Paint and Powder

A Star Trek anthology by Andrew Joshua Talon

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan based work of prose. Star Trek: The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager et al are the property of CBS Television, and creation of Gene Roddenberry. Please support the official release.

Cerritos

No Small Parts 2

Cerritos had warped in to try and help the Solvang... And now she was in a trap sprung by her sister's killers. They'd already ripped off one of her nacelles, and were boarding her to try and kill her crew.

Yeah. Cerritos wasn't having any of that.

"Cerritos!" Carol called out, fighting off two Pakled warriors with one of their polearms, "assessment of the Pakled ship!"

"Hang on, my systems are damaged," Cerritos apologized. She reached a holographic hand over into Rutherford's head, and the ensign yelped. "Stay chill, Rutherford... I'm just using your implants to help..."

"Gahhh...!"

"Oh stop whining you big baby!" Cerritos scolded. "Aha... Okay! I've tapped into the Pakled ship, and...!"

She opened her eyes in the Borderlands. Her own "desktop" was behind her-A peaceful ranch in Southern California, far from the city.

In front of her... Cerritos covered her mouth as she fought back the digital equivalent of vomit.

It was a discombobulated, cacophony of horrors. Mechanical, organic and everything in between had been shoved together into a barely functioning life support system. Pipes, wires, EPS conduits, fiber optics-It was all combined in a form that only a spiteful child or a demented madman could fathom worked.

And at the center... Was a brightly smiling AI shipgirl. She had a Bolian's arm, and two more on the other side from a Pendrosan, a Klingon's mouth, a Romulan haircut, a Tellarite belly, eyes from an Aenar, a leg from a Tholian, the other three legs from Cardassians and Bajorans, ... And then those features shifted around, including an Edosian in the mixture. Drool poured down her chin as she gazed on Cerritos with mismatched eyes.

"H̶͖̱̹͙̘̒̄͒̇͝ḙ̴̛͙̰̞̳̂̌͊̀̓l̶̛̞͙̞̗̥̽̍͊̌l̵̛̺̝͎͍̈́͒̍͜͝ð̴̡͚̼̼̺͛̓̾́̋ ̶͇͎̬̮̖̋̐̒͒̓§̵̻͖̬͇̮̀͋̅̆͘ï̸̱̜̹͎̟̈͆̈́̏̽§̵̪̜̠͉̗̋̿̀͋͝†̸̬̥̮̺̲͂͗͛̓̚ȩ̴̛̛̯̫͕͙̂͊̏́r̵̨̛͚̱̦͈̈́͆̆̚!̶̧̪̗͕͉̆̿̎̄̚ ̵̢̰̣̝̗̊̏̌̉̈́W̸̢̺͔̹͓͑̾̆͛͠ð̷͇̻̖͔̮̈̓̅͊̚µ̴̢̱͇̯̙̊͐́͂̒l̴̲͈͙̜͙̀̆̄͝͝Ð̶̧͕͈̫̜̏̏̽͊̚ ̸̡͈̳͇͖̋͋̀̓͠¥̷͔͓̞̰͎̊̈͗̎͛ð̵͔̥͈̙͖̅̓͆̎̈́µ̶̘͈̗͇̦̑̍̿͂̇ ̸̼̩̦̥͓̽̎͐̓̍j̸̜̙͈̫͐̃͐̈́͆͜ð̴̹̖̮͚̘̇͆͛͘͠ï̷̧̛̗̩͔͕̊̅̅̐ñ̷̯̼̘̙̺͑̇͋̍̊ ̴̧̣̯̜̫̆̒̍̚͘w̸̢̛̗͙̘͖͗̋̀́ï̵̪͍̞̥̄̎͑̑͠ͅ†̶̰̳̗̹̟͗̐͑̀͒h̴̢̢̦̥̔̈̆̏͝ͅ ̴̛̛͈̤̮̞̫͂̀͐m̵̰̹̬̟̼̆̓̑̎̚ê̴̲͙̻̖̊́̓̾͘͜?̸͖͔̬̰̪̂̏̑̽̕" She asked.

Cerritos screamed and hit the abomination with every cyberattack she knew of, before cutting the connection. She returned to her shipboard avatar, breathing hard, as her crew continued to fight off the Pakled invaders.

"Cerritos? Cerritos! You okay?!" Carol shouted.

"N-No, no, she's really not," Rutherford mumbled, also shuddering. Cerritos winced-He'd seen the same things she had.

"Yeah. I tried to access the other ship's AI but..." She shuddered. "It was... Nauseating!"

"Yeah, it's a rough amalgamation of other ship's OSes," Rutherford mused... His eyes widened. "But it has no real protection! It's open architecture-! We can access it!"

"Right! Cerritos?" Carol ordered. Cerritos nodded.

"Aye sir!"

She tried to reactivate the connection... And got nothing.

"Uh oh," she mumbled.

"What's uh oh?!" Captain Freeman demanded, throttling a Pakled warrior with Ransom's help.

"I think that-" She saw a subspace transceiver float by the window, pulled by a grappler from the Pakled ship, "they took my transceiver! Bastards!"

"Then I guess we'll have to do this the hard way," Freeman grumbled. "Shaxs?!"

"On it, captain!" The big Bajoran shouted, dragging Rutherford off. Cerritos flickered, and staggered. Boimler reached out to her.

"Are-Are you going to be okay, Cerritos?!" He asked urgently. Cerritos looked up behind Boimler-A gigantic Pakled was rearing up, lifting his spear to kill Boimler. She flickered through Boimler, and stuck her holographic hand into the Pakled's chest. Using the variable permeability of her forcefields, she squeezed... And crushed his heart from the inside. The Pakled fell, dying. Cerritos turned back to the astonished Boimler, and nodded.

"Better than these bastards!"