©1997, Mark E. Becker and Claire Basney
Captains Log, Stardate: 42946.2.
The USS Atlantis has been dispatched to UFP 389574, a star system on the edge of Federation space. This system has never actually been visited by a starship, only charted at long range.
However, Starfleet has recently begun receiving electromagnetic transmissions from this system, similar to the old-fashioned Television and Radio waves used on Earth in the 20th and 21st centuries. Such transmissions can only be produced by a technologically advanced society, and since this system is several hundred light-years away; meaning that the transmissions were sent several hundred years ago; the people there have may have advanced far enough to have space travel by now.
Starfleet has sent us to observe the system, analyze their level of development and, if appropriate, to initiate contact.
I've got a really weird feeling about this mission, though. So we're approaching the system cautiously, keeping alert to any threats that might come up.
* * * * *
"All right people, what do you have for me?" The Captain strode onto the bridge from his Ready Room, which he preferred to call his Office, just to be different. Captain Keith Becker was, at 1.85 meters, tall for a human, but not unusually so. He had close-cropped, brown hair, a light complexion, and a slender build. He wasn't usually considered handsome, in the traditional sense, but had a boyish charm.
"Not much so far, Captain," the first officer replied. He was a Caitian -- a feline-like humanoid, known for their historical knowledge. Atarri was short by human standards -- 1.6 meters -- with black-and-white fur. He was powerfully muscled, though you would not be able to tell by looking at him.
"As expected," Atarri continued, as the Captain settled into his chair, "we've been essentially fast-forwarding through the transmissions as we approach the planet. The Xenosociology team Starfleet assigned to us has been analyzing them, and so far the programming is following a fairly normal development."
"I must admit," the felinoid added with a wry expression, "I've taken a look at some of the transmissions myself, and rather liked them. The content is much more... sophisticated than equivalent programming from other worlds histories."
The Captain grimaced. "Earth's especially, I'll bet," he replied. "I've watched some of the old 20th Century programming, and wasn't altogether impressed."
"I wasn't going to comment on that myself," Atarri said, with his eyes narrowed in the feline equivalent of a smile. Then he sobered.
"So far we haven't detected any sort of subspace communications, so its most likely they haven't developed that far yet," he said.
"How far away are we?" the Captain asked.
Atarri glanced at the Lieutenant at the Ops. station, who promptly announced, "Ten light-years; we should be arriving at the edge of the system in about fifteen minutes."
"All right then," said the Captain, "when we reach the edge of the system, slow to impulse, and I want sensors on maximum range. As soon as we can get a visual, I want it on the main viewscreen."
* * * * *
Ensign Van Wyk turned halfway around in her chair at the Conn. station.
"Approaching the system, Captain." Turning back around, she added, "Slowing to impulse, system on screen."
As the Captain looked up from the small console he was studying, an almost empty starfield appeared on the bridge's main viewscreen. One bright star was in the middle -- obviously the system's sun. If any planets were visible, at this range they were indistinguishable from stars by sight alone.
"Can you put up a tactical display of the system?" he asked. The Lieutenant at Ops. touched a few controls, and a new graphic appeared. This showed a computer-constructed representation of the system, with orbits and planetary specifications plotted and displayed for easy interpretation.
"Looks like planet number two is our destination," commented Atarri. "It's the only Class M planet in the system."
The tactical display showed that the innermost planet was rocky, barren, and nearly molten. An asteroid belt was in the third position, and there was one more solid planet -- mostly frozen -- and two gas giants outside of that. A relatively small solar system, all in all.
"Any sign of artificial satellites?" the Captain asked.
The Ops. officer studied one of his displays.
"Negative, Captain," he eventually replied. "And I've also noticed something strange. We aren't detecting any transmissions anymore."
The Captain looked puzzled.
"What?"
"When did the signals stop?" Atarri asked.
The Lieutenant checked a display.
"We picked up the last transmission only moments ago, just before we came out of warp," he told the commander. "According to the computer's calculations, it would have been sent about three weeks ago."
Atarri and the Captain just looked at each other for a moment.
"Why did they stop?" the Captain asked.
"There's no way to know, sir," the Lieutenant replied.
"We'd better have somebody take a closer look at those last transmissions," Atarri growled.
The Captain nodded.
"All stop," he ordered. "I want a high-level sensor sweep of the system. Concentrate on the second planet. I want to know if there's anything out of the ordinary here. Commander, he turned to the First Officer, put the ship on Yellow alert. And get the Xenosociology team on those last transmissions. I've got a bad feeling about this."
* * * * *
The senior staff met in the conference room half an hour later to discuss the latest findings. The Captain, of course, sat at the head of the table, with Commander Atarri at his right. On the other side of the First Officer was Lt. Commander Geena Shaw, the ship's Security Chief, who was built almost the same as Atarri, but whose light blonde hair nicely contrasted her chocolate complexion. A genetic mix you don't see very often, Captain Becker thought to himself. To his left sat Commander Dasoris, a Phylosian -- sentient, mobile plant-like creatures, only now recovering from a catastrophe brought to their planet by a Human -- who was the ship's Science Officer, and had just come on duty. Next to him sat the Lieutenant from Ops., whose name Keith still couldn't remember.
I definitely need to pay more attention to transfer orders, he thought, as the meeting got underway.
Lt. Commander Shaw began.
"We've conducted a thorough search of the system, and haven't found any signs of any sort of spacecraft. Not even an orbital shuttle. So there's no obvious danger to us."
"How about the planet?" asked the Captain.
"It is Class M," replied the unknown Lieutenant. "From the looks of it, it did once support a fairly advanced civilization. We've detected evidence of cities and advanced industry, but haven't been able to detect any sign of inhabitants. There is still a fair amount of wildlife, so it will take a while to be able to filter out any important data."
