by Star Trek
Star Trek: "Before Destruction!"* - An Original Novel By Michael Rossi
(Please Read the File "README.TXT" before you begin this story.)
Author's Note:
The following story takes place immediately after the
'Vintage' Trek episode entitled "Requiem for Methuselah". It
also ties into the entire Trek world, thankfully created by
the late Gene Roddenberry. Specific episodes that are referenced
prominently are: "Requiem for Methuselah", "Whom Gods Destroy",
"Day *f the Dove" and "Errand of Mercy". As with all works in the
Trek universe, this one takes a few liberties... but only a few, and
maintains the "Character" and "Spirit" that has made Trek my favorite
world of imagination. Although this story relies on past episodes,
it is independent of any other "S.T. Novel" or the contents therein.
I would like to take this time to thank the writer's of the
aforementioned episodes, and all the others who have contributed to
the world of Trek in a positive way. Specifically I wish to thank
them for showing me that, although fictional, it reflects hope, truth,
loyalty, justice, honor, faith, and love. Trek authors have boldly gone
where others have feared to tread. Tackling delicate issues of morality
and justice unflinchingly, from the very beginning. Episodic topics
have ranged from the "Cold War" to the "Bible" and have always spoken to
current issues with an underlying sense of the "right" and "wrong" of
them, or the "good" and "evil". I attribute the success of the series
not merely to the actors and crew, but to these writers who envisioned
a hopeful future, but never left the wisdom of the past.
Thank you.
Mike
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And Now:
Star Trek: "Before Destruction"*
*Star Trek is a Registered Trademark of Paramount Pictures
Copyright 1991 by Michael Rossi
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*** PROLOGUE ***
Captain James Tiberius Kirk, of the Starship Enterprise,
yielded finally to the merciful, if often elusive, hand of sleep.
Dr. Lenard McCoy had helped him on his way. His cabin was darkened
as he sat behind his desk with his head down atop folded arms.
The sleeves of his gold and black Captain's uniform were still
moist from the tears he was unable to hold back any longer. Though
asleep, he was neither at rest nor at peace. Phantasms of his
tormented heart were there to greet him as he entered the place of
his dreams.
Behind him, like a chiselled monolithic sentinel, stood the
Vulcanian Science Officer, Spock. He looked upon his Captain,
moved with a compassion he had never experienced before. Not
expressed on his face, nor seen in the fathomless depths of his
eyes, the emotion drove him, forcing him to a decision. His
logical mind did what it could to prevent him from acting, but the
force from his half-human heart was irresistible. The pain of his
Captain was now inexplicably yet undeniably his own. And then the
decision was made.
Spock, the man, moved towards his Captain, and gently placed
his fingers upon the troubled brow of his friend. He closed his
own eyes and concentrated. "Forget," he spoke to the heart of his
Captain, "Forget..."
* * *
"They will be coming..." the voice spoke out prophetically.
"How many?" came a second voice with a strange sadness in it.
"Two ships, one from either side. But only one of their
'landing parties' will descend," answered the first voice.
"Should we prevent them from approaching?" came a third voice.
"No," said the second, "It must be."
"They are fearful. They believe we have answers to their
fear," said the first.
"Perhaps they are correct but they may not wish to hear
what we have to say. For they have heard the truth from the
beginning, and are still willingly ignorant of it. The pride of
their vain imagination, their love of 'self', these are points of
their blindness. Nevertheless, we are merely messengers of the
truth, not creators of it... Let them come," spoke the second
voice.
"Let them come," agreed the third voice.
"They shall come..." prophesied the first.
PAGE A
*** ONE ***
Captain's personal log, Stardate: 5845.9.
"It has been mere hours since we have left orbit around
Holberg 917g, yet my memory of it seems to fade with our increasing
distance. Holberg, was not on our intended agenda but a necessary
break from our course, for on its surface in crude form was the
vital mineral "Ryetalyn" which when refined was the main ingredient
for a cure to Rigellian Fever. A landing party from the Enterprise
had contracted Rigellian Fever weeks ago and the virus had swept
the crew, which made our need one of desperation. Upon arrival at
the out-of-the way planet, Myself, First Officer Spock and Dr.
Leonard McCoy found the dwelling of a most amazing man."
"We found that the man, Flint, living in isolation from the
rest of the universe, had no record of ever existing on file in any
Starfleet or Federation memory banks. That is, under the name of
Flint. However, our observations of his personal possessions..."
