Escape From The Shoal

Posted on Aug 27, 2015 @ 8:29pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane & Lieutenant Eve Dalziel & Selyara Chen
Edited on on Aug 27, 2015 @ 11:42pm

Mission: The Lights of Hyperion

"ESCAPE FROM THE SHOAL"

(Continued from "Crowded")

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Captain's Log, supplemental - with the collapse of the riot and the neutralisation of Embry, the Phoenix is approaching the edge of the Hyperion Expanse. We are still menaced by the Amaterasu, and that is a situation that must be resolved quickly...

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Location: USS PHOENIX, slowly approaching the edge of the Hyperion Expanse
Stardate: [2.15]0828.0030
Scene: Main Bridge


Aerdan Jos was a worried Andorian. Although both halves of the Phoenix were back together and the Amaterasu were distracted, the main computer was still locked out. Try as he might, nothing Aerdan inputted was being accepted by the computer. No computer, no engines. No engines means the Phoenix was a sitting duck. Internal communications were choppy. Whatever Arthur Embry had done, he'd done it well.

But there was a silver lining. Someone in Engineering had managed to fire off the gravitron pulse. It was modified form of the pulse that had been mooted in the earlier briefing - no Amaterasu were dead, but they were being drawn to the location of the pulse's burst like sailors to a lorelei's song.

He turned on his heel as the bridge turbolift door hissed open, depositing Byte and Russ BaShen back onto the bridge. "Report," he said quickly.

"Mission accomplished," smiled Russ. "I think I deserve a medal."

[[Manual re-docking has been successfully completed,]] said Byte.

Aerdan nodded. "Take your stations and give me a situation update."

Byte and Russ took their seats. The android was first to respond. [[The majority of Amaterasu are still concentrated around the gravitron burst area. Sensors are unable to determine exactly how many, but there at least several hundred individuals.]]

"Let's pray that burst keeps them occupied," said Russ.

"Indeed, Mister BaShen," nodded Aerdan, returning to the centre seat. "I have not had any success in breaking through Mister Embry's computer firewall."

[[You are unlikely to, sir,]] said Byte.

Aerdan looked at the android sharply, antennae shooting straight upward.

Byte looked like a mollified child. [[I did not mean to impugne your computer skills, Commander. Arthur Embry has somehow gained knowledge of Captain Kane's command code and has used it to lock anyone else out of the computer's higher functions, then proceeded to change the code to one only he knew. Even if Captain Kane were to attempt to regain control of the computer, he would still need to provide the new code.]]

"Which only Embry knows," said Russ ruefully.

[[Exactly, Lieutenant.]]

Aerdan sighed as the enormity of the situation began to dawn on him. "And every minute that passes, the gravitron burst fades away. And when it is gone, the Amaterasu will be attracted to the next nearest energy source- the Phoenix." He sighed. "It seems, gentlemen, that we are at the mercy of outside forces, both literally and figuratively."

Byte and Russ looked at each other worriedly.

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Scene: Deck 12, saucer section - near primary sickbay


Eve emerged from the tube and planted her feet on Deck Twelve with a short staccato sigh. Anything deeper seemed to irritate her ribcage, and she passed her hand over the tender part, as if she could just wipe away the pain. She had checked her commbadge periodically all the way down through the decks from the bridge, but there had been no response from Cade. When she managed to find him, if he wasn’t already dead - she was going to kill him.

She got her bearings and moved towards sickbay, her stride shortened a little by fatigue and the ache in her ribs. She tried not to let her mind drift towards what was at stake, but the distraction helped her push forward somehow, gave her impetus to keep going as best she was able.

A reflection of something shiny glinted from the deck plate. Eve grunted as she bent over and picked up a commbadge. Was it Cade's? She tapped hers and said "Dalziel to Foster - do you read me, Doctor?" and the badge in her hand chirped in response. Mystery solved. She pocketed the device and made it the rest of the way to main sickbay.

The door swooshed open to reveal nothing. The room was backlit and quiet. There was some superficial damage to one of the walls and the residual smell of charred metal, but other than that the room looked sound. There were no sign of the Amaterasu at the moment, but there was also no sign of anyone else. The biobeds were empty. There were no injured or eviscerated medical staff members lying around.

"Where the hell is everyone?" she mumured as she shrugged mentally, scavenging through drawers and on shelves for medical supplies. She spent the next few minutes cramming two kits' worth of medical supplies in one shoulder bag so she could at least provide help to the remaining bridge crew and anyone else she came across. She didn't want it to be a wasted trip.

