Episode 30
Prologue
“This thing is a hell of a lot nicer now
that it doesn’t vaporize everything,” said Lucas Tompkins to Bator as they
stood before the sleek, black Phobian escape pod that had delivered Bator to
the Federation several decades ago.
Tompkins was referring to the fact that whenever he had gone to
deactivate the pod, its security protocols had prompted it to vaporize his
tools, which was quite annoying from his point of view.
Nevertheless, Bator shared his opinion. “I, too, like it better dormant,” he
said. “But it is still unsettling,” he
added a moment later. “The fact that
this thing has the power, and the will, to transmit potentially
life-threatening signals has actually helped me decide what to do with it.”
“Trash it?” Tompkins suggested.
Bator nodded. “Yes. Who knows what kind
of advanced mind control features it has?
Quite frankly, I don’t care to find out. Phobian technology is obviously too advanced for the Federation
to handle at the moment.”
“You’re right,” Tompkins agreed reluctantly. Had he not had such a bad experience with
it, he might have argued otherwise, but since it took such bold steps to
prevent its violation, he was certain the Federation wasn’t ready to learn its
secrets. “Starfleet won’t be happy
about this, you know.”
“They’ve had plenty of time to study it,”
Bator reminded him. “I’m sure they’ve
already reached the same conclusion.
And if not—it’s my escape pod.
Commander Harrison and Captain Talbot said it was mine to do with as I
please. If I choose to destroy it,
that’s my prerogative.”
“You’re right, of course,” Tompkins
admitted. “I just hope Starfleet
Command sees it that way.” Tompkins
knew how Command was about acquiring new technologies. They loved to tear them apart
piece-by-piece, and put them back together, hopefully with a better
understanding of how it worked and how to reproduce it.
But rarely did they have the opportunity to
study such an advanced piece of technology that wasn’t buried under hundreds of
meters of rock, or so old and decrepit that scanning it would break down its
chemical structure. Because of that,
the data they are able to glean from the wrecks was often little more than a
clue or a hint to point them in the right direction.
This was far more dangerous. And far more advanced. Given the growing hostilities in the Kilka
Sector, Lucas knew they would snatch up this find in an instant—and probably
vaporize every tricorder in the building trying to open the hatch. For the time, it was best to just leave it
alone…
“I’ll tell Commander Harrison we’ll need to
use a real torpedo to destroy this
thing,” said Tompkins.
Bator nodded. “The pod is composed of a silicon-copper-yttrium polymer, so the
torpedo shouldn’t require any special detonation reprogramming,” he said a
moment later.
“All right,” Tompkins said. “With any luck, in a few hours your pod will
be nothing but a few stray atoms.”
“Good.”
It was fifteen hundred hours. On any other day, this would mean very
little to Matthew Harrison. If it did,
it was probably nothing earth shattering.
But this day was different.
Exactly seven days ago, at fifteen hundred hours, Captain Christopher
and Erin Keller set out to search for their rogue class-nine probe.
According to both Christopher and Harrison’s
flight plans, the trip should have taken five days. When day six arrived, Harrison didn’t panic. He knew the Captain liked to adventure. Perhaps he and Erin had gone on one. He assured himself that the probe traveled
deeper into the inversion nebula.
That was day six. Now it was day seven. And
now he was worried. As he looked
around, Harrison noticed he wasn’t alone in his feelings. None of the crew seemed to be at their usual
ease. It was time to take action. “Mr. Johnson,” Harrison said abruptly. “I am beginning to wonder whatever happened
to our dear, beloved Captain. Is there any sign of the Dark Star on
long range sensors?”
“No,” he said instantly. Apparently, Johnson had been conducting his
own search prior to Harrison’s order.
But the first officer didn’t say anything. He simply took the news to his seat and sat on it. “But there are severe ion storms in the
region. They have greatly decreased
long range sensor efficiency.”
“Where did they go?” Harrison asked out
loud. It wasn’t exactly a rhetoric
question, but no one answered it.