Captain James T. Kirk sat upright in his chair. To his
astonishment, he could not recall any of his previous observations
of Flint's personal possessions. In fact, he was losing most of the
thoughts that he was sure he had only moments ago concerning the
man. He remembered the floating M-4 robot that gathered the
Ryetalyn. He remembered the end result; his crew whole again. But
there was much missing... and something painful. Something that
could burst his heart, were he able to recollect what that
'something' was.
"Captain Kirk, this is Lieutenant Uhura, please respond." The
communications speaker broke the dark silence of his cabin and
snapped Kirk's head up. The Captain blinked twice, hard, to arouse
himself out of his trance-like state of thought. He reached for
the comm button and winced at a small pain in his side.
"Kirk here; what is it, Lieutenant?"
"I have picked up a weak distress signal, Sir. I
couldn't make out anything vocally but they used the emergency
frequency with a pulse wave."
"Were you able to pin-point its origin?"
"It came from quadrant eight seventy-one, Captain. No
specific location as of yet, but I'm trying to narrow it down."
Her voice was steady, yet expressed her concern.
"Eight seventy-one? Then it hasn't reached Starbase Sixteen
yet?" He understood her concern. It was very likely that they
were the only ones who had heard the distress signal.
"No Sir. If it makes it there at all, it won't be for another
two hours. It is very weak, Captain."
PAGE 1
"Two point one three hours, Captain," Spock added, obviously
standing close to Uhura.
"Thank you Mr. Spock. Lieutenant Uhura, contact Starfleet
concerning the signal. Inform them that we are going in to locate
its origin." Kirk switched off his log recorder. "Mister Sulu?"
"Yes, Sir!" The deep voice spoke confidently.
"Set course for quadrant eight seventy-one, warp seven."
"Aye aye, Sir," replied Sulu.
Captain Kirk changed the comm channel to the intra-ship
setting. "This is Captain Kirk, all hands Yellow Alert, repeat,
Yellow Alert!"
* * *
Captain Kirk strode onto the bridge of the Starship
Enterprise. Glancing across the spacious cabin, he noted all were
at their stations doing what he knew, was their best. "What do we
have in quadrant eight seventy-one, Mr. Spock?"
The tall and lean Science Officer turned towards his Captain
placing his arms behind his back in a "parade rest" fashion. His
shiny black hair gleamed in the luminescence of the overhead
lighting. Some time ago, he could state exactly when, Spock had
committed to memory all Starbases and Federation outposts in all
quadrants. "Science Station Copernicus, Elba II, six abandoned
Dilithium mines, and the Golon Star System, Captain," he stated.
"It is, however, heavily traversed by Federation cargo barges and
privately owned freighters," he added in a formal, even tone.
"Keptin, it is only vun sector avay from the Klingon Neutral
Zone. Close enough to make a tribble squeal," said Ensign Checkov
with a suppressed smile on his face. Sulu, his companion at the
helm, didn't bother to suppress his.
"So noted Mister Checkov. Uhura, try to make contact with
Copernicus and Elba II."
Kirk took the center seat, symbol of both a Captain's power and
authority. He stared at the main view screen watching the stars
unfold. He leaned forward and rested his right elbow on the arm
of his chair, placing his chin in the palm of his hand. The bright
starscape before him was breathtaking, but even so, his mind began
to drift back to the Holberg expedition. 'Something painful?' He
went over the events again in his mind; Rigellian fever, Holberg
917g, Ryetalyn, the M-4 robot, Flint, bruised ribs. 'Bruised
ribs?' Jim Kirk put his hand to his side. He could feel the Flexi-
truss under his shirt, and realized he did indeed have bruised ribs,
but try as he might, he could not recall a single detail about how
they came to be that way.
PAGE 2
"Captain," Uhura spoke softly.
Jim snapped his head up, realizing he was brooding in front of
his crew. 'They all get paranoid when I brood.' He thought to
himself, and spoke, "Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Science Station Copernicus confirms their reception of the
distress signal."
"Did they locate the source?" He swiveled his chair to face
the beautiful, dark skinned communications officer.
"It's coming through now, Sir." She placed her hand to her
ear to block out the various sounds emanating from the bridge.
"There seems to be some kind of interference, Sir. I can't make
out their message. Possibly they are experiencing a solar flare or
something releasing a large amount of energy in their quad."
"Mister Spock?" He turned to his First Officer.