She adjusted the strap messenger-style across her shoulder, surveying the room once more. It was clear that there had been some sort of an evacuation. But where else could they have gone that included means to take care of their patients?

She snapped her fingers as the answer came to her. Secondary sickbay was located off the primary science centre, four decks above. Cade and the others must have been trying to make their way there. With the turbolifts out, they'd be making their way through the acces tunnels.

Eve straightened up too sharply and the pain burned near her waist. "Damn," she muttered. She should have been able to figure things out a lot sooner, but at least she knew now where Cade and the others had to be. She pressed a hypospray into the area she thought had the cracked or broken ribs and administered the smallest dose of terakine to relieve the pain. She needed to be alert, but also needed to be able to climb up four decks in a hurry.

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Scene: Battle Bridge

At first Michael's embrace was disconcerting to Selyara, and she had to fight the urge to push him away. Even as her rational mind told her that he wasn't going to hurt her, the rest of her mind screamed at her to run. She tensed, unable to decide what to do.

He'd said he wouldn’t send her back to Jaros, but could she really believe that? What about once he handed her over to whoever was waiting on Elandipole? There were no guarantees that once Michael had swanned off again back to the stars - and he would, sooner than later - the remainder of Starfleet wouldn't decide that she was an asset better kept in a gilded cage; a prisoner in all but name. Even if Michael swept her part in this little fiasco under the rug, there were all those people who'd seen her, and they might not be inclined to forget so quickly.

She could kill him now, just to be safe. She could escape in the ensuing chaos, hijack a shuttle while the ship was in confusion and make a run for it. She could flee and become someone else. She could throw herself into a new life and forget all about what had just happened.

"It's okay, Selyara, you're alright," Michael's voice said softly, his breath tickling her ear and his arms tightening around her as though he could hear her thoughts. She sighed softly, returned his embrace, and let her cheek drop to rest on his shoulder. She allowed herself to pretend for one long, comforting moment that the last ten years had never happened, that she was the same woman and he was the same man that had said goodbye to each other on the Century.

But she couldn't maintain the illusion in her mind for long. Reality asserted itself, and she reluctantly let her arms drop, sitting back on her knees. His hands lingered on her hips for a moment before he pulled them back to rest on his thighs. She flushed in embarrassment, and looked away.

"You broke your nose again," she said awkwardly, by way of explanation. "This is the third time, right?" The flow of blood had slowed to a trickle, but it would have to be tended. It was swollen, the bruised flesh beginning to turn blue around the edges as the blood oxidized, and the blow to his eye had swollen it shut. The yellow glow of his prosthetic eye gazed balefully at her from his good side, giving her a passing impression of inhumanity. By way of apology she pressed her fingers on his knee gently as she stood, avoiding the hand that lay there.

He nodded, gingerly touching his own face. She didn't want to know what he was thinking - she couldn't conceive of anything he might be thinking that wouldn't hurt in some way. She walked to the emergency locker, opening it to find a small field medkit, and returned. She sat down facing him, her knees touching his, and began to gently wipe the blood from his face. Something in his face made made her feel as though he was seeing the woman she'd been as he looked at her. Her eyes unwillingly glanced guiltily at the still twitching body of Arthur Embry, the glaring reminder to both of him that they were not, nor would ever again be the same people.

“He deserved it, Selyara. You shouldn't feel guilty. He would have killed me, and he would have killed you when you couldn’t help him anymore." Michael spoke gently, following her gaze, and completely misinterpreting her look as one of remorse. She considered telling him that he was wrong, that she felt nothing about having reduced Embry to a gibbering, drooling mess, and that she in fact felt as though he hadn't suffered enough.

Besides, what she'd done to Embry wasn't permanent, she was ninety-nine per cent sure of that. Ninety per cent sure. Well, at least eighty per cent sure. She'd been going to make it permanent, been going to burn Embry's mind to ashes, but then the expression on Michael's face, the little flicker in his eyes that told her for an instant he'd been scared of her had made her change her mind.

"Embry would beg to differ if he was anything more than a drooling imbecile," she said, shaking herself from her reverie when she realised that she'd been silent an abnormally long time, her hand frozen in place on his face the blood-soaked rag clutched uselessly in it. "I should have just nerve pinched him. It'll take him years to recover from what I did. He'll have to relearn everything again."

