Blood and Ice

by Soledad

Author's notes:

For disclaimer, rating, etc., see the Foreword.

Chapter Four – Discovery

The room behind the door was the morgue indeed, with desiccated corpses, like that of the late Captain Ahrens, lying on the autopsy tables. It was a mixed group of men and women, about a dozen of them, wearing torn and scorched duty uniforms of all three ship's divisions – very obviously dead.

The mummification process seemed to be fairly advanced; again, just like in the dead captain's case. The sight was not pretty. The only difference between them and their deceased commanding officer was that the fingers of these corpses were covered in blood… in green blood.

As if they had just torn somebody to shreds, before falling back into some sort of catatonic state. Somebody with copper-based blood.

Carli turned abruptly away, fell to hir knees and became violently ill. Not even having seen the dead captain attack Ryker repeatedly had prepared hir for this sight. Worf, whose nonexistent Klingon sensibilities were not bothered by a little blood – or by a lot of blood, for that matter – growled something about weaklings not belonging into an Away Team under his breath, while eyeing poor Carli with the deepest possible contempt.

That earned him a sharp kick in the shin from Hernandez; so unexpected and vicious that he cried out in pain.

That, in turn, startled the others, and in the ensuing chaos, while everyone tried to figure out what was possibly happening, and Daro was making half-hearted efforts to soothe their upset medic, no one realized that the dead crewmembers were slowly getting to their feet, shuffling towards them in a badly coordinated, puppet-like manner – however, with alarming speed… for desiccated corpses anyway.

Geordi was the first to notice the danger, his VISOR alerting him about the movement of the bloody group, even though he was not consciously monitoring the room.

"Commander," he said through gritted teeth, blanching to an alarming shade of grey, "we're having a problem."

Ryker whirled around – and stopped as he saw the shock troop of the undead advancing towards them. He simply froze. After a decade and a half in Starfleet, this was something he'd not been prepared to deal with.

Fortunately for him, Hernandez' reflexes were not lamed by the terrifying sigh. She grabbed Ryker with one hand and tossed him unceremoniously out of the morgue, while firing her phaser in the overall direction of the… well, the zombies. Urban legend or not, there was no better word to describe the nightmarish creatures that had not so long ago been the Copernicus crew.

"Retreat!" she shouted. "Daro, pick up Carli. Data, cover the commander and Geordi. Worf, you with me!"

The Rigelian took his orders quite literally. He bodily picked up Carli, who'd just finished being sick, and threw hir over his shoulder, ignoring hir weak protests.

"Shut up and try to find hold on me," he said. "I might need both hands. Any idea where we should run?"

"The chief medical officer's private office is twenty point seven metres down the corridor," Data told him, dragging a still petrified Ryker after himself. "If we make it there and seal the doors behind us, the Enterprise will be able to beam us out later."

"Go!" Hernandez yelled. "We'll cover you."

She picked up Ryker's phaser that had fallen to the floor from the nerveless hand of their executive officer and was now aiming both weapons at the zombies simultaneously, while trying to scurry backwards as fast as she could without falling over. On her side, Worf tried to do the same. Assessing the situation, Daro gave the zombies a parting shot, and then dashed off after the android, Carli still dangling from his shoulder like an overripe fruit, holding onto the fabric of his uniform for dear life.

The Rigelian's shot failed to hit any of their undead pursuers squarely in the chest. It did, however, graze sideways one of the men wearing the rags of a blue sciences uniform, disintegrating one of his arms. The large, scorched wound caused by the shot was oozing that strange alien fluid that had replaced the man's blood, but it hadn't even slowed him down.

"Run!" Hernandez shouted in Worf's direction, her voice an octave higher than her usual pitch.

She was firing randomly into the approaching mass of dead bodies, without much effect. Running backwards tended to make one's aim less than perfect – even if one was Macha Hernandez, arguably the best shot in Starfleet Security. A calm, analytical part of her brain – yes, she did have such abilities, thank you very much, how else would she have managed to become Chief of Security aboard the Enterprise, of all ships? – was already planning some very advanced training methods that would prove helpful in similar situations.