The lieutenant then glanced at Dasoris, keenly aware that the Science Officer's own planet had suffered what was starting to look like a similar catastrophe.
At that point the Science Officer took over the report. His voice was so smooth that you wouldn't think that it was produced by the amulet hanging around the upper stalk that resembled a neck.
"So far we have been able to rule all of the theories we've come up with," he began, and the Captain thought he heard a note of pity in the synthesized voice. "Radiation levels are far too low to be a result of nuclear -- or even phaser -- bombardment, not to mention the fact that there is still abundant wildlife. Biological warfare usually isn't so selective, and we know from their transmissions that they did not yet have spacefaring technology so they didn't leave. A climate shift is possible, but they did seem to have enough technology to handle that kind of catastrophe."
"Was there anything in the transmissions," the Captain asked, "that gives any clue to what happened?"
"Not that we have been able to determine," Commander Dasoris replied. "There were always news reports of various technological developments, but nothing out of the ordinary was reported before the end of the signals. We're currently analyzing it for anything seemingly routine that might have been dangerous after all, but haven't come up with anything yet."
Captain Keith sighed.
"So they're basically just 'gone'," he stated, rhetorically.
Dasoris simply nodded.
Keith looked at the Chief of Security again.
"And there is no apparent danger to our ship?"
"Right," Shaw replied.
"Then I guess we go in, and investigate the planet more closely," he decided. "But I don't like this. There's something weird going on, and I can feel it. So let's be careful."
As they rose to return to their duty stations, everyone was nodding in agreement, because they all knew that, in cases like this, their Captain's intuition was usually right.
* * * * *
"Captain, we have the planet in visual range now," Ensign Van Wyk announced.
"On screen," he ordered.
A beautiful blue planet obediently appeared on the viewscreen. From the back of the bridge, Dasoris began announcing more information about it.
"The planet is . . . ninety percent ocean. There are few structures on land. Those that are are in coastal areas, with easy access to the beaches. The sensors are having a bit of difficulty penetrating the oceans, but it looks like the majority of the civilization is underwater."
The Captain raised his eyebrows.
"We're dealing with an aquatic civilization then," he commented, rhetorically. "Any life signs yet? Humanoid, that is?"
"Taking into consideration that the sentient species may not actually be humanoid, ..." the Phylosian began.
"Point taken," Captain Becker added.
"... it is difficult to determine," Dasoris continued. "The planet is saturated by some sort of energy field, unlike anything we've ever encountered. It's giving the sensors a hard time picking out life readings."
"Of course it would be something we've never encountered before," the Captain commented wryly. "If it was something we were familiar with, it wouldn't be any challenge."
"How about environmental readings?" he continued, switching to a more serious tone. "Any more information on what might have happened to our absent hosts?"
"The environment seems quite normal," Dasoris replied. "In fact, there is not even any evidence of environmental pollution. By the looks of it, you would not think they could have even enough technology for the transmissions that brought us here."
"Either that," the Captain countered, "or they're just a lot more careful than..."
Captain Becker was going to finish with "the rest of us," but Dasoris suddenly cut him off.
"I'm getting lifeform readings. Not many, but in one of the coastal areas. At least one, very faint."
The Captain leapt into action.
"Shaw, have a Security Team meet us at Transporter Room 2. Dasoris, let's go," he ordered.
"Captain..." Atarri began.
"Atarri, you're not going to give me a hard time about endangering myself on an Away Team, are you?"
"It is my job," he countered.
"Your objection is noted," the Captain replied. "But this time, I need to be down there. I can't explain why. I just know I need to go myself. Trust me."
"Then at least keep in touch with us every so often, so we know everything's all right," Atarri said.
The Captain grinned at the conditions his First Officer had given him in exchange for the victory.
"No problem," he said. "Let's go."
* * * * *
Captain's Log, Stardate 42946.8.
Upon beaming down to the planet, we discovered some survivors of a . . . unique . . . planetary catastrophe. One of them, a young female named Yroli E, has come on board and has requested to come along with us when the Atlantis leaves.
(As a side note, I can't help noticing how uniquely appropriate it is that this ship was assigned to come here, seeing how this planet's inhabitants are an aquatic race, who have recently suffered nearly total decimation; just like the old Terran myths of the Lost City of Atlantis. It really is an amazing coincidence.)
Anyway, we brought her to the ship, and she has told us all about what happened. Well, as much as she knows, at least. In short, her people were working on building a starship. Yes, almost the entire population was participating. Their technology is actually quite simple -- they don't even use electricity, but considering that they are an aquatic people, that isn't all that surprising. They have extremely well developed mystical talents, however, that make up for the lack of technological advancement.
(It appears that the strange energy field we picked up before is some sort of psychoreactive energy, which they can channel at will, and use to do the sorts of things we do technologically. It almost seems like magic , and that's even what Yroli E's people call it.)
According to our guest, since they don't have propulsion technology, they couldn't get the ship to move using technological means. They had to use one of their mystic arts to enable the ship to teleport . Unfortunately this mixture of magic and technology had an unexpected result: the ship apparently exploded during it's first test. All those who weren't in a protected area (we met some of Yroli E's clan members who were inside at the time, but in a shielded chamber, so survived) simply disappeared with the ship. And since that was most of the population, only a few are left.
Understandably, most of those remaining are rather bitter, and wary of each other -- not to mention strangers. So we have left a Subspace Communications Array on the planet with Yroli E's friends, just in case they need any help, so they can contact Starfleet.
I really would like to be able to do more, but there really isn't anything more to do. Yroli E is the only one who wants to leave, and since their climate is largely unaffected, they should be able to survive.
I'm hoping to be able to return to this world someday and see how they've rebuilt their civilization. But for the moment, I can only offer my hopes and prayers.
