Captain’s Log, Stardate 49761.1:

The Dauntless has been assigned to patrol the Romulan Neutral Zone.  Intelligence reports have noted an unusual amount of Romulan activity near the Galorndon Sector, and Starfleet Command feels it best to ‘Show The Flag’ in the area.  In the meantime, I’m using the spare time this will afford to meet our newest crewmembers.

Koester, out.

 

 

            The most unusual feature about the Klingon standing on the Bridge before Captain Peter Koester was the way his ears pointed.  Or perhaps the oddest feature of the Romulan in front of the Captain was his ridged forehead and gruff personality.

 

            Either way, Ensign Korlan deTuille was a very unusual crewmember.

 

            “You come highly recommended,” the Captain said to the Klingon/Romulan hybrid as he glanced from the padd containing Ensign deTuille’s service record to his First Officer, newly promoted Lt Commander Virgil Dylan Kane.  “Though I question Starfleet’s need of an Intelligence Officer aboard, I suppose it’s a good idea for this mission.”

 

            deTuille remained silent and stone-faced, simply looking at the Captain.  Koester, feeling slightly uncomfortable, continued.

 

            “Uh.... Though most of the time I suppose we’ll be more likely to require your services as Helmsman.”

 

            deTuille remained silent.

 

            Koester stood, offered his hand, and said, “Welcome aboard, Mister deTuille.”  deTuille looked at the Captain’s hand, back at the Captain’s face, and remained stone silent.

 

            “Uh....  That’ll be all.  Dismissed,” Koester said.

 

            The Captain almost felt a wave of relief as deTuille entered the turbolift.

 

            The Bridge bustle was slightly subdued this day as the ship made its way toward the Romulan Neutral Zone.  At the Helm, Ensign Ethan Othello, another recent addition to the crew, adjusted the course slightly, as Commander Q hovered nearby watching over him.  Ensign Xavier ‘Xenon’ Adosh, who seemed to have a more ‘military’ attitude to Koester than most Starfleet Officers, manned the Engineering Station.  And at the rear of the Bridge, Lt(JG) Ga’gh Schuukveldlaan, a native of the planet Wilryk in the Gamma Quadrant, and the first being from the Gamma Quadrant to join Starfleet, stood watch at the Security/Tactical station.

 

            “Mister Shoo...  Mister Shuck...  Mister Shuuv...,” Koester stuttered.  “Aw, hell.... Lieutenant Ga’gh, what’s the status of the short range sensor calibration?”

 

            The huge alien, built like a Klingon warrior but with an intellect closer to that of a mature Vulcan, looked up at his new captain.

 

            “Everything A-Okay and on schedule, Captain,” Ga’gh said.  “Sensors will be at optimal condition upon reaching our patrol area.”

 

            “Very well.  Exec, who do I meet next?” Koester asked as he returned to his seat.

 

            Kane checked the computer screen between the two command chairs and smiled conspiratorially as he said, “Our new Command Master Chief.”

 

            A smile spread on Koester’s face as he said, “Ah, yes.  Our COB.”

 

            And almost as if on cue, the turbolift door opened and the new ‘Chief of the Boat’ stepped down to stand before the Captain.  Koester’s jaw fell.

 

            “Chief Kyman?!” the Captain exclaimed.

 

            Master Chief Petty Officer Pono R. Kyman did a double-take on the CO as he himself asked, “Captain...Kirk?!?”

 

            The Bridge was dead silent for a moment, than suddenly filled with the raucous sound of laughter as the entire Bridge crew, except the Captain and Chief Kyman, broke down laughing.

 

            “Him?  The legendary Captain Kirk?” howled Q.  “Hardly!”

 

            Koester and Kyman simply looked at each other, Koester’s finally saying, “It seems we have a lot to talk about, COB.”

 

            Kyman nodded, than smiled.

 

 

Space, the Final Frontier...

These are the voyages of the starship Dauntless.

Her five-year mission...

To Seek, To Chart, To Explore.

Slipping the surly bonds of Earth,

Going where none have been before.

