Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: Sun, 21 Mar 2004 07:45:17 GMT In: alt.startrek.creative From: "Jay P Hailey" Title: Star Trek: Outwardly Mobile Author: Jay P Hailey (JayPHailey@hotmail.com) Series: MISC - TNG OCs Codes: None Part: 41/342(?) Rating:[PG] Archive: Fine with me, just tell me where. Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Star Trek. I claim Original Characters and Situations for me. Webpage HTTP://jayphailey.8m.com The Harmon: Episode 41 by Jay P. Hailey And Dennnis Washburn I had plans on my terminal for cold-sleep tubes. If all else failed I would turn the Harrier into a sleeper ship and try to await rescue. I was nervous about it. We would be out of control. If something got us, we would die never knowing what hit us. I didn't like that idea. I was determined to wait until hibernation was the last option before I tried it. "Captain to the Bridge!" Li'ira's voice called on my intercom. I keyed the Bridge. "Report!" "Contact at relative bearing 010 mark 005, Captain, Unknown configuration." Had the Kliges'chee found us? I dropped everything and ran to the Bridge. Arriving on the bridge I saw the intruder on the main screen. It was a point of light. "What is that?" "Scans just bounce off, Captain." Tillean said. "It's on an intercept course, sir, at warp four point three." "Open hailing frequencies." "Hailing frequencies open." "This Captain Jay P. Hailey of the Federation starship Harrier. We are on a mission of peaceful exploration. Will you communicate with us?" We waited. "The unknown is now within weapons range." Stephanie reported. "Is it still on an intercept course?" "Yes, Sir." "Hail them again." "Aye, Sir. Hailing." We waited "No response. The unknown is now at three hundred thousand kilometers." "Mr. Spaat, begin evasive maneuvers." "Aye, Sir. " The screen started to wobble around dizzily. "Report." "No effect, Captain, the unknown is still closing with us." "Yellow alert. Hail them again." "Aye, Sir." "The unknown is now at close range." Harksain Varupuchu reported. "Raise shields." "Shields up, Captain." "Any response to the hail?" "None, Captain." "Red alert. Open the channel, please." The alarms of the Harrier summoned the crew to battle stations. "Channel open, Captain." "This is Captain Hailey of the Harrier. Your actions might be misinterpreted as hostile. I am prepared to act to defend my ship. Please respond." We waited. The point of light could be seen now as a globe in the main view screen. "The unknown is now at point blank range." That was less than five kilometers. The Harrier strained through a turn trying to avoid the thing. "Arm weapons." I said "Weapons arming." "Impact in fifteen seconds." "Phasers armed." "Twelve, eleven..." "Phasers fire." The phasers of the Harrier lashed out and touched the globe. Nothing happened. "No effect, Captain." "Four, three, two..." "Brace for impact." We all grabbed something. The alert klaxon took on a more strident tone. A large face appeared floating in the air near the main view screen. It looked like a mask. One of those masks used as the symbols for drama. It started out blank, but then took on an angry expression. I stood up in front of it. Even with empty eyes, I had the feeling that it was looking at me. "I am Captain Jay P. Hailey. I welcome you to the Harrier." I spread my arms slowly. It looked at me. "Are you the Harmon?" For a brief moment the angry scowl was replaced by a cheerful grin. Then the angry scowl returned. "Can you understand us?" Again the scowl was briefly replaced with a grin, which quickly faded. I noticed just then that the Harrier was still turning and dodging in response to her evasive maneuvers program. "Mr. Spaat, All stop." The Harrier came to a halt and the face showed another grin. "Do you have a spoken language?" I asked. The face showed a moment of a sad frown and then returned to an angry scowl. Was it my imagination that the angry scowl wasn't quite as resentful? "We are in distress. We would like your aid." The face showed a moment of sad frown. "Could you tell us the location of your space?" The face grinned and then the science station lit up. A stellar chart was called up and then the exact areas of Harmon space were delineated. It wasn't very big, about one hundred and eighty light years across. I saw that notations were added to the chart. Harmon space was marked by a series of bizarre stellar phenomenon. As long as you steered clear of those, you wouldn't run into Harmon space. "Thank you." The face grinned. "Do you know the locations of Kliges'chee space?" The sad frown returned. It was replaced by an even angrier scowl. "I apologize. The Kliges'chee pose a serious threat to us. We don't want to be eaten." The face went slowly blank. "Ah, Hello?" I was desperate "Please don't