Captain’s
Log, Stardate 52587.5:
Dauntless has been assigned by Admiral Ross to establish communications with a
newly encountered alien species in the hopes of recruiting a new ally against
the Dominion. However, things are not
going as well as hoped...
“Status?”
asked Commodore Koester as he leaned forward in his command chair, peering at
the image of the menacing looking vessel following them closely on the main viewscreen.
“We’re
at full impulse on a heading of 231 mark 9,” reported
Lt Francis Lenny from the Helm, sweat running down the sides of the young
officer’s face.
“The
alien vessel is firing upon us again,” added Lt(JG)
Jason O’Brien Blackfoot T’Vet Korsal,
the Assistant Chief Tactical Officer from his post to the right of the Captain’s
Chair. The entire bridge shook with the
impact of the strange unearthly weapon. “Shields down to 75%!”
“Continue
hailing with universal friendship messages on all frequencies,” Koester
ordered.
“Maintaining
friendship hail,” confirmed the Ops Officer, Lt(JG)
Nate Noorde.
“How
long are you going to keep this up, Skipper?” Executive Officer Virgil Dylan
Kane asked from the seat to Koester’s immediate right, the impact shock forcing
the top clip of his silver Bajoran earring to come
loose from the human’s earlobe and dangling for a moment before Kane reached up
and grabbed the entire piece of jewelry off his ear. Koester turned to look at his First Officer.
“As long as I can, Exec.
As long as I can.”
Space, the Final Frontier…
These are the voyages of the
starship Dauntless!
Its ongoing mission;
To seek, to
chart, to explore…
Slipping the surly bonds of Earth,
Going where none have been before!
Star Trek:
Dauntless
“Threshold” By PJK
“Commodore,”
called out Commander Jeff Bloom, the ship’s emotional Vulcan Chief Science
Officer from his station next to Tactical.
“The alien vessel is firing a form of plasma-beam weapon at us. I estimate the shields will not be able to
withstand more than another two or three volleys at best.”
Koester
looked again at his First Officer, sighing loudly, then
stood from his chair and took three steps toward the viewscreen.
“Patch
me through to the alien vessel,” Koester ordered.
“Hailing
frequency opened,” Noorde confirmed.
Koester
cleared his throat, then said, “This is Commodore
Peter J. Koester of the Federation starship Dauntless. We have no wish to fire upon you. We only want to open a dialogue between our
people and yours for our mutual benefit.
Please break off your attack so we may talk.”
A
quiet moment passed, during which Koester started becoming hopeful. A couple of members of the Bridge crew
started breathing normally again.
Until
the Tactical Officer spoke once more.
“They’re
firing again!”
The
Bridge again shook violently, almost knocking Koester to the deck. He carefully sat back down in his command
seat, helped in place by Counselor Sutherland who sat beside him to his left.
“Shields
down to 48%,” the hybrid Terran/Betazoid/Vulcan/Klingon
Tac Officer reported.
O’B, as he was called by those aboard the Dauntless, consulted his status board and added, “Main phaser power is down.
We can lock and load a few aft torpedo shots if you wish, sir.”
Koester
shook his head and said, “We don’t want to further aggravate the
situation. I’d rather just warp out of
this sector and try this again at a later date.”
Another
impact shook the starship, as if adding an exclamation point to the CO’s last statement.
“Captain!”
shouted O’B. “Shields just dropped!”
Koester
sprung from his seat as he barked his next order.
“Mister
Lenny, warp factor 5, now! Mister Noorde, discontinue the hails.” He then turned to face the Tactical
post. “Mister Korsal,
get those shields back up again!”
The
Dauntless quickly jumped to warp
speed, just as a final plasma bolt from the alien craft struck the starship’s
starboard warp nacelle.
“Damage
report?” Koester ordered.
“Power
taps and main phaser coils will need replacement,”
informed O’B. “Shields are back in place
though.”
“Minor
structural damage to the starboard warp pylon, but no other serious damage to
the hull,” added Noorde from Ops.
“Minor
burn on Lt Dar’s right hand,” said Counselor Sutherland as she guided the half-Klingon man toward the turbolift. “I’m escorting him down to Sickbay so Dr. Q can have a look at him.”
“Very
well,” nodded Koester. “What about our
engines?”
Commander
Bloom, who had been the Chief Engineer aboard the previous Dauntless-74658, quickly slipped into the seat of the Engineering
console and consulted the readouts.
“One
of our nacelles took a direct hit just before we engaged warp, but there doesn’t
seem to be any damage a re-tuning can’t fix.”
“Very good. Mister
Lenny,” Koester said, sitting down in his center seat. “Set course back toward Federation space and
drop out of warp.”
“Yes...
uh..., sir,” Lenny said, acting somewhat confused.
“Is
there a problem, Lieutenant?” Koester asked.