 

Star Trek: Dauntless

 

“Playthings” By PJK

 

 

            Sub-Comander Truul adjusted his sensors.  Despite all the wonderful things the ability to cloak had provided for the Star Empire, it still bothered the Sub-Commander the way the cloaking shields degraded his sensor’s abilities.

 

            “I read no other ships in the area, Commander,” Truul reported. 

 

            Commander Tembok smiled and said, “I expected no less, Sub-Commander.  As I said all along, the reports are exaggerations and overblown.”

 

            “But, Commander,” Truul said.  “Shouldn’t you put some reliability in the reports of five fellow commanders?”

 

            Tembok sneered.

 

            “Fools and favorites promoted merely to fill a quota.  But it is no matter either way.  The galaxy trembles at the name of the Warbird Romulus!”

 

            The Romulan flagship, Romulus, under full cloak, was patrolling the Romulan side of the Neutral Zone it shared with the United Federation of Planets.  While a simple patrol was normally beneath the level of the Star Empire’s flagship, the recent reports of loss of ship control and even one Warbird lost to a crash on a planet’s surface, all in the region called the Ulthia Delta, prompted the Romulan Praetor to send his best ship, his best crew, to investigate.

 

            “Helmsman,” the Commander said.  “Move on to the next sector.”

 

            “Yes, Commander,” the Helmsman responded, and the Romulus moved on toward the Galorndon Sector.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            The Dauntless dropped out of warp just outside the Galorndon System and assumed a patrol of the Neutral Zone.

 

            Meanwhile, in the Captain’s Ready Room, Captain Koester and his COB, Master Chief Kyman, were sitting at the desk, discussing the events leading to their unexpected reunion.

 

            “Until this morning, I had always wondered how we’d escaped from the Providence,” said Kyman as he took a sip from his coffee mug.  “I could never recall leaving Control or using the Escape Trunk.  And all the times I relived the battle while in the Nexus, that was the one part that always eluded me until Mister Kane let me in on it when we met earlier.”

 

            “History had to remain on track, COB.  Taking the sub into battle and beaming out at the last second seemed the only way to fulfill history.”

 

            “Captain, I’ll be one of the last to complain about what you did back then,” Kyman said with a slight laugh.  “Because otherwise I wouldn’t be here to complain.”

 

            The Captain placed his tea cup back on its saucer and was about to add another comment when he was suddenly interrupted by a voice with a thick Louisiana accent on the intercom.

 

            “Cap’n, shields jus snapped on-line,” reported Commander Ray Russell.  “Soundin’ yella alert.”

 

            “Acknowledged,” said Koester.  “I’m on my way.”

 

            Koester, followed quickly by Kyman, stepped out through the Ready Room doors and onto the Bridge.

 

            “Report.”

 

            “Thay ain’t nothin’ out thea,” Russell said with confusion.

 

            “Mister Ga’gh?”

 

            “Sensors are clear,” the Wilryk stated.

 

            “Then what activated...”

 

            Koester’s sentence was cut short by the fact he suddenly found himself, along with most everyone else on the Bridge, laying on the deck.

 

            “What happened?” the young captain demanded to know.

 

            “Unknown, sir,” reported Othello, sweat running down the Betazoid’s dark skin.  “I’ve lost helm control.  We’re heading into the Neutral Zone.”

 

*          *          *          *

 

            “Commander,” said Truul.  “I’m sorry to disturb your dinner, but I think you should see this.”

 

            “Yes, Truul, if you’re interrupting my dinner it must be important,” Commander Tembok said, his voice full of sarcasm.  Tembok stood, murmered his apologies to the Centurians and Sub-Commanders sitting at the table around him, and walked out onto the Bridge.

 

            “So what is it, Truul?”

 

            Truul looked up at his commander and said, “Sensors just picked this up, moving across the Neutral Zone.”  He transferred the image to the viewscreen.

 

            The image was fuzzy, due no doubt to the distance involved and the fact the Romulus was cloaked, but what could be seen astonished Tembok.  On the screen was pictured a Federation starship, one of their new Intrepid-class vessels according to recent intelligence reports, moving quickly across the Neutral Zone.  But what puzzled Tembok and Truul the most was the fact the ship was moving sideways, against the direction of its propulsion.