I did go back down to the planet briefly, so that Yroli E could give me a brief tour. Shortly after we beamed back up, I returned the favor, and showed her around the Atlantis a bit. We began in Engineering, though introducing her to the Turbolifts was an experience on its own. I introduced her to my Chief Engineer, Lt. Commander Sobek. She had been absolutely fascinated by what she had heard so far about Vulcans, and was hardly able to contain herself when she finally was able to meet one. In many ways, the two species are opposites: Vulcans are dedicated to logic, and come from a very hot, dry world; while Yroli E's people are passionate and -- if Yroli E is any example -- excitable, aquatic folk. But both share an amazing intellectual bent, which I can't help but admire.
Sobek, on the other hand, was equally intrigued by Yroli E's talk about magic , and he made sure that she would explain more about it to him some day.
* * * * *
Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 42946.9. Highest level encryption.
Magic! This planet has magic! I never thought I would encounter actual magic in this world!
When Yroli E and I beamed back down to her planet, after she told us the story of what happened, I was intrigued by all the references she had made to magic. Apparently, all her people use it. It's almost as natural to them as breathing is to us. And so I couldn't help giving it a try. I figured, though I don't remember a lot from my previous lifetimes, I have been, after all, a Wizard in some of my former incarnations, so I should be able to get some sort of spell to work.
After she took me on a brief tour of her city -- mostly in ruins at the moment -- and we were back on the beach, I picked up a pebble, and tried to put a glow spell on it. After concentrating as hard as I could, I couldn't tell any difference, until I cupped my hand over it, to block the sunlight. Sure enough, there was a faint glow! It worked !
I was so excited; and Yroli E was amazed! Since I had told her several times that magic was virtually unknown in the rest of the galaxy, she had assumed none of us had any ability with it. So when I suddenly was able to do something with it, even a rudimentary glow spell, it caught her by surprise!
She demanded an explanation of how I was able to do that, if nobody else could, and I ended up telling her almost the entire story of my previous incarnations!
I'm actually still not quite sure why I told her so much about it, especially since she's now the only person on board who knows, aside from Dasoris. I mean, I haven't even told Sarah yet, and we've been going out for, what, six months now?
I must admit, though, it was nice to be able to tell someone who would be able to understand; someone with a better frame of reference -- but there was something more. I just felt able to talk to her, more than I have with anybody else, even Sarah.
- - - - -
Written / drawn by Yroli E in her new quarters aboard the Excelsior class starship Atlantis. Her quarters contain a good deal of sand similar to the stuff of her planet, and she journals in a curious and complex language of hand- and fingerprints. It is as secure, however, as the Captain's private log; wet sand is easily brushed dry and smooth, if anyone could read the language anyway.
I feel that I must write in my old language, even though I abandoned it and my whole world so quickly. I think it was fear that drove me away, though now I regret part of my hasty decision. Because I have no family or home, or even starship, to miss, I miss them doubly. I miss them and my old world of sea and sky and magic understood beyond tricks as much as I am thrilled and overwhelmed by this new world of machines, transporters, warp drives, Vulcans, talking plant-creatures, and--well, of course, humans.
I find the Vulcan engineer and, from Keith the Captain's description, his kind most intellectually stimulating (in the same vein as this massive ship). He is obviously much more intelligent and advanced than the majority of his fellow crew-members, and my whole mind comes alive in a way it has not since I conversed with my own people at the thought of the conversations and discoveries there could be with this being. Nevertheless, his obvious coldness (and the heat of his desert planet--almost as if his emotion has been seared out of him) gives me, if you forgive the incongruity, the shivers. Or, rather, the screaming horrors. As hard as the Captain and his crew have tried to make my quarters (what an odd word, like dividing me or my habitat into fourths) like home--well, enough of that. It was my decision to leave, and Keith the Captain has other responsibilities than to look after me.
I wish he didn't.
Later--
It feels as if I am still talking to you, Ysone A, even though you are, I know, dead. You were working directly under Yrela and would have been altogether vulnerable to the blast. Oh, I miss you--I miss you! (Break: Yroli E smears her writing away)
Later again--
It's later now, Ysone A. I never managed to tell Keith the Captain what sort of creatures we were--if it even matters anymore. The word Elso E A no longer has any meaning, like the Borg collective he keeps telling me about would be without any collective. We have no more collective. But if it's necessary for his records, of course I will mention it.
What odd sharp sounds these humans use to form their words. But the Vulcans are even worse. Elso E A. Elso E A. Keith. Becker. Sobek. Shaw. At least the felinoid seems to understand some fluidity of sound. Atarri. Shaw is the worst of the lot for frigidity, even if her name has no K, or G, or B.
There is a name I sense in Keith the Captain's mind (like I told him I sense the meanings of words I don't know) that I can't help but dislike, despite it's fluidity. Sarah. I don't think he knows that it has the force to ring through into my mind; he understands so little of how you and I used to talk, Ysone A. But just like I felt his veneration for the Vulcan Spock, so this other name, Sarah, moves in his mind whenever we meet. It almost has a female tendency. Oh, I hope not.
Something else. He (Keith the Captain, of course) promises to find me a tutor (whether mechanical or human I don't know) to teach me the language of this Federation I have rashly sprung into. Maybe the others were right to stay behind. Not that it makes any difference--from what I have learned about the rate we are traveling, Ysone A, we could be in the hundreds of their light years away by now.
