wonder if the outline of the door would react to simple mechanical impulses."

"You mean we should find an edge and just push?" Soccorro asked, bewildered.

From a security point of view that probably wasn't such a good idea. No doubt this was why it had not occurred to her immediately.

Novakovich shrugged. "As good a method as any. And Crewman Namod certainly could push hard enough."

Had the man in question with them, instead of watching over Doctor Yannes, he would have squared his shoulders proudly. All that food he consumed all the time had to go somewhere.

"What's the glowing stuff on the rock?" Crewman Cooper suddenly asked.

Novakovich had been studying the contents of his PADD, and frowned up at her. "What are you talking about? There's nothing there."

"Well, there wasn't when we got here – but there is now," Cooper replied slightly nervously, and pointed.

The others followed her pointing finger and saw, indeed, a large fluorescent patch that had appeared silently and mysteriously in the lower right corner of what they supposed to be the entrance door.

"Looks like moss," Novakovich commented, now consulting his scanner. "But how can it be? I thought the planet was dead."

"Mostly dead, it seems," T'Pol corrected, also scanning the patch thoroughly. "Lesser life-forms can be dormant for a surprisingly long time; algae, mosses and fungi in particular."

"But what woke it up?" Soccorro asked.

"My guess would be: our torches." Novakovich eyed the alien moss with wary interest. "It must be a photosensitive species; which makes sense on a planet so poorly-lit as this one."

"That is a logical conclusion," the Vulcan agreed. "Take a sample, crewman, but make sure to seal the testing tube airtight. We cannot know what breathing in possible spores might do to lab personnel."

Novakovich did as he'd been told, working carefully but she could tell that it was with barely suppressed excitement. Given the human propensity for excitement, she could guess at his emotions; certainly, it was just moss, but still an alien life-form – one that nobody had seen for a hundred thousand years. Even a Vulcan scientist would have felt the discovery to be noteworthy.

"Done, Ma'am," he reported five minutes later.

"Hey!" Crewman Cooper, whom they had temporarily forgotten, called out on a note of fear. "The wall! It's opening up!"

They turned around and indeed, the outlines of the small door were now glowing weakly and the door itself slowly began to turn inwards. Beyond it a long, dark corridor became visible, with glowing patches on its rough walls similar to the one outside.

"Are we going in, Ma'am?" Novakovich asked eagerly.

"Not without security measures," Ensign Soccorro insisted before T'Pol could answer. "We should call Enterprise for reinforcements, Ma'am. More security; and perhaps some engineers, too. We must make sure the door won't fall shut behind us."

"Or one of us could stay behind and open it again," Cooper suggested.

The Security officer shook her head. "We don't know why it opened now, so we can't be sure what the mechanism is. We must secure the door safely. With the help of Starfleet technology, which we know is gonna work."

"I concur." the Vulcan flipped open her communicator. "T'Pol to Enterprise."

"Go ahead," Archer's distant voice answered.

"Captain, we have found the entrance to the cave system, but we will need a second team down here. Preferably engineering technicians and more security. We have opened the door – by accident, in truth – but we need help to keep it open. It is not large, but it appears to be heavy, and we do not know what mechanism operates it."

"One moment." The captain presumably consulted his chief engineer about the issue; then he spoke again. "Trip says he'll send you Rostov and his team. They are an innovative bunch; they'll find a solution."

T'Pol nodded to herself; she knew the team in question. "Very good, Captain. We shall expect them in half an hour then."

"Nah; Trip wants to test the transporter," the captain replied. "You can expect them in a few minutes."


According to that promise, about six minutes later they heard the high-pitched whine of the transporter beam and Crewman Rostov and his team arrived. They came well-prepared, too, carrying a couple of the heavy titanium wedges used on transport ships to secure the cargo.

"We can't know how stable that door is, of course," Mikhail Rostov explained, "but a few of these babies should do the trick."

"A very practical solution," T'Pol agreed. "Carry on, Crewman."