 

            Tembok’s upswept eyebrows crossed in annoyance.

 

            “Why are they doing that?”

 

            The question amazed Truul, in as much as it made no recognition of the fact the Federation ship was violating the treaty.  He scanned the ship again.

 

            “According to sensors, their warp drive is engaged, full reverse, but still it seems they are being pulled across the Neutral Zone.

 

            “Maybe those other reports weren’t such nonsense after all, ehh, Truul?” Tembok mumbled with a hint of amusement.  “Helmsman, plot an intercept course.”

 

            The Helmsman started to enter the new course into the Warbird’s computer, but before he could reply, another officer reported, “Commander, our cloak has dropped!”  And suddenly the Romulus seemed to be turned on its side.  The crew went flying.  And the Pride of the Romulan Fleet headed into the Neutral Zone on a collision course with the Dauntless.

 

            With the Warbird and the Dauntless headed toward one another at a speed just below the warp threshold.  Collision seemed eminent, when suddenly, only a few hundred meters apart, both ships suddenly changed course, and moving sideways as if being dragged, moved deeper into the Neutral Zone.

 

*          *          *          *

 

Captain’s Log, Stardate 49766.8:

Having been dragged across space by an unknown force, the Dauntless now finds itself in orbit of a small, uncharted, barely class-M planet in the heart of the Romulan Neutral Zone.  Sharing our orbit, to our alarm, is a Romulan Warbird that decloaked while on a collision course with us two hours ago. 

Apparently the Romulans are as powerless as we are, but tensions are running high and I’m keeping the Dauntless at yellow alert.

Koester, out.

 

 

            “What’s your opinion, Mister deTuille?  Could this be some sort of Romulan trap?” Koester asked his new Intelligence Officer.  The half-Klingon/half-Romulan Starfleet Officer looked thoughtful for a moment, the only expression Koester had seen on deTuille other than his usual stone-faced expression since the new officer had reported aboard.

 

            “Theoretically, I suppose two or three Warbirds in tandem could tow an Intrepid-class starship like we were, but that would assume they could use high power tractor beams while cloaked, without us detecting the tractors.  And if they could do that, why not simply destroy us?  And why drag one of their own ships here as well?” deTuille offered.

 

            “In other words, that explaination raises more questions then it answers,” Koester said.  deTuille started to shrug and ended the motion with a nod.

 

            “Mister Othello, status?” the Captain requested.

 

            The new Helmsman rechecked his status board and confirmed, “All control is normal, Captain.  We’re in a standard orbit of this small planet.  The Warbird remains in a geostationary orbit two-hundred kilometers higher.”

 

            “Mister Russell, what’s the Warbird’s status?”

 

            “Thea at mimimal powa, sah.  Shields lowad and weapons off-line.”

 

            “Mister Shoo...  Mister Sh...  Damn...  Mister Ga’gh, hail the Warbird.”

 

            The Wilryk Junior Officer pressed the indicator.  A moment later he reported, “Hailing frequencies open.”

 

            “Romulan ship, this is Captain Peter J. Koester of the Federation starship Dauntless.”

 

            The screen blinked to the image of a Romulan Commander sitting in his own command chair.

 

            “Tembok, commanding the Romulan flagship Romulus,” the Commander said.

 

            Counselor Sutherland, who until this point had been standing near the Science Station, sat down in the small seat to the Captain’s right and spoke softly in his ear.

 

            “Captain, the Romulan Commander is presenting a confident front, but underneath he’s confused and worried.”

 

            Koester nodded and said, “Thank you, Counselor.”  Then to Tembok, “Commander, I want to assure you that we are not responsible for our ships being towed to this planet.”

 

            “That much is obvious,” Tembok said with contempt.  “But what are your intentions now?”

 

            “It appears ship control has been restored to the Dauntless.  Our intention is to break orbit and return to our own side of the Neutral Zone.  Do you still require assistance, Commander Tembok?”