Well, I'm sure you've guessed it by now, Ysone A. You always did--know my thoughts practically before I finished thinking them, I mean. I do want a tutor to learn Keith the Captain's language, desperately. I want it to be human--warm and no machine. I want it to be him. Keith Becker stirs me in a way no Vulcan, were he as brilliant as Yrela. That half-human half-Vulcan legend Spock might approximate, and that would only be because of his human understanding. I cannot be sure yet how humans feel, or express feelings deeper than cheer or polite welcome. But I yearn to know, because then I could be able to truly tell Keith the Captain how I feel in a way he could understand. He shared with me his deepest secret, I sense, when he told me that he alone will live forever, Ysone A. Except that it is more complex than that--to die forever and be reborn forever. Our race, long-lived as it suddenly seems to be, seems as suddenly short and insignificant. But also so blessedly simple. Keith the Captain has been what he calls a wizard (someone like us, who understands magic), and even stranger, an insect. I saw a small thing, an insect I think, crawling in my quarters this morning. How helpless--but then I'm forgetting; he was a mechanical insect. Besides, I would want him never different than he is now. Unless he could never be mine now. Unless somehow he could be if I met him later, after he died and rebirthed. But that must be impossible, even in a world of warp drives--he said he changes universes with each death and rebirth. And I love him now.
But he told this to me, only, except to his dearest friend the plant-creature (very odd--to be a friend to what looks exactly like one of our animate plants, Ysone A). Can I hope?
Who IS SARAH?!!
* * * * *
Captain's Log, Stardate 42948.4.
The Atlantis has been in orbit of Yroli E's world for two days now. We've been surveying the planet, seeing if there are any other survivors who want to leave, and making sure that the ones who are staying are able to survive well enough on their own. We've also been keeping ourselves busy recording all of the information we can about the planet: geological, geographical, all the historical and cultural information we can get from the people we've been able to talk to. Even considering how few of them are left, we haven't actually been able to meet with very many of them, since they're all still pretty agitated from the cataclysm.
Yroli E is adjusting well to her new surroundings. We've had some clothing custom designed for her, (her people don't use clothing much, since it would just get in the way underwater) and she's settled in to the quarters we've adapted for her. I've arranged for English lessons for her, so that we don't have to depend on the Universal Translator to communicate, and she's caught on very quickly. She still has yet to master some of the stranger aspects of English, but considering that it's not her native language, I'd say she's doing extremely well.
She has also expressed an intense curiosity regarding the ship and how it operates. She readily absorbs any and all information that anybody gives her, and is still hungry for more. I'm starting to think that I'm going to have to assign someone to guide her around the ship, so that she doesn't accidentally mess something up while poking around.
Dasoris interviewed her about her people and their culture. We've finally found out what they called themselves -- Elso E A -- and so I've entered that into my official reports as the name of the system. I'm about to send that report off to Starfleet; there isn't much else for us to do here, so we'll be leaving the system soon, I expect.
I sure hope our next mission is a little more successful.
* * * * *
Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 42948.9.
I showed Yroli E my "Personal History" program on the Holodeck today. I was telling her some more about some of my previous lives, when I thought she might like to actually see what they looked like. Again, I've shared something with her that I haven't shown anybody else. This time, even more so; Dasoris hasn't even seen my holodeck program yet. So she's the only other person on board who actually knows about it.
I still can't figure out why I've been so moved to share these things with her. There's just something about her that makes me want to do anything for her. Which is how I should feel about Sarah, I know, considering that we are in love. At least, I that's what I thought.
Somehow Yroli E found out about Sarah. I hadn't gotten around to mentioning her yet -- even though I've had plenty of opportunity, for some reason I was scared to -- but Yroli E was able to hear my thoughts about her directly. She seems to have some sort of empathic sense. I'm going to have to remember to shield my thoughts better from now on.
Anyway, Yroli E asked about her tonight when we were in the holodeck. I had to explain -- 'had to'? Stop. Start over. I explained who she was and what we were to each other. It was really difficult for some reason, though, to tell her that I was involved with somebody else. It almost felt like I was betraying Yroli E somehow -- which is ridiculous, because I've only just met her, and it would actually be unfair to Sarah if I let myself feel something for someone else.
But, suddenly, my relationship with Sarah seems . . . well, empty. Almost like I'm just going through the motions, without really understanding what I'm doing. This actually could be: human emotions are still somewhat alien to me, even though I've lived through a couple of lifetimes already. But none of my lives so far have really had room for love. As an Autoduelist, I was more concerned with staying alive. As the Avatar of Virtue, I had a quest to complete. As a galactic hitchhiker, I was more concerned with just having fun. As a Blood Bowl player, I thought about winning, and as a wizard -- and later an Undead -- I was concentrating on my Reincarnating project. This is really the first time that I've had a good opportunity to have a relationship with anybody, and when I met Sarah, who seemed to be an interesting and desirable person, I went for it. And it was working so well, so far, but now it almost seems like I was pursuing our relationship in order to have a relationship , more than because I really felt something for her .
But I've gone this far with it, I can't just abandon it now. That wouldn't be fair to her. I need to see it through, and maybe, if it ends naturally, then I'll be able to pursue something with Yroli E. Assuming anything is possible -- her species may be far too different from humans for anything to be possible at all.
We'll see, when -- and if -- the time comes.
- - - - -
Dear Ysone A--
Feeling more and more familiar with the workings of the ship, I am also getting a firm grip on this new language--English, they call is. Odd. It can be so melodious, and yet so abrupt. At any rate, it is much better than Vulcan. I heard Sobek talking to his wife the other day--AAAH! How disconnect and unpleasing. I sense something as close to an excitement between the two of them as Vulcans can experience; I think she is with child.
I have found the Vulcans as fascinating a race of intellects as Keith the Captain conjectured I might. Sobek is beyond brilliant, both in engineering and in other scientific and technological arenas. (I am still adjusting myself to this reliance on technology without magic. Funny, I have almost forgotten the disaster from the planet surface which can come of mixing the two.)
Why, you think, do I say this? Ha HA! Because--I don't know if you remember--Keith the Captain did me the great honor of showing me all of his previous incarnations, he calls them, on the Holodeck. The fascinating thing was that, despite the technological complexity and barriers, I was able to make it seem that one of these apparitions (fully tactile, though) could move. A simple illusion, I know, but it opened up such a window of opportunity that I shall have to be very careful that I do not overreach myself and make a real mess. As I said, I do not fully understand all the ramifications of this advanced machinery, though I am learning more every day. Mostly thanks to Keith the Captain.
