Post by RAND_AL'THOR on Sept 17, 2007 22:10:29 GMT
Here's a fanfic I've begun writing. What is it a fanfic of? I've made the title purposefully enigmatic, so as not to reveal anything.
I'll keep this updated, so stay tuned. Be sure to tell me what you think of this; I'll be glad to hear from you!
Oh, and it seems the formatting isn't exactly correct; I'm typing this up in OpenOffice's Word Processor program, and just copying and pasting it here.
The Distant Horizon
Written By: Lord Rand al'Thor
Began: Stardate 100601.2007
Book One: The New Leaders
Prologue
"Well, commander, it seems my shift is just about over," yawned Robert Higgins, the commanding officer of the border ship, Starblade. "Another dull duty report to write up. It's not like anything ever happens out this way."
Commander Sam Johnson, the wiry-framed, blonde young man who had just entered the bridge and took a seat at helm, glanced up at his captain. "Aye, sir. I'll alert you if anything comes up, sir."
"Sometimes I wonder if Starfleet Command didn't just send us here to get us out of the way. Build another border ship, send it out to the farthest reaches of Federation territory, light years away from any kind of planet, just to get us out of their way."
Higgins was on his way to the turbolift when Lieutenant Sarah Wade spoke up. "Captain, sir, we've got an unidentified craft on radar. Outside our territory." She tapped a few icons on the touch-screen at her station. "It's within hailing range."
Higgins came to a stop, and spun to face the view screen. All he could see displayed was an endless expanse of black, broken by minute dots of white, the stars along the distant horizon. The ship may be on radar, but it wasn't showing on visual just yet. "How far away are they? Are they heading our way?"
"Yes, sir," Wade replied, studying the sensor readings on the screen before her. "They are about two-hundred-thousand kilometers ahead of us, and closing in at about warp factor two."
"Go to yellow alert, lieutenant," Higgins instructed. The bridge lights dimmed, the sensor beacons began to flash yellow. Higgins stared at the view screen, and could suddenly see the small vessel approaching at an alarming rate. It was a narrow disk, with only a single light at the center of the top. There were no openings on the silvery surface. The ship seemed to slide through space.
"Open hailing frequencies, Wade," instructed Higgins, who came to stand in the center of the bridge, in the pit, a circular region of floor in the center of the room that was slightly lower than the surrounding bridge.
"Aye, Captain, frequencies open," Wade was quick to reply.
"This is Captain Robert Higgins, of the Federation border ship, Starblade. You are approaching the border of territory claimed by the United Federation of Planets, and are requested to identify yourselves."
"The vessel has come to a stop, Captain," Wade indicated. Sure enough, the saucer had halted its progress. "It is a thousand kilometers ahead of us, a thousand kilometers from Federation territory."
Higgins waited for a reply, but heard nothing but silence from the other end. After a few moments, Wade spoke up. "Unidentified vessel has begun charging weapons systems, sir!"
"Go to red alert, lieutenant!" barked Higgins, rushing back to helm. "Evasive maneuvers, Commander, but don't cross the border. Keep to our side!"
"Aye, Captain!" Johnson replied, furiously tapping buttons.
A single voice called out over the hailing frequency, a voice that bore no resemblance to human voice, and was empty of all emotion. The saucer soared toward the Starblade, not caring about the position of the border. The voice sounded like cold steel, yet rough like the sound of crushing bones.
"We do not recognize Federation borders," it began. There was no telling of gender; in fact, it seemed the speaker, whatever creature it was, didn't have a gender. "All will fall to us. We are the--"
It seemed the speaker didn't care if its victims heard the end of that thought, as a single beam of blue energy lanced from the saucer, and shot clean through the Federation vessel. The border ship tore apart, the flames dying quickly in the vacuum of space. The debris of the ship drifted along, and the saucer flew past, hastening on its way. From where the single saucer had come began columns of identical saucers, a hundred columns in all, each column numbering in the thousands. The saucers crept along through the expanse of space, no obstacles in their way.
Chapter One: Deployment
I ran along the shore, breathing in the clean air, the sun shining brightly in the clear expanse of blue above. There was the slightest hint of a cool breeze as I came to a stop, the gentle tide of the ocean rolling upon my bare feet. The only sounds that reached my ears were those of the low tide, and the pale gulls gliding around in the air above, eager to find some food that had been thrown away. I stood there, staring out as far as I could, and caught sight of a small ship sailing towards the shore.
