"Star Trek: Olympus" - McGreggor's Pest Chapter TWO

CHAPTER TWO

Captain’s Log Supplemental: The Olympus has been diverted off her previous mission to locate and possibly aid a prototype Klingon Bird of Prey that the Klingons have lost contact with. We will be entering unsurveyed territory.

The Olympus dropped out of warp at the location where the Klingons lost contact with their prototype vessel. Commodore Christiansen leaned forward in the command chair looking at the viewscreen on the bridge as it displayed a starfield with some gaseous formations here and there.
“Lieutenant Rzeczkowski, take the Science station,” ordered Christiansen as Lt. JG Nicholas Rzeczkowski got out of the Ops station and climbed up the steps up and headed over to the Science station and sat down at it and started using the vessel’s sensors.
“Sir,” reported Lt. Rzeczkowski. “Ship sensors are detecting an unidentified mass bearing zero-five-one mark three-three-two, very large.”
“Can you make it out?” asked Christiansen.
“Negative,” said Rzeczkowski. “I can’t seem to identify it. It doesn’t match anything in Starfleet records. And I have detected the Klingon vessel’s locator beacon, it appears to be within the mass.”
“Put it on screen,” ordered Christiansen.
The main viewscreen displayed what appeared to be some sort of gigantic web, spherical in nature. It was green colored with what appeared to be leaves coming out of it. The commodore got up from his command chair to get a closer look at it.
“How big is it?” asked Commander Coleman in her chair.
“The diameter of the mass appears to be twice the size of Earth,” reported Lt. Rzeczkowski. “I’m running an analysis on it. I am detecting what appears to be chlorophyll, cell nucleus, cell walls…commodore, in short, what you’re looking at is a huge formation of plants.”
“Plants?” asked Coleman. “In space?”
“It’s possible,” said Lt. Rzeczkowski. “Commodore, didn’t you fly through a nebula which had plant life one time? ”
“I did,” said Christiansen. “But that’s different. There was a pressurized oxygen envelope at that time, but this is different, no oxygen, no pressurized environment this time. Lieutenant, are you detecting any concentration of gases?”
“Affirmative,” said Rzeczkowski. “I am reading an intense concentration of hydrogen, nitrogen and ammonia gases within the mass. The navigational deflectors should clear us of such gases.”
“I hope so,” said Christiansen. “Commander Danis.”
“Yes?” asked Danis.
“Plot us a course inside that plant mass,” ordered Christiansen. “One quarter impulse power.”
“Aye sir,” said Danis as she entered the course. “I’ve got it plotted.”
“Lieutenant, do you have a fix on the beacon?” asked Commander Coleman.
“Affirmative,” said Lt. Rzeczkowski. “It’s deep within the mass, near the heart of it.”
“A big trip,” said Danis. “All right.”
“Transmit the location to the helm,” ordered Christiansen. “And go to yellow alert.”
“Aye sir,” said Danis.
“Switching to yellow alert,” said Baker as the yellow alert sounded and all monitors entered yellow alert mode.
“Attention all decks,” said the computer. “Yellow alert. I repeat; the ship is on yellow alert.”
“Take us in,” ordered Christiansen.
“Aye sir,” said Danis as she set the heading and speed to send the starship into the plant mass. The image of the spherical arrangement of space plants grew larger and larger, indicating that the starship was moving into the phenomenon.
“Sir,” said Coleman. “I’d recommend we put up shields, just in case.”
“Do it,” said Christiansen. “Fire up the shields at twenty-five percent power. Prepare to go to full if need be.”
“Aye sir,” said Baker. “Shields at twenty-five percent and all set to go to full power in case we need them.”
“Good,” said Coleman. “Just in case there are any booby traps.”
Commodore Christiansen gave a brief curious stare at Commander Coleman before looking ahead at the viewscreen and leaning back as the starship entered the plant mass lying ahead of them. Around them were huge leaves, thick and bulky, looking like fat elm leaves. The field was dense enough to block any sights out of any stars in the field. The interior of the plant mass was dark due to the fact of barely any light passing through the plants. The viewscreen’s brightness level went up several notches to help the bridge crew see well through the mass.
“Keep sensors fixed on that Klingon locator beacon,” said Christiansen. “Ensign Robhama.”
Ensign Robhama turned from Communications. Ensign Robhama was a new addition to the Olympus crew. His race was known as the Llortari, a race that was introduced to the Federation back during the perilous Dominion War. The Llortari were somewhat shorter than other humanoid species. They were blue all around except for their faces, which was a jet black. They also had red eyes, and a noise and a mouth that seemed to have a remblence to a cat. Their blue skin was extremely insulated, thus allowing no need for clothing. The only piece of clothing that Robhama had on was a navy blue vest with his insignia and rank on it, which went with one of the fatigue outfits for the Olympus crew normally.