"I still don’t blame you," Kane grabbed her hand as she pulled it back, and she could feel his sincerity. She shifted uncomfortably. "After what he did to you - "

"He didn’t touch me." Selyara was disconcerted. She could feel Michael's certainty that Embry had somehow violated her. Michael shook his head slightly, and turned her hand over and traced his finger up the new, faint scar that ran from elbow to wrist and onto the old web of scars on her hands that were a permanent and familiar reminder of the Thal.

He stopped, his fingertips resting on her palm, and looked her in the eyes. She could feel his hesitation. "I heard what happened. I heard what he said to you. The comm channel was open." He chose his words carefully, and she could tell he knew she would not react well to this information.

He was right.

She snatched her hand back, feeling a wave of gut-wrenching humiliation sapping the colour from her cheeks. She tried to cover it up with a flurry of activity, but her hands betrayed her. After she'd dropped the regenerator for a third time she gave up and balled her hands into fists on her thighs and stared glumly at her lap, desperately trying keep her head above the waves of clashing emotion that pulled her mind every which way at once.

"How much? How much did you hear? Who else heard?" She tried to not let her feelings show in her voice, but it came out robotic, flat, and her emotion was betrayed by the lack of it in her voice.

"It doesn’t matter - " Michael put his hand on her shoulder. He was trying to be soothing again, and she became irrationally angry. He was speaking to her as if she were a child or a hysterical woman, which if she was being fair, she probably was, but at the same time she felt as though she had somehow come out on the other side of hysteria into a sort of numb, zen-like clarity. Although, judging from Michael's rusty, clumsy attempts at comforting her, that was perhaps self-delusion.

"It matters to me, Michael," she said, brushing his arm off of her, trying to hold onto the anger. At least that was something safe to latch on to, something safe to feel. She stared into his face, and saw the tell-tale twitch at the corner of his mouth and the tightening at his jaw. Even with more than a decade separating them, even without using her abilities, those two tics told her everything she needed to know. The wind left her her sails immediately, and she sagged again, feeling deflated and limp. The trembling in her hands increased until she was sure it was visible. "Everything. You heard everything, didn't you?” Unbidden and against her will, tears began to fall down her cheeks for the second time in as many hours. The ghost of Embry's mind and the rioters from the cargo bay, and even to a lesser extent the bits of James Barton reveled in her misery, smugly thinking that she deserved it. She buried her face in her hands and turned her back on him, shoving the tears back.

"No-one thinks less of you. I don't think less of you." His voice was soft, and he reached out again to touch her. "Barnes said that you were angry with me, and Embry implied it had something to do with Jaros. Is it because I never came to see you?"

"It's Barton, remember? And he has a big damn mouth and apparently less talent for discretion than I thought," she said bitterly. "None of this was yours to know, Michael. I would much prefer that you forgot you heard it."

"I was stuck when the Bajoran wormhole closed, Selyara. I didn't get the news until much later, and by then it - " The tone of his voice was so familiar; it was the no-nonsense voice he used when someone brought him a problem, one that he was determined to solve or fix for them. It was a voice he used for both an incipient planetary meltdown, or something as minor as an officer who was having trouble getting along with people in their department. It elicited a laugh from her, a genuine laugh that she hadn’t known she was capable of and the tears stopped.

"Stop, Michael, stop. I'm not just something you can fix. This isn't just something you can fix, and that's because there's nothing to fix.” She smiled brokenly at him and was surprised to find that she really meant it. She picked up the regenerator and began to run it over the bruising and swelling on his face. The breaks in the bone would have to wait for a real doctor, but at least he would be able to breathe and see properly again. "I didn't tell you I was angry at you because I wasn't, not really. It was just easier to convince myself I was than to admit I was hurt. It is irrational to feel as though you owed me anything, and I know it."

"But you still didn’t trust me enough to tell me about the Patriot, and what the Orion Syndicate did to you." His mis-matched eyes were fixed steadily on her face and she could feel the twinge of his hurt running down her arm even as he tried to keep it from her. She pulled the regenerator away and began to focus on his broken nose, one hand gently grasping his chin to keep it still.