The engineering team didn't need any more encouragement. In a very short time, they wedged the door – if a quadrilateral piece of unhewn rock could be called a door – permanently open, and Crewman Kelly volunteered to go in with the research team as well, in case some technical support would be required.

T'Pol accepted the offer, ignoring Crewman Cooper's angry grumbling that she was a technician, thank you very much, and could deal with whatever technology they might find inside the caves. Which was not entirely untrue; she was a good enough technician, as long as she could focus on the task at hand.

Unfortunately, that was rarely the case.

The Vulcan pretended not to hear her whining; there were more pressing issues to deal with. She sent Ensign Soccorro forth – it was standard procedure to allow security to take point – and followed as second, since she had the most sophisticated equipment. Novakovich was third in line, directly followed by Julia Kelly; Cooper trailed sullenly after them.

The tunnel led them straight into a large, more or less dark cave, the first of several indicated by their scanners. To begin with, the only illumination was provided by their torches, but after a few minutes small, glowing patches – similar to those on the door – appeared all around them on the walls and the ceiling of the cave. It was an overwhelming sight.

"Amazing!" Novakovich breathed. "It looks like the Waitomo Glowworm Caves on the North Island of New Zealand – I never thought that simple moss could produce the same effect!"

"This is more than just simple moss," Soccorro said. "Look at the pattern in which they're arranged. It's almost like a star chart."

"It is a star chart," T'Pol corrected. "No natural phenomenon could possibly create an irregular pattern like this. Those are clearly stellar constellations, depicted by the means of photosensitive moss; an ingenious solution."

"I can't recognize any of those constellations, though," Novakovich complained.

"Neither can I," the Vulcan replied, "but that is not surprising. What we are seeing here is most likely what the skyscape looked like – seen from the surface of this planet – a hundred thousand years ago. We must make extensive records and compare them with the historical star charts in the database. That way we might be able to define how the positioning of the stars had changed between the creation of the cave and the present date."

Without waiting for instructions, Novakovich pulled out a holocamera and began systematically recording the living, glowing star chart.

After he was done – which took some time – they went on to the next cave. It was somewhat smaller than the first one; and here, too, the photosensitive moss began to glow on the walls as soon as they entered with their torches.

This time, however, the glowing patches formed oddly decorative symbols.

"Iconian lettering," T'Pol declared, switching her scanner to recording mode. "Perhaps we can make sense of them with the help of the historic database; or Gerasen Gerasal can read them. Crewman Novakovich, continue with the rest of the team to the next cave. I will follow you when I have finished here."

Ensign Soccorro hurried forward in case Novakovich would need protection. Dead world or not, regulations clearly dictated that no-one should enter unknown territory without back-up. Cooper followed them, uninvited, while Kelly remained with the Vulcan. Again, regulations dictated this.

Barely had the rest of the team left when T'Pol's communicator beeped.

"Novakovich here," the excited voice of the young scientist said. "Ma'am, I think you really need to see this."

"On my way." She pressed her scanner into Julia Kelly's hands. "Take over for me, Crewman."

Kelly simply nodded and continued with the scan while T'Pol walked to join the rest of the team in the next cave. This one looked… well, the best comparison would have been a strange mix between a botany lab and the zoology exhibition of some alien museum.

The walls were covered by translucent half-globes that looked like glass but were, in fact, made of some sort of thin membrane – whether of plant or animal origin, it would have been hard to tell without a thorough examination. Some of them were small, barely the size of tennis balls, others larger than the head of a grown man. In each of them was a conserved specimen of various species, not one of which any of the Enterprise crew had ever seen before.

In the middle of the cave stood a long, low table made of the same rock as the cave itself; the only difference was that it was smooth and polished, with container boxes cut into its surface, which was covered with that transparent membrane again. Under the transparent covering a series of oddly-shaped dishes could be seen – perhaps the Elachi equivalent of Petri dishes and test tubes. Some of them were empty, others still contained samples of unknown origin.

