STARDATE – 22/10/2017

Return to The Void

Trekkies, Trekkers and…other sci-fi geeks…

So…that is another novel length addition to this ‘Star Trek – The Void’ series finished. I plan to release this story as a trilogy of three novels.

‘Return To The Void’ shall…return…at a later date with a final installment to the trilogy!

I would like to thank all those who have supported me by reading, liking, following and commenting.

Special thanks to my two obvious biggest fans, my partner and mum!

So…

 

Did Captain Amity and Leenda Valda make it to the Immaru’s realm, and can they convince the nefarious Hierarchy to help them save Harold and the crew?

Will Brett Massie strike one final fatal blow with his modified torpedo time-bomb? Will the ship explode, killing Harold and the remaining crew on board?

And is there an even bigger picture emerging as Harold and the crew further challenge their reality?

Can they finally free themselves from the void?

How will it all end?

 

Find out and join me…soon(ish)… 🙂

STARDATE – 20152.4

Harold whrrrs with satisfaction, as Lieutenant McDonald punches in a few more commands on the panel outside Massie’s quarters. The dampening field finally drops. Captain Amity and Lieutenant Jamieson stand together in the corridor with Matthews irately pacing back and forth behind them.

‘Success, at last, well done, Chief,’ Amity says.

‘Don’t celebrate too soon there, Captain,’ McDonald says, still tapping on the panel, ‘the doors still won’t budge.’ She scoops up her tool-kit and gets to her feet. ‘It’s been sealed with something…self sealing stem bolts or some kind of powerful adhesive maybe?’

Harold bleeps in the background.

‘So, how do we get in?’ Jamieson asks.

‘Don’t you have a tool for this in that tool-kit of yours, Chief?’ Amity asks.

McDonald smiles and reaches into the tool-kit.

‘Aye, I’ve got the perfect thing for it.’

She pulls out a phaser, sets it to its highest setting, and aims at the doors.

‘With your permission, Maam?’

Amity smiles.

‘A bit crude, Chief, but if it works, go ahead.’

McDonald fires the phaser and cuts a line down the centre of the doors. They give, and as McDonald ceases firing, the doors spring open, startling everyone. They all stare into the darkened quarters.

‘Oh dear,’ Harold says, beeping.

‘Harold, what are your sensors picking up? Is there anyone in there?’ Amity asks, quietly.

‘I am not detecting any life signs, Captain, but I am detecting something else.’

Amity squints at Harold’s ambiguity.

‘Go on, Harold,’ McDonald says.

‘You are not going to like it.’

Amity huffs and turns to McDonald.

‘Can I borrow that phaser?’

McDonald hands the phaser over. Amity turns to face the quarters and strides inside. Her crew follow her inside. Massie’s quarters are dimly lit and they all strain to see in the dark.

‘Harold,’ Amity sighs, ‘the lights?’

Harold bleeps and the room is illuminated. Their eyes immediately fall on the large contraption on the living room table.

‘Oh no,’ Matthews whispers, recognising it.

A modified torpedo.

‘That’s…not good…’ Jamieson says, nervously gawking at it.

McDonald moves ahead.

‘Careful,’ Amity warns her, halting her.

‘I’m just going to take a look,’ McDonald says. She edges closer.

Matthews scans the room. It is a mess, and stinks of rotting meat. Sulphurous. Matthews follows his nose for moment and tracks a stench to Massie’s sleeping area.

Harold bleeps.

‘I would not go in there. There is…a body.’

Matthews freezes.

‘Not another one,’ Amity mumbles, charging passed him into the sleeping area, and then she freezes and recoils.

‘Oh, Jesus!’ she blurts.

Matthews rushes to her side and spots the cause of her outcry. Propped up in bed, is the headless, decaying corpse of Dunkhan. The skin has been removed from the Reptilian’s hands, claws and all. Matthews takes Amity’s arm and hurriedly leads her back into the living room.

‘Now we know what the smell is,’ Matthews gasps, releasing Amity’s arm. She staggers forward, fazed.

‘What kind of…monster..?’ she whispers.

‘It could have been any one of us,’ Matthews says, grimly, ‘the compound, the right type of environment, set of circumstances…could have turned any one of us into a monster.’

‘Let’s not forget, half the crew did turn into monsters,’ Amity adds, glum.

Harold bleeps.

‘And you think the Reptilians are bad? Yes, you humans are just a tip-toe away from crazy homicidal maniacs.’

‘Yes, thank you for your sensitive input, Harold, as ever,’ Matthews squints. He notices there are PADDS lying about everywhere. He picks one up and taps the screen. A recording of Massie’s voice plays back.

…and that’s when I started to see the truth in what he was saying. All along he knew, there is only one truth in life, one constant. The Inevitable. Death. Death eats itself in the end. Death brings about its own death. The death of death is the inevitable truth. Death is all and death is all there ever will be. Death…’

Matthews taps the screen, stopping the playback.