“I’m
not sure, Commodore,” Lenny replied. “I’m
getting some very strange readings on my console. My astrogator is no
longer registering correctly.”
“Take
us out of warp then. Lets
get a proper navigational fix and go from there,” Koester suggested.
“Aye, sir. Dropping out of warp now.”
Koester
watched the screen as the starlines, usually streaks
of rainbow light from their faster-than-light travel but now just streaks of
white, expanded and covered the screen.
“What
the...?” Koester mumbled.
“What
happened?” Virgil Kane asked.
The
entire Bridge crew stared with a mixture of fascination and fear at what
appeared on the viewscreen. Absolutely nothing. No stars.
No planets. No galaxies or
nebula. Nothing but an
eternity of white.
“Where
are we?” Lt(JG) Noorde
asked.
“I....
don’t know,” answered Lt Lenny.
* * * *
In
the Briefing Lounge just behind the Bridge, Commodore Koester stood quietly
contemplating the glassed-in display where three models representing the Dauntless lineage
shone in gold. Behind him, the starship’s
Command Staff sat around the large briefing table. Behind them, through the large aft facing
windows, could be seen the back end of the Sovereign-class starship’s saucer
hull, the engineering hull, and twin warp nacelles. Beyond them; nothing, except the occasional
spark and crackle of some unknown energy against the starship’s restored shields.
“What
have we determined?” Koester asked without turning toward his staff.
Jeff
Bloom looked up at Koester, his right eyebrow raising in a typically Vulcan
fashion, then read off from the padd in front of him.
“According
to sensor logs, whatever the basis of that alien vessel’s
plasma weapon was, it altered our warp field geometry, increasing our
speed exponentially.”
“Translated
to English?” asked Lt Commander (Carrie) K’danz, the
ship’s Chief of Security.
“I
reviewed the logs from the helm console,” interrupted Lt Commander Kevin Fry,
the Chief Helmsman. “According to the
logs, the ship reached speeds far in excess of the ordered warp factor 5.”
“How far in excess?” Kane asked. Commodore Koester turned to face his staff as
Fry answered.
“I
estimate we reached approximately warp 9.99999999.”
“That’s
impossible!” interjected Dr. Lotus Q,
the Chief Medical Officer.
“Actually, it’s not,” stated Bloom. “I recently read a classified reported
instance where a modified shuttlecraft actually attained the speed we thought
impossible. Warp 10. True transwarp.”
“That’s
all well and good, Commander,” said Command Master Chief Pono
Kyman from his seat near the far end of the
table. “But where does that place us?”
“As
near as we can determine,” Fry answered.
“Beyond the edge of the universe.”
* * * *
“Beyond
the edge...,” Koester whispered to himself as he looked out the transparasteel windows at infinite. He then turned abruptly back toward the
table, sitting in his usual place at the head.
“I
need suggestions for how we can get back to our own Galaxy,” he said.
“Actually,
Commodore, we have a more pressing problem,” said Bloom.
Koester
looked at his Chief Science Officer expectantly.
“Our
shields are registering a constant drain,” said Bloom.
“That
constant crackling?” asked Kane as he glanced out the window as well.
“Yes. Apparently this... region is so hostile to
matter as we know it, we’re barely existing out here
in what I’m calling for lack of a better term, chaos. If we hadn’t been able to raise the shields
before we dropped out of warp, we’d be dead already. This... chaos... is eating away at the
shields. Once they’re gone, it will
start eating away at the hull and other vital systems. I estimate no more than six hours before we
have a breach of hull integrity.”
Koester
looked with urgency toward Lt Commander Fry.
“Mister
Fry, can we just turn around 180 degrees and head back the way we came?”
“I’m
afraid not, Commodore,” Fry answered. “Without
any stars, planets, even some galaxies, the navigational systems are lost. We couldn’t even tell exactly when we were turned
around 180 degrees.”
Koester
looked thoughtful for a moment. The rest
of the Command Staff looked at each other in concern before the Commodore spoke
again.
“There’s
only one answer. Transwarp.”
“Excuse
me, Skipper?!?” asked Kane in alarm.
“It’s
the only way,” said Koester. “Theoretically,
we’d be in every point in the universe at the same time. All we have to do is drop out in the right
place.”
“But,
sir...,” said Chief Engineer Lt
“That
alien plasma beam weapon helped create it.
The sensor readings are on file.
There’s a place to start,” said Koester.
“It’ll
take time,” Johnson warned.
“You
have 5 hours,” Koester said with a humorless smile. “I suggest you get to work. Dismissed.”
Koester
and Kane hurried out onto the Bridge, followed closely by Counselor
Sutherland. However, Johnson stayed
behind, moving closer to Jeff Bloom as the room emptied.
“I
think I’m going to need your help on this one, Commander.”