 

            “No, but your concern is noted, Captain.  We too will resume our mission on our side of the Zone.”

 

            “Very well.  Dauntless, out.”

 

            Koester motioned to Ga’gh to cut the com line.  The screen changed to the view of the stars and the light-tan planet spinning below.

 

            “Mister Othello, plot a course back to our patrol route.  Engage, warp 2.”

 

            “Plotting a...  Captain, I have a problem!” Othello said.

 

            “What is it?” Koester asked, though it was obvious.  The planet on the screen had suddenly taken up most of the view.  Dauntless’ orbit was deteriorating.

 

            “Helm, full impulse.  Take us out of orbit.”

 

            “I’ve lost control of impulse and warp drive.”

 

            “Bridge to Engineering,” Koester almost shouted.  “What’s the status of our drive systems?”

 

            “Impulse systems and warp drive are on-line and at 100%,” responded the ship’s new Warp Field Specialist, Ensign Nathanial Johnson.  “We should be running like a scalded monkey!”

 

            “Cap’n, we’re entern’ the atmosphere,” reported Russell.  “Outa hull tempcha 100 degrees C and risin’!”

 

            “Raise full shields!” Koester ordered, than mumbled to himself, “I swore I’d never do this.”  He turned back toward the helm.  “Prepare to deploy the landing legs!”

 

            “Shields ‘r non-responsive,” Russell reported.

 

            “What next?” Koester demanded rhetorically.

 

            Hull tempcha 150 degrees C.”

 

            “Mister Othello?”

 

            “Nothing, sir,” Othello responded in frustration, uselessly pounding on his controls.

 

            The Dauntless plunged into the planet’s atmosphere, starting to glow a dull orange color.

 

            “Two minutes until structural collapse,” Russell reported.  “Exteria tempcha, 200 degrees C.  Interia tempcha, 91 degrees.”

 

            Koester’s thoughts momentarily turned to his young daughter, right now attending nursery school in the ship’s training facilities, and to Q, with whom he shared a mysterious bond.  Perhaps she could...

 

            “Cap’n!  The Romulan ship’s just locked a tractor beam on us.  Our speed is slowin’ and we’re headin’ back up to orbit!” Russell said with a grin.

 

            Koester smiled slightly and mumbled under his breath, “Thank you, Tembok.”  Then to Othello, “Assist with thrusters.”

 

            As the Dauntless cleared the atmosphere and its hull cooled, Othello reported, “Full control has returned, Captain.”

 

            “Finally!  Bring us alongside the Romulan vessel.”

 

            “Captain,” said Counselor Sutherland.  “I’m sensing something.  A strong emotion, something akin to...  amusement.”

 

            “Coming from the Romulans?” Koester asked with suspicion.

 

            “No, from...”

 

            Before Sutherland could finish, the turbolift doors snapped open and Q barreled out, shouting, “The planet!”

 

            “Yes,” Sutherland confirmed.

 

            “I can feel a great power there,” Q explained.  “So powerful that it seems to fill this area of space.”

 

            “Captain!” exclaimed Chief Kyman as the turbolift doors snapped open again and the El’Aurian entered the Bridge.

 

            “Don’t tell me, let me guess.  You sense a powerful presence?” Koester asked.

 

            “No.  I do sense something though...  This may sound funny to you, sir...  I sense... immaturity.”

 

            Now Koester was completely confused.

 

            “Mister Kane,” Koester said, turning toward his First Officer.  “I want you to assemble an Away Team.”

 

            Kane nodded, but his reply was interrupted by Russell at the Ops Station.

 

            “Transpotas won work, Cap’n.  I don’t know if it’s the ionizashun our passage through the atmosphea caused, or some field emminatin’ from the planet, but transpotas are useless.”

 

            “Great,” Koester mumbled.  “Bridge to Engineering.”

 

            “Engineering.  Lt Commander Bloom.”

 

            “Jeff, I want you to ready the Alamo for immediate departure.”

 

            Koester looked at those gathered around him, deciding the priorities of who he needed where.

 

            “Commander Q will be in the shuttlebay shortly.  I want the two of you to investigate the planet below.”

