Captain’s Log: Episode One, Act Two, Scene One

The first thing Dee Lipton does once the runabout is secure is to get the contact team transferred to the isolation ward. Even though there had been no containment breaches or notable exposures it was a good practice to isolate and observe the contact team for any potential long-term effects. The team members grumble with good nature about their impending confinement, but it was a known consequence of working on the front line. Besides, the isolation and containment wards onboard the ASCLEPIUS were downright luxurious. There the team would have time to relax and also finish their post-mission observations for the records. 

Next she heads to what she calls ‘Med One’. If the bridge of the ASCLEPIUS was the command center of the ship, Med One was the command center for the various departments, labs, and wards of the medical facilities of the ASCLEPIUS. T’Pern has the senior staff ready, and hands her a lab coat as she walks into the central staff meeting room of Med One. She favors the aged Vulcan with a warm smile of gratitude, which he stoically ignores in typical Vulcan manner. 

“Alright gang,” she says as she takes her seat at the long oval table, “First let me say: Good Job. We took on an unknown threat and handled it with skill and talent. This is why I chose each of you for this team and you’ve made me proud. Gold stars all around.”

There’s a murmur of chuckles among the senior staff that have worked with her before. She notes a few of the newer team members' looks of confusion at the ‘Gold Star’ reference for a moment, but they all would get used to her idiosyncrasies. Eventually.

“But our work isn’t done yet,” She continues. “The ASCLEPIUS is on the hunt for a mystery ship that may or may not either be the source of the infection or potentially a carrier of it.” 

She pauses a moment to let that sink in, then continues: “That means by the time we find that ship, I want us to be prepared. We need a method of detection, a defense against infection or at the least, a countermeasure for this bug. It’s brainstorming time, gang. Let’s hear some ideas.”

—

Merriith S’Roke is in her element and she is relishing it. As Chief of Security onboard a medical ship, she doesn’t get to engage with her predatory instincts very often. Caitians had evolved from stalking hunters who tracked and pounced upon their prey with consummate skill. Right now her prey is a starship, not a plain striding herbivore, but many of the skills translate with the right training. 

S’Roke faces a real challenge: Without knowing the class of ship they are in pursuit of, she has only a vague performance envelope with which to predict plots. The outpost’s records gave a general direction of the ships’ departing vector, and T’Lara and her assistant had calculated how the stars visible in the sensor logs had moved in the time between the recording and when ASCLEPIUS started her chase. This gave them an initial vector to start with, for which S’Roke is tremendously grateful. Without that, they would not have known even which way to start looking. The time difference still presents a monumental hurdle. With Lt. Abel driving the ship, S’Roke is studying local maps of the sector and cross-referencing with updating data being supplied by Lt. Elison’s scans. T’Lara is attempting to glean more information about the ship from the limited information from the outpost’s records, but hasn’t been able to tell them much other than a general size and an estimate of its energy output.

The Pelia sector is a moderately populated volume of space. There are a dozen populated and colonized systems in the sector. While the coreward edge of the sector is recognized as Federation space, the majority of it is unclaimed by any one polity. The next sector rimward is one of the frontline sectors in the Federation- Dominion/Cardasian war. The Federation patrolled Pelia, and Starfleet Command had evidence that the Cardassians were patrolling the neighboring one. 

She sees Commander Gav Neroon’s reflection in her panel, watching her. She sighs, stretches languidly and rolls her shoulders, then turns to face him.

“Sorrry Commander,” she says, “This is going to be a really tough hunt.”

Neroon grunts and reaches towards the panel next to hers to punch in some commands. An image of the Pelia sector appears, and a blinking icon labeled “APPELWAITHE” catches her attention.

”Coordinate with the APPELWAITHE,” Neroon instructs her. “More hunters to beat the brush, right?”