"It wasn't that, Michael. I trust you, at least as much as I trust anyone anymore." She was tired, so tired, and somehow she felt as though she had nothing to lose by saying what she thought. "I guess part of me just wished things could be exactly like they were before, and telling you what happened would have ruined it somehow. You would have realized what I really am, and you would have stopped looking at me like you could still see the woman you - " She shook her head slightly, unwilling to say the word. "We’re both kind of idiots, you know? We're both so broken in our own way, and we look at each other, and we remember being happy, remember not being bitter and jaded. We've both spent half our time dancing around each other, convinced that if we could just put ourselves back together that we'd regain what we lost. But time's what took it away. Not me leaving you, not you leaving me in Jaros. Time. Life."

She put down the tool and moved his head from side to side, admiring her handiwork. She turned around to lean against the wall, leaned her head against his shoulder, and wound her arms around his bicep. He reached over and placed his hand on one of hers and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"It just never seems to be right time for us, does it?" he said softly. She murmured her assent and closed her eyes halfway, letting her body relax into his. She remained silent for a moment, listening to his heart beating.

"No, I suppose it doesn't." Impulsively, selfishly, she turned towards him and kissed him on the lips, pulling away before he could reciprocate. "But we’re both young. Who knows, maybe someday everything will fall into place with us. Just not this time. I'm going to have to leave at Elandipole."

"I know." He laced his fingers with hers.

"And you're going to have to learn to stop living like you're all alone in the galaxy. You're not keeping yourself aloof and apart from the crew because it’s the proper thing to do, you know. You're doing it because you're convinced someday, somehow, they'll be killed, and you're trying to protect yourself. But I know you, Michael, and if that happens you’ll regret not having known them more than having lost them. Now come on, we better get you to the bridge to explain what's happened here before everyone thinks I’m holding you hostage or screwing with your brain.”

Arm in arm, they left the dark battle bridge behind and stepped out into the brightly-lit corridor.

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Scene: Deck 8, saucer section - secondary sickbay


Cade Foster slumped, wiping sweat from his brow. The coffee he'd replicated was brackish, but passable. He looked across the room with satisfaction. His three 'guests' had been set up in their new temporary accommodations, and it had been no small feat to do it either. If it hadn't been for Suvek's help, he probably wouldn’t have been able to entertain the idea in the first place. Not that he was planning on telling the Vulcan that.

He peered out from under heavy eyelids. He'd thought of using a chemical stimulant, but his bravado was still too large to resort to that. He wasn't sure when Suvek left or where he went, could only feel the weariness begin to overtake him. No point in denying it, he was getting old.

He reached to his left breast, intending to use his commbadge to try and communicate with the bridge or engineering, but his badge was gone. His uniform had somehow been ripped at the left shoulder, and liver-spotted skin looked back him, small red welts visible where it had scraped on something. "Goddammit!" he yelled at nobody in particular. He drank another sip of the caffeinated swill, shaky hands barely able to set the cup on the counter without spilling it. He would need to get up and look for Suvek. But he just needed to lean back and rest for a moment.

"Cade!" Suvek snapped authoritatively.

The Vulcan's voice shattered the darkness, and Cade rushed back up to full consciousness, realising that he had been asleep. He sat up foggily and straightened in the chair guiltily. "How long was I out?"

"Not long," Suvek said as he pressed a hypospray to the older man's arm. "Animazine. Just a small dose."

"Did you have to wire me up?" Cade grumped, rubbing the injection site.

"Yes," Suvek said dryly. "Come, Lieutenant Dalziel is here. She climbed down from the bridge and needs to speak with you."

Cade stood up as Eve approached him. She was a tall, pale figure who normally carried herself gracefully, but Cade saw that she was favouring her right side. "Are you alright, Lieutenant?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said dismissively. "We need your help, Doctor. The higher functions of the main computer are locked out. Arthur Embry stole Captain Kane's command codes, accessed the computer, then changed the code."

"That's bad."

"Yes. We need you to relieve Captain Kane of command."

"Come again?" Cade frowned. "Is he incapable to discharging his duty as commanding officer?"

Eve sighed at having to explain it all again. "The computer still thinks that he's in charge of the ship, but not even he can access the computer because Embry changed the damn code. If you were to use your medical authority to relieve him off command and instate Commander Jos, we'd have control of the main computer again."

"Oh!" Cade exclaimed as realisation dawned. "Of course, my dear, I'd be happy to help." He looked around for the nearest access panel. "Shall we get started?"

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Scene: Cargo Bay Three


Virgo Silsby was surveying the clean-up work in the cargo bay when he heard a woman's voice bark from behind him.

