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To Be or Not To Be……

 

“They’re firing again, Sir.”  Turek calmly announced from Tactical.

“Evasive action.”Colin Becker responded immediately as two bursts of gold streaked towards Prometheus. The ship trembled slightly on impact.

“Shields holding.”

“Target their weapons and fire when ready.”

Colin watched the Vulcan carry out his command with expert efficiency, and, as another volley of weaponsfire hit them, wondered how they had gotten themselves into this mess.

The small ship had come from nowhere, appearing suddenly on sensors as it curved around the side of a small moon, charging its weapons as it streaked towards Prometheus.

“Shields down to 90%”

Their mystery opponent was a sleek black vessel-slightly smaller than a Romulan warbird-but one whose design had no recognizable match in the computer database.  Although it was no match for Prometheus in terms of firepower, it’s smaller size and design gave her a maneuverability and agility that Prometheus lacked.

“Have you had any luck raising them?” Colin glanced at Naeve Sevril, who was busily working her Ops console.

“No, Sir. They still aren’t responding to visual or audio hails.”

“Can you scan them yet?”

“I’ve been trying. Their shields incorporate a thoron field and it’s kicking up so much interference our sensors can’t penetrate.”

In other words, we can’t speak to them, we can’t scan them, and we don’t know who they are or why they’ve attacked us. Peachy.

Although Prometheus could have easily destroyed the mystery vessel, Colin was hesitant to do so. Without the means to communicate with their adversary, he couldn’t condone its destruction. Especially when it was more of an annoyance than a real danger.

“The unknown vessel’s weapons are disabled.” Turek informed him.

He paused. “They’re attempting to go to warp.”

“Target their engines.” Colin snapped.

Oh no you don’t.

Two torpedos streaked towards the vessel, exploding on impact.

“Engines are offline.”Turek announced.

“Hmm.” Naeve frowned as she studied her display before interjecting.

”They just lowered their shields. I’ll attempt to scan…”  Her voice trailed off as she continued to frown in puzzlement.

“Well? Can you identify them?” Colin asked impatiently.

 

Mark O’Conner ran his hands over the unfamiliar pictographs at what was evidently the navigation console and they lit up immediately in response to his touch.  The small bridge had one large oval console in the center of the room, with several protruding segments which most likely served as bridge stations.  There were no visible seats. Directly overhead, the lights burned brightly, encasing the bridge as well as the small ship’s entire interior in a harsh whitelight.

“Any luck with the computer?” he glanced in Rhianna Jorrell’s direction.

The chief engineer sat cross legged on the floor, facing a wall with several panels scattered about her.  With arms folded in front of her, she chewed the inside of her lip as she contemplated a section of exposed circuitry.

“Just a minute.” She murmured distractedly.

Grabbing her toolkit, she rummaged through and extracted a small object. Connecting it to a circuit board to her left, she configured the adaptive interface link to the alien computer’s specifications.

“Good.” She smiled suddenly, the act lighting up her face. “It’s accepted the link. I’m downloading the information to our computer now. It appears to be successfully translating our mystery ship’s data.  When we get back to Prometheus, maybe we’ll finally get some answers.”

A noise from the corridor caused both officers to automatically reach for their phasers.

“It’s just us, Sir.” Lieutenant Francis Doyle announced as he entered the bridge, leading a small security team.

Rhianna promptly returned her attention back to one of the bridge consoles.

“Anything, Lieutenant?” Mark asked hopefully.

The security officer shook his head. “No. This ship has only five levels and we extensively searched each one.  I can assure you there’s noone aboard.”

“Well someone was flying this thing-and shooting at us-just a half hour ago.” Mark frowned, unhappy with the results of Lieutenant Doyle’s search.

“Could they be fooling our tricorders? The shields did have a thoron field?”

Francis shook his head. “No, Sir.  We were quite thorough. There is noone aboard. “ He repeated adamantly.

“Commander!” Rhianna said sharply.

As he turned to her, the CEO looked up from the display she had been leaning over.

“I can understand some of their internal sensor readings—the programming code is similar to what the Klingons used to use.”

She paused to point at a bright blue pictograph which hummed soflty under her palm.

“I think this controls the transporters. And if I understand this sensor fluctuation, someone or a group of someones was beamed off this ship when they lowered the shields during our little firefight.”

“To where?” Mark asked eagerly.

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “The transporter was damaged somehow. I can’t decipher the coordinates.”

“Good start, Rhianna. “Mark quickly activated his commbadge.

