by David Mack
Razka looked at me like I was insane. “Did you look at the skulls in the cave, Commander? This monster has been killing things on this planet for much longer than this installation has been here. Besides, what does the reason matter?”
“It hasn’t just been killing, it’s been decapitating and saving the skulls. It may be intelligent. We can’t just kill it without finding out why.”
“Perhaps you can’t. And perhaps I can’t.” He got a funny look on his face when he said that. “But there are dozens of workers here who will do whatever is necessary to avenge their comrades. And, regardless of your status, Commander, they will not listen to any words you say about it possibly being intelligent or something to talk to. It is an animal, and it has already killed seven men. The only response that anyone here will support is to kill it.”
Transcript of message sent from Nalori Republic Senator Moyya to Commander Sonya Gomez on planet Sarindar, twelfth day of Sendrak, twenty-third year of Togh
We are distressed by your absurd request to suspend operations on the Sarindar Subspace Accelerator Project. We had been led to believe that the officers of the Federation Starfleet were professionals who did not succumb to the foolish ramblings of old women. To insult the intelligence of this senate by suggesting that you have (again) fallen behind in the project’s timetable due to attacks by a “monster shii” is bad enough, but to accompany it with a “recording” of an attack that is so obviously a forgery merely compounds the offense. It is obvious to us that the workers you claim were killed by this “monster” were malingerers and drunks who allowed themselves to be attacked by native fauna. It is equally obvious that Starfleet has sent not their best, as promised, but an incompetent and a fool. There are some voices among the senate who believe that Starfleet simply dressed a foolish woman in a commander’s uniform and sent her to us, hoping we would not notice. The only way to prove those voices wrong is to get the project back on schedule.
Therefore your request is denied. Work will continue. Any unauthorized departure from the planet Sarindar will result in the exclusion of those departing and all other workers on Sarindar from any and all government work for the rest of their natural lives.
First officer’s log, Commander Sonya Gomez, planet Sarindar, Stardate 53285.0
In light of the Nalori Republic’s refusal to accede to my request, I have ordered the workers to resume the scheduled construction of the SA. I have lodged a formal protest with the senate and with Starfleet Command over the gross inhumanity being displayed by the senate in this instance. A distress call was also sent out to Starfleet—specifically for the da Vinci, but sent on a general Starfleet frequency—fourteen hours prior to the reception of the senate’s refusal. While it will take two days for it to reach the Federation, I have faith that someone will respond and, if necessary, evacuate the planet.
Departing is only an option if another ship arrives, as the Culloden is keyed to Zilder’s DNA. The radical dissimilarity between Bolian DNA and that of any of the races represented on this project—not just that of the assorted Nalori races, but also of my human and Dr. Dolahn’s Gallamite genetic structure—renders it impossible to “hot-wire” the Culloden, at least with the equipment available to me.
I have instead devoted my resources to restructuring the duty schedule in light of the reduced personnel, maintaining our defense against the shii, and attempting to improve the presently limited ability of the tricorder to scan the surrounding area despite the high concentrations of chimerium. I am hoping that Dr. Dolahn’s autopsy of the first shii will give us some idea of how we can either defend against or communicate with this creature. In addition, I intend to take a bioscan of a “normal” shii, to give me a base for my readings.
I will continue to send updates and recordings of the monster shii to the Nalori senate, in the hopes that they will come to their senses.
Personal log, Commander Sonya Gomez, planet Sarindar, Stardate 53285.2
I just finished a trip outside the encampment to take a bioreading of the shii. The normal-sized ones are roughly the size of a pony, and they move through the crystalline landscape with an impressive grace. After twice nearly being killed by the mutant versions—or whatever they are—it’s nice to be reminded that the “normal” ones are quite elegant.
In fact, they’re more noble than a good chunk of the sentients presently on the planet. I had to put someone on guard over the Culloden after four different incidents of people breaking into the ship to try to get off-planet. They didn’t succeed, of course, but that’s hardly the point. These are people who make their living working for the government. That same government has made it clear that any attempt to leave the planet will result in them never working again. A lot of these people have families, but they’re willing to risk their livelihood to get out of here.
I, on the other hand, am willing to risk going outside the sonic barrier to get those bioscans. Luckily, I wasn’t attacked by the “monster.”
Not that anyone would have volunteered to come along to protect me. Nobody’s called me “Sañuul” since the massacre at the cave, and I’ve been getting the same doleful looks that I got when I first arrived. Nobody’s invited me to join them for meals, either.
The project is even more behind schedule, with much less than a day’s worth of work getting done on either of the last two days. Everyone wants to leave. No one wants to work.
And I can’t blame them.
But I need to find out what is causing the shii to attack us. There has to be a reason.
Someone’s raising the alarm.
Supplemental
Another attack. Five people are dead—the guard on the Culloden and the latest four who had tried to commandeer it. While they were trying to break into the ship—I’d placed a coded lock on it, along with a recording device—the shii attacked. The ship is docked outside the perimeter of the sonic barrier, so the shii had a clear path to them. In fact, I’m stunned that none of the others who’ve attempted escape before them were similarly attacked.