Assuming that they survived the current mission, she added, while they were running for their lives.

To make things worse than they already were, Worf stumbled over something, lost his footing and fell onto his ass. Then, checking what it was that had brought him to fall, he threw his head back and released a howl so full of rage that even the zombies seemed to freeze for a second or two.

Surprised by that reaction – one she had only heard from him once – Hernandez risked a quick glance over her shoulder… and needed all her considerable willpower not to throw up on the spot, although she'd seen her fair share of horrible things in her eighteen years with Starfleet Security.

Worf had stumbled over Baldor's body. Or rather what was left of Baldor's body: a badly mutilated corpse, half-covered in the shreds of her security uniform, drenched in green blood.

The Romulan's limbs had been torn out of their sockets; her had was tilted in a highly unusual angle – most likely a result of her neck having been broken – her face barely recognizable due to the multiple claw marks.

This was not the body of someone killed by a hostile alien. Or even by an entire group of hostile aliens. This was the body of someone mauled by a wild animal. Or rather by a whole pack of wild animals.

Hernandez, not taking her eyes off the pursuing undead, picked the comm badge from Baldor's uniform and tossed it to Worf.

"You can apologize to her at the funeral ceremony," she said, her voice harsh. "Now run!"

Overcoming his momentary shock, Worf aimed his phaser rifle at the dead woman in a command uniform who had almost caught up with them and fired. The mummified corpse of the lieutenant commander – presumably the executive officer of the Copernicus – disintegrated, leaving a cloud of sparks in its wake.

"It's no use," Hernandez hollered. "With each one we shoot to pieces, we're just spreading the infection. Let's move on!"

They turned around and ran, speed being the main issue there, with the remaining zombies in hot pursuit. For a moment, Hernandez almost panicked; she could not remember what Data had said where the CMO's office was. In fact, she ran past it, when a door on her left opened and the android yanked her into the room.

Daro did the same with Worf.

"Seal the doors," Ryker panted, sounding just a little bit hysterical. "Quickly, before they could break through!"

Worf and Daro followed his orders, using their phaser rifles to weld the slide doors closed. Carli, having partially recovered, sat down behind the semi-circular desk of the ship's doctor and tried to get access to the medical logs.

"Unlike the other equipment in sickbay, this console seems undamaged," s/he muttered absent-mindedly. "But it's cut off from the energy flow, due to the ship-wide system failures. Mr LaForge, do you think we could hook up one of the tricorders to it, so that it would provide minimal energy? Just enough to download the medical logs."

"What do you hope from that?" Ryker asked in surprise.

"Well, sir, if we can find out how this… his epidemics started, it might help us to find a way to end it," Carli pointed out logically.

"Perhaps," Ryker allowed. "It's worth a shot anyway. Geordi, is there anything you can do to help with it?"

"The thing with the tricorder won't work," LaForge replied, thinking furiously. "The energy cell is too weak to power up the console."

"What about one of the phaser power cells?" Hernandez suggested. "We can spare one weapon if we have to."

LaForge shook his head. "Nah, they're not compatible. They would burn out the circuits completely. But perhaps…"

"The torches!" Data said, already taking his from his utility belt. "If we hook up all our torches to the console, their energy will reactivate the medical computer for about twelve point three seconds."

"And that will be enough to download the medical logs into a tricorder?" Ryker asked rather doubtfully.

"Not into a tricorder," Data replied. "They are not fast enough for that. We will download the logs directly into my brain and transfer the information to Ensign Carli's medical tricorder afterwards."

Ryker frowned. "How are you gonna do that?"

"With the help of a simple interface cable," Data looked around for said item. "This place has not been smashed, so there should be one somewhere."

"Assuming the Engineering staff has done its job properly," LaForge muttered, climbing under the console where all sorts of ersatz parts should have been stored for possible emergencies… in theory, at least. A short time later he was emerging again, with a triumphant grin plastered all over his face. "It seems that they have."

He waved a bunch of wires and cables at them. "C'mon, Data, let's do this. Carli, would you mind collecting all torches for me?"