* * * * *
Captain's Log, Stardate 42949.5.
The USS Atlantis has left the Elso E A system, and is returning to Starbase 311 for debriefing and maintenance.
Several crew members have reported strange malfunctions in the Holodeck; nothing serious, just minor aberrations in their programs' behavior. Our technicians haven't been able to find any problems, but I have ordered new privacy protocols installed anyway, in the case that it was simply a prankster hacking into the files and changing the programs.
Our visitor seems to be dealing with her new situation well, though I have been able to detect a certain melancholy in her demeanor, which I'm attributing to a degree of homesickness.
- - - - -
Oh, Ysone A, HE is spending more and more time with me--even, I think, finding excuses to come and visit and talk. Much as I enjoy all the attentions and experiments (some of them on me and my magic!!!) Sobek and I share in afternoons, my feelings for Keith the Captain are constant. No, they are growing. Just the other day, we were having the most exhilarating walk around the arboretum, and I was on the verge of suggesting we make such a beautiful thing into a Holodeck program, when we met who I now know to be Keith the Captain's girlfriend. Girlfriend! She is a stick with little politeness and less genuine emotion. You can laugh at me, Ysone A, but this dryness all these creatures swim in must affect some of their temperaments. I promise you, she looked as hard and brittle as a fish bone which has rested too long on the sand. I thought I could have broken her with a twist of my fingers. And I want to, too.
But, perhaps I am unfair. After all, considering the English words 'girlfriend' or, even worse, 'significant other', perhaps she can be excused for being pathetic and brainless and dry. Or perhaps not.
Oh, Ysone A, I have just had the most glorious idea! But I think it requires some testing first, before I try it on the big specimen.
- - - - -
Next day--
Do you remember the crewman from the bridge whose name Keith the Captain could never remember? Well, I discovered that in his free hours, he likes to frequent the Holodeck, as do many of the crew people here. I happened to overhear yesterday afternoon as I was walking the promenade that he would have his next free hour today at what the crew members call 1400 hours, or 2 Post Meridian, meaning the bright hour when we would rest ourselves on the shores on our own world. Well, you'll never guess what I did. I entered the Holodeck at precisely fourteen minutes before 1400 hours and bent the light in one corner so that he would not observe me. When he entered, he began his program as usual. It is one that I have seen parts of before--one actually quite amusing story acknowledging the existence of magic in which a white rabbit is chased down a hole in the ground by a little girl in a blue dress. Apparently, it has something to do with an old legend of a planet which the first Enterprise crew (the one with Spock--oh, I would like to meet him) discovered when looking for a rest.
Anyway, I found that by following him silently and tapping him on the shoulder, I could rouse him to quite an extraordinary state of tension. He was convinced that the Holodeck was somehow malfunctioning (that is the wonderful shortsightedness of these technology-ridden people), and, in exploring the computer for possible defects, has revealed to me his code for the program operation. This will prove more than useful for the next time, and the big time.
The grass that the computer generated was delightful, though.
* * * * *
Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 43167.7.
Sarah's starting to get suspicious. She confronted me about how distracted I've been lately. I don't think she knows for sure what I feel for Yroli E, but she knows something's wrong, and she'd have to be really slow to miss the fact that it started shortly after Yroli E came on board, and that I've been spending so much time with her since then.
I've been trying to keep Yroli E at an arm's distance, but I just can't help myself. Even when I'm on duty, I'll find myself trying to come up with an excuse to spend more time with her. And spending time with Sarah is starting to feel more and more . . . contrived. But I'm still resolute about sticking this out. After all, I've never given up on a mission yet, and I have an obligation here. Even if it is getting more uncomfortable by the day.
- - - - -
This has been the most profitable afternoon. Instead of leaving after the young man left (I am sorry that I marred his relaxation, but it was necessary for experimentation for the real thing), I stayed in my closet of bent light and examined the computer. It is impossible for me to probe it technologically--my skills, even on the ship we were constructing at home, are far too meager--but I find it at least slightly receptive to magical probing, something like the minds of the creatures who designed it.
Keith the Captain has made efforts to bar his mind from me now, and I really am miserable. I cannot see why he should not trust me to know even the most elementary thoughts that are in his mind. I meant no harm in mentioning to him what I had noticed, and it did no harm to him or anyone. I could not have hidden what I saw; it would not have been just. Still, I have gleaned the tracings of his thoughts, both through his abstracted conversation when we do meet, and through thoughts so strong that he cannot hide them from me. He is increasingly distracted--distressed, I think--and it would not take the genius of the legend Spock to decipher that he is troubled over Sarah.
And over me. I would not have it so!
But there is nothing I can do to ease him. My presence is just a reminder of the dilemma he sees, or imagines. I love him. And I can't soothe him.
But anyway, back to the profits of my adventures on the Holodeck. The computer is technologically protected enough that I cannot find a list of the codes for the crew members' various programs. However, as I was standing there fuming, the doors slid open again (I will never get used to these automatic thingamawhatsies) and She walked in. I stood over her shoulder when she accessed her program. She must have been checking the inventory, for she went through every program for her in the machine. I have never been so fortunate. Of course I remember all the codes, Ysone A. But I did not tamper with her program. This time.
- - - - -
Two days later--
I must tell you how much fun you are missing on the Holodeck. The young man's white rabbit spoke only our language today. The little girl couldn't understand him and, even better, neither could the young man. I was getting so bored skulking around this technological marvel that what began as a sole plan of revenge is turning into entertainment.
Also, the navigator came down here to imagine himself in an old flying machine--an aeroplane, he called it. It turned psychedelic colors while he was flying, and more aeroplanes with odd crosses drawn on their tails nearly shot him down.