“My
thoughts exactly,” the human-raised Vulcan man replied, then turned toward the
Chief Medical Officer as she started toward one of the egress doors. “Commander Q, your experience as the previous Chief Science Officer and Head
of Stellar Cartography could be invaluable as well.”
A
slight smile appeared on Q’s face as
she nodded.
“Sickbay
is pretty quiet right now. Sure, I can
help. Meet me in Science Lab 2.”
* * * *
“So
how is this supposed to work?” Koester asked the three crew members standing on
the opposite side of his Ready Room desk.
“As
I said,” replied Lt Johnson. “We’ve jury
rigged the warp nacelles to produce an altered warp field. This field should take us to transwarp or at least near-transwarp
speeds.”
“I
see. I hope you’re keeping in mind that
even just a fraction below transwarp will mean days,
weeks, even months to get back to the Milky Way galaxy and home. Plus we need to be heading in the right
direction or we’ll be drifting forever.
And we only have 2 more hours before that... that energy or lack of
energy or whatever it is starts eating into the hull,” reminded Koester.
“That’s
where I come in,” added Q. “As you know, I have extensive knowledge of
interstellar space.” She winked at
Koester, unseen by either Johnson or Bloom.
“Once we’re in transwarp, I can determine
where and when we should shut down the engines.”
“Very
well,” nodded Koester. “My only concern
with your plan is maintaining the warp field.
If I’m understanding this correctly, won’t a
maneuver of this kind require you to make almost constant minute adjustments?”
“Of
course,” replied Bloom. “Or the field
will collapse and likely destroy our warp engines.”
“How
are you going to do that?” Koester asked, concern spreading on his face. “No one I know can make the
those adjustments fast enough. I
don’t think even the computer could do that.”
“There’s
one crew member that can,” said Bloom with a definitely un-Vulcan grin.
* * * *
“Are
you ready Mister Fry?” Koester asked from his seat at the center of the Bridge.
“Standing
by on both warp and impulse drive systems,” Fry responded.
“Very well. Are you
ready too, Mister Spot?”
The
mechanical sounding, British accented voice of the Dauntless’ non-corporeal Ensign sounded from the speakers around
the Bridge.
“Ready,
willing, and able, Commodore.”
Koester
nodded, then looked briefly at both Commander Kane and
Counselor Sutherland. Both officers
seemed calm yet eager.
“Mister
Fry,” the Commodore said, drawing the Helmsman’s attention. “Warp speed at your discretion.”
“Aye,
sir,” Fry responded, then pressed the control in front of him. “Warp 1...”
As
far as anyone on the bridge could tell visually, the Dauntless had not moved.
There was no physical feeling of movement and the endless field of white
still filled the screen. Fry continued
to count off the speed his instruments indicated.
“Warp
3... Warp 5... Warp 6...”
“Mister
Spot,” said Q, tapping her combadge. “You may
begin your engine tuning.”
“Aye,
aye, Commander,” Spot replied.
* * * *
Back
aft in the starboard warp nacelle, where all the problems that had landed them
outside the universe had begun, the non-corporeal being from Daminia II, who appeared to be no more than a circle of red
light about 3 inches in diameter, ‘jumped’ into the plasma stream emitted by
the injectors and flowed into the heart of the nacelle where the warp coils
thrummed with incredible power, generating the field that propelled the
starship at speeds far in excess of light.
Spot melded with the warp coils, tuning the frequency they emitted,
enhancing the field output. He then
followed the plasma stream back to the warp core and into the port nacelle in
less than the blink of an eye, re-tuning that engine as well.
* * * *
On
the Bridge, Lt Commander Fry continued to relate the increasing speeds.
“Our
speed just jumped! Warp 8... Warp
8.5... 9... 9.5...”
Counselor
Sutherland glanced over at Koester, then smiled
slightly when she noticed the Commodore’s crossed fingers as he stared at the
main viewer.
* * * *
In
Main Engineering, Lt Johnson monitored the warp core closely, his expression
growing concerned as the central dylithium chamber
and the closest surrounding constrictor coils began to glow a dull red.
“Dar,
give me a Level 5 diagnostic on the warp core,” Johnson ordered to one of his
nearby Engineers.
“Diagnostic
indicates all systems functioning normally,” Dar reported a moment later. “Whatever it is, it must be this area of
space, or whatever we’re in, that’s causing it.”
* * * *
“9.6... 9.7...
9.8... 9.9...”
The
tension on the Bridge was so thick it would have taken a phaser
on power level 8 to cut through it. Fry
continued to count off the rising warp speed despite the fact no one could
detect any movement visually even yet.
“Status?” Koester inquired over the thrumming noise of the
engines.
“Shields
are now down to 15%, sir,” Lt Ga’gh, the Chief
Tactical Officer reported from his post.