It was time to relay their findings to the Captain.

 

Colin Becker listened without comment as his first officer explained the away team’s findings.

He was still trying to sort out what had happened to his heretofore uneventful mission. It had been quite simple, really.  Prometheus was to travel to the Davani system, a segment of space owned by the Siro—a humanoid race which was considering joining the Federation.  The Siro owned several worlds with a high content of tirlite, a mineral highly prized as a gemstone in the luxury market. Prometheus was to offer engineering technology to make the Siro’s mining operations more efficient.  Starfleet hoped this would sway the Siro into choosing the UFP to ally itself with.

This was why Colin Becker was so careful not to permanently damage or destroy the small ship which attacked them without provocation. On the fringes of Siro space, he did not want to behave in any way that might be interpreted as hostile. Especially if the crew of the mystery ship turned out to be Siroan. 

“Any luck deciphering those transporter logs.” He queried.

“Rhianna’s working on translating their computer coding. In the meantime, Daniel enhanced the sensors to scan the surrounding area to determine possible transporter destinations. Within this system, there are two planetoids capable of sustaining life. One is an arid tundra world populated with single cell organisms like bacterias—the other is a rainforest thriving with plant and insect life.” He paused.

“Daniel said he picked up faint humanoid life signs there which were unlikely to be indigent to the jungle planetoid.”

“That sounds promising.” Colin commented.

“Maybe. The atmosphere coupled with the thick rainforest canopy interfered with our ability to receive precise readings. We can’t isolate the life signs so we don’t know how many there are and our coordinates are only accurate within plus or minus two miles in either direction.”

“I assume you’ve already chosen an away team. It sounds like they need to pack comfortable shoes.”

“Actually, Lieutenant Commander Sevril volunteered to lead—if you agree.”

“Very well.” Colin nodded approvingly. “Make sure she brings a security escort. I’m anxious to learn who our friends are and why they would pick a fight with a ship that clearly outmatched their own. They’re either very brave…or very stupid.”

 

 

When Naeve Sevril rematerialized on the surface of the planetoid, the first thing she noticed was the heat. In the oppressively humid atmosphere, her tunic was already becoming damp. Wiping a trickle of sweat from the side of her face, she took a deep breath and stepped forward, narrowly avoiding snagging her boot on a thick vine hidden in the underbrush of the jungle floor.

Plus or minus two miles, Daniel said. I’ll kill him if I have to walk that far in this…oven.

Glancing over her shoulder at her companions, she warned, “Watch your step, everybody.  Let’s get this done so we can get out of here.”

Pulling out her tricorder, she swept it from side to side before her, searching for the life signs Prometheus had detected from above.

“The strongest readings are to are left.” She remarked and headed into the jungle, repeatedly stepping over tree roots and brushing aside overhanging vines.

“I have to remind myself that I actually volunteered for this mission.” She muttered.

Her companions, Seyla Ta’quith and Mirana Keset, followed wordlessly—the only sounds were those of boots crunching against the foliage on the jungle floor, and the accelerated beeping of the tricorder as they neared their quarry.

Mirana swatted at a large insect similar to a dragonfly and muttered, “I should have sent one of the medics on this mission instead. It’s so damn hot I can’t stand it.”

“Do you really feel so, Doctor?” The Klingon asked in genuine surprise.

Out of the three away team members, she was the only one without a sheen of perspiration on her face.

“I find it to be quite temperate and most….pleasant.”

Mirana snorted. “Like a summer day on Q’onos?”

Before Seyla could reply, Naeve’s tricorder bleeped quite insistently.

“According to these readings, they should be somewhere in those bushes.”

Seyla brandished her phaser and pushed in front of Naeve, wading through a small sea of hip high ferns a the base of an enormous tree trunk.  Pulling back a thick tree branch, she exposed their quarry.

As it turned out, the phaser was entirely unnecessary. The tricorder had picked up a single life sign.  Laying on the ground, face down, was a pathetic figure with his arms and legs tightly bound behind his back. 

Mirana rushed past Seyla with her medkit and kneeled over her unconscious patient, her auburn hair spilling against her cheek.  Rolling him onto his back with effort, she passed a diagnostic tricorder over his bruised and bloodied face.

Naeve contemplated him for a moment and shook her head. The puzzle was only getting larger.

Tapping her commbadge, she ordered,

“Two to beam directly to Sickbay. Dr. Keset and what appears to be…a Ferengi.”