But the best one was after the midday lunch--She, oh the stealer of my Captain's affections, tried to have a good time this afternoon. Sorry, Sarah! She began the most insipid farce about some Earth installation she called the mall. It had clothes shops and shoe shops and even a children's bookstore. No turbolifts, hardly any technology, but full of electricity--unbelievably wasteful. Well, she was having fun making financial transactions in the Talbots clothing store with something called money--apparently not used anymore. Green drawings on paper and melted circles of copper, nickel, and other metals. Unfortunately, every time she wanted to actually make a purchase, every slip and droplet of money disappeared, no matter how many times she demanded more of the computer.
If I get better at keeping track of Sarah's mind, which is about as organized as a basketful of kittens, I'll be able to tell from my quarters when she is going to the Holodeck. And perhaps even make some changes from there. No one can blame me if I never went near the place.
- - - - -
Later--same day
Long distance tampering perfected. Another engineer's program--something to do with something called car repair (like Keith the Captain's autodueling?)--just couldn't get that car to start. Somehow the starter, as he called it, disappeared every time he put the hood down. I haven't had so much fun since the last swimming contest on my home planet.
- - - - -
Following day--
Sarah was furious with the computer today. I could feel her rage even in my quarters. Now comes the tricky part. If I tamper with every program she loads in, she will get suspicious and stop using the programs or even mention something to Keith. If I don't, her schedule may not be as disrupted as I could wish. Her cute little mall program locked itself today. I researched malls from the computer in my quarters--actually produced something called 'french fries' (!) in my replicator--and so arranged it that the mall was closed when she got there. Nothing she could do would make the shops open, and, best of all, a security guard (human, of course) nearly arrested her for trying to, as they say on earth, break in! And I never left my quarters.
By the way, french fries are rather tasty--never really eaten anything before. Shall have to try something else. I think it was the salt that made them so attractive, and at the same time ensured that they didn't upset my system. I only could eat two, I was so full! Glasses of water on this ship are so bland. Humans have no idea how rejuvenating a throatful of brine can be.
Maybe I shall try something called 'spaghetti'. I heard that poor engineer talking about it the other day when his car wouldn't start. Gathered that it was a foodstuff, not part of the car. Ysone A, I have stopped (or nearly) playing tricks on the other crew members. Finding suitable tricks for Sarah has begun to occupy a lot of time. But I did play a tiny trick on Keith the other day--don't even know if he noticed. wouldn't surprise me if he didn't.
* * * * *
Captain's Log, Stardate 43395.6.
The holodeck malfunctions continue, even though the system was thoroughly checked out by the Starbase technicians and several months have passed. For the most part they are benign, but a few reports of unpleasant occurrences have made their way to me. I have a theory about what's wrong, and am going to test this theory tonight. If I'm right, it should be stopped by tomorrow.
* * * * *
Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 43396.4.
I didn't think this situation could get any worse, but it just did.
There have been a lot of malfunctions on the holodecks recently, beginning shortly after we visited Yroli E's world.
Most of it has been benign, even playful, but if all of it were like that there wouldn't have been any problem. One person, however, has been reporting serious malfunctions that have resulted in uncomfortable -- and even dangerous -- situations. Only one person, though: Sarah.
As soon as I found out that only she was having that kind of problem, it wasn't too hard to put two and two together and get . . . well, five, in this case.
I remember now how Yroli E told me she could affect the holodeck's operations with her magic. Combining that with how she reacted when I first told her about Sarah, I'm getting suspicious. At the time, I didn't understand why she had reacted so strongly, but this made me rethink it, and never in any of my lives have I wished more strongly that I was wrong.
So I asked Yroli E if she knew anything about the holodeck malfunctions. Even with my suspicions, I didn't know what kind of can of worms I was opening.
Yroli E has been in love with me virtually since the beginning, when we found her, dying, on her planet. That was why she took my news about Sarah so hard. And despite being from such an advanced and intellectual race, it seems that jealousy is still a universal principle.
I did the hardest thing I can remember ever doing today. I had to say 'no' to Yroli E; I forbade her from using her magic on the holodeck. And I believe that she will stop. She may be young and excitable, but she's honest -- to what many would consider a fault. I mean, she didn't even try to cover up her feelings, even though she knew that it would create problems. Even though she knew it might have saved her -- and me -- a lot of embarrassment, she took responsibility for herself. And I love her even more for it. I couldn't tell her that today, though. Even though I hate myself for having kept something from her, it would just complicate the situation even further.
I don't know how long I'm going to be able to handle this. I can't keep juggling Yroli E and Sarah like this. Either I'm going to have to explain to Yroli E that, despite feeling the same way about her as she does for me, I have a commitment to Sarah, or I'm going to have to break the commitment I've made to Sarah for the sake of the real love I feel for Yroli E. Either way, I hurt somebody.
Kobayashi Maru.
- - - - -
Well, that's it. I did go too far with the woman. Now Keith is hardly talking to me except to bar me from the Holodeck completely. He nearly confined me to quarters, for all the good that would have done. So it's back to Dullville around here. I want so badly to say it is all Sarah's fault !
But it would not be true. Apparently, from what I can dredge between Keith's measured words, after the mall-closing incident Sarah did complain. To him. And made a fuss. No one said anything about me, but he's not stupid, thank goodness. I couldn't stand him if he was. I am being ripped in three directions now. Just from my relieving my feelings on Her, he is more miserable and distracted than he was before. And therefore I am more miserable and tense than before. He has forbidden me my only entertainment except for the meetings with Sobek, and even they are going to end soon. Sobek and his wife are going to be returning to Vulcan for the appearance of their little one, and that'll be that.
He made me promise not to tamper with the machines again. Ever. And he trusts me, though why should he? Oh, maybe I'll just sit out here and shrivel. The dry air will do it in no time. How can I be so frustrated with someone I... oh never mind. He'll never care now. An earth-philosopher once said: "A man who does not keep his friendships in constant repair will soon find himself alone." Well, I am alone. Johnson didn't say anything about destroying friendships.