She ponders this for a moment, then voices her idea:

”If it’s a numbers game, what about deploying the Runabouts?” She asks. The two Danube-class Runabouts are more than modular shuttlecraft: They’re small starships in their own right. They could perform their own search grids, and the ASCLEPIOUS carried sensor modules for each that would extend their sensor range considerably. 

Neroon gifts S’Roke a rare grin, holds up a finger that means ‘wait one,’ and walks around the bridge to confer with the Captain a moment. Soon after, Captain Je’Ghettorii returns with Neroon to S’Roke’s station.

”Lieutenant,” the Captain begins and she gives him all her attention, “I approve deploying the ARATUS and ACESO with sensor modules to extend the search grid. Their orders will be to detect the mystery ship, or signs of infection among the neutral polities in their search grids, but not to engage in any way. Find that ship and report.”

”Eye sir,” she replies as the Captain turns to return to his chair.

He turns again before taking more than a step, says to both Neroon and S’Roke:

”Good idea, both of you. Carry on.”

An hour or so later, Merrith S’Roke once again has the Captain and Exec standing by her station, and T’Lara has joined them. Her display shows a trinary star system; The center star is a large and hot F class, labeled ‘Alpha Masalgu.’ Circling it at over a light year distance is a warm G class labeled ‘Beta Masalgu,’ and orbiting the G class is a cool red M class labeled ‘Proxima Masalgu.’ 

Merrith clears her throat and recites her prepared notes:

”Alpha Masalgu Six has the oldest culture and elements from that culture colonized Beta and Proxima’s planets in the last two centuries. This cluster of stars is the only one in the flight path of our mystery ship. It’s a convenient stop to cool off your warp drive and re-orient towards your next destination. Beyond it is the Görnhead nebula, and beyond that is the border to the next sector. Cardassian space.

Sirs, I recommend we split out forces: ASCLEPIUS can check out Alpha, while ACESO and ARATUS check out Beta and Proxima, respectively. We’ll be close enough that any two elements can respond quickly if the third finds anything. The next closest star systems will take days for the runabouts to reach.” 

Captain Je’Ghettorii turns to his science officer; “T,Lara, What do we know about the Masalgu Trinary and it’s cultures?”

T’Lara doesn’t even look at the datapad in her hands, her eyes are on the display but it’s like she’s looking through it.

”Alpha Masalgu’s major government is a constitutional monarchy. The ruling family has made it clear that it is their policy to stay neutral in the Federation-Cardassian/Dominion conflict. While they retain close cultural ties to their daughter colonies, they do not have political control over them. 

Beta Masalgu has a functioning democratic government, and the last Federation diplomatic enjoy’s report described their attitudes towards the current conflict as … Blasé. Their current social media is highly divided on the topic and without a supermajority consensus, the Beta government cannot proceed on any policy.”

”My kind of people,” Neroon chuckles, then waves the science officer to continue.

“Proxima Masalgu,” T’Lara continues unaffected by the Tellarite’s color commentary, “is a very recent offshoot of the Beta culture and currently has a fledgling democratic government. There is a movement to request entry into the Federation, but they have yet met some of the requirements to be accepted, chiefly that they have yet to overcome several crucial economic and cultural dependencies from Beta to qualify.”

Finishing her diatribe, T’Lara looks to her Captain and nods.

”Thank you, T’Lara,” Je’Ghettorii tells her, then looks to Merrith S’Roke. “So. ASCLEPIUS to Alpha, ACESO to Beta, and ARATUS to Proxima. That is your recommendation?”

Merrith nods, “Yes sir, it is.”

Je'Ghettorii nods, satisfied with her confidence. He turns to the communications officer. “Lieutenant Hyrys, please contact APPELWAITHE and update her on our plans, and with my compliments, kindly ask Captain Tonner to check out the Görnhead nebula. Her superior sensors should make scanning for anybody hiding there that much easier.” 

The Bajoran officer nods, turns to her station to craft the message.

Je’Ghettorii then speaks to the two Ops stations at the front of the bridge: “Lieutenant Abel, best time to the Masalgu trinary?”

The young Lieutenant, who has been listening in to the conversation behind him and already done the calculations, turns to his Captain and says: “Captain, best time to ideal separation point for the Runabouts is twelve hours. ASCLEPIUS can reach Alpha an hour after that, and ARATUS and ACESO can reach their destinations two and three hours after that.”

Je’Ghettori smiles as Neroon’s good-natured grumbling voice carries across the bridge: “What are you, Abel? A mind reader?”

Abel, unsure how to respond, meekly replies: “No… sir?”

Je’Ghettorii strokes his beard, “Set your course Lieutenant, and get us underway.”

He then looks at S’Roke with an appreciative gaze, “Lieutenant, go enjoy a shift off. I want you ready for what may happen in twelve hours.”

—

The discussion and debate around the table of Med One is lively and highly technical, and Dee Lipton is enjoying watching it swirl before her. This is her team and she’s damn proud of them. A message from the bridge pulls her attention away and she reads the Exec’s update on the mission plans. 

“Alright gang,” she says loudly while rapping her knuckles on the tabletop to get everyone’s attention. It takes a moment for the various sub-conversations to die down and she stands to deliver her dictates.

”Update from the Captain: In twelve hours we’ll be approaching the Masalgu Trinary. There we’re sending Runabouts to two daughter systems, while the ASCLEPIUS proceeds towards the primary. Wrap up your discussions, get some rest. Nobody on this ship is going to make a mistake because of exhaustion. We’ll reconvene in eight hours for final preparations. Dismissed.”

—-

Costes Vandalore is enjoying a sonic shower, and misses the first chime on his coms because sonic showers are loud. The pulsating waves are beating out the tension in his shoulders and back nicely, so he is taking his time. Post-flight checks on the ARATUS had taken hours, which he had overseen personally along with the chief flight engineer and her technicians. The ARATUS had taken a hit while escaping the exploding outpost, and Costes wanted to make sure nothing had actually gotten past the Runabout’s shields. Then he had filed his ships’ logs with the Flight Ops, as well as dictated his own personal reports. Then he had time for a shower. He was hoping to get a bite to eat next and was considering what he was going to order from the ship’s galley when the second chime on his coms got his attention.

It was another mission from Flight Ops. He scans the orders, mentally noting the change in module and crew he’d have along this time. Executing a system search would be far more engaging than babysitting a bunch of doctors but paradoxically less stressful. He was no medic, but watching the vids of the crew of the outpost turn into clouds of mist had chilled him to the core. It was something he had no idea how to deal with, and standing by had worn his nerves raw. Having something to do, now, was just what he needed. He mentally does the calculus for the prep time for the new mission, and realizes he has no time for a proper sit-down meal in the ship’s galley. As he dresses with a fresh uniform he reflects to himself at least he would be able to use the replicators on the ARATUS, and he had updated the recipes on the Runabout with some of his favorites.

End Scene one.

Captains’ Log: Episode One, Scene Four

 Gav Neroon turns to Captain Ji’Ghettorii and says in a low voice:

“That’s all well and good, Captain, but we don’t carry any torpedoes.” 

Which is true. The ASCLEPIUS is a medical starship and only armed with low powered phaser arrays for defensive purposes. Phasers could be used to reduce the outpost to slag, but that would take considerable time and stress on the ship’s phaser banks.

Ji’Ghettorii give his exec a knowing smile, then turns towards his chief engineer.

“Chief Dylan, do you have any ideas?” He asks.

Tanner Dylan turns from his engineering master display to face his captain. “I’ve been scanning the station to see what we have to work with, sir.” He says. 

Gav stands and walks to stand behind the engineer. “Can’t we just overload her power plants?” he says as he crosses his arms across his barrel chest.

Tanner shakes his head: “The outpost has a couple of small fusion reactors, but mostly gets her power from her solar collectors. A deliberate overload and containment failure would do a lot of damage but wouldn’t obliterate the station; the reactors are deliberately far from the habitats sections for just that reason. And I am assuming that the utter destruction of the infected sections is the goal here?”

