A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….
THORNS AND FIRE
The shadows of the Sith have fallen upon the galaxy. With the destruction of the Confederacy of Independent Systems and the dissolution of the Jedi Order, Palpatine’s plot to transform the Republic into the Galactic Empire is complete.
Even as the Emperor continues his campaign against the survivors of Order 66, Darth Sidious secretly fears the existence of a creation of his own making from the labs of NIMH—mice and rats that he has made attuned to the FORCE itself.
In the midst of the Emperor’s schemes to retrieve and corrupt the animals, a young field mo
Once the last of the Giger had mopped up in his sector, Commander Brody now had to get up to the task of reestablishing communications with the bridge. In the firefight against the enemy, they had slashed the wires of the communication console. That way, they could prevent the bridge from calling up reinforcements to their headquarters.
The shooting outside in the hallway had died down. Brody then took whatever wires that he could and twist-tied the circuits to keep them from disconnecting and cutting off his message to the bridge and the rest of his security personnel.
It was not an easy task, some the wires were too s
Imagine a parent with a young child; it is bedtime and the child requests the parent to read to him a bedtime story. At first, the parent is apprehensive, for the child has heard many bedtime stories read to him. Nevertheless, the parent agrees to find the son a story to entertain him for the night.
There are all kinds of stories in the boy's bedroom that have been read; stories of knights battling dragons and saving entire kingdoms; silly and vain princesses who go through series of unfortunate events in order to learn sense; adventurers seeking ancient treasures and must evade his enemies to protect; or a farm boy who must travel
The bridge was in chaos and panic!
Lambert thought that it was only a minor problem at first; but as more and more reports of the recent events happening, it was a grave sign that the ship was in turmoil. It all really began with Lt. Cmdr. Kane not reporting back to his post when he should have; the other bridge crewmembers didn't like it either, knowing that one of their own was absent.
No one was worried at first; they seemed to get along fine without him. They just wanted to leave the system and get back to the Independence and report their findings. But first, they needed the engineering crewmen to repair the damage th
"I don't believe this," Tanner huffed angrily to himself. "I've tried it four goddamn times all right and this piece of shit just won't work!"
"What's wrong now?" The red light emitting from the console seemed to intensify Tanner's anger upon hearing Parker's voice. Not by much, but subtly. He turned sulkily toward his superior.
"The transfer circuits aren't working," Tanner grumbled impatiently as he banged on the console with a meaty fist.
"Hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey!" A nearby engineer called out, running over to stop his infuriated coworker. Tanner had stopped the pounding, but didn't take much notice. His gaze was still fixed
Kane hadn't been easy after his experience in the medbay. Even he when sat back down in his seat in the science officer's station after being discharged, his hands trembled terribly as he tried to rearrange the console's various dials and buttons to analyze the mysterious transmission received from the alien ship. He tried very hard to keep out his experience of his chest rising like a chestburster ready to break out, but it did no good.
Somewhere in his still-pounding heart, he knew it was there; Ash had got it all wrong. But had he? In his experiences working with him, Ash had never proven himself wrong
"What's wrong Kane?"
Triumph or Trumped?
As the facehugger continued its choke-hold on Kane, Ash scoured the data files for any sign of a way to remove the creature, any solution to save the endangered member of the crew. Every second every minute spent in the quest for the answers further risked the life of Picard's top science officer. It wasn't a matter of if he could find an answer; he had to find the answer! And soon.
But nothing seemed to help. The computer of the Nostromo- the first recorded starship to be attacked by the Giger- had been successfully salvaged after its destruction because it was encased in a tough material called duratinium. However, whi
"Repeat that over sir," Lambert spoke into her earpiece. "What happened?"
It had been another twenty minutes since Picard had last contacted her. The angst that flowed over her this time wasn't caused by the destroyer's presence, but by an overdue report five minutes late. Now she was getting something she didn't like; one of Picard's men was in trouble.
"Kane's got… on his face. We need… the Ariel and… to the sickbay." The transmission that had been clear before was scrambled by stronger inference this time. Lambert couldn't make out what he was saying.
"What? What did Kane get on his face? I didn't copy."
Had the boarding party known what was coming, they wouldn't have boarded the ship in the first place. They could have volunteered out of it. But they didn't know. And the crew was in dire need for the parts. What had gone wrong in the warp core was that the matter and antimatter pods had been drained, possibly by the same energy field that jammed all communication frequencies with Starfleet.
As Parker toiled away at restoring as much power to the Ariel as best he could, the team that would be beamed over to the alien ship consisted of Captain Picard as leader, Lt. Cmdr. Kane to observe and record the interior of the ship and ai