 

            Sutherland was about to protest when Koester raised his hand to stop her.

 

            “I need you here in case we have to deal with the Romulans again, Counselor,” he explained.  “And upon careful consideration, I’d rather not do without my First Officer right now either.  Q, go.”

 

            “Aye, Captain,” the Trill said and disappeared into the turbolift a second later.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            Dauntless, this is the shuttlepod Alamo.  We have cleared the shuttlebay,” Bloom said over the comlink.

 

            “Confirmed, Alamo.  Keep in touch,” responded Lieutenant Ga’gh’s voice.

 

            Slowly, the shuttlepod descended toward the planet’s surface.  As the small craft entered the planet’s atmosphere, a light began to quickly flash on the control panel.

 

            “Uh-oh,” said Bloom.  “Lost control indications, lost vector thrusters...  We’re going down!”

 

            Q immediately hailed the Dauntless.

 

            Alamo to Dauntless!  Alamo to Dauntless!  We’ve lost all control and are heading for a crash on the planet’s surface.  Can you lock on and beam us up?”

 

            Koester, on the Bridge of the Dauntless, looked toward Russell with concern.

 

            “I’m sorra, Cap’n.  The ionizashun field won let me lock on!”

 

            “Tractor beam!” Koester shouted to Ga’gh.

 

            “Out of range,” the Wilryk answered.

 

            “God-dammit, we’ve got to do something!” Koester almost screamed.  He could feel the terror of the two in the shuttlepod.  Sutherland moved over, taking the Captain’s arm and leading him back to his chair, simultaneously transferring some of the terror from him.

 

            The shuttlepod began to roll over and over.  Recovery had become an impossibility, even if control was restored.  The ground loomed closer and closer, coming at the two Starfleet Officers faster and faster.

 

            And then the shuttle impacted on the surface.

 

            “NO!” Koester screamed, a tear making its way down his face.

 

            Everyone on the Bridge, especially those who had been aboard the Dauntless since its launch, knew how close the Captain was to the Chief Engineer, and more so to Q.

 

            Kane looked up at Russell, asking, “Is there any chance there were survivors?”

 

            Russell silently shook his head.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            The Dauntless drew closer to the huge Warbird when suddenly the Romulan ship spun away, tumbling around and around out of orbit.  Captain Koester, who had been sitting down on the couch in his Ready Room, attempting to regain his composure after the emotional gauntlet he had just been through, saw the immense green starship tumble away.  The Captain stood up to return to the Bridge when just as suddenly the Dauntless too was pulled out of orbit, heading out into space in the opposite direction from the Romulus.

 

            Koester entered the Bridge to find his crew again sitting helplessly as the ship was drawn away by the unknown force.

 

            “This is getting real old, real fast,” Koester complained.

 

            “Distance from planet, one-million kilometers,” reported Othello.

 

            “Distance from Warbird, two-million five-hundred thousand kilometers,” reported Ga’gh.

 

            The distance kept increasing until the Warbird was barely detectable on the long range scanners.  Then all at once the ship became motionless.

 

            “Report,” said Kane from the XO’s chair.

 

            “We’re motionless in space relative to the planet, now two-hundred million kilometers distant.  All systems for propulsion still unresponsive,” Russell reported.

 

            Koester looked at Kane and said, “What’s next?”

 

            “Sir, we’re moving forward at maximum impulse,” reported Othello.

 

            “Very good.  Get us out of here!”

 

            “But, sir,” the young Betazoid said.  “I’m not doing it.”

 

            “Cap’n,” said Russell, causing both Koester and his First Officer to turn around.  “Accordin’ ta sensors, we’re on a direct collision course with th’ Romulus, also comin’ at us at full impulse speed.”

 

            “Dear God, not again,” Koester muttered.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            On the planet’s surface, two figures extracted themselves from the wreckage of the shuttlepod Alamo.  While Bloom was bruised, and green blood ran down from the corner of his mouth and along his arms, Q seemed surprisingly unharmed.  Bloom looked at her, one eyebrow almost touching his bangs.