give up! I'm sure that we can communicate!" The eyes of the mask flashed brightly. -*- I was a Harmon. I was floating in the air of the Harrier's bridge, while I watched my own body crumple to the floor like a sack of potatoes. It was awful. I could see every minute flaw in the Harrier. She was an aesthetic nightmare. All the angles are subtly wrong. All the colors just slightly off, and the effect was horrid. As I watched my body crumple to the floor I noticed that it was really not a great design. There were so many ways to do the things that my body did, only better. As form followed function, I realized that aesthetically the poor functioning of my body made it pretty sad from an artistic point of view too. Worse the same basic flaws were repeated with a certain amount of variety by every living being on the Harrier. As my mind encompassed each being on the Harrier, his every minuscule imperfection stood out to me, and it was very irritating. I saw the Harrier as whole object and she was pretty sad. The whole basic concept of matter/anti-matter annihilation leading to plasma energy transfer was flawed, but even if I was willing to accept the idea for the sake of argument, we simply hadn't put the whole thing together very well. Then my mind turn turned to society and the Federation, and what a botched up mess we had made of things there. I was half tempted to shut the whole thing away before it hurt anyone else with its inept fumblings. Then I realized that I was mad. It was a painful realization, but I immediately came to understand the inherent flaw in me. As a Harmon I had given thousands of years to the pursuit of perfection. The act of perfecting myself had given me vast powers and perceptions. However, my own obsession with perfection led me to critically analyze everything in the minutest detail. Imperfection annoyed me. To perceive an imperfection was to admit that such a thing was possible, even in me. I saw the entire galaxy as an imperfect thing that I needed to correct piece by individual piece. I knew that this was madness. Even with my perfected powers and perceptions I couldn't change the entire galaxy enough to make it perfect. Worse, the more I fought with it the more it would seem to deteriorate. My own perceptions would magnify the imperfect areas out of proportion. I had to review myself. I could not make the Galaxy perfect, therefore I had to make myself perfectly suited to the galaxy as it was. Or, imperfect. This was big step and I was afraid. I needed to hide, I needed to be alone. I needed to be quite inside and let my perfect spirit grapple with these problems. Choosing a place that wasn't quite perfect, I set myself to contemplate the nature of perfection and imperfection. But I was continuously interrupted. Bugs in little starships came to me calling for my attention. Bugs shouldn't build starships. They don't really know how. In leaky, crappy death traps they came by the hordes. I set warning signs and traps to send them away, but they were really thicker than mosquitoes on a river. I could kill them out right with my perfected powers, but my perfected ethics restrained me. To do so would make me the exact opposite of perfect. Some bugs were even less perfect than others, and these, the Kliges'chee actually tried to eat me. With exasperation I turned their swarm aside again and again until they got the point and left. Even so, the bugs and their aggressive imperfection continued to intrude. The bugs were friendly or angry or fearful or awed and worshipful. Their little imperfect emotions didn't matter. Each one was about as annoying as any other. My meditations were interrupted time and again. They were important. I must end my own madness and adjust myself to be harmonious with an imperfect world. If my madness grew, then bugs and bigger animals and maybe even other people might be in danger of being hurt. The thought pained me. I needed to heal myself. If only the bugs would leave me alone. --- Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free. Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com). Version: 6.0.634 / Virus Database: 406 - Release Date: 3/18/2004 -- Stephen Ratliff ASC Awards Tech Support http://www.trekiverse.us/ASCAwards/commenting/ No Tribbles were harmed in the running of these Awards ASCL is a stories-only list, no discussion. Comments and feedback should be directed to alt.startrek .creative or directly to the author. Yahoo! Groups Links To visit your group on the web, go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCL/ To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: ASCL-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to: http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/ From ???@??? 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