"What the hell is this?" Novakovich asked with a frown. "Some sort of lab?"

Soccorro shook her head. "Unlikely. That would mean these… things had been sitting here for a hundred thousand years. Is living tissue supposed to keep that long?"

"Not according to our current level of scientific knowledge," T'Pol replied. "However, we cannot know for certain how advanced Elachi technology actually was."

"Or has become in the meantime," Novakovich said, consulting his readings. "'Cause this stuff here isn't any older than four hundred years, tops."

For a moment the surprise silenced everyone.

"But – but wasn't he planet supposed to be dead?" Cooper burst out.

Novakovich shrugged. "It is dead… save for the photosensitive moss. That doesn't mean somebody couldn't have used it as an extensive lab from time to time. In fact, a mostly dead world would provide a much cleaner environment than an inhabited one. Better for the test results, in any case."

"Four hundred years seem to be a bit long for a gap between two experiments, though," Soccorro commented.

T'Pol shook her head. "Not necessarily. It depends on the nature of the experiment… and on the average life expectation of the people doing the experiment."

Novakovich frowned. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean, ma'am."

"The Elachi were known as a long-lived species," she explained patiently. "We know very little about their life cycles, but it appears from this evidence that they have returned to this place periodically for some reason."

"Could it be that they have to return to their planet of origin to procreate?" he asked thoughtfully. "Certain species have to do that, too… return to their birthplace, I mean. Salmon, for example."

"There are no data about the procreation method of the Elachi," T'Pol admitted. "Your theory has its merit, Crewman; but we need to find actual evidence that they – or anyone else – has indeed visited the planet during the last four hundred years." She flipped open her communicator. "T'Pol to Dr Yannes. Doctor, have you found any sign of spacecraft landing on the planet?"

"Negative," the Centaurian scientist replied. "If there has been anyone, they either had transporter technology or landed in some other area of the continent."

"Or underwater," Mayweather added, in the background.

"Well, if the Shroomies were here, we can count out the transporter," Soccorro commented. "If they had the technology, they wouldn't have boarded Enterprise via shuttlecraft."

"Not necessarily," argued Kelly, who had briefly interrupted her scans and joined them "They might not have wanted to take the risk of beaming into an unknown environment."

"Besides," Novakovich added, "we still don't know if the Shroomies and the Elachi are the same species or not."

"True," the Vulcan said. "We will have our answer once we have compared the samples left behind by the invaders of Enterprise with the ones we can collect here. In order to collect those samples safely, however, we will need hazmat suits. Photosensitive moss is one thing; handling conserved tissue samples of complex organisms can be more risky."

The others nodded in agreement and T'Pol contacted Enterprise to ask for the necessary equipment – and for even more reinforcements. It seemed that they would have work to do for at least another couple of hours yet.


Half an hour later another Away Team – consisting of security officers, and engineering technicians – arrived via shuttlepod, carrying hazmat suits, more airtight containment boxes and scanning equipment. T'Pol sent them forward to continue exploring the cave system; she wanted to know if it had another exit somewhere. Her own team, in the meantime, put on the hazmat suits and began with the collecting of tissue samples.

"I suggest that we start with the covering from this lab table, assuming it is one," Dr Yannes said. "Hopefully, the samples still there won't become contaminated."

"Unfortunately, there is a fifty per cent chance of that," the Vulcan replied. "Our very presence here may already have contaminated the cave with germs harmless for us but potentially deadly for any local species."

"We did not expect to find here anything that could be harmed," pointed out Dr Yannes.

"True. But since we cannot transport the entire table, we will have to take that risk. We must also work quickly, to shorten the time of our own exposure as much as possible."

"Do you believe we are at risk, despite the hazmat suits?" Novakovich asked in surprise.

T'Pol suppressed the very un-Vulcanlike urge to shrug. Humans were hopeless when it came to taking all possible aspects under simultaneous consideration.