 

            “We should have been killed in that crash,” he said.

 

            “Old 20th century crash survival position,” she shrugged.  “Guess it still works, huh?”

 

            Bloom chuckled.  As he finished climbing out of the wreck, Q checked through their equipment.

 

            “Tricorder’s shot,” she said.  “But my combadge is still functional.”  Tapping it, she tried to raise the Dauntless.

 

            “Nothing,” she said after a couple of fruitless attempts.

 

            “You don’t suppose they were destroyed?” Bloom asked with alarm.

 

            Q closed her eyes for a moment, her concentration elsewhere.  When she looked at Bloom again she simply stated, “No.”

 

            The two officers started to gather their survival equipment out of what remained of the Alamo.  As they did, Bloom suddenly stiffened, stood straight, and seemed to be listening very intently.

 

            “What is it?” Q asked.

 

            “Listen,” Bloom said, his pointed ears perking a little more as he tried to locate the source of what he heard.

 

            Q’s puzzled look strengthened as Bloom grabbed her arm and lead her over a rise.  When the two reached the top what they saw on the other side astonished them.

 

            Three people lounged around atop a checkered blanket, an almost typical family scene.  The family looked almost exactly like those portrayed in the black & white situation comedies of Earth’s 1950’s.  The ‘father’ relaxed off to one side, wearing a business suit and tie.  The ‘mother’ wore a pink dress with a necklace of pearls.  And the ‘little boy’, off to a side by himself, wore a red and white striped shirt, shorts, black suspenders, and a little propeller beanie cap.  The mother and father sat together, apparently talking to one another, while the young boy played with his toys by himself, which he ‘flew’ straight toward one another.  Toys that looked remarkably like the Dauntless and the Romulus.  And just off the edge of the blanket, a crushed toy shuttlepod.

 

            “Hello?” Q called out to the family.  At first it seemed no one heard her.

 

            “Excuse me?  Hello!” shouted out Bloom.

 

            The mother glanced over toward the two disheveled Starfleet Officers as they climbed over the low hill, then looked at the boy with annoyance.

 

            “How many times do I have to tell you to play nicely without hurting the little pets you find or breaking your new toys?” she said.  “I’ll just have to take them away until you learn.”

 

            “But mom!” the boy whined.

 

            “No buts,” the mother said.

 

            “Listen to your mother,” the father advised.

 

            Continuing to ignore Bloom and Q’s attempts to greet them, the mother started picking up the young boy’s toys, placing them in the pockets of the apron that now covered the front of her pink dress.

 

            “Come now, it’s time to go home.”

 

            “Aww, mom, do we hafta?” the boy pleaded.

 

            “Yes, it’s half a millennium past your bed time.  Coming, dear?” the mother said, turning her attention to the father.  But as Bloom and Q made their way down the other side of the rise and started running toward the family the three of them simply faded from sight, along with the blanket and all evidence they had ever been there.

 

            Q and Bloom looked at each other.

 

            “What were they?” Bloom asked.

 

            “I don’t know,” Q responded.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            “Distance, one-thousand kilometers and decreasing rapidly,” Ga’gh reported, excitement accenting his voice.  “Time to impact, thirty seconds.”

 

            The moments ticked by, second by second.  The Warbird loomed closer and closer.  Sweat dripped like molasses down the back of Koester’s neck.

 

            “Captain!  I have control again!” Othello exclaimed.

 

            “Impact in ten seconds!” Ga’gh reported.

 

            “Warp us out!  Full impulse!  Do something!” Koester shouted.

 

            “Too late to alter course!  This’ll have to do!”

 

            A tractor beam, set to repel, emerged from the Dauntless, striking the forward hull of the huge Romulan ship.  But rather than move the Romulus, as most on the Bridge had hoped or expected, and both Koester and Kane knew would not happen with the Warbird’s huge mass, the Dauntless ‘leap-frogged’ over the Romulus, completing its course into orbit on the other side.

 

            A moment later, everyone on the Bridge started breathing again.

 

            “Excellent work, Mister Othello.  Status report, all stations.”