"Potter, Suarez, Jager - you start sorting out these people. Three categories - troublemakers, those in need of triage, and helpers. You've got a bunch of mag-cuffs in those boxes on the edge of the grav sledges. Take trouble makers down, cuff 'em, stick the mag-cuffs to the deck plates, and they won't be going anywhere. The gunny's going to be beaming a bunch of our field med kit and hospital gear in, it isn't much, but get some helpers to set up cots and sort the injured into critical, wounded, and just needing reassurance and a band-aid. Potter, you remember your battle medic course? Good. You're in charge of starting to stabilise anyone you can, and treating what injuries you're capable of once you've got people sorted out. Win-Win, you're with me, we're gonna find the people Barton left in charge and get them organized."

She dished out the orders with a sharp, imperious efficiency. Silsby took a precious moment to glance at the originator of the voice.

Two women dressed in Marine armour were heading his way. The shorter of the two was a busty redhead that, despite being entirely covered by her armor, still gave the vague impression that her tits were about ready to spill out of it at any moment. The other was a tall, neat, fox-faced woman of Asiatic descent, with wide shoulders and ribcage that belied her slight build, who moved with a punchy, nervous energy. Both had pulse rifles casually slung over their shoulders, muzzles pointed at the ground to pacify any fears that they were going to get trigger-happy, but ready to swing up and into action if they were attacked.

His mood brightened slightly, just slightly. He caught a snatch of conversation with the fox-faced one saying his name and stepped forward to identify himself. “Here! Over here, ladies. I"m Virgo Silsby." He waved his hand in the air for emphasis, and the women turned and trotted up to him briskly. The redhead's lips twisted merrily at she drew close, and he was certain she winked saucily at him. The fox-faced one tilted her head at him and skewered him with an appraising look, though whether she was sizing up him or the situation, he had no idea.

"Well, well. Mister Barton said he'd left someone capable in charge, but he never said anything about you being a cutie. We're your relief team,” the red-head with the tits chirped, smiling and patting him on the elbow. "I'm Lance Corporal Stacy Flannigan, and this is Private Winnifred Nguyen. Nice to meet you, Mister Silsby."

"Call me Virgo. Mind if I call you ladies Stacy and Winnie?" Virgo was stopped by an intense glower from Winnifred.

"Winnifred," said the Asian woman with a steely tone. "Or Win-Win. Call me Winnie, I punch you." Her accent was odd - staccato, punchy, lacking any sort of ornamentation. Her meaning was clear enough, however. Silsby cocked his head, unable to tell whether her tone was hostile or not. The woman stared back at him evenly, her dark eyes watchful, alert. He knew the look on her face and relaxed. She'd lived on Limbo too. She might be a tough nut to crack, but he was certain his obvious charms would get her to warm up to him with a little time. Maybe, he thought, it might be fun to try to get them both in the same room together at the same time.

"First off, who is Barton?" Silsby said with a frown. This was the second time the women had used that name, but he couldn’t remember a Barton being around. Maybe that was the name of the giant mountain of a Marine that had been making the rounds. The two women exchanged a glance.

“The sad-eyed guy with a pretty-boy face stuck on top of a hulk? I thought he was in charge of you guys down here?" Stacy looked confused as well, pursing her lips and putting one elegantly manicured finger up to them in an exaggerated manner.

"Barnes. Barnes' alias. Name actually Jason Barton," Winnifred said an expression of boredom on her face. She not so gently hip-checked him out of the way and started to run through the logs.

Virgo quickly composed himself. "Ah. Got you. Barton put a whole bunch of people into the transporter buffer to keep them out of trouble, and left me to do the same to anyone else who caused trouble." The enormity of his responsibility suddenly got to Silsby, and he sagged. Stacy put her arm around him and patted one shoulder reassuringly, and he had the impression that if she hadn't been halfway concentrating on other things, she might have gone so far as to give him a kiss. But despite the picture perfect - and honestly, gratifying - flirtatious performance she was giving, something in her eyes was serious and it was clear wheels were turning rapidly.

"You poor thing. You must have felt like a sheep among the wolves, but never mind. Can you identify which ones were the ringleaders? Gunny Bellecotte is working on impromptu holding cells for them, so we’ll beam them right there and then you can help me and my boys sort through the people here. Once that's done, the Major's given me permission to escort you and all of Barton's men to our barracks for a shower, change of clothes, and food. Private Nguyen - play nice with Virgo, I'm going to check progress with the boys." Stacy turned on her heel and strode fearlessly through the milling refugees towards the rest of her men. They had several dozen refugees, mainly male, lined up on the floor wearing some kind of cuffs that went from wrist to forearm.