"We are dealing with unknown technology here, Crewman, developed by a largely unknown species. We simply cannot know if our protection will prove to be adequate or not."

"Let's use a laser scalpel," Dr Yannes suggested. "I'll cut the covering away and Crewman Novakovich can collect the samples while you do the scanning."

T'Pol found that a logical suggestion and they set to work while Crewman Kelly returned to the previous cave where she still needed to finish recording the Iconian inscriptions.

Neither Novakovitch nor any of the others paid close attention to Crewman Cooper, who was wandering around the cave… lab… whatever. She, too, was wearing a hazmat suit but had pulled off the headpiece, probably finding it too stifling, and was examining the transparent half-globes on the wall.

She stopped beside one of the larger ones, peering at it as though she though she made out the shape of something familiar inside.

"Hey, Ethan!" she called out to him, poking at the elastic shell with an ungloved hand. "Isn't this a baby Shroomie in here or what?"

Novakovich looked up… and blanched at the sight.

"No, Gwen, don't!" he cried out in alarm. "We don't know how strong those things are!"

But it was already too late. The slightly leathery skin of the half-globe burst under Cooper's hand like a balloon when touched by a burning match and the specimen within dropped out – right into her face. She swatted at it reflexively, and the thing, whatever it had been, exploded into a small cloud of dust. She let out a high-pitched scream that would have shattered glass had there been any – and then fell to the floor and started convulsing violently.

For a moment everyone froze and stared at their shipmate in shock. Novakovich was the first one to recover.

"Dammit!" he swore. "Subcommander, we must order a Level Two quarantine. We can't allow anyone without protection to enter this cave. And we can't have Cooper return to Enterprise via shuttlepod, not even in a hazmat suit."

"Agreed." T'Pol took out her communicator to contact the ship.


Crewman Cooper was sedated heavily and beamed up to Enterprise, where a Level Five force field had hastily been raised around the transporter platform to prevent any possible contamination. Even so, Crewman Haynem, the engineering technician operating the transporter, had been ordered to put on a hazmat suit – just in case. Also, the captain ordered that the immediate area of the ship surrounding the transporter should be cleared and isolated.

"Transport complete," Haynem reported to the Bridge. "Force field in place and holding. What now, sir?"

"Get out of there but set the force field to collapse in two minutes," the voice of Tucker answered. "Once you've left, we're gonna lower the temperatures to the freezin' point; hopefully, that will turn any possible germs inactive long enough for the med techs to put Cooper into a stasis tube and take her to the decon chamber… if we're real lucky."

"Understood, sir." Jeff Haynem carried out his orders and left the transporter chamber in a hurry.

Ten minutes later two medical technicians in protective gear came running with a gurney, to which a cylindrical stasis unit with a transparent lid was fastened. Instead of simple hazmat suits, they were wearing the light version of the regular space suits, the ones that would not be enough during space walks but that would protect them from the freezing temperatures in the transporter chamber.

"All corridors between here and the decon chambers have been evacuated," Dr Phlox told them via their helm communicators. "You can go in now; and do hurry up. The shorter the exposure, the lesser the chance to catch something that is indifferent to extreme cold. Besides, I would prefer to expose Crewman Cooper to such temperatures for as short a time as possible."

"Acknowledged," Medical Technician Makhlouf looked at his colleague Tamras. "Let's go in, shall we?"

She nodded and keyed in the opening code – in emergency mode the slide doors couldn't be opened by simply pushing a button. Then they rushed in and put Cooper into the stasis tube within two minutes. All that training at Starfleet Medical apparently paid off; they could do things like this in their sleep.

"We're done here," Makhlouf reported in. "On our way to Decon Chamber One. You can start with the decontamination of the transporter, Commander."

"The sooner the better," they heard the chief engineer muttering. "I just hope our decon measures will be enough."