Gav grunts and nods: “That would be the correct assumption, Chief.” 

“Then I think … ,” Tanner drifts off as his station beeps with the end of an analysis cycle, “I can arrange a suitably pyrotechnic decommissioning of the outpost.”

Dylan taps some commands into his console and his display updates with structural diagrams of the station. By now the Captain has also joined the Exec at the engineers station. Dylan turns to them both and begins his presentation:

“In the station’s cargo bays are containers of molecular aluminium and molybdenum among other ores and materials from local asteroid harvesting. I propose using the transporter arrays and replicators to disassemble these supplies, then use the same transporter arrays to evenly distribute these materials in an aluminium-molybdenum-oxide cloud throughout the station's habitat sections. Then I will trigger an overload of the station's fusion reactors to cause multiple discharges within the habitat sections via her EPS grid. This will result in an overpressure detonation in all the sections of the habitat simultaneously.” 

Dylan’s engineering display illustrates the process as he describes it, ending with an impressive explosion and disintegration of the entire outpost. 

Gav's look at the chief engineer is somewhat dubious. “Was your engineering thesis on thermobaric weapons?”

“Oh, no sir.” Dylan responds with a grin, ” ‘Controlled atomic arrangement via replicator-transporter hybrid use’ was my Engineering thesis at StarFleet Academy. I wanted to see if it was possible to lay large structural ship elements in a more efficient and consistent way using replicators and transporters. But finding out that I could make big explosions was a happy accident.”

Gav turns to look at the Captain. Ji’Ghettorii returns a wry grin, then asks the engineer: “What do you need to make this happen?”

Dylan has his answer ready: “I’d like to beam over to the ARATUS. From there I can use the probe drones to access and modify the stations’ power grid, as well as sync her transporters with ours. The ASCLEPIUS can use her transporters to atomize the materials we need; they’re more efficient. We can use our replicator arrays to manage the integration into the metastable intermolecular composite and then link the transporter arrays to distribute the composite to every compartment.”

Gav frowns, grumbles: “Sounds like a lot of moving parts. What are the failure points?” 

Dylan takes in a breath, thinking, then raises a hand to tick off points on his fingers: “One: The station’s transporter grid is older tech, ours and theirs may not sync well. I recommend bringing the ASCLEPIUS closer to the outpost to lessen signal decay. Two: If the mixture isn’t correct, there won’t be so much a detonation as a slow and vicious burn. Honestly I don’t think that’s a problem because it’ll still be a plasma reaction at several thousand degrees which should still serve our purposes? But I still want a big boom. Three: The ARATUS will need to stay on station right up to the final countdown, so she’ll be in harm's way if anything goes wrong in the setup. Four: The resulting detonation will be … energetic. Not as big as a nuclear or matter-antimatter containment failure, but almost as powerful. Both the ASCLEPIUS and the ARATUS will need to bug out. Fast.”

Gav rolls his eyes, then looks to his Captain. Dylan wonders if either is telepathic, as the silent discussion between captain and exec happens without informing him anything. 

The Exec then turns back to Dylan and says: “Very well Chief, make it happen.”

The Captain turns to the communications officer: “Lieutenant Hyrys, please coordinate with Chief Dylan on synchronizing our transporter systems with those of the outpost. Their effectiveness is paramount to this operation.” 

The Bajoran communications officer nods in acknowledgement, and stands with a PADD to join the engineer at his station.

—-

Deirdre Lipton ponders the update to the mission plan she has just received from the executive officer, but only for a few moments before she activates the comms to the containment module and starts issuing orders to the contact team. There’s a palpable sense of relief in the movements of the contact team along with the urgency of a pending massive explosion to propel their activities; They began securing laboratory tests in progress and samples for transit and packing away tools. Dee makes certain the drones are recalled and a set prepared for the chief engineer’s purposes.