 

            One by one the reports came in.  The tractor beam had overloaded some ship’s systems with the strain, not the least of which was the transporter.  But navigation, propulsion, shields, and weapons were all back on-line and in working order.

 

            “Captain,” said Ga’gh at Tactical.  “I’m getting a communications signal.”

 

            “Put Commander Tembok on the screen,” Koester ordered.

 

            “No, sir.  It’s from...”

 

            “Away Team to Dauntless.  Nice of you to come back for us.”

 

            Q?” Koester asked with hope.

 

            “Who else, you schmuck!”

 

            “Are you alright?  Is Mister Bloom with you?”

 

            “I’m here, Captain,” the Vulcan’s voice responded with happiness.  “We’re both fine.  Though I think we put a dent or two on the Alamo.”

 

            Koester could not help but laugh.

 

            “We’re ready to beam up,” Q’s voice said, also sounding happy.

 

            “Well, Away Team, we’d love to accommodate you, but the transporters are down.  We estimate...”  Koester looked at Ensign Adosh.

 

            “Sir, four hours to repair, Sir!”

 

            Koester rolled his eyes, than repeated the estimate to Q and Bloom.

 

            “We’ll send down a shuttlecraft,” he added.

 

            “We’ll be waiting,” Q responded.

 

*          *          *          *

 

            Q tapped her combadge to close the channel when she unexpectedly felt a somewhat familiar tingle cover her body and a hum filled the air.

 

            Bloom and Q found themselves materialized on the transporter of the Romulan ship.  Before them stood two Centurians, a Sub-Commander, and Commander Tembok.  Q and Bloom looked nervously at each other through the corners of their eyes, and slowly lifted their hands in surrender.

 

            “I offer you a ‘lift’ and this is how you thank me?” Tembok asked, mild contempt in his voice.  Bloom’s eyebrow again rose as Q warily lowered her arms.

 

            “I wish to send my thanks to your Captain,” Tembok said.  “If your ship had not activated its repulsor beam when it did, both of our vessels would have been destroyed.  I only wish I could explain to my superiors what happened here.”

 

            “We may have a partial explanation,” Q offered and the two Starfleet Officers began to tell, quite expressively, what they had seen on the planet’s surface.  When Q and Bloom had finished, Tembok, still very skeptical, looked at Sub-Commander Truul.

 

            “Opinion, Truul?”

 

            “There are still a great many things we don’t understand in this universe, Commander,” Truul said.

 

            “You’re as vague and meaningless as ever,” Tembok complained, then pressed a button on the transporter console.

 

            “Tembok to Dauntless.  I have your two crew members aboard the Romulus.  Ready to beam them to your ship.”

 

            Koester’s astonished voice answered, “Thank you, Commander.  Much appreciated.”

 

            “And I believe, Captain, that when you debrief your crew, you will make the same recommendation to your Starfleet Command that I will make to my government.  That the area we refer to as the Ulthia Delta, your Galorndon Sector, should be placed off-limits.   ...For safety reasons.”

 

            As Tembok closed the comlink, he looked back at the two Starfleet Officers still standing on the transporter platform.

 

            “Goodbye, Commander Q.  And it was a true pleasure meeting you, Commander Bloom.  You were no where near as boring as most of our Vulcan cousins can be,” Tembok said.  Bloom chuckled as the transporter energized and he and Q faded to nothingness.

 

*          *          *          *

 

Captain’s Log, Stardate 49770.2:

I have recommended to Starfleet that marker buoys be placed around the Galorndon Sector, warning ships not to enter or risk possible damage and destruction.  The Dauntless is moving on to her next assignment.

Koester, out.

 

Personal Log, Stardate 49770.2:

What was it Q and Bloom encountered on the planet?  Obviously beings of great power and intellect, but where did they come from?  What are they called?  And what do they truly look like?  At first I thought maybe they were other beings from the Q Continuum, but Poe assures me they aren’t.  They even looked down on her as an inferior being.  Merely a pet to be played with.

Perhaps one day we will evolve enough to be considered their equals.  But for now, it’s best to stay out from underfoot.

 

The End

 

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