It was a one-sailed sloop, the triangular sail bent in the wind over the ocean. The plow, coming to a sharp point, bobbed up and down. The deck was flat, with a low wall surrounding it. The hull was covered in red paint, that had long since began to fade and peel. Black letters ran along the starboard side of the hull, the side facing me as the sloop sailed quickly along. The ship was still too far away to make out tiny details, but I knew the name of this ship. It was the Wave Hunter, a sloop owned by a guy who I considered my best friend in this world.
Within a few minutes, the sloop had come to a stop at the shore, and the single crew member had tossed the anchor into the water, the heavy, black chain clanging against the deck of the ship. The young man, his short black hair mussed up by the wind, turned to face me, and jumped to the beach, his boots landing heavily in the soft sand.
"That trip only took you five hours," I began, waving an arm in greeting. "I thought you'd be back in four, Chris, what took you so long?"
Chris wiped the sweat off his forehead with the front of his black T-shirt, and laughed. "Darn, couldn't beat my own record time, could I, Al?" he joked. "But seriously, I was just distracted by something I don't often see. It was a derelict ship, a small one, possibly only for a crew of five or so, only one lower deck. The ship was abandoned, just adrift there. I came up beside it, and shouted to see if anyone was aboard. When no one responded, I climbed aboard, to look around. I looked on deck and below, but there was no one aboard."
I considered this for a moment before replying. "Any sign of how long the ship had been adrift? Or where it had come from?"
"Considering the style of the craft, I'm thinking it came from beyond the eastern reach of the ocean. As for how long it had been adrift? I checked in the captain's quarters, and found his journal, which had fallen beneath the wooden cot. There were only a couple of pages filled in, and the pages were crumpled, water-logged. I could make out the date of the last entry, and it was dated three months ago."
"Hm. Well, nothing we can do about it, then," I considered. "So, you left the ship adrift, I take it?"
"What else could I have done?" Chris shrugged. "I guess I'll report this finding, and let the authorities take a look."
I glanced at the watch on my left wrist. The blinking LEDs displayed the time in binary code, making the watch impossible for most to read. I quickly counted up the active lights, and realized the time to be a quarter past four. The sun was beginning its decent in the west, toward the distant horizon.
"I guess we'd better be getting back to town, then," I said, glancing around. We were the only ones out on this beach; that was usually the case, as not many people cared to come to this small strip of sand. It was too much off the beaten path, and little to be done here.
Chris nodded his agreement, and we ran up the sloping hill, where the sand was broken here and there by patches of grass trying to grow. Our boots crunched the sand as we dashed along.
"Say, Al," Chris began, as we made our way to the side of the road. The stretch of pavement rounded a hill, upon which was a patch of forest. The surface of the road was worn and broken, from many years of rain and ice, and burning sunlight. The double yellow lines through the middle were faded and marked with dents and cracks. There was no traffic along the road at this time, leaving the two of us free to walk along the pavement, as opposed to the ditch that ran alongside, which ran thick with mud. The forest to our right, as we walked along was thick with oak trees, their broad leaves blocking out the light from the slowly setting sun to the west. A squirrel dashed across the road, and paused, considering us, before continuing along his way, up the hill and into the forest. "When did you say your mission here was through?" Chris continued.
I had forgotten about that, for the moment. "Oh, I've got another week before I ship off, again." It had been the purest of coincidences that I ran into Chris, at this place. It was rare that I was able to know where Chris was deployed, and I had had no knowledge that he was going to be here. "It's been great though, being able to hang out with you again." I looked up into the sky. "It's been like old times, almost."
Night fell early, in this place. It wasn't even close to five, but darkness was already beginning to reach through the sky from the east. "Hey look!" I nudged Chris, pointing to a dot of light far above. "It's a shooting star!"
The dot of light flew through the sky, lost to view to the far north. Chris glanced up just in time to see it fade from view. "Odd to see a meteorite so early in the evening."
We continued our walk into the town in silence. Once we arrived at the Federation outpost, I bade Chris farewell, and stepped inside.
I awoke early the next morning, to the sound of the news telecast. A screen on the opposite side of the room glowed with the visual of a news reporter, and the sounds of the report only vaguely reached my ears. I was groggy, and eager to get just an hour more of sleep.
"Authorities are not confirming the rumors that are going about," the news reporter, a woman apparently in her early thirties, was saying. I didn't pay any attention; I only left the telecast on as background noise, as I couldn't stand complete silence. If the news was worth my attention, I'd get it via a communique from Starfleet. "A more popular rumor going around is that this is a result of the Infinity Project. The only details they are confirming is that it was nothing more than a meteorite, which they had been tracking for the past four months. A collision was expected, but--"
I hit a button on the nearby remote, and the telecast switched to a classical music station. The visual fell dark, and the sound of one of Mendelssohn's symphonies filled the cool air of my apartment. I leaned back on the bed, and tried to fall asleep again.