As Virgo watched, two of them wrestled a belligerent-looking Andorian into the cuffs, and snapped them shut. One of them, an overly eager, sandy-haired man said something to the Andorian, who responded by lashing out with one foot. The bulky blonde Marine who was helping the sandy-haired one responded by less than gently kicking the backs of the Andorian's knees. The man crashed to the floor, and there was an audible thunk as his cuffs magnetized to the deck plates. He felt a not so gentle prod in his side, and Winnifred stared at him meaningfully, and wordlessly pointed at the console. She waved her hands economically in a 'hurry up' gesture.

"Re-materialise. You tell me if trouble. Send away. Or give to the boss," Winnifred said sharply, her hands moving with almost Vulcan-like precision, not a motion wasted. She tapped the communicator on her wrist. "Gunny, Nguyen. Which cells ready? Commence transport?"

[[All the brig cells on deck forty except for four are ready to go. The Marine brig is prepped, and you have space in the gymnasium on deck thirty-nine,]] the booming voice of the gargantuan Marine Gunnery Sergeant boomed out from her speakers. [[At your convenience, go ahead and kick them out of the transporters.]]

"Got it," Winnifred bobbed her head in an almost birdlike nod. She deftly wove her hands up and down the controls and the transporter pad shimmered, a figure appearing half formed. She glanced over at Silsby. "Get to work."

Virgo sighed inwardly. The clean-up began.

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Scene: Main Bridge


Aerdan looked up in alarm as a series of chimes sounded from the Operations console. He stood up quickly. "Report."

[[It is as we feared, Commander,]] said the android. [[The gravitron pulse has faded and the Amaterasu are moving this way.]]

"On screen," ordered Aerdan as he moved up to the bridge's rear dais. He activated the tactical console.

On the main viewer, the picture winked. The Hyperion Expanse fell away on all sides in all its glory, a white muslin cloud that enshrouded this area of space.No stars could be seen, but coming on like a shoal of piranha were hundreds of Amaterasu, blinking in and out of realspace in bursts of colour. This was the light show of the Expanse that had puzzled Federation astronomers upon first seeing it one-hundred-and-sixty-seven years ago, a puzzle now solved by the crew of the Phoenix. They kept coming, a huge cloud-within-a-cloud, blues and green and reds and oranges, drawn irresistibly towards the ship.

"Red alert! Time to impact!" snapped Aerdan, as the klaxons began to sound.

[[Forty-three seconds,]] said Byte, calling it off like a death knell.

"Dammit!" yelled Russ in frustration, thumping his fist on his useless control panel. "All we need is warp one! Just a lousy jump to lightspeed and we'd be out of the Expanse in seconds!"

Aerdan watched the shoal of Amaterasu come on. He tried to centre himself, but it was no good. His warlike ancestors would not have settled for a death such as this. In pure frustration, his antennae curled and he ground his teeth furiously.

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Scene: Deck 8, saucer secrion - secondary sickbay


Cade and Eve were half-way across the floor when the red alert klaxons went off. Eve grasped Cade's sleeve and hauled him bodily towards the computer panel. "Move, Doctor, move!"

Cade hurriedly activated the computer panel. "Now, uh, let me see here..."

"You don't have time!" yelled Eve over the hubbub, glancing at the watching Suvek. "The Amaterasu are all over the ship! Hurry up!"

Cade swallowed hard. "I'm a doctor, not a computer technician!" He composed himself hurriedly. "Computer - recognise Foster, Doctor Cade, access code Foster-two-two-beta-charlie."

[[Recognised,]] replied the computer in its maddeningly calm female voice.

Cade frowned as thoughts began to percolate in his addled brain. "How should I put this?"

Eve grabbed him by the collar. "You don't have to worry about a bedside manner, Doctor! It's not a patient and you can't hurt its feelings!"

Cade nodded, his old swagger returning. "Now you listen to me, computer. As Chief Medical Officer of the starship Phoenix, I am hereby declaring Captain Kane unfit for command! You will immediately stop taking orders from him, and - "

[[Please specify the new commanding officer of the Phoenix,]] said the computer calmly, while the klaxons blared imminent doom all around them.

Cade thought for a second. "Well, I always thought that I would make a - "

"Doctor Foster!" Eve practically screamed at him.