“Yes, commodore?” asked Ensign Robhama.
“Open hailing frequencies,” said Christiansen. “Maybe we can raise them and tell them that we’ll help.”
“Aye sir,” said Ensign Robhama. “I have the hailing frequencies open. No response.”
“Keep hailing,” said Christiansen. “We should try. Continue course through this vast network of plants and see if we can find that Klingon ship.”
“Aye sir,” said Robhama.
“As for me,” said Christiansen. “Commander, the bridge is yours. I’m going to rest a bit in Ten Forward.”
“Aye sir,” said Coleman.
Commodore Christiansen got out of his command chair and stepped out of the command arena and entered the port side turbolift. When the doors shut in front of him, he said, “Ten Forward.”
The turbolift started to move down six decks, then sideways for a bit, and then down four more decks, and then horizontally again. The turbolift soon halted as the doors opened to reveal a network of corridors but beside those corridors were Ten Forward. However, Christiansen did not go to Ten Forward just yet, he entered a Head, one of the starship’s rest rooms. They were unisex, both men and women used them simultaneously. On one end were sinks with controls by them; some races used other cleaning materials than water to clean themselves. Along the wall to his left were the toilets, each with private booths. There was also a terrible stench in the rest room, one that the commodore was almost ready to hold his nose for; usually the whole place would be kept fresh. However, the commodore walked up to the booth where the stench was coming from. The door was not locked as he opened it. Inside there was what looked like a huge oval tank connected to a box. There was a support for a ring inside, probably some toilet seat. The commodore looked in the tank and saw a huge heap of solid body waste, not human.
“Computer,” said Christiansen. “Flush.”
The tank suddenly swooshed with water as the whole mess was washed down a big drain. When the whole flushing procedure was done, the commodore said, “computer, human waste disposal unit.”
The whole metallic apparatus liquefied before his very eyes and morphed into a smaller oval platform leading into a smaller oval tank attached to the box which was the circuitry for the waste disposal unit. The technology was a new alien technology adapted to the Olympus to compensate for the fact that different aliens extract their wastes differently. The technology was one of the first Starfleet uses of Llortari technology, put on the Olympus during her Mark III Galaxy-class refit.

T’nk’walk was drinking a cup of raktajino , a Klingon coffee that was usually supposed to keep Klingons energized and about, in Ten Forward. In front of him were some other Klingon delicacies, known as gagh; the Klingon serpent worms that Klingons enjoyed eating live, claiming that gagh was served best when live . Unfortunately, the replicators on the Olympus could not produce live gagh. He ate most of it. In front if him also was a three-quarters finished Klingon Rokeg blood pie . Commodore Christiansen entered Ten Forward and noticed T’nk’walk sitting down. He took a seat by him and looked at his Klingon dishes, and looked a little nauseated at the mostly finished gagh and blood pie dishes.
“Did you eat that as a kid in your school cafeteria?” asked Christiansen.
“School cafeteria?” asked T’nk’walk.
“It’s a twentieth century stereotype,” said Christiansen. “Back in schools, kids often got food from the cafeteria and many didn’t like the food quality of it, it tasted awful.”
“All Klingon children eat gagh regularly,” said T’nk’walk.
“And I thought brussel sprouts were bad,” said Christiansen as he turned to the Bolian bartender. “Can you give me an ice cold Pepsi cola, without the ice, and extra fizz, and have it in a tall glass?”
The bartender turned to the replicator and said, “Computer, Pepsi cola, ice cold, extra fizz, tall glass, no ice.”
A tall glass of Commodore Christiansen’s favorite beverage materialized. He was a big cola drinker, unlike most starship captains who would order coffee or tea; he chose cold soda pop. The Bolian gave it to the commodore.
“Thank you,” said Christiansen.
“You’re welcome,” said the Bolian. “And I hope you are enjoying your gagh and blood pie.”
“Very fresh, thank you,” said T’nk’walk. “It’s a pity your replicators cannot produce live gagh.”
“That would take one load of energy to do that,” said Christiansen taking a sip of his Pepsi. “The replicators are unable to produce living beings. In my opinion, it also violates the rules of nature to do that. Us humans have violated many laws of nature and some of us paid the price with our lives. It’s amazing how naïve we used to be. And we still are, in a way.”
“There are some dishonorable Klingon warriors,” said T’nk’walk. “Klingon culture is not perfect either, even though we have a strong sense of honor. This is a glorious ship you have.”
“I wish we had some of these during the Dominion War,” said Christiansen. “It would have made it easier for us. But, if they come at us again, we can be ready for them. I hear your people are rebuilding.”
“We are,” said T’nk’walk. “The Klingon ship you are after was one of our steps on rebuilding.”
“We’ll find it,” said Christiansen. “And if it’s in good shape return it to you. Oh yeah, and speaking of culture, I noticed you Klingons do not flush…”
A flash of light came through that got the commodore’s attention. Out the Ten Forward windows, there was some distant thing within the plant mass that could be seen out the windows, emitting light.
“What the?” asked Christiansen.
The intercom sounded with Commander Coleman’s voice over the speakers. “Commodore Christiansen, you should come up to the bridge!”
“On my way,” said Christiansen. “Coming. Want to come with me, T’nk’walk.”
“Okay,” said T’nk’walk. “Besides, I could use the work.”

On the bridge, the distant light-emitting object was flashing through the leaves on the viewscreen. The port turbolift doors opened as Commodore Christiansen and T’nk’walk entered the bridge and saw the light that was flashing through the dark strand of leaves in the plant mass.
“What is that?” asked Christiansen.
“Sensors are unable to get a totally accurate fix on the object,” said Lt. Rzeczkowski at Science. “It doesn’t seem to have been encountered before. Whatever it is, it appears to be heading toward us.”
“A ship?” asked Christiansen.
“If it was, it’s not conformed to any known design,” said Rzeczkowski. “Could be a probe.”
“Does your Bird of Prey have an annoying front headlight?” asked Christiansen.
“Headlight?” asked T’nk’walk. “No, that’s not our vessel.”
“Shields are at twenty-five percent power,” reported Baker. “Should I bring them up to full power?”
“Not yet,” said Christiansen stepping into the command arena and stepping up to the main viewscreen. “Let’s see what it does.”
“Should we activate the weapons?” asked Commander Baker.
“Negative,” said Christiansen. “I don’t want to promote a hostile act. Let’s give them benefit of the doubt, shall we?”
The viewscreen displayed the object emitting the light looming in on the Olympus through the leaves. Whatever it was it was flexible. Probably not a spaceship but it could have been possible.
“Keep scanning,” said Commander Coleman. “Maybe we can find out what it is.”
“I’ve ran an initial analysis on it,” said Lt. Rzeczkowski. “It appears to be comprised of carbon. I am also reading what appear to be internal body organs. Commodore, I think we might be dealing with a space-faring life form.”
Commodore Christiansen turned from Rzeczkowski to the viewscreen as the creature with the light moved into range of the Olympus and beam its light on to the starship.
“It looks pretty curious,” said Lt. Cmdr. Kaminski at Tactical II. “Whatever it is.”
“What’s causing the light?” asked Coleman.
“It appears to be some sort of reaction of body chemicals,” said Lt. Rzeczkowski. “Kind of like a firefly.”
“Or a Diamerem stingray,” said Ensign Frielia whose was manning the Conn for the time being.
“There’s a lot about your culture I don’t quite understand, ensign,” said Christiansen. “Except that you can breathe both air and water.”
“Don’t call me a mermaid,” said Frielia.
“Okay,” said Christiansen as he turned to the viewscreen of the creature. The creature resembled very much like a lobster with no legs, but flippers and a long tail like a tadpole. “It looks curious. Commander Baker, lower the shields.”
“Commodore?” asked Baker.
“Lower them,” said Christiansen. “We don’t mean these aliens any harm. Let’s give them benefit of the doubt. But prepare to re-raise them if necessary.”
“Aye sir,” said Baker nervously working his console and lowering the starship’s shields. “Lowering shields.”
The viewscreen displayed the creature moving again. The entity pivoted around away from the Olympus, but still headed to the starship. The bridge lurched slightly.
“The entity has attached itself onto the lower saucer section,” reported Lt. Rzeczkowski.
“What’s it up to?” asked Lt. Cmdr. Kaminski.
The alien started moving actions within its body as it clung to the hull of the Olympus.
“I am reading some sort of fissure opening up within the creature,” reported Lt. Rzeczkowski. “Looks like it’s trying to let something out.”
“Uh oh,” said Cmdr. Baker. “Tell me it’s not going to.”
The bridge lurched again. The alien let loose something from its body as it was stuck to the Olympus. More of it piled up on the hull. A huge wad of blackish-brown material was now on the starship’s lower hull, and the creature wasn’t done releasing it. In ten seconds, the alien got off the Olympus and flew away.
“That better not be what I think it is,” said Baker. “Because if it is…”
“Leave the creature alone,” said Christiansen. “Lieutenant…”
“It is,” said Rzeczkowski.
“Why that rude alien!” cried Baker, extending his hand and making a fist, extending his middle finger at the image of the creature on the viewscreen. “Suck that!”
“First off,” said Christiansen. “I don’t think that alien would ever understand the meaning of the F-word. And second off, pit stops are not a huge threat, and speaking of pit stops, T’nk’walk…”
“What do you want?” asked T’nk’walk.
“Would you mind flushing the next time?” asked Christiansen.
“Can I teach the alien?” asked Baker.
“Do you want to spend years learning how to communicate with it and miss all the fun?” asked Christiansen.
“All right,” said Baker.
“I admit it’s gross,” said Christiansen. “Why don’t we leave the big part to a science vessel and get that Klingon ship. Every second counts and I don’t think Klingons are exactly lenient on incompetence.”
“You are correct,” said T’nk’walk.
“I know,” said Christiansen. “Helm, continue course to the Klingon ship.”
“Commodore,” said Coleman. “If there are creatures in this place, perhaps we should activate the cloaking device. They won’t be able to see us when we’re cloaked.”
“Once we get the exocomps out there to clean up that mess,” said Christiansen. “Yeah, activate the cloak. That way, if there are creatures who do not find us friendly, they won’t be able to see us.”
“I would advise against it,” said Lt. Rzeczkowski. “We don’t have shields when we’re cloaked, commodore. Plus the fact is that is that they’re going to get rather picky when seeing something invisible. And we don’t know their full power and intent. You don’t want them ripping apart at our vessel now. I think minimal shields should be a wiser precaution.”
“Cloaking the ship would render us susceptible,” said Christiansen.
“Plus,” said Rzeczkowski. “The mass ahead might make the cloak useless.”
“Quite right,” said Christiansen. “Very well, power up the shields at twenty-five percent power, and get that muck off my hull. By the way, I do feel uncomfortable when alien space creatures think of my starship as a grazing place.”
“Okay,” said Baker. “But can I use weapons next time?”
“No!” said Christiansen. “Geez, we don’t want to hurt these creatures. Benefit of the doubt. Ensign Frielia, continue course into the mass, and follow that locator beacon.”
“Aye sir,” said Ensign Frielia. “Continuing course.”
“No response from the Klingon ship at any channel,” said Robhama.
“We have to keep going,” said Christiansen. “I hope that there’s someone still alive there.”
“If not,” said T’nk’walk. “You can retrieve our ship still.”
“I understand Klingons don’t value life as much as we do,” said Christiansen. “Look at it this way, I bet the Klingons would want their fine warriors back. They’ll get more shots at glory, and I bet they’d love that!”
“Wise argument,” said T’nk’walk.
“Trust me,” said Christiansen smiling. “Gives the Klingons another shot at glory, do you think?”
“A very interesting way to value the Klingon heritage,” said T’nk’walk. “You know, you could be our first non-Klingon philosopher.”
“You think?” asked Christiansen. “Never thought of that.”
Christiansen turned back towards the viewscreen as they went through the huge plant mass. Attached to the various stems and branches were what looked like beehives, although with no opening. Perhaps they were seeds or some sort of food for the aliens.
“Lieutenant,” said Coleman. “Run an analysis on those beehive-like structures.”
“Running,” said Lt. Rzeczkowski. “I am reading what appear to be cotyledons and also what appears to be a plant embryo within a small part of the structure. Judging from the readings, it appears to be some sort of fruit or vegetable. I could run additional studies on it if you want to or we can beam a sample aboard.”
“Leave that to a science vessel,” said Christiansen. “They’re more capable of this. I know Starfleet likes to research, explore, and study, and pick apart this and that. However, our main mission is a salvage operation. We’ll worry about dissection and scientific study later. A science vessel could help study this place more.”
“I hope so,” said Lt. Rzeczkowski. “Because they’re sure missing out!”
“Maintain course,” said Christiansen. “Ensign Robhama how’s the signal?”
“It’s stable for now,” said Ensign Robhama at Communications. “I’m still unable to raise the Klingon ship, but the signal has not gone silent. However, there is the definite possibility that it might go silent eventually.”
“That’s why we’re continuing our heading,” said Christiansen.
“Commodore,” said Lt. Rzeczkowski. “I am reading something one bearing three-three-one mark three-zero-one, moving slightly. Correction, make that two objects.”
“On screen,” ordered Christiansen.
The main viewscreen switched to the image of what appeared to be two more of those lobster-like space-faring creatures that were wrapped around each other. There was also a three-quarters eaten version of those hive-like masses, suggesting that they were food.
“They appear dormant,” said T’nk’walk.
“Their activity seems to be slower than the first creature,” said Rzeczkowski. “I am reading what appear to be bodily fluids being exchanged from one of the creatures to another.”
“Uh oh,” said Baker. “Can I have a picture of this?”
“A picture?” asked Christiansen. “What for? NO YOU’RE NOT!!!”
“All right,” said Baker.
“Sir,” said Coleman. “If the two are doing what we think they are doing, perhaps we should leave them alone.”
Another alarm came from the Science station.
“What’s that?” asked Christiansen.
“I am reading an increase of activity in one of the creatures!” reported Rzeczkowski.
All of a sudden, the bridge was lit up by one of the creatures that turned on its ‘headlight’ and shone it at the Olympus. The other one did as well as both creatures seemed to stare at the starship.
“Sir,” reported Ensign Robhama. “I am getting signals over a subspace band.”
“Where are they coming from?” asked Commander Coleman.
“They appear to be coming from the creatures!” said Robhama.
“What?” asked Coleman. “On speakers!”
All of a sudden, sounds that appeared to sound like locusts at the night swarmed over the speakers on the bridge of the Olympus.
“Sir,” said Robhama. “Since there is no air in space to carry sound waves, the aliens could use subspace radio frequencies to communicate with themselves.”
“Interesting thought,” said Christiansen. “Is it possible we could use the universal translator to speak to them?”
“The universal translator is having trouble interpreting the language,” said Robhama. “However, I could try to program the translator to int…”
All of a sudden, the bridge was jolted, and again.
“What’s happening?” asked Coleman.
“It seems these creatures are not too happy about us intruding on them,” said Baker.
The viewscreen displayed both creatures trying to whack the starship using their flippers, even though the shields were protecting the starship from their attempts to attack the starship.
“What if they try to warn their friends?” asked Robhama. “Perhaps we should try to knock them out!”
“Agreed,” said Baker. “Even those they are not a problem, I wouldn’t want our vessel crawling over with creatures as we are trying to complete our mission.”
A huge jolt rocked the Olympus. One of the creatures head-butted the starship, as the other one was about to do it.
“Shields holding,” reported Lt. Cmdr. Kaminski.
“Increase shields to full,” ordered Christiansen.
“Aye sir,” said Lt. Cmdr. Kaminski. “Full shields.”

In engineering, all the engineering personnel were holding on to consoles, handrails, and ladders trying to keep themselves balanced from the creatures that were causing the shaking. Cmdr. Martin was holding into the main engineering console as he hit his combadge.
“Bridge,” said Cmdr. Martin. “What’s all the infernal racket going on with our ship?”
“It seems we came across some alien creatures when they were mating,” said Christiansen over the intercom. “And they weren’t too happy invading our privacy!”
“Well would you please do something about it?” asked Martin.

“Sir,” said Baker. “I believe if we cut the disruptors down to minimal power, we could stun the creatures.”
“I don’t know how susceptible they’d be,” said Rzeczkowski.
“Why don’t we just ram them back?” asked Ensign Frielia. “It might do them better!”
“Why not?” said Christiansen. “Ensign Frielia, prepare the impulse engines for a short burst at full impulse, bring us about to face the creatures and stand by.”
“Aye sir,” said Frielia managing to turn the Olympus toward the two creatures that were head-butting them. They just butted the starship again and were moving back from a distance so they could do it again.
“Punch it!” ordered Christiansen.
The Olympus blasted her impulse engines heavily, knocking both creatures out of the way. In addition they broke loose one of the stems in the plant network as well as break apart one of the food nodules that the space faring creatures were using.
“All STOP!” ordered Christiansen.
Frielia brought the ship to an all stop. The Olympus stopped short a huge formation of the aliens’ food nodules that lay dead ahead. The viewscreen displayed them clustered up.
“Damage report,” requested Coleman.
“No damage,” said Kaminski. “The shields held. We’re alright.”
“And the creatures?” asked Christiansen.
“They appear to have fled,” said Rzeczkowski.
“Good,” said Christiansen. “Continue course for the Bird of Prey.”
“Aye sir,” said Frielia at the Conn. “Continuing course.”
“Now, let’s get that mess off our hull,” said Christiansen. “As well.”