Unfortunately, that was not to be. The alarm clock, which I had placed next to the display screen, went off, drowning out the sounds of the orchestra. Grumbling to myself, I stood and crossed to the other side of the room. After switching off the alarm clock, I decided I might as well get up.
A short while later, I was dressed and ready to set out for the day's assignment. I picked up the computer padd, a portable computer, smaller than a sheet of notebook paper and just about as thin, and read over my tasks for the day.
The first assignment required that I visit the nearby spaceport by noon. I took a quick glance at the clock, and noticed the time was 7:30. Plenty of time, I thought. Checking that I had everything I needed, I made my way to the door.
The apartment was not all that large, as it was not meant to be lived in for long periods of time. The decorations were sparse, and the furniture minimal. I did not have that many personal belongings. What I had brought along barely filled the single dresser next to the windows.
Sliding the computer padd into a pocket, I stepped into the hallway, the door sliding shut behind me. I strolled along the narrow hallway, the corridor illuminated by strips of softly glowing lights that ran along the tops of the walls. After taking a quick turbolift ride down to the ground floor, I walked through the main lobby. As it was early in the morning, the sun having just risen, there weren't that many people in the lobby.
The watch on my arm read 8:02AM by the time I arrived at the spaceport. The vast building was located in the nearby city of Me'ton, and was always a hive of activity. Regardless of the time of day or night, there were countless creatures bustling about, either just arriving, or ready to depart. The parking bay was a patchwork quilt of ship designs throughout this quadrant of the galaxy. Most of the ship designs I was unfamiliar with, and most were not ships built by Starfleet. I had, some years ago, glanced through a directory of ships from throughout the Federation, but that was many years ago. I did recognize a few freighters, the pilots bringing in their products for sale or trade. The din of conversation, of deals being made, of arguments between old friends or enemies, filled the main floor of the spaceport. Glancing up, I saw the light of the morning sun reaching across the sky. I knew that this spaceport was only the planetside section. The rest of the spaceport was high above the planet, in an orbital route that kept it perpetually above the planetside port.
I read over my instructions again. I was to meet up with the commanding officer of the Magellan-class vessel, Endeavor.
I was to meet up with the commanding officer of the Magellan-class vessel, Endeavor, a man by the name of Johnathan West. According to a brief overview of the landing platform I was given, a shuttle from Endeavor was parked in Lot 49A. I glanced at the labels stamped onto the cold, cement floor, and found my way to the lot in question.
The shuttle was of typical design for Federation vessels; with an outer hull made of pale, white steel, the shuttle was quite blocky in form, with engine nacelles running along the bottom of the frame. The familiar Starfleet insignia was branded on the sides of the shuttle. The docking hatch of the shuttle was open, and a Starfleet officer, clad in the uniform of the command section, a uniform that was black, with the exception of the tan patches along the shoulders, stepped out as I came near. The lights of the landing bay reflected off of the Starfleet insignia he wore on his shirt. The man, apparently in his mid-thirties, ran a hand through his dark brown hair, and I couldn't help but notice the slight wrinkles along his face.
"Dr. Albert Stanton, I presume," he greeted, holding out a hand. As I shook the hand, he continued. "I'm glad to see you're on time; there's a lot that we have to discuss. If you'll follow me inside." He stepped aside, motioning for me to step inside the shuttle.
The interior of the shuttle was cramped. The small room at the back was stocked with columns of unmarked steel containers, each with the Starfleet insignia along the sides. The main room of the shuttle was crowded with the control panels that combined helm, tactical, comm, and science stations. Two chairs were bolted to the floor at the control panel. The panels were all dark, with the dim lights of the room reflected off the smooth, plastic surface of the panels. Above the panel were the main view screens, which currently were looking out over the hustle and bustle of the landing bay. The floor was a simple expanse of blue steel.
Captain West motioned for me to have a seat in one of the two chairs in the main room. We sat down at just about the same time, and he spoke once more.
"I'm sure you're wondering why you were requested to come here, today, Dr. Stanton."
I nodded. "Yes, sir. My work never brings me to this station. In fact, this is the first time I've been here since I arrived on this planet."
"Understandable. Your field of work is archeology, correct? You are requested to return to Starfleet Command HQ on Earth immediately. Since the Endeavor was the closest ship to Metrima IV at the moment, we were sent to escort you back to Earth."
I raised an eyebrow. "Sir, any word on why I'm needed back at Starfleet Command? My deployment here wasn't due to expire for another seven days."