‘Thank you,’ Jamieson smiles, disturbed.

Matthews replaces the PADD and picks up another and taps the screen. Another recording.

…all throughout the history of humanity, right back to the first civilisations, there has been references to them. Their description. Their presence. Sometimes depictions. They’ve been there all along. Living alongside us. Among us. Clever, patient, calculating. Waiting for the perfect time to strike the weak and fickle humans…

Matthews stops the recording and tosses the PADD aside.

‘Loony,’ Jamieson says, anxiously.

‘Yeah, you think you know someone,’ Matthews says, wide-eyed. ‘He’s talking about Dunkhan, the Reptilians,’ he explains.

‘Sounds like he admires them,’ Amity says, with a close eye on McDonald, as she delicately walks around the torpedo.

Matthews picks up another PADD and begins playback.

…if that bastard thinks he can bugger me and then toss me aside like one of his floozies, I don’t know who he thinks he is, but I’ll show him…

Matthews frantically taps the screen and throws the PADD across the room.

McDonald makes a discovery of her own. Another PADD carefully placed on top of the torpedo casing.

‘Captain,’ she nods.

Amity spots it. She slowly approaches and carefully lifts the PADD off the torpedo. McDonald stands beside her. Matthews and Jamieson step closer. Amity holds the PADD up and taps the screen.

There is a

tense

pause.

The torpedo seems to charge and then give off an electronic hum. It begins to bleep, over and over.

‘That’s…definitely not good,’ Jamieson whines.

Now Massie’s voice coming from the PADD.

…if you are playing this, and hearing me…well…it means I am dead, and not only have you found my parting gift, but, by playing this recording, you have armed the torpedo and activated the countdown sequence. I consider this the final blow. A victory for the true, superior, supreme species and rightful heirs to planet Earth, the Reptilians. I only wish I could be there, with you now. To see the look on your face. Is it you Captain? Or you, sweetheart, oh, how I wish it’s you? Well, say your goodbyes. You have one hour. The inevitable comes for us all, eventually. Today is your day. Dunkhan was right all along, the inevitable comes for us all. It has come for me, and now you…

Amity drops the PADD.

‘That sounds eerily like the last thing I said the last time we were facing the ship exploding,’ Jamieson says, shakily.

‘Does anyone else feel like we are going in circles?’ Matthews asks.

Amity shakes her head and the question away.

‘Harold, can you disable the torpedo?’

Harold whrrrs.

‘Negative. Massie has erected another dampening field around the torpedo.’

‘Can you beam it off the ship, into the void?’

‘Negative.’

‘Damn it!’ Massie blurts. ‘ Chief?’

McDonald nods.

‘If I can get in to the circuitry,’ she says, reaching for a panel on the torpedo. A bright blue light flashes, repelling McDonald’s hand.

‘Shit!’ McDonald yells, yanking her hand back.

‘Apparently Massie has also erected a force field,’ Harold says.

‘When you activated the PADD,’ McDonald explains.

Amity thinks fast.

‘Suggestions?’

‘Harold, can you erect a level ten containment field around the torpedo?’ McDonald asks.

‘Affirmative, but it will not be sufficient to contain the blast. I estimate the explosion will do considerable damage to several decks. I have calculated that there is a thirty seven percent chance that the explosion could destroy…the ship…me, and of course, all of you too.’

‘Harold, erect the containment field and begin giving evacuation orders to all crew members within the blast radius,’ Amity orders. ‘I want those decks cleared.’

‘Acknowledged,’ Harold says, beeping and whrrring. ‘What is it with you humans and blowing things up? You love your explosions.’

Amity chooses to ignore Harold’s whinging. She turns to McDonald.

‘Chief, how close are you to completing the polaric generator?’

‘Close, I left Leenda Valda and Ensign Jee on it,’ McDonald nods, ‘Leenda works…extraordinarily fast and efficiently, I’ve never seen anything like it, Captain. They may even have finished the work by now.’

‘Assign a small team to keep trying to deactivate the force-field, and the dampening field. I want you to get to Engineering as quickly as possible, finish the generator and get it to the Elder. If I can get through to this Hierarchy of theirs, perhaps they have someone, or the technology, that can deactivate the torpedo, or strengthen the containment field. Whatever help I can get.’

‘Do you really think they’ll listen to you, Cal?’ Matthews asks, stepping forward. ‘After everything you have told us about them, us all exploding sounds like it is doing them a favour.’

‘I have to try!’ Amity yells. ‘Do you have a better suggestion?’

‘No, but…’

‘But, what?’

‘You’re going to leave the ship, the crew, to perish, while you try to convince a bunch of sociopathic bureaucratic aliens to save our lives?’

‘I could do with a little encouragement here, Mark, not doubt! Besides, we perish whether I go or stay. I’ve got a chance to free us. I’m taking it.’

Matthews bites his lip. Amity huffs, frustrated, and turns to Jamieson.

‘Lieutenant, now would be a good time to collect that EV suit.’

‘Yes, Maam,’ Jamieson nods. He glances at McDonald. She nods in acknowledgement.

They both make for the exit.

Harold bleeps.

‘Some good news, nothing major, although I gather you could use all the good news you can get at the moment…’

‘Harold,’ Amity sighs.

‘The turbo lift shafts have been cleared and are functional again.’

Amity turns to her crew as they reach the exit.

‘You heard Harold, utilise the turbo lifts,’ she calls.

‘Aye Maam,’ McDonald calls back, as she and Jamieson disappear into the corridor.

‘Some…bad news,’ Harold whrrrs.

Amity braces herself.

‘Three bodies were removed from the turbo lift shafts,’ Harold bleeps.

Amity closes her eyes, her lip trembles as emotion overwhelms her. A memory fires through Matthews’ mind.

‘McAllister,’ he whispers. He gently breaks down.

‘Yes,’ Harold acknowledges. ‘Second technician Julie McAllister, Ensign Michael…’

‘Thank you,’ Amity blurts, cutting Harold off, ‘I’ll wait for the Doctor’s final casualty report.’

Amity and Matthews try to recompose themselves. They awkwardly glance at each other.

‘Here we are again,’ Matthews says, softly, ‘facing annihilation together.’

Amity, despite the circumstances, tries to smile.

‘How the hell did it come to this, Mark? This trek of ours, how can so much horror happen to one crew?’

‘There’s something bigger going on here, Cal. And, I don’t just mean the Immaru. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know it. My intuition has been right all this time. I was right about Harold. Right about the Immaru. And now, this. I know it, I feel it.’

Amity stares at Matthews, afraid. Harold bleeps.

‘This ship did explode, Captain. Perhaps, if you do indeed make it to the Immaru’s realm, you can ask them how they reversed time, and, more importantly, can they do it again?’

Matthews shakes his head.

‘It just doesn’t make sense. Why would the Immaru seal us in the chamber to die, only to save us from the ship exploding?’

‘Unless, as I postulated before,’ Harold whrrrs, ‘we are dealing with a higher power. Another player?’

Now Amity shakes her head.

‘Likewise, why would a higher power save us from the explosion, but allow forty eight,’ Amity catches her breath for a moment, ‘fifty one…of us to die in such a hideously brutal way?’

‘Perhaps, we don’t have to do anything?’ Matthews suggests, shrugging. ‘Perhaps we should just let the torpedo explode, and wait for this higher power to intervene again?’

‘That’s putting a little bit too much faith into that supposition, Mark? I would rather act, than do nothing. I’m still going through the fracture. I’m going to the Immaru’s realm and I will convince them to help us, and ultimately free us of this…void.’

‘If anyone can convince them,’ Matthews nods, smiling, ‘it’s you.’

‘Harold,’ Amity calls, ‘how long do we have left since the countdown began?’

‘There is fifty three minutes until detonation,’ Harold answers.

‘Well,’ Amity says, turning to Matthews, ‘I…had better return to the Immaru’s quarters.’

Matthews takes a deep breath.

‘Permission to join you, Captain? It…could be the last time I ever see you…alive.’

Amity looks into Matthews’ eyes. She has never seen such fear there before. It reflects her own.

‘Permission granted,’ she nods, gently.

They turn and make for the exit, in, fearful, yet determined, silence.

 

SUPPLEMENTAL

 

Mark Matthews paces along one side of the Immaru’s quarters, with the Elder pacing along the opposite side, both consumed with their thoughts. Captain Amity stands facing the far wall, staring up at the message on the wall.

Dear overlords, welcome to your very own “isolation chamber”. The keepers have become the captives. The captives have taken back what was stolen. Accept your punishment. Get comfortable, for you will remain here forevermore.

She considers her crew. Their mindset. Their mutiny. How she wasn’t prepared in the slightest for it, despite suspecting it was coming, eventually. Inevitably. And how close she came to quitting, like Matthews, and walking away. To let someone else bear the weight of responsibility, and the complexities and difficulties in holding a crew together. She wonders for a brief moment if she welcomed mutiny. It would have, after all, freed her of the responsibility of having to choose to step down as Captain. She quickly dismisses the thought. She knows this is her crew, and she doubts that there is anyone else onboard that cares for them as much as she. Amity glances over her shoulder at Matthews, who is pacing like a caged animal, the caged animal he has become. She turns to face him.

‘Mark,’ she calls.

Matthews halts and turns to her.

Amity stalls for a moment, looking into his eyes. He half smiles and nods.

‘I just wanted to say…sorry,’ Amity says, collected.

Matthews squints.

‘I realise,’ Amity goes on, ‘I have spent so much time blaