Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: Thu, 01 Apr 2004 01:31:22 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: 50/342(?) 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 ZTA-1 by Jay P. Hailey And Dennnis Washburn The medical team stabilized Krakowski and said "Go!" The engineers still in that effort turned on antigravity units and set the console drifting slowly but definitely towards the roof of the shuttle bay. Krakowski cursed a blue streak as the Console lifted off of his leg. I have seen industrial accidents before, but I still hate them. I wasn't able to turn away in time and I saw Krakowski's leg squished flat through the lower thigh. There was a lot of blood on the deck and some of it dripped off the console as it rose. The medical team ran off with Krakowski on a stretcher. They got clear of the force fields shielding the bay and were beamed to sickbay. I continued what I was doing. I went to a console and entered my access code. I pulled out the current navigational files and a file on horticulture. I took the files back to the Probe and stuck the isolinear chips into the appropriate slot. "Aha! Good idea Captain!" The Probe was enthusiastic. "Can you maintain a class M environment inside your shell long enough to take the plants to ZTA-1?" "If I have a small life support module installed, it should be a snap! That's part number P9-U8-4T, Life Support System, Small, Standard Environment." In a few moments we set the Probe up and got him centered on the launch platform. Tillean came back with the plants and we clipped them inside the Probe's payload bay. As we ran out of the bay the doors swept open. The force fields held in the atmosphere. I turned and stopped. It was an excellent view out of the bay. "Permission to launch, Captain?" Tillean said over the intercom. Her voice echoed in the shuttle bay. I nodded and waved her on. The tractor beam lit up and I both heard and felt the throbbing hum as it gently lifted the Probe out of his cradle and pushed him out side of the Harrier. There was a slight gust of wind as the force field bubbled to let him through. -*- After the Probe entered the atmosphere of ZTA-1, we lost the signal again. In a few moments we saw the Probe rise again. At the same time a bubble of class "M" environment appeared under the point where the probe entered the atmosphere of ZTA-1. We saw ZTA-1 rearrange its orbit further away from the star, Then its atmosphere started to change, flooding with carbon dioxide, an element necessary for plants to grow. ZTA-1 seemed to lose interest in us completely, after that. The Probe returned to the Harrier. It reported that ZTA-1 seemed deliriously happy upon the transfer of the plants and seemed to become wrapped up in its own concerns. Tillean and the Probe discovered how to access his neural nets and examine the programming found there. It was simply the Probes original programming which had expanded and adapted to fit its new environment. I allowed the Probe to stay with the Harrier. There were a raft of issues to resolve, but the Probe felt that he was a Federation loyalist, if not a citizen. I was reluctant to abandon a sentient creature that knew what I was doing to it, and could feel sad about it. He still made me nervous, and I believe that Stephanie Anderson made a point of keeping an eye on him. As soon as he found that he could stay, he asked to be referred to as "Bill" a name he felt was more palatable than "Probe A7-TU-BL". And so Bill the Probe joined our strange crew. -*- We left the system of ZTA-1 and moved on. The next star was three light years away. Exactly. To ten decimal places. That made me nervous. A light year is the distance that light takes to travel in one year. Since the year in question is one of Earth's years, the coincidence of a star system being located a precise multiple of light years away was too much to accept. During the first two days of the trip, the star was a G5 spectral type a little smaller and cooler than Earth's sun. On the third day of the trip, the star changed to a G3 type, almost identical to Earth's sun. Later on the third day as we entered the system, we scanned eight major planets and a multitude of smaller planetoids. The outer four planets were all gas giants with extensive rings systems and moons. The seventh planet was laid over on its side at almost ninety degrees to the plane of the ecliptic. The third planet was Earth-like. Really, really Earth-like. It appeared to be a replica of Earth set about four centuries in our past. They hailed us with old fashioned radio waves. The travel time on the messages was about an hour, but they seemed to know roughly where we'd be. After I cautiously answered the first message, we received a long signal explaining that all of this planet's history had lead them to expect us at this moment. They were prepared for our visit, which would begin a planetary time of celebration and renewal. Our arrival signaled the beginning of a new golden age of happiness. I chickened out. I sealed up the ship and ordered that no further signals would be answered. My decision was justified when they put my mother on the radio. She begged me to speak to her and to stop by for the planned visit. As soon as possible we warped out of the system. The day after, we reached a distance of one light year from this strange Virtual Earth. The G3 star disappeared and was replaced with the smaller G5 type. We reported these things back to the Zantree and Poong's world. -*- Another two days passed. I signed off on Krakowski's medical report. Dr. Flynn had managed to rebuild his leg. A few weeks of light duty and therapy and he would be back on duty. My doorbell rang again. I said "Enter." The Youn Delegate squeezed himself into my office. This was quite a trick. My office wasn't all that big to begin with. He had his Sergeant with him. "Uh-oh." I thought. Sergeant Yung had a black eye. The pompous delegate drew him self up and said "Captain, I must lodge an official protest." "Yes, Mr. Delegate?" "Please, it's `Your Honor'," The Delegate corrected "Your Starfleet Marines. They must be stopped and punished." "What have they done?" "They savagely beat my honor guard, sir! This act could have far reaching and dire consequences. Already word of this atrocity is already spreading among the Zantree Delegates." My voice turned cold "They what?" "Tell him, Sergeant." The delegate turned to the leader of his honor guard. The Sergeant stood with his shoulders hunched, his eyes on the deck. He was sulking. "They beat us up." He said, sulkily. I could see his pride dying a hideous death while he said it. "I don't mind telling you, Captain, that I take the safety of my honor guard very seriously. Very seriously, you see, for the Sergeant is also my nephew." The delegate's message was plain. Treat him right or eat hot politics. I was able to keep a straight face while the remains of the Sergeant's self respect and pride died. --- Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free. Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com). Version: 6.0.639 / Virus Database: 408 - Release Date: 3/22/2004 -- 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! 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