The officers and crew of the USS Grus had settled in to a steady routine of monitoring the mysterious M class planet occupied it would seem by people from Earth. There were a few issues, not least of which, was the complete inability of the Universal Translator to do its job, regarding any messages and radio transmissions that had been intercepted. There had been a couple of minor power fluctuations that Lieutenant (JG) Lyambo and his engineering team were looking into, as yet no explanation had presented itself. Doctor de Havilland was also concerned about a high number of headaches being reported amongst the crew. He was yet to find a cause for that, also.
Crewman Ishan Rahul was one of those who’d complained about having a headache, and nothing the doctor had prescribed him, seemed to make much of a different. He’d just stepped out of the shower, as he got ready for his early evening shift as part of the science team analysing the data collected by the probe as it continued to orbit the nearby planet.
There seemed something not quite right about his room that he shared with three other crewmembers; where were any of them? He was positive at least one of them had been here when he’d headed into to shower, only a few minutes ago. There was however a presence, he could feel it, along with a slight drop in temperature.
Ishan spun to his right, not sure of who or what he was about to confront. There sitting on the sofa, which made up part of the communal living space was, Jitendra Rahul, his grandfather. Ishan braced one arm against the nearest, as his legs almost gave from under him. “Pitamah!”
“You’ve disappointed me.” The old man spoke with a gruff croaky voice.
“How can you be here?” Ishan exclaimed. “This is just impossible.”
“And yet you see me with your own eyes, and hear me with your own ears.” The man continued. “Do you not?”
Still completely is shock, Ishan merely nodded as way of reply. His brain was having a hard time rationalising the situation, and to make matters worse, that headache was back. “How can you possibly be here?”
“I’m here to discover why you’ve failed to carry out my orders?” The croakiness was gone, replaced by the thundering boom, Ishan remembered from his childhood. It was a voice that put fear into the hearts of any member of the household; young or old.
“I’ve tried, Pitamah, really I have.” The young man’s voice was weak and apologetic. “I risked my life when I opened fire on the Devore hoping they’d cut him down!”
“And yet you live, and more importantly, so does he.” Jitendra eyes burned with an intensity Ishan had never witnessed before.
“I’ve not had another chance since then.”
“Lier; this vessel is a ship of war, it has weapons, use them.”
“I can’t get access to the phasers, unless there is an emergence on board or I’m part of a Landing Party.” Ishan closed his eyes. None of this had ever made sense, not the mission he’d been tasked to perform, or the confusing reason he was being asked to commit this murder. Because that’s what he was being told to do; murder Jason Devron. As for the photo; that photo was a complete impossibility; it just couldn’t exist, and yet it was there, hidden amongst his things. Proof that somehow and somewhere, everything was messed up.
When he opened his eyes, his Grandfather was gone; instead Jenson was waving a cup in his general direction. “I said, did you want a coffee.”
**********
Lieutenant-Commander Chance Vought stepped into the turbo lift; feeling a chill as he did so. He was heading from the Bridge to Engineering to have a brief chat with him Chief Engineer. He knew he’d entered the lift alone, yet as he turned back towards the door, the first thing he spotted was the polished black leather of a pair of boots.
As his eyes moved upwards, it was evident from the uniform colour and style that this was a cadet; the only cadet currently on the ship was nurse Telina and she had not been on the Bridge, nor did she wear a uniform like this. The body shape did indicate a female though.
The last face he would have expected to see was that of a dead woman. The fourth year cadet, who he had witnessed possessed by the Borg. The veins on her face and neck; black and clearly defined, her eyes cold, soulless.
“You couldn’t save me could you?” She mocked. “You can’t save them either. You can’t save anyone”
“Why are you here?” Chance yelled back at the cadet.
“To watch you suffer.” She laughed, closing her eyes and tipping her head back.
He made a lunge for her, much in the same way he’d done on that tragic day; that day she’d fallen to her death. The lift doors opened, but not on to the corridors of a starship; no, beyond the door was nothing but blue sky and clouds. The two of them feel together this time, the wind whipping at their uniforms, as gravity drew them to their doom, his face mere millimetres from hers, and still she laughed.
There was a moment when time seemed to stop. Vought could no longer feel the tug of the wind, or hear the sound of the woman’s laughter; because neither of those things existed. What now confronted his eyes, was the deck-plating of a corridors floor section.
“Are you ok sir?” A concerned voice came from a point above his head.
Vought gingerly pushed himself up off the floor, taking a proffered hand which helped him to his feet. “Thank you. Err.”
“Shearwater Sir.” The man replied. “Crewman, Alexander Shearwater.”
“I have no idea what just happened there.” Vought admitted; feeling rather embarrassed to have been discovered, sprawled across the floor by a member of his crew.
“Well if you will go jumping out of Runabouts, what do you expect?” Crewman Shearwater stated matter of factually.
“What did you just say?” Vought questioned, sure his fogged brain had miss understood.
“I just asked if you were in a hurry, jumping and running about, like that.” Shearwater half smiled.
The Lieutenant-Commander shook his head; maybe he was just hearing things. He thanked the crewman again, and made his way to Main Engineering. Shearwater watched him walk away. “Harha’kuva is calling, and soon we will all answer that call.”
Bravo Fleet