“I’m
seeing a small drop in the engine power ratio, sir,” responded Lt Kyle
Sutherland from the Engineering station on the other side of the Bridge.
“9.95... 9.96...
9.97... 9.98...”
* * * *
Ensign
Spot again rode the plasma stream into the port nacelle, having re-tuned the
starboard to within a micron of the specifications calculated for transwarp. The Daminian was exhausted from his multiple trips against the
plasma stream travelling between nacelles, but he
understood this was a matter of life and death, not just for the rest of the
crew but for himself as well. He knew if
the ship were destroyed in this chaos as it was being called, his non-corporeal
form would not survive any longer than the solid beings he worked amidst.
Spot
melded with the stream in the center of the port nacelles warp coils, and
re-tuned them again, bringing the engine efficiency up another notch, then
moved back at the speed of light into the starboard nacelle one last time.
* * * *
“9.99... 9.995...
9.999...”
Koester
jumped, startled, as the viewscreen suddenly flashed,
turning black, red, blue, and every color wavelength known to the Federation
all at once. Fry turned to look at his
Commanding Officer, a look of amazement and disbelief covering his face.
“Warp
10, sir,” he said just above a whisper.
“Stand
by to decelerate,” ordered Q. “Stand by on impulse.”
Before
anyone could react, however, the entire ship shook violently. Crew members were tossed like rag dolls to
the deck. Koester, Kane, and Sutherland
held on to the arms of their chairs with all their strength to prevent being
thrown forward. Consoles all around the
Bridge turned black and the lights faded, replaced a moment later by the soft,
dim light of the emergency backup systems.
“I’ve
lost helm control,” Fry shouted, holding tightly to his now darkened console.
“We’ve
lost the Mains,” Kyle Sutherland reported as he picked himself up and returned
to his own station.
“Engineering
to Bridge,” sounded the harried voice of Lt Johnson. “We just experienced an auto-shutdown of the
warp core. Attempting
to perform a warm start now.”
“Where
are we?” Kane asked, standing and looking around for
damage to the Bridge systems while Counselor Kethry
Sutherland examined the members of the crew who were tossed around for signs of
serious injury.
“We’re
still here,” commented Commodore Koester.
“Which is a good sign… Wherever here is?”
Slowly,
normal lighting returned to the Bridge, and consoles started, reinitializing
for a moment before returning to their familiar control panels. Koester looked toward the main viewer with
hope.
“Viewer
on,” he ordered.
“Viewer
on, aye, sir,” responded Commander Winters as he adjusted the shoulder strap of
his satchel and then looked up expectantly at the dark screen.
Slowly,
the image changed. Black. The deep black of space. Stars; yellow, red, blue,
shown brightly around them. And
not too far a distance away, perhaps only 100,000 kilometers away, a Federation
Starbase glistened in the starlight. The most beautiful sight many on the Bridge
had ever seen.
“Well
done Mister Johnson, Mister Spot. Well
done everyone,” Koester said through a beaming smile.
* * * *
Captain’s
Log, Stardate 52588.1:
USS Dauntless has moored at Starbase 177 for repairs following our little
ordeal. I’ve authorized the crew shore
leave for 96 hours, to commence as soon as I finish conducting a ceremony in
the 10-Forward Lounge.
I’ve
informed Starfleet Command of our failed attempt to open a dialogue with the
newly encountered alien race, and my recommendation that any further attempts
be conducted via subspace radio.
Both
Lt Johnson and Commander Bloom have studied the sensor logs as well as the
diagnostic data on our warp nacelles, and they both assure me that any attempt
to repeat our transwarp experiment would blow the
warp engines apart, and probably the rest of the ship as well, which means we
cannot use this method for further exploration beyond our galaxy. But that’s alright. I’ve been to the end of the universe and
back. It holds no interest for me. I find our own local galaxy to be much more
interesting.
Koester, out.
Toasts
were raised in 10-Forward as Commodore Koester read from the padd he held and Bloom, Q, Johnson, and Spot, all in dress uniform except for Spot for
obvious reasons, stood at attention near the large forward facing windows.
“The
commander USS Dauntless commends you
for services set forth in the following citation; For commendable service and
outstanding devotion to duty during the events of stardate
52587.9, I hereby award Commander Jeffrey Bloom, Commander Lotus Q, MD, Lt Nathaniel Johnson, and Ensign
‘Spot’ the Starfleet Legion of Merit for their direct contributions, above and
beyond the call of duty, to the return of the starship USS Dauntless NCC-75310 to Federation space. Signed,
The
lounge erupted into applause as the crowd moved closer to offer congratulations
to the awardees. Koester, the spotlight
off of himself for one of the few times in his years of command, smiled and
collapsed into the nearest chair, sighed a contented sigh of relief, and for
the first time in days, actually relaxed.
The
End
Return to 2375.
Return to Stories Archive.