"Admiral McCoy gave no word as to why they sent for you, only that you are to arrive at Command as soon as possible. Do you have any belongings here you need to gather before departing? Anyone you need to speak with?"
I thought first of Chris. I hadn't exactly said good-bye to him, and if I was going to be taken back to Earth, there was no telling if I would be back in time to speak with him again. "Yes, sir, it's my friend, Chris. I would like to say good-bye before we leave."
"Very well, then," West nodded. "You've got until 1300 hours. This shuttle will be departing at that time, whether or not you are on board. Understood?"
"Yes, sir, thank you, sir." I stood, and made my way out of the shuttle. I quickly thought over the places Chris was likely to be at this time of the morning, and decided to check back at the strip of beach where we often hung out. Destination in mind, I hurried off.
The taxi pulled to a stop, near the unpaved exit that lead to the beach. I handed the driver a few paper bills, and climbed out of the cab. As I ran down the sandy slope, the taxi pulled away.
At the edge of the beach stood Chris, sitting on the deck of the sloop. He looked up as I ran down the hill, and grinned.
"What brings you around here, Al?" he asked, glancing around. He didn't smile, though.
"I've just received word that I've been asked to return to Starfleet Command. I wanted to talk with you one last time; I don't know when I'll see you again."
"Returning to Earth, huh? Any idea why?"
"No. Captain Johnathan West, of the Endeavor, is at the spaceport to provide transport back to Earth. He wasn't told why I was needed back at Command." I looked around, and noticed the expanse of ocean was empty. It usually was, but there was an ominous feeling about the emptiness, today. "Why aren't you out on the ocean, yet?"
"I'm not allowed. An all-points bulletin was sent out, from the government, just a few hours ago. Something crashed into the ocean last night, but the officials don't want anyone out on the ocean, just in case..."
"And they've not said anything about what they suspect it is, right?" He nodded. "Expected as much. Well, Chris, you should check it out. So what if you're not allowed to? Since when did we follow rules like that? Go check it out, and keep me apprised." The smile faded from my face. "Well, I guess this is good-bye, then."
"Not for good, I expect," Chris was quick to reply. "We'll see each other again. I've no doubt about that. I hope everything goes okay back at HQ. See you, Al."
I arrived back at the spaceport with a couple of hours yet to spare. Captain West was waiting patiently in the shuttle. I settled down in the unoccupied chair, and West powered up the shuttle.
"If all goes well, Dr. Stanton, we should have you back at HQ in three days."
"What mission were you on, in this sector, if I may ask, sir?"
"Actually, we had just completed a mission. We had received word that the border ship, Starblade, hadn't filed its routine mission reports for a few days. Starfleet wanted to investigate the situation, and, of the two ships in the vicinity, the Endeavor was closest." One of the sections of the panel indicated that the shuttle had clearance to depart. West tapped in a few commands, and the docking hatch sealed as the shuttle lifted from the platform. My stomach lurched as the shuttle lifted vertically into the air. Through the view screens, I saw the spaceport fall away as the shuttle climbed higher into the air.
A few minutes later, the shuttle had broken free of the atmosphere of Metrima IV, and the Endeavor came into view. As a Magellan-class vessel, the Endeavor was simply a saucer section with warp nacelles extending from the top back of the saucer. The light from the planet below was reflected off of the underside of the ship's hull. Dots of light specked the side of the saucer as the ship drifted along.
West opened hailing frequencies with the ship. "Captain West to Endeavor, I am on my way back. Prepare Shuttle Bay 2."
"Aye, Captain. Shuttle Bay 2 is ready for your return."
The Endeavor loomed ever closer, as the shuttle came in to dock. The shuttle came to a stop in a vast hangar, alongside an identical craft. Although I couldn't see the landing bay doors from inside the shuttle, I knew the routine that would take place now that the shuttle was in place. A force field would cover the open doorway, while the inner and outer doors would fall closed. While the doors were closing, the shuttle bay would be pressurized and filled with breathable air. By the time the doors were completely closed, the shuttle bay would be safe to move around in.
Even from within the cabin of the shuttle, I could hear the reverberating sound of the gears turning to close the sets of doors. I stood from the chair, and began to the back of the shuttle, as Captain West powered down the craft. At length, the docking door swung open, and I stepped out onto the cold concrete that constituted the floor of the shuttle bay, West right behind me.
"Your quarters are in room 21B, on deck 12," West informed me, crossing the room to the main door. "As I said before, it should only take three days to make it back to Earth, given that nothing comes up in the meantime." The door opened, and he stepped out into the hallway, not pausing to glance back. I took a few moments to look around the shuttle bay; this was my first time being aboard a Magellan-class starship. For most of my deployments, I rode aboard Arceus-class vessels, which were by no means high-class transports. I headed out to the corridor, in search of a turbolift.
I'll keep this updated, so stay tuned. Be sure to tell me what you think of this; I'll be glad to hear from you!
Oh, and it seems the formatting isn't exactly correct; I'm typing this up in OpenOffice's Word Processor program, and just copying and pasting it here.
The Distant Horizon
Written By: Lord Rand al'Thor
Began: Stardate 100601.2007
Book One: The New Leaders
Prologue
"Well, commander, it seems my shift is just about over," yawned Robert Higgins, the commanding officer of the border ship, Starblade. "Another dull duty report to write up. It's not like anything ever happens out this way."
Commander Sam Johnson, the wiry-framed, blonde young man who had just entered the bridge and took a seat at helm, glanced up at his captain. "Aye, sir. I'll alert you if anything comes up, sir."
"Sometimes I wonder if Starfleet Command didn't just send us here to get us out of the way. Build another border ship, send it out to the farthest reaches of Federation territory, light years away from any kind of planet, just to get us out of their way."
Higgins was on his way to the turbolift when Lieutenant Sarah Wade spoke up. "Captain, sir, we've got an unidentified craft on radar. Outside our territory." She tapped a few icons on the touch-screen at her station. "It's within hailing range."
Higgins came to a stop, and spun to face the view screen. All he could see displayed was an endless expanse of black, broken by minute dots of white, the stars along the distant horizon. The ship may be on radar, but it wasn't showing on visual just yet. "How far away are they? Are they heading our way?"
"Yes, sir," Wade replied, studying the sensor readings on the screen before her. "They are about two-hundred-thousand kilometers ahead of us, and closing in at about warp factor two."
"Go to yellow alert, lieutenant," Higgins instructed. The bridge lights dimmed, the sensor beacons began to flash yellow. Higgins stared at the view screen, and could suddenly see the small vessel approaching at an alarming rate. It was a narrow disk, with only a single light at the center of the top. There were no openings on the silvery surface. The ship seemed to slide through space.
"Open hailing frequencies, Wade," instructed Higgins, who came to stand in the center of the bridge, in the pit, a circular region of floor in the center of the room that was slightly lower than the surrounding bridge.
"Aye, Captain, frequencies open," Wade was quick to reply.
"This is Captain Robert Higgins, of the Federation border ship, Starblade. You are approaching the border of territory claimed by the United Federation of Planets, and are requested to identify yourselves."
"The vessel has come to a stop, Captain," Wade indicated. Sure enough, the saucer had halted its progress. "It is a thousand kilometers ahead of us, a thousand kilometers from Federation territory."
Higgins waited for a reply, but heard nothing but silence from the other end. After a few moments, Wade spoke up. "Unidentified vessel has begun charging weapons systems, sir!"
"Go to red alert, lieutenant!" barked Higgins, rushing back to helm. "Evasive maneuvers, Commander, but don't cross the border. Keep to our side!"
"Aye, Captain!" Johnson replied, furiously tapping buttons.
A single voice called out over the hailing frequency, a voice that bore no resemblance to human voice, and was empty of all emotion. The saucer soared toward the Starblade, not caring about the position of the border. The voice sounded like cold steel, yet rough like the sound of crushing bones.
"We do not recognize Federation borders," it began. There was no telling of gender; in fact, it seemed the speaker, whatever creature it was, didn't have a gender. "All will fall to us. We are the--"
It seemed the speaker didn't care if its victims heard the end of that thought, as a single beam of blue energy lanced from the saucer, and shot clean through the Federation vessel. The border ship tore apart, the flames dying quickly in the vacuum of space. The debris of the ship drifted along, and the saucer flew past, hastening on its way. From where the single saucer had come began columns of identical saucers, a hundred columns in all, each column numbering in the thousands. The saucers crept along through the expanse of space, no obstacles in their way.
Chapter One: Deployment
I ran along the shore, breathing in the clean air, the sun shining brightly in the clear expanse of blue above. There was the slightest hint of a cool breeze as I came to a stop, the gentle tide of the ocean rolling upon my bare feet. The only sounds that reached my ears were those of the low tide, and the pale gulls gliding around in the air above, eager to find some food that had been thrown away. I stood there, staring out as far as I could, and caught sight of a small ship sailing towards the shore.
It was a one-sailed sloop, the triangular sail bent in the wind over the ocean. The plow, coming to a sharp point, bobbed up and down. The deck was flat, with a low wall surrounding it. The hull was covered in red paint, that had long since began to fade and peel. Black letters ran along the starboard side of the hull, the side facing me as the sloop sailed quickly along. The ship was still too far away to make out tiny details, but I knew the name of this ship. It was the Wave Hunter, a sloop owned by a guy who I considered my best friend in this world.
Within a few minutes, the sloop had come to a stop at the shore, and the single crew member had tossed the anchor into the water, the heavy, black chain clanging against the deck of the ship. The young man, his short black hair mussed up by the wind, turned to face me, and jumped to the beach, his boots landing heavily in the soft sand.
"That trip only took you five hours," I began, waving an arm in greeting. "I thought you'd be back in four, Chris, what took you so long?"
Chris wiped the sweat off his forehead with the front of his black T-shirt, and laughed. "Darn, couldn't beat my own record time, could I, Al?" he joked. "But seriously, I was just distracted by something I don't often see. It was a derelict ship, a small one, possibly only for a crew of five or so, only one lower deck. The ship was abandoned, just adrift there. I came up beside it, and shouted to see if anyone was aboard. When no one responded, I climbed aboard, to look around. I looked on deck and below, but there was no one aboard."
I considered this for a moment before replying. "Any sign of how long the ship had been adrift? Or where it had come from?"
"Considering the style of the craft, I'm thinking it came from beyond the eastern reach of the ocean. As for how long it had been adrift? I checked in the captain's quarters, and found his journal, which had fallen beneath the wooden cot. There were only a couple of pages filled in, and the pages were crumpled, water-logged. I could make out the date of the last entry, and it was dated three months ago."
"Hm. Well, nothing we can do about it, then," I considered. "So, you left the ship adrift, I take it?"
"What else could I have done?" Chris shrugged. "I guess I'll report this finding, and let the authorities take a look."
I glanced at the watch on my left wrist. The blinking LEDs displayed the time in binary code, making the watch impossible for most to read. I quickly counted up the active lights, and realized the time to be a quarter past four. The sun was beginning its decent in the west, toward the distant horizon.
"I guess we'd better be getting back to town, then," I said, glancing around. We were the only ones out on this beach; that was usually the case, as not many people cared to come to this small strip of sand. It was too much off the beaten path, and little to be done here.
Chris nodded his agreement, and we ran up the sloping hill, where the sand was broken here and there by patches of grass trying to grow. Our boots crunched the sand as we dashed along.
"Say, Al," Chris began, as we made our way to the side of the road. The stretch of pavement rounded a hill, upon which was a patch of forest. The surface of the road was worn and broken, from many years of rain and ice, and burning sunlight. The double yellow lines through the middle were faded and marked with dents and cracks. There was no traffic along the road at this time, leaving the two of us free to walk along the pavement, as opposed to the ditch that ran alongside, which ran thick with mud. The forest to our right, as we walked along was thick with oak trees, their broad leaves blocking out the light from the slowly setting sun to the west. A squirrel dashed across the road, and paused, considering us, before continuing along his way, up the hill and into the forest. "When did you say your mission here was through?" Chris continued.
I had forgotten about that, for the moment. "Oh, I've got another week before I ship off, again." It had been the purest of coincidences that I ran into Chris, at this place. It was rare that I was able to know where Chris was deployed, and I had had no knowledge that he was going to be here. "It's been great though, being able to hang out with you again." I looked up into the sky. "It's been like old times, almost."
Night fell early, in this place. It wasn't even close to five, but darkness was already beginning to reach through the sky from the east. "Hey look!" I nudged Chris, pointing to a dot of light far above. "It's a shooting star!"
The dot of light flew through the sky, lost to view to the far north. Chris glanced up just in time to see it fade from view. "Odd to see a meteorite so early in the evening."
We continued our walk into the town in silence. Once we arrived at the Federation outpost, I bade Chris farewell, and stepped inside.
I awoke early the next morning, to the sound of the news telecast. A screen on the opposite side of the room glowed with the visual of a news reporter, and the sounds of the report only vaguely reached my ears. I was groggy, and eager to get just an hour more of sleep.
"Authorities are not confirming the rumors that are going about," the news reporter, a woman apparently in her early thirties, was saying. I didn't pay any attention; I only left the telecast on as background noise, as I couldn't stand complete silence. If the news was worth my attention, I'd get it via a communique from Starfleet. "A more popular rumor going around is that this is a result of the Infinity Project. The only details they are confirming is that it was nothing more than a meteorite, which they had been tracking for the past four months. A collision was expected, but--"
I hit a button on the nearby remote, and the telecast switched to a classical music station. The visual fell dark, and the sound of one of Mendelssohn's symphonies filled the cool air of my apartment. I leaned back on the bed, and tried to fall asleep again.
Unfortunately, that was not to be. The alarm clock, which I had placed next to the display screen, went off, drowning out the sounds of the orchestra. Grumbling to myself, I stood and crossed to the other side of the room. After switching off the alarm clock, I decided I might as well get up.
A short while later, I was dressed and ready to set out for the day's assignment. I picked up the computer padd, a portable computer, smaller than a sheet of notebook paper and just about as thin, and read over my tasks for the day.
The first assignment required that I visit the nearby spaceport by noon. I took a quick glance at the clock, and noticed the time was 7:30. Plenty of time, I thought. Checking that I had everything I needed, I made my way to the door.
The apartment was not all that large, as it was not meant to be lived in for long periods of time. The decorations were sparse, and the furniture minimal. I did not have that many personal belongings. What I had brought along barely filled the single dresser next to the windows.
Sliding the computer padd into a pocket, I stepped into the hallway, the door sliding shut behind me. I strolled along the narrow hallway, the corridor illuminated by strips of softly glowing lights that ran along the tops of the walls. After taking a quick turbolift ride down to the ground floor, I walked through the main lobby. As it was early in the morning, the sun having just risen, there weren't that many people in the lobby.
The watch on my arm read 8:02AM by the time I arrived at the spaceport. The vast building was located in the nearby city of Me'ton, and was always a hive of activity. Regardless of the time of day or night, there were countless creatures bustling about, either just arriving, or ready to depart. The parking bay was a patchwork quilt of ship designs throughout this quadrant of the galaxy. Most of the ship designs I was unfamiliar with, and most were not ships built by Starfleet. I had, some years ago, glanced through a directory of ships from throughout the Federation, but that was many years ago. I did recognize a few freighters, the pilots bringing in their products for sale or trade. The din of conversation, of deals being made, of arguments between old friends or enemies, filled the main floor of the spaceport. Glancing up, I saw the light of the morning sun reaching across the sky. I knew that this spaceport was only the planetside section. The rest of the spaceport was high above the planet, in an orbital route that kept it perpetually above the planetside port.
I read over my instructions again. I was to meet up with the commanding officer of the Magellan-class vessel, Endeavor.
I was to meet up with the commanding officer of the Magellan-class vessel, Endeavor, a man by the name of Johnathan West. According to a brief overview of the landing platform I was given, a shuttle from Endeavor was parked in Lot 49A. I glanced at the labels stamped onto the cold, cement floor, and found my way to the lot in question.
The shuttle was of typical design for Federation vessels; with an outer hull made of pale, white steel, the shuttle was quite blocky in form, with engine nacelles running along the bottom of the frame. The familiar Starfleet insignia was branded on the sides of the shuttle. The docking hatch of the shuttle was open, and a Starfleet officer, clad in the uniform of the command section, a uniform that was black, with the exception of the tan patches along the shoulders, stepped out as I came near. The lights of the landing bay reflected off of the Starfleet insignia he wore on his shirt. The man, apparently in his mid-thirties, ran a hand through his dark brown hair, and I couldn't help but notice the slight wrinkles along his face.
"Dr. Albert Stanton, I presume," he greeted, holding out a hand. As I shook the hand, he continued. "I'm glad to see you're on time; there's a lot that we have to discuss. If you'll follow me inside." He stepped aside, motioning for me to step inside the shuttle.
The interior of the shuttle was cramped. The small room at the back was stocked with columns of unmarked steel containers, each with the Starfleet insignia along the sides. The main room of the shuttle was crowded with the control panels that combined helm, tactical, comm, and science stations. Two chairs were bolted to the floor at the control panel. The panels were all dark, with the dim lights of the room reflected off the smooth, plastic surface of the panels. Above the panel were the main view screens, which currently were looking out over the hustle and bustle of the landing bay. The floor was a simple expanse of blue steel.
Captain West motioned for me to have a seat in one of the two chairs in the main room. We sat down at just about the same time, and he spoke once more.
"I'm sure you're wondering why you were requested to come here, today, Dr. Stanton."
I nodded. "Yes, sir. My work never brings me to this station. In fact, this is the first time I've been here since I arrived on this planet."
"Understandable. Your field of work is archeology, correct? You are requested to return to Starfleet Command HQ on Earth immediately. Since the Endeavor was the closest ship to Metrima IV at the moment, we were sent to escort you back to Earth."
I raised an eyebrow. "Sir, any word on why I'm needed back at Starfleet Command? My deployment here wasn't due to expire for another seven days."
"Admiral McCoy gave no word as to why they sent for you, only that you are to arrive at Command as soon as possible. Do you have any belongings here you need to gather before departing? Anyone you need to speak with?"