Cade snapped back into action. "Commander Jos!" he exclaimed. "Commander Aerdan Jos is the new captain of the Phoenix." He paused, unsure if his order had gone into the machine. "Is that okay, computer?"

[[Confirmed,]] intoned the computer. [[USS Phoenix no longer under the command of Captain Michael Turlogh Kane. Command transfer to Commander Aerdan Jos complete.]]

Cade turned to Eve, raising an eyebrow. "Now, was it worth all the shouting?"

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Scene: Main Bridge


[[Fifteen seconds,]] said Byte.

Aerdan was helpless. He wished there was something he could do, anything he could do. The Amaterasu were blindly surging forward, filling up the viewscreen. Any moment now the shoal would crash headlong onto the ship, make straight for the energy signatures in a feeding and mating frenzy, and in the confusion cause so much damage that they'd probably rupture the warp core, assuming they didn't irradiate everyone on the ship. It would be a gruesome way to go.

With a noise like a distant generator being turned on, all the command consoles lit up fully. The firewall dropped across the bridge, and the air was aloud with chimes and alerts from each station.

"Sir!" exclaimed Russ. "I've got conn control back!"

[[Higher computer functions have been restored,]] confirmed Byte.

Aerdan took a split second to wonder how this had happened. To go from certain death to a chance for life was exhilarating, and he wasn't about to ask questions. "Get us out of here!" he yelled as the Amaterasu crashed into the navigational shields.

Russ's hands flew over his console like magic. "Warp speed!" he exclaimed, and on the main viewer, all the stars blurred into one.

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Scene: Outside


The USS Phoenix, ablaze with the pulsing of her nacelles, turned smoothly, angling herself for transwarp speed away from the onrushing cloud of lights and into deep space. She seemed to stiffen as her inertial dampers automatically activated in response to the sheer volume of power building up in her nacelles. Within her warp core, antimatter, in all its savage rage, was released from the Bussard collectors and expelled by volumes into the matter reactor - in a surge of power, the ship strained, eager to leap once again into the stars.

Suddenly she snapped forward, like a rubber band being fired from the hand, in a flash of blue light, and was gone; the splash of light in the void of space the only signal that she had jumped into warp.

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Captain's Log, supplemental - with the ship clear of the Hyperion Expanse and the Amaterasu left far behind, the Phoenix has resumed its voyage to Elandipole. Commander Crichton's engineering teams are working to restore our internal damage, and the entire crew is being treated by turns for light radiation sickness and assorted minor injuries. I expect everyone back at their stations within a day or two. The Limbo refugees are quiet now, content to await our arrival at our destination.

As the departmental reports begin to climb on my ready room desk, I am starting to see the lengths that everyone has gone through to keep this ship safely afloat. All of my senior officers deliberately put themselves in harm's way several times to ensure the safety of this ship and the souls aboard her. If we had any sort of operating authority, I would recommend each and every one of them for commendations. That one moment when their discipline broke during the argument in Engineering can be forgiven, at least for now. They are, undoubtedly, already the finest crew I have ever served with.

Give their assistance during this period, I've billeted James Barton and the Gorn known as Chaucer in quarters alongside the regular crew. Some of Barton's people remain in Shanty Town to oversee the refugees, but I no longer expect trouble from that quarter.

Arthur Embry remains in sickbay, his mind gone. Occasionally he shows flashes of recognising things, but most of the time he lies silently staring up at the lights of the sickbay ceiling. His bodily functions are regulated mechanically, and if it were not for the constant regular beeping of his heart rate from the biobed, he might as well be dead. He seems to exist now just as an empty shell, a testament to the terrifying power of Selyara's psionic ability.

Commander Jos remains in official command of the ship. Apparently the computer's command authorisation programs have to be purged before they will accept new imput again, and Commander Crichton is so over-stretched that it may be a day or two before he gets around to it.

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NRPG: That's the end of "The Lights of Hyperion", a story conceived of by Shawn and written by YOU! The Phoenix is clear of the Hyperion Expanse and it's now plain sailing to Elandipole. The next story is 99% planned out and will start with our arrival at Elandipole, where everyone will die in a conflagration of doom and.... I've said too much. Alix and Susan co-wrote parts of this post.


Jerome McKee
the Soul of Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Commanding Officer
USS PHOENIX


"He speaks an infinite deal of nothing!"
- Shakespeare's "The Merchant of Venice", Act 1, Scene 1.117

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