Carli didn't, obviously, and the two with the technical know-how want down to their complicated task with great concentration, while Hernandez and Worf took up defensive positions, aiming their phasers at the sealed doors, just in case.

That the precaution had not been unnecessary was proven soon enough. Barely had Data and LaForge started the delicate wiring process, there was a loud thump on the door. Then another. Then another. Then more and more, in no particular rhythm, as if a bunch of enraged zombies had been banging the metal with their fists.

Which, most likely, was exactly what was happening outside.

"Will they be able to break through the doors?" Carli whispered, hir fear palpable, and who could blame hir? The undead creatures, not a day ago regular Starfleet officers just like them, were terrifying.

"That is unlikely," Daro replied, squeezing hir hand soothingly; the two were standing awfully close anyway, closer than the situation would require, Ryker found. "These doors are very hard to break; and we've sealed them, remember?"

"But we can't know what kind of strength they've developed due to the infection," Carli reminded him. S/he might have been terrified, but s/he was a medical professional to the bone. "If they're turning into a different species, there's no telling what they'd be capable of."

"Don't worry too much," the Rigelian briefly groped the little alien's backside. "Whatever may happen, I'll protect you. I promise."

Unlike a human crewmember who'd have interpreted Daro's gesture as harassment, Carli seemed to find the intimate touch comforting. Which made Ryker wonder about the customs on hir planet. Of course, with a species that swapped gender at will, the rules of personal interaction could be fairly… adaptable.

Did that mean that Daro had a thing running with Carli, the First Officer wondered.

He was brought out of his not-quite-appropriate musings by a particularly loud bang on the door. He glanced at LaForge nervously.

"Geordi, will it take long? I'd like to arrange a beam-out for us, as soon as possible."

"Almost done, Commander," LaForge replied, checking the short line of as-yet off torches carefully. "I just need to hook Data up to the console, and then we can give it a try. Data, can you…?"

"Of course, Geordi," the android took the chair behind the desk and swivelled it around, facing away from the console.

LaForge stepped up to him, pressed his fingers against Data's skull and simply lifted a patch of synthetic skin (covered with synthetic hair), under which the blinking circuits of the android's positronic brain became visible. Well, not the brain itself; rather the complicated machinery housing it, but that was just semantics.

Ryker turned away when LaForge took one of the access cables and plugged it into the android's skull unceremoniously. He always hated this part. Yes, when it came down to the basics, Data was a machine – even though… erm… a fully functional one, as the executive officer knew of personal experience. Being hooked up to other machines was perfectly normal for him.

But he was also a friend – a friend with benefits, a mocking little voice in Ryker's head commented – and seeing him like this was like seeing someone getting their head operated on publicly.

Unaware of their commanding officer's mixed feelings, LaForge plugged the other end of the access cable into a socket on the fully computerized desk.

"Ready?" he asked.

Data nodded. "We can start."

LaForge threw the makeshift switch and all seven torches went on simultaneously. They shone for approximately twelve seconds, their light weakening gradually – then they were burned out.

"That's it," LaForge said, disconnecting them with practiced ease. "Was it enough?"

The yellow eyes of the android became unfocused for a second as he was checking the results.

"Download complete," he then replied. "If you connect me with Ensign Carli's tricorder, I can transfer the data at once."

"Hold that thought for later," Hernandez said grimly. "We've got a more urgent problem right now."

Following the line of her vision, they all could see that the sealed doors had become slightly dented under the onslaught of the determined zombies.

"But how can they do that?" Daro asked, baffled. "They're just humans… and dead humans, at that."

"Humans, under the influence of some unknown substance or hostile life form," Carli corrected. "I told you we can't predict what they'd be capable of in their current state."

"Well, I think I've seen enough, personally," Ryker said. "Time for us to blow this joint."

Nobody protested, and he touched his comm badge.

"Ryker to Enterprise, requesting an emergency beam-out, Captain. Preferably now."

There was a short, ominous pause, and then Picard's regretful voice answered.

"I'm afraid, Number One, that's not possible right now."

~TBC~