All five corpses were missing their heads.
One thing I did notice on the recording is that one of the victims—G’sob, one of the Osina assigned to the tubing detail—managed to wound the shii. His weapon was set on a lower intensity, but a higher frequency than normal. I checked his weapon—the shii left it behind—and its reading indicated a different setting from what it had actually fired.
For the first time since I arrived on Sarindar, the substandard equipment is working in my favor. Thanks to G’sob’s rifle being defective, we now know that we can wound the creature.
As good news goes, however, this isn’t much. I suspect that things will only get worse.
Personal log, Commander Sonya Gomez, planet Sarindar, Stardate 53286.2
Things have gotten worse.
Half the workers have refused to leave their tents. The ones who still have sonic weapons—many of them were cannibalized to make the sonic barrier around the encampment—are clutching them to their persons and threatening to shoot anything that comes near them. They’ve all readjusted their weapons to the setting G’sob used.
I’ve tried to get them to go to work, but I have no hold over them anymore. The senate’s decree has served to completely undercut any authority I had with these people, even as it undercut their own authority. No one here can possibly take seriously a body that refuses to accept the existence of something most of us have seen with our own eyes. And yet, the fact that they don’t believe what I tell them about the same creature has given the workers carte blanche to ignore my orders.
Neither the tubing nor the mining mechanics are finished, even though they should have been done by now. The delivery system is off-line, and probably will remain that way—especially since the three most talented members of that particular detail are now dead. In my next message to the senate, I intend to ask for replacements since they can’t be bothered to actually shut down the project. There’s no way I can complete th
e SA without sufficient personnel, and even if the remaining crew worked their hardest—which they most definitely won’t—we couldn’t finish this thing.
I’ve been scanning for twenty-eight hours, and I can’t find a single reason why the shii is attacking. I’m half-tempted to go back to the cave and try to do a scan there, but I don’t think it’s worth the risk—yet. But it may come to that. I’m still awaiting Dr. Dolahn’s autopsy report on the shii I killed. He said he’d get to it today, but he’s said that every day since I first brought it to him.
I’ve also come up with an idea for how to trap the creature without killing it.
First officer’s log, Commander Sonya Gomez, planet Sarindar, Stardate 53286.8
I have managed to boost worker morale slightly. The tubing was finally finished this morning, so I reassigned them to construct a trap for the shii. This was work they could actually get enthusiastic about, since they’re stuck on the planet for the time being. (My numerous communiqués to the senate have met with a resounding silence. I’m hoping to get a reply from the da Vinci tomorrow.)
The principle of the trap is quite simple: it’s a box that’s divided into two halves by a set of metal bars. I had been hoping for duranium, but all that’s available is a steel composite left over from the tubing. Three people stand on one side of the bars, armed. The other side is open. Based on the bioscan I took of the regular shii, there’s one particular ruby-like flower that they are fond of eating. The plan is to place several of those flowers into the open end of the trap. Once the shii enters, a force field will be activated, trapping the creature inside. The three armed people then fire on the creature at the low-intensity-high-frequency setting, which should be enough to stun it, or at least to subdue it.
The detail has taken to the task with relish, and I’m hoping they’ll have it done by nightfall. Kugot, Amuk, and Entorr have volunteered to serve as the executors of the trap.
Supplemental
The trap has failed. Entorr, Kugot, and Amuk are dead. One of the weapons misfired and damaged one of the bars. The shii flailed and sliced through the bar. All three missed the shii with their shots, and then were, unfortunately, prime targets once the bars went down. It is unclear why the three of them did not escape through the rear hatch, but their failure to do so resulted in their tragic deaths. Entorr was killed by decapitation. The other two were beheaded after they were killed. The creature departed with all three heads.
I doubt the creature will fall for the same trap again, and we don’t have the material to reconstruct it in any case.
I am still waiting for the final autopsy report from Dr. Dolahn on the shii that I killed. Scans of the region still fail to provide any reason why the shii would be attacking us.
Personal log, Commander Sonya Gomez, planet Sarindar, Stardate 53287.0
Okay, my official log has the formal report about how exactly Entorr, Kugot, and Amuk were killed.
I need to say, however, that it was the most pathetic sight I have ever seen in my life! Much as I hate to speak ill of the dead, I really have to wonder about those three. Did they have a death wish?
Admittedly, part of it was the fault of the ever-substandard Nalori equipment. At least one of the rifles was on the wrong setting.
But still—how the hell can you miss something at point-blank range?
The shii took the bait we laid out. I activated the force field. The shii realized it was trapped and started making this squeaky noise. I gave the order to fire.
And they missed.
Worse, one of them—Entorr, whose weapon was on the wrong setting—hit one of the bars. That weakened the steel enough so that it started to buckle. The shii must have noticed this—or maybe it would have attacked the bars anyhow. Either way, it sliced through one of the bars, leaving the three Nalori vulnerable—
—especially since they panicked and started firing wildly instead of doing what they were supposed to do if something like this happened, which was run out the back door. I had made sure that there was a method of escape in case something like this happened, and they didn’t use it.