She is reviewing the contact teams’ efforts when she hears the distinctive sounds of an incoming transporter beam. Tanner Dylan steps off the pad of the runabouts transporter system. He looks around and spies Dr Lipton at her erstwhile workstation.

”Hiya Doc,” he says cheerfully and waves. Dee smiles back, enjoying his youthful energy and cheer. 

She waves a hand at the rest of the runabouts habitation deck.

”Welcome to my secret laboratory,” She says, “Have a seat and take a number.”

Tanner Dylan looks around in confusion for a moment, then gets the joke, gives Dee a grin, and sets up at a station across from her in the habitat. After a few minutes the recovered drones lift off from their charging pads in the containment module. They then float thru the airlock and into the station. Off to set up the huge boom the young chief engineer promised. 

The voice from the containment team lead draws Dee’s attention from the chief engineer’s machinations.

“We’re all set here, Doctor,” he informs her. She sees that the contact team have locked down everything in the containment module and are strapping themselves into seats in preparation. She opens her own comms line to the team.

“Great work, gang. Relax and wait for the countdown.”

She hears the Captain ask Dylan for a status report.

The chief engineer clears his throat before responding: “Captain. The aluminum and molybdenum supplies have been beamed aboard the ASCLEPIUS, and the transporter buffers have been linked with her heavy duty replicators. I’ve completed the setup of the local transporter array to sync with the ASCLEPIUS’ transporter arrays. Lieutenant Hyrys, can you confirm the communication links are working?”

Dee hears the Bajoran lieutenant reply: “Yes chief, systems are synced and appear to be working at peak efficiency.”

Dylan nods in acknowledgement. “That’s great. I’ve started modifying the EPS conduits and removing the safety interlocks on the stations’ fusion reactors.”

“How much more time do you need, Chief?” The captain asks over their open channel.

“Just a couple more minutes captain,” The young man replies.

Dee turns to the flight chief: “Costes, we good to fly?”

Costes turns from his command chair and gives her a thumbs up. He is already strapped in, and she can see the command consoles of the runabout lit up and in flight mode. “Ready and waiting, Doc!” He says. 

“Beginning matrix formation and distribution,” Dylan says. His voice holds a sliver of tension, but also excitement. Dee can see a diagram on his displays of the outpost station and a blue-green glow begins to form in the outpost chambers. The glow peaks in the innermost habitat sections, then spreads to the connecting chambers, then their connecting chambers and so on. 

A few minutes later the chief engineer says over the open coms: “Lieutenant Hyrys? Please boost the Asclepius’ transporter sync rate. The local grid is dropping in efficiency.”

Another minute passes and he says: “Good, we’re back up to expected formation rate. We need to get the entire outpost filled with the metastable matrix before parts of it start precipitating out.” 

He turns to another display. One Dee can’t decipher from her vantage point. He continues with his monologue as he works:

“EPS conduits are … primed. Only ninety percent, actually, the remainder aren’t functional to begin with. Nothing I can do about them. I am beginning a runaway build up in the outposts fusion reactors … now. It should peak by the time the metastable matrix is complete. Then we overload the EPS conduits and get the hell out of here.”

Dee looks at Costes and sees he is watching the chief engineer intently, waiting for a signal to cut them loose from the outpost and get them the hell out of harm's way. Dee decides this is a good time to relocate to the copilot’s chair and straps herself in.

They hear a rising tone from the chief engineers’ station.

“That’s just the reactor’s safety buffers counting down,” Dylan says absently but Dee appreciates that he has the presence of mind to inform him what the tone is for. Not knowing exactly what it meant would make her rising tension worse. 

Costes turns to face his controls. They all feel the thrum of the runabouts reactors power up and the distinct hum of impulse engines spooling up.

She realizes Dylan is still standing at his station. The only place left to sit is at the rec table she had vacated moments before. 

On the other side of the runabout’s hab section from where the engineer had setup his displays.