"Analyzing, Captain." The Vulcan bent over his science
station's instrument panel. "Unsure, Captain. As the Lieutenant
pointed out, there is a vast dispersal of energy between Copernicus
and our present course heading. However, from the effect it is
having on the subspace channel, I would hypothesize that it is an
unnatural event."
"I have it now, Sir," Uhura said. "Copernicus reports they
have identified the source code of the distress call. It came from
a space-vessel named the 'Fringe Ranger', in the immediate vicinity
of Elba II."
"The Fringe Ranger? Spock, search the records and let me
know what information you can find on it." Kirk returned his chair
to its foreword position. "Alter course for Elba II, Mister Sulu."
"Aye, Sir."
The turbo-lift opened with a 'swoosh'. Dr. McCoy in his
blue medical uniform, stepped out silently. He looked down to the
man in the center seat. McCoy had been and continued to be
concerned with Jim's emotional state. Deep depression in anyone
can hinder judgement and cause abnormal actions and reactions. In
a Starship Captain, the consequences escalate exponentially. In
worst cases, it could jeopardize the safety of the crew. But it
was Jim Kirk, his friend, whom he worried about. "Sickbay is
ready, Jim." The Doctor rested on the upperdeck's arm-rail. "How
soon till we know any more?"
"Soon. We are on course for Elba II, Doctor. I trust you are
equally prepared to minister to their specific needs as well?"
Elba II had been the only mental institution in the Federation for
the criminally insane for nine years.
"I'm prepared for every contingency. Which reminds me, I have
PAGE 3
a special prescription prepared for you in my cabin when you can
find the time."
"One of your '100 Proof' remedies?" Jim said, hoping it wasn't
a sneaky ploy to get him close enough to sickbay to give him a
physical. "I'll have to pass until this is taken care of, Bones."
Spock turned from his station's computer console, "Captain,
the Fringe Ranger is a decommissioned Yeager-Class cruiser with a
complement of thirty-seven officers and crew, now carrying supplies
to frontier colonies and Starfleet outposts. It was apparently
enroute to Elba II. I have also analyzed her distress signal
with interesting results." Kirk nodded for him to continue. "The
signal appears to have been sent prior to the phenomena causing the
subspace disturbance, and I estimate a 97.43 probability that it was
being jammed from close proximity."
"Jammed?" Kirk rose from his chair and moved to the science
station. He observed the readings indicating that it was so. The
flattened waves and distorted peaks of the line image looked very
much like a jammed signal.
"Who would jam a distress call in Federation space?" the
doctor asked no-one in particular.
"As Mr. Checkov pointed out earlier, we are not far from the
Klingon Neutral Zone, and pirates have been known to be operative
in this sector. Mr. Sulu, precautionary Red Alert. Mr. Checkov,
Screens up, charge phasers," the Captain ordered.
The alert claxon sounded, causing the crew's adrenal glands to
surge in preparation for the emergency tasks they so often were
required to perform. Ignorance was the greatest cause of fear among
the battle-ready members. Not knowing the situation causing the
alert allowed their minds to race in all directions. The Captain
had been on the other end of command, and understood his crew's need
for information.
"Kill the claxon, Mr. Sulu." Jim returned to his c
hair,
standing next to it, and again pressed the intra-ship comm. "This
is the Captain speaking. We are on a rescue mission, but have
cause to believe there may be enemy involvement. It may be a false
alarm, but stay sharp. Kirk out."
The sensor panel by Spock crackled with electricity then
exploded, to the surprise of everyone. Before Spock could ascertain
the reason for this, the Enterprise was hit hard by some powerful
but unseen force. The ship rocked and vibrated, pitching those
standing to the floor and causing several more overloads on the
sensor panel. Sparks flew and smoke billowed from the unit's side
vents.
"Mr Spock, what hit us?" Kirk asked, regaining his footing.
Another jolt, less in severity, hit the ship.
Spock, also gathering himself up from the deck replied, "A
PAGE 4
concussion-energy wave of some magnitude. Sensor feedback shorted
out any early warning we might have received,"
"Lieutenant Uhura?" The Captain did not have to make a
complete request of the communications officer. The closeness of
the bridge officers occasionally circumvented any need of formal
query in events such as this.
"Damage to shields 3 and 4, long and short range sensors are
out, minor structural damage below C deck. Engineering reports,"
her report was interrupted by a voice over the bridge speaker.