I’ve been sending regular updates on the situation to the senate, including images of every attack of the shii. I’m really of two minds as to whether or not to send this one, as it makes all of us look like idiots.
Naturally, everyone’s blaming me for the trap not working, even though it should have worked, if those three jackasses had done what they were supposed to do.
Okay, that’s not fair. They panicked. It happens. But that panic got them killed.
The last batch of messages included one from the da Vinci. Even though it’s time-stamped two days after I sent out the distress call, it makes no acknowledgment of it. I’ve continued to send it at each opportunity, so, with any luck, they will get it eventually. According to Kieran, things are going better—it turns out that there isn’t going to be a war, and the da Vinci has been assigned to help the folks at Deep Space 9 put the station back together. Fabian Stevens used to be assigned to DS9, so he’s probably happy about the assignment.
Right now, I really wish I was back with them. I wish I could watch Fabian and Pattie crawl around a warp core with me, listen to Carol make one of her snide remarks, try to decipher Soloman’s chirpy computer-speak, watch Bart write a letter on paper to Anthony, hear Captain Gold go on about his grandchildren. Hell, I wouldn’t even mind listening to Corsi complain.
But most of all, I miss Kieran’s smile. That dopey, aw-shucks smile that he always gets on his face when he decides to torture me by reminding me of when I spilled hot chocolate on Captain Picard.
Work on the SA has crawled to a halt. The team that put the trap together is down to one person now, and he refuses to work. Nobody’s tried to steal the Culloden—mainly because of what happened last time—but nobody’s willing to work, or talk to me, either.
I’m going to go to the camp hospital and sit on Dolahn until he gives me an autopsy report.
Partial transcript of autopsy report of sample S019 (a.k.a. “monster shii”) by Dr. Dolahn, Sarindar Medical Unit, thirteenth day of Sendrak, twenty-third year of Togh
DOLAHN: The creature also shows signs of—Ah, Commander Gomez, I was just going to summon you.
GOMEZ: I see you’re actually working on the autopsy.
DOLAHN: Don’t sound so surprised, Commander. I admit, I’ve been dilatory in getting to this, but caring for Kani and Rimlek has been difficult—I almost lost them a couple of times.
GOMEZ: I’m sorry, Doctor, I didn’t realize …
DOLAHN: Yes, well, there was no way you could’ve known.
GOMEZ: Especially since you didn’t tell me. If you actually gave me reports …
DOLAHN: [makes throat-clearing noise] Yes, well, be that as it may, I have begun the autopsy, and I’ve come to rather a shocking revelation.
GOMEZ: What?
DOLAHN: Whatever this creature is, it isn’t native to Sarindar.
GOMEZ: But—
DOLAHN: It may appear to be a shii—and rather a mutated one at that—but it isn’t. Take a look at this. Some of these match the way the internal organs of a shii are supposed to be arranged, but half of them aren’t even actual organs. I’ve been studying silicon-based life-forms for most of my career, and I can’t make heads nor feet out of any of th—
GOMEZ: These aren’t organs.
DOLAHN: I beg your pardon?
GOMEZ: These aren’t organs.
DOLAHN: What are you doing with that thing? I thought those Starfleet contraptions of yours were just glorified recording devices on this planet.
GOMEZ: I’ve been able to modify this one to get at least partial readings, even with the chimerium. And, according to the readings I’m getting right now, these don’t behave like “proper” organs because they’re biomechanical.
DOLAHN: Commander, most silicon-based life might read on a tricorder as “biomechanical” due to the nature of their—
GOMEZ: Doctor, contrary t
o the opinions of the Nalori government, I’m not stupid. I compensated for that. But this creature was never “alive” in the traditional sense. It’s an artificial life-form. In fact …
DOLAHN: What is it?
GOMEZ: If I’m reading this right, some of these “organs” are actually chameleon circuits. Some people at the Daystrom Institute were working on something like this, but they were never able to make it work.
DOLAHN: For those of us who don’t follow every move of the Daystrom Institute, Commander, what, exactly, is a chameleon circuit?
GOMEZ: It’s something that allows a mechanism to change its outer form. You program it to alter its appearance. The problem is, the power demands to let something with an unstable molecular structure perform stable mechanical functions were always way in excess of what was practical. Whoever built this was able to solve that. This is amazing.
DOLAHN: Why would anyone build something like this?
GOMEZ: I don’t know. But this changes everything. I need to study these circuits, see if I can figure out the programming.
DOLAHN: What, you’re going to work here?
GOMEZ: Unless you have a better idea, Doctor. I won’t have the space to do this in my tent, and this is the closest we have to a lab in the camp.
DOLAHN: Fine, if you must, but please stay out of my way.
First officer’s log, Commander Sonya Gomez, planet Sarindar, Stardate 53288.6
I have left Razka and J’Roh in charge of what remains of the project—apparently, the crew working on the mining mechanics have been throwing themselves into their work, on the premise that it’s better than waiting for something to kill them. Everyone else is sulking in their tents. I, meanwhile, have spent the last twenty-eight hours trying to figure out what makes the “monster shii” tick.