* * * * *
Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 43781.9.
Sarah is leaving the ship.
I've been trying to hold things together between us. It didn't work.
She can tell how I feel about Yroli E. She's been trying to ignore it but, as she put it, 'a relationship requires a total commitment, not a well-meaning attempt'.
She's put in for a transfer, and I've approved it. She says she's thinking about going back to Starfleet Academy, and going into the Officer's Training program. Maybe she'll be a starship captain herself someday.
I should be relieved that this situation is over, but instead I'm disappointed in myself for screwing it up so badly. I've come to realize that Sarah and I just weren't right for each other from the start. It sure seemed like it at the time, though. I should have been able to tell at the beginning that I didn't actually love her, but the emotion was still so alien to me, that I had no frame of reference from which to judge.
Yroli E is also miserable. She knows that she's the cause -- well, more like the trigger , but that's just semantics. Exactly how this will affect her, I don't know. The Atlantis is putting in to Starbase 199 for a refit, and Lt. Commander Sobek is taking a leave of absence back to Vulcan -- they're about to have their first daughter -- and since Yroli E has always been so intrigued by the Vulcans, I'm going to suggest to her that she go along. I really hate to send her away, and I don't like imposing on Sobek and T'ora, but I've already asked Sobek, and he agreed. (He's just as intellectually fascinated by Yroli E as she is with him.)
It may seem strange that I'm sending her away, now that it's over with Sarah, but I just can't face having her on board for the moment. I'm still hurting from our . . . from my failure , and I need some time to recover. Hopefully, after the pain diminishes, I can find her again.
I hope she'll understand.
- - - - -
Things have lightened somewhat. Or worsened irretrievably, depending how you look at it. Ysone A, I wish you were still alive. I wish I'd never left the planet. I wish He'd never found me under that rock.
Or I wish all of those things, but none of the ones that happened today. Sarah is leaving. Permanently. Apparently she and Keith have had some kind of split-up. (I wonder if it is what humans call a 'divorce'? Sounds too strong, but what other word is there?) But still he is as distracted and remote as he was before. He is avoiding me. We haven't had a walk since, well, practically since we met Sarah. I can't write about him.
Sobek wants me to go to Vulcan with him. He wants to show me to the scientists there, and work together with them. Whether on me or with me, I don't know. The line between being a coworker and a curiosity to him and his kind is a sketchy one to me. But I might go, just to be away from this everlasting tension.
And to work, of course. If I don't dry up and blow away on his desert world. The idea is appalling.
* * * * *
Captain's Log, Stardate 43833.7.
Lt. Commander Sobek and his wife T'ora have left the ship, taking some personal leave on Vulcan, while the USS Atlantis goes in for refit. Sobek has graciously offered our guest, Yroli E, a chance to see the planet Vulcan first hand, and she has elected to accompany him. We've set course for Starbase 199. On the way, we will rendezvous with the USS Eisenhower, where a number of personnel will transfer to and from the ship. We're all looking forward to a bit of a vacation. However, we've also just received a message from Starfleet Command with news that the Borg threat may be greater than we've been led to believe. The refit will now also include upgrades to our weapons and tactical systems. I just hope it won't become necessary.
- - - - -
I can't stay. Keith practically asked me to leave. It had been so long since I'd seen him that I couldn't stand it and I rode around in the turbolift on the off chance that he might call it. I wanted to see him so badly--to find out some concrete details about anything. They didn't even have to be about his feelings for Sarah or for me. Even about that stupid communication he received about taking the ship somewhere. It gave his mind such a jolt that it was like thunder in my head. Sobek says now that it is even more logical for him and his wife to leave, and that I come with them. Apparently the crew received some orders regarding this transmission I, of course, was declined. No matter if I wear clothes or a com-badge, I am strictly an outsider.
Finally he did get in the shaft, but it must have been a faux pas, according to some earth tradition with turbolifts, for he would not speak to me. Not more than a greeting, not even when it was empty. I have made some dreadful mistakes, I am sure, and perhaps he can never forgive me. I may never see him again once I am on Vulcan. How can he not speak to me? If he had no feelings for me, he wouldn't have been so friendly at first, and so remote now.
I guess this is one thing I just won't know.
But at least he knows--I love you, Keith Becker, and I think I will always, no matter what shape or incarnation you assume. I'm sorry that I've intruded and hurt you.
Yroli E
* * * * *
Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 43869.4.
Well, now that we've arrived at Starbase 199, where the ship will be undergoing refit for the next month, I'm looking forward to some time to think. I really haven't had a chance to assimilate everything that's happened lately, especially with regards to Sarah and Yroli E. I miss her so much already, but if that warning about the Borg we received becomes serious, it's a good thing she's gone. I would never be able to forgive myself if anything happened to her.
The next few days are going to be busy with paperwork, but then I should have some free time.
* * * * *
Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 43995.1.
The USS Atlantis has been returned to emergency duty, and we've been ordered to the the system Wolf 359, to join a battle group that is being assembled there in an attempt stop an invading alien race known as the Borg. From what I've heard, the Borg are incredibly powerful, but they can't be allowed to reach Earth.
There are 38 starships - both Federation and Klingon - currently scheduled to rendezvous there, which counts for a lot of firepower. But I have a bad feeling about this battle, so now I'm really glad that Yroli E is no longer aboard.
* * * * *
"Damage report!" the Captain screamed, as soon as the bridge stopped shaking.
"Shields are down," Ensign Van Wyk answered, at the top of her lungs. "Life support systems are down. Impulse drive is down . Warp drive is down."
"Is anything still working ?" he asked, frustrated.
"Sensors are a bit fuzzy, but working," she responded.
"Bridge to Engineering," he called out, "what can you do for me?"
One of the Lieutenants that was filling in for Lt. Commander Sobek responded.
"Impulse engines are gone . There's nothing we can do."
"Great, we're dead in the water," Keith commented, rhetorically.
"Not quite," came Dasoris' synthesized voice from the Science station, sounding unnaturally calm under the circumstances.
"Enlighten me, Daisy," the Captain requested, unconsciously using his private nickname for his friend.
"The warp drive is not completely destroyed. We may still be able to escape," the Phylosian replied.
"Not likely," the Captain countered. "The only reason they're ignoring us right now is because we're not moving. The moment we get prepared to warp out of here, they'll hit us with a tractor beam, and then we're through."
Then his eyebrows raised, like a double-sided imitation of Sobek's mannerisms, as an idea came to him.
"So if we can't go away from them, why not at them?"
Ensign Van Wyk turned to look at him, and Keith could also feel Dasoris' attention fixed on the back of his head.
"Captain," Dasoris began, "you're well aware of what would happen if we rammed the enemy ship at warp speed."
"It's the only chance we have at stopping them," the Captain argued. "If we do nothing, we're dead. If we try to run away, we're dead. If we ram them, we're still dead, but at least we might take them with us."
Captain Becker stood, turned, and faced his Science Officer. He knew that Dasoris knew why he was not afraid to die: he would just be reincarnated in a new life, in a new world.
"What about the rest of the crew?" Dasoris asked, silently giving his consent. The Captain had been worried for a moment that Dasoris might think that he was throwing away their lives unthinkingly. On the contrary, he knew that others might have more of a problem with it, but had faith in the courage and loyalty of his crew.
"We take a survey," he replied. "Anyone that wants to evacuate is welcome to do so. If we still have enough people to get the warp drive back on line, we do it." He then looked from Dasoris to Ensign Van Wyk.
"What do you say?"
She thought for a moment, but then said, "I'm with you."
He turned back to Dasoris, who was already opening the ship's intercom to make the announcement. This would normally be the First Officer's job, but Commander Atarri had also taken a leave of absence during the ship's refit, so Dasoris was temporarily filling his role.
"Attention crew. The ship is nearly disabled, and the fleet is taking severe losses. As a last-ditch measure, we are going to try to ram the enemy vessel at warp. This will surely lead to our destruction, so anyone who wants to eject should get to an escape pod as soon as possible. Nothing will be held against those who do so."
The Captain had already turned to his console, and was calling Engineering again. One of the Lieutenants answered.
"Did you heard Dasoris' announcement?" the Captain asked.
"Yes, sir," the Lieutenant answered.
"Your thoughts?"
"We can have the warp drive online in. . . five minutes, sir."
The Captain smiled, and took a deep breath, thankful.
"Then in exactly six minutes from now , we do it," he announced. "Mr. Dasoris, prepare a message buoy," he continued, leaving the channel open. "Download all of the ship's logs onto it, and allow anyone who can to add a short personal message as well. At T-minus ten seconds, launch the buoy."
Dasoris nodded. The Captain sat down, as his officers worked.
"Computer," he spoke softly, "scan my personal logs; authorization code Kickback . Copy all log entries referring to Yroli E, and encode them in a message, care of Lt. Commander Sobek." Then, as an afterthought, he said, "Add a postscript reading, 'I'm sorry.' Download this onto the message buoy."
The Captain spent the next few minutes recording a final log entry, explaining his decision, and commending his crew.
At the designated time, Dasoris announced, "Warp drive online."
The Captain opened the ship's intercom.
"I'm really proud to have served with all of you," he said simply, then gave the order to engage.
* * * * *
Of the 40 starships in the Wolf 359 battle group, 39 ships and eleven thousand lives were lost, including the USS Atlantis. The suicide maneuver attempted by Captain Keith Becker's crew did not succeed in destroying the Borg vessel, but damaged it so much that the Enterprise was able to catch up to it and stop it before it reached Earth. In fact, in the confusion of the battle, the Atlantis' maneuver was hardly even noticed. It was only after their message buoy was retrieved, about two weeks later, that the true nature of their sacrifice was learned.
Yroli E spent two years with Sobek and his wife on Vulcan, experimenting and exploring with the Vulcans until, even with her carefully-manufactured quarters, she began to fall ill and shaky from the eternal heat and drought. Tiring of the strain (both of heat and impenetrable, unemotional logic), Yroli E intended to visit Earth and perhaps catch up with some of the acquaintances she had made aboard the Atlantis, especially the captain, Keith Becker. She departed Vulcan with ceremony and honor, and relief. She had had a terrible mental strain about a week or two after the Atlantis departed Vulcan for the Wolf planets. That was all she knew then, but she was incapacitated for two days, and secluded herself. During her seclusion, in care of Sobek, the ship's log arrived with a two word message for her from the Captain: "I'm sorry." Later, she learned what the message had indicated--that the Atlantis had plunged into a Borg ship at warp speed and had therefore been destroyed with all hands aboard. The shock sobered her buoyant nature as years of her lifetime would have. She took the name Elena Maru when she reached Earth, in reference, some said, to the Starfleet test the Kobayashi Maru, but only she knew more than that. However, she loved earth and its oceans, and actually entered Starfleet Academy at Earth-age 26 (Elso E A @300). She graduated with some radical scientific honors and discoveries, by Earth standards (some, in fact, included characteristics inexplicable to earth science--almost magical, they were called), and was assigned to a starship as science officer. On a relatively early mission, the ship was pulled into a severe distortion or wormhole at which point communication with Starfleet Headquarters was lost. After regulation years of no response, the ship was designated lost and the crew members given the appropriate last rites. Elena Maru was given a small memorial in the Academy, and her notes, discoveries, and findings, as well as information about her own culture and a small dictionary of her language, were published posthumously.
Little did either of them know, however, that they were fated to meet again.