I thought first of Chris. I hadn't exactly said good-bye to him, and if I was going to be taken back to Earth, there was no telling if I would be back in time to speak with him again. "Yes, sir, it's my friend, Chris. I would like to say good-bye before we leave."
"Very well, then," West nodded. "You've got until 1300 hours. This shuttle will be departing at that time, whether or not you are on board. Understood?"
"Yes, sir, thank you, sir." I stood, and made my way out of the shuttle. I quickly thought over the places Chris was likely to be at this time of the morning, and decided to check back at the strip of beach where we often hung out. Destination in mind, I hurried off.
The taxi pulled to a stop, near the unpaved exit that lead to the beach. I handed the driver a few paper bills, and climbed out of the cab. As I ran down the sandy slope, the taxi pulled away.
At the edge of the beach stood Chris, sitting on the deck of the sloop. He looked up as I ran down the hill, and grinned.
"What brings you around here, Al?" he asked, glancing around. He didn't smile, though.
"I've just received word that I've been asked to return to Starfleet Command. I wanted to talk with you one last time; I don't know when I'll see you again."
"Returning to Earth, huh? Any idea why?"
"No. Captain Johnathan West, of the Endeavor, is at the spaceport to provide transport back to Earth. He wasn't told why I was needed back at Command." I looked around, and noticed the expanse of ocean was empty. It usually was, but there was an ominous feeling about the emptiness, today. "Why aren't you out on the ocean, yet?"
"I'm not allowed. An all-points bulletin was sent out, from the government, just a few hours ago. Something crashed into the ocean last night, but the officials don't want anyone out on the ocean, just in case..."
"And they've not said anything about what they suspect it is, right?" He nodded. "Expected as much. Well, Chris, you should check it out. So what if you're not allowed to? Since when did we follow rules like that? Go check it out, and keep me apprised." The smile faded from my face. "Well, I guess this is good-bye, then."
"Not for good, I expect," Chris was quick to reply. "We'll see each other again. I've no doubt about that. I hope everything goes okay back at HQ. See you, Al."
I arrived back at the spaceport with a couple of hours yet to spare. Captain West was waiting patiently in the shuttle. I settled down in the unoccupied chair, and West powered up the shuttle.
"If all goes well, Dr. Stanton, we should have you back at HQ in three days."
"What mission were you on, in this sector, if I may ask, sir?"
"Actually, we had just completed a mission. We had received word that the border ship, Starblade, hadn't filed its routine mission reports for a few days. Starfleet wanted to investigate the situation, and, of the two ships in the vicinity, the Endeavor was closest." One of the sections of the panel indicated that the shuttle had clearance to depart. West tapped in a few commands, and the docking hatch sealed as the shuttle lifted from the platform. My stomach lurched as the shuttle lifted vertically into the air. Through the view screens, I saw the spaceport fall away as the shuttle climbed higher into the air.
A few minutes later, the shuttle had broken free of the atmosphere of Metrima IV, and the Endeavor came into view. As a Magellan-class vessel, the Endeavor was simply a saucer section with warp nacelles extending from the top back of the saucer. The light from the planet below was reflected off of the underside of the ship's hull. Dots of light specked the side of the saucer as the ship drifted along.
West opened hailing frequencies with the ship. "Captain West to Endeavor, I am on my way back. Prepare Shuttle Bay 2."
"Aye, Captain. Shuttle Bay 2 is ready for your return."
The Endeavor loomed ever closer, as the shuttle came in to dock. The shuttle came to a stop in a vast hangar, alongside an identical craft. Although I couldn't see the landing bay doors from inside the shuttle, I knew the routine that would take place now that the shuttle was in place. A force field would cover the open doorway, while the inner and outer doors would fall closed. While the doors were closing, the shuttle bay would be pressurized and filled with breathable air. By the time the doors were completely closed, the shuttle bay would be safe to move around in.
Even from within the cabin of the shuttle, I could hear the reverberating sound of the gears turning to close the sets of doors. I stood from the chair, and began to the back of the shuttle, as Captain West powered down the craft. At length, the docking door swung open, and I stepped out onto the cold concrete that constituted the floor of the shuttle bay, West right behind me.
"Your quarters are in room 21B, on deck 12," West informed me, crossing the room to the main door. "As I said before, it should only take three days to make it back to Earth, given that nothing comes up in the meantime." The door opened, and he stepped out into the hallway, not pausing to glance back. I took a few moments to look around the shuttle bay; this was my first time being aboard a Magellan-class starship. For most of my deployments, I rode aboard Arceus-class vessels, which were by no means high-class transports. I headed out to the corridor, in search of a turbolift.