The two medical technicians hurried down the empty corridor with the gurney as fast as they dared. No-one knew if Cooper had been contaminated with anything, and if so what it had been, but the thought of being potentially exposed to something unknown was not a pleasant one. They were both relieved when they reached the decon area and could push the gurney into the larger room.

Decon Chamber #1 served both as a quarantine area and an isolation lab, its main purpose being to treat crewmembers who got infested with alien germs, parasites… whatever. Medical personnel could work in there as in a normal examination room and put the adjoining lab to good use while still keep the other medical areas safe.

Dr Phlox and Medical Technician Yee were already waiting for their patient, in full hazmat gear.

"We'll take over from here," the Denobulan said. "Go to Decon Chamber Two and run the full program before getting out of those suits. After that, you should be safe."

They ought to be. Space suits provided a completely closed environment for the person wearing them.

"Let's use the medical scanners of the isolation lab to take the first readings," Phlox ordered Crewman Yee. "Doctor Yannes will join us as soon as she's back on board, but we can gather a lot of data in the meantime."

The medical technician nodded, and they started working.

"That's odd," she commented, after the first sequence of scans had run its cycle. "I'm seeing here something that isn't supposed to be part of the human metabolism."

"Let me see." The Denobulan stepped closer, frowning at the readings. "You're right. These seem to be spores of some sort."

"Could she have inhaled them when that… thing exploded into her face?" Yee asked.

The doctor shrugged. "She most likely did; but that doesn't explain why these spores are so active inside her body. We've put her in cryogenic suspension. Her body should be inactive."

"It is… mostly," his assistant pointed out. "But since the spores ain't a natural part of her, they could have a much higher tolerance to extreme temperatures. Which can only mean one thing…"

"…that she was definitely infested with something," Phlox finished for her. "The question is: what was it and what is it going to do to her."


"The presence of spores could mean algae, moss or fungi; possibly ferns, too, although we haven't seen any down there," Dr Yannes summarised their meagre finding for the senior officers a couple of hours later. "We don't know what exactly those conserved specimen were and we can't go down to collect more samples. Thanks to Crewman Cooper, the whole cave system is contaminated."

She seemed to consider that fact a personal affront; but again, she was a xenobiologist and the accident had just robbed her of the chance to study a previously unknown biotope. Scientists tended to take such things personally.

"What we do know," she continued, bringing her burgeoning anger under control, "is that it was some sort of genetics lab; whether for simple research purposes or whether they were trying to modify certain indigenous species – or to create brand new ones – is unclear."

The humans present shuddered in unison; but they were prejudiced against genetic improvements due to their fairly recent, horrendous experiences during the Eugenics Wars. Gerasen Gerasal, on the other hand, approached the problem from a more scientific point of view.

"Can you specify what the spores are doing to Crewman Cooper's body?" she asked.

The Centaurian doctor shook her head. "I have nothing conclusive to report… yet. It appears, however, that something is happening to her on a molecular level. Something that isn't supposed to happen within a human body."

"Please, specify," T'Pol requested.

The xenobiologist shook her head again. "I cannot. All I can tell is that there are chemical processes happening that no mammal – or indeed no animal-based life form – should be capable of. Only plant life. And even of plant life only the lesser forms."

"The ones procreating by the way of spores," the Vulcan concluded logically.

Dr Yannes nodded. "Exactly. If it didn't sound like bad science fiction, I'd say those spores are changing Crewman Cooper's DNA – but that is impossible."

"Actually, it is not," the Viseeth said grimly. "I have finished reviewing the data provided by the historical databases about the Elachi. It appears that their reproductive process involves infecting common humanoid species with fungal spores that gradually consume the host body and coalesce into a newborn Elachi. The process effectively kills the previous owner of the body and creates a new mind."

"What?" several human officers asked in unison. Even Dr Phlox seemed a bit shocked.

Gerasen Gerasal nodded. "What is even worse, due to the genetically encoded racial memory of the species, each new individual created this way is born with the full general knowledge of the Elachi… although being born is not the correct term for the process, of course."

"Semantics!" Archer waved impatiently. "Are you telling me that Crewman Cooper is turning into one of those Shroomies?"

"That is an extremely crude simplification of the problem but yes, it is a distinct possibility, Captain," Phlox said. "We can't be sure that's what is actually happening, but we can't exclude the possibility, either. We'll have to wait for further symptoms to emerge."

"What kind of symptoms?" the captain asked.

The Denobulan shrugged. "That's the problem, Captain; we don't know. Nobody has ever witnessed the process – well, nobody who'd have lived to take notes, that is. We'll be the first."

"Forgive me for my lack of enthusiasm, Doctor," Archer said dryly, "but this is one scientific achievement I could have lived without. Can we be sure by now that the Shroomies invading our ship were, in fact, Elachi?"

"We are still running the analysis," Dr Yannes answered. "The samples we've brought back from Gamma Ventris IV are numerous, but – unfortunately – some of them got contaminated when Crewman Cooper caused that… that container, I believe would be the best word for it, to burst. So far we can only prove certain genetic similarities between the two species. But, as I said, we are still working on it."

"We must not forget that one hundred thousand years is a long time," the Vulcan added. "There could have been mutations… especially if the Elachi as a race have lived in alien environments during this time and were forced to adapt."

"Fungus-based life forms are usually good at that sort of thing," Dr Phlox agreed. "Even complex ones."

"Why did they have to return to Gamma Ventris IV in order to procreate, then?" Tucker asked. "Wouldn't that make them extremely vulnerable?"

The Denobulan shook his head. "I don't think that's the case. My theory would be that the lab we found contained preserved genetic samples in case they needed to refresh the gene pool; nothing less, nothing more."

"You mean like a gene bank?" Archer clarified, and the doctor nodded.

"Exactly. I imagine that from time to time they would return to keep tab on potential mutations – or to correct them."

"In which case we might just have dealt their entire species a death blow by destroying the lab." Dr Yannes looked disturbed by the thought of having caused accidental genocide. "The fact that it was an accident does not change the eventual outcome."

Lieutenant Reed, who had been listening to the scientific conversation with a slightly bored air so far, shook his head.

"I doubt that a species that has prevailed this long would have made the tactical error of putting all their eggs in the same basket," he said. "In fact, I'm quite certain that they have a lot of such labs scattered over the known galaxy. Besides, who can tell for certain that all they were doing down there was merely done for the furthering of their species?"

"What else would they have the lab for?" Dr Yannes frowned.

"Infiltration," Reed answered promptly. "They procreate by transforming other species into their own. Who can say that the transformed individuals won't keep their original memories? In which case the Elachi can learn a great deal about us by merely collecting Crewman Cooper once her transformation is complete."

"I seriously doubt they're gonna learn all that much from Cooper of all people," the chief engineer commented cynically.

Reed, however, shook his head. "Think about it, Commander: she may be somewhat scatter-brained, but she is a Starfleet-trained maintenance technician. Her brain contains a great deal of technical data about Starfleet ships in general and about Enterprise in particular. Knowledge that could make us extremely vulnerable."

"So what are you suggesting?" the captain asked. "Should we simply execute one of our own just because she might become a threat?"

His chief of security gave him a grim look. "Are you certain that she's still one of our own, sir? Because if I understand correctly what I've learned today, she might be on her way to become one of them."

"Or she might just have a fungal infection; although I admit that the chance for that is slim," Dr Phlox replied in Archer's stead. "I suggest complete isolation and constant observation, Captain, until we can be sure what's really happening."

"And once we are sure, then what?" Archer asked.

The usually kindly face of the Denobulan was uncharacteristically grim. "I'm afraid the decision would be yours alone, Captain. The burdens of command."

"I was afraid you'd say something like that," Archer said sourly. "Very well; keep me informed. We'll cross that bridge when we reach it."

~TBC~