”Godspeed, ARATUS.” The captain tells them over the open coms. 

“Maybe you should take a seat, Chief?” She asks Dylan as the runabout’s engines uptick in their thrumming. Even with inertial compensators, they might be in for a rough ride. The young man shakes his head, his eyes never leaving the critical displays of matrix distribution and power-grid levels. 

“Can’t. Gotta time this just right.” He says.

”Matrix transfer complete,” They hear Lieutenant Hyrys report over the open coms.

“Helm, execute maneuver!” They hear the captain order the ASCLEPIUS’ helm.

“Triggering EPS conduit failure cascade!” Dylan shouts. “Get us out of here!”

And things start to happen very quickly after that:

Costes doesn’t acknowledge the order, just triggers his preprogrammed maneuvers. The ARATUS shudders as magnetic clamps disengage from the outpost hull and Dee watches a display as the inner airlock of the containment module slams shut at the same time. An instant later the impulse engines roar to full power and the ARATUS leaps away from the outpost. Dee watches as Dylan is knocked off his feet even as he tries to rush to the seats on the other side of the runabout’s hab deck. He slides towards the rear of the section from the G forces that leak through the runabout’s inertial dampeners, but catches the edge of the bench seating’s legs and manages to hold on as the ARATUS’ accelleration pushes them all towards the rear of the craft.

Seeing Dylan is safe for now, Dee switches her console view screen to an aft view. At first nothing much seems to happen to the outpost as it recedes away from them, but she notes a brighter than before glow from the few windows and observation ports in the habitat sections. Was that from the metastable matrix? She wonders. Then there is a flash in those windows that reminds Dee of ancient chemical lights used in photography. In the next instant every window, every seam in the outpost’s hull bursts outward in jets of energetic combusting thermobaric fire. Before her brain can think: “But there’s no such thing as an open flame in space,” the outpost seems to expand in every direction simultaneously. To her perspective it appears like the station is suddenly and rapidly hurtling towards them, even as her rational mind knows it’s actually coming apart in every direction at once. Then she sees the rather hefty chunk of solar collection array spinning in their direction.

“Costes!” She has a moment to shout before the errant array of solar panels slam across the ARATUS’ shields. The runabout tumbles as a cloud of debris cascades around and past them. A warning siren sounds in the cockpit, but Dee checks and the only damage is to the deflector shields.

Costes laughs as he easily rights the runabout’s course and shouts: “¡Y allos vamos!”

The runabout’s acceleration quickly overcomes the nearly instantaneous speed of the outpost’ detonation and nothing more threatens the small craft as it speeds away from the expanding cloud of debris and destruction that had once been outpost 7291.

Dee unbuckles herself and goes to check on Dylan, who has pushed himself up into a seated position now that the excess G forces have dissipated. She quickly checks him over and sees no immediate injury though he is breathing fast and hard. She notes the stunned look in his eyes. She then helps him sit on the bench at the rec table and starts a more thorough scan of his vitals using her medical tricorder.

“Damn that was fun,” Tanner Dylan starts to giggle like a giddy teenager. She can’t help but smile as well.

”Yes that was … exciting for a moment,” she says with relief as her tricorder confirms the chief engineer to be in perfect, if slightly stressed health.

”Can …” He stops to swallow the flutter in his voice, “Can you play that back again? I want to see exactly how it happened.”

Dee looks forward and see’s the ARATUS is already lining up to land on one of the ASCLEPIUS’ docking pads on the dorsal side of her secondary hull nestled in between her warp drive nacelles. Once secured the pad will descend into the ASCLEPIUS’ hull into the dedicated runabout hanger. 

“Sure thing,” she tells him, “but let me make some popcorn first.”

The ARATUS is barely lowered into the runabout hanger as the ASCLEPIUS changes course. Her warp nacelles glow brightly with sub space altering power and she dashes away in pursuit of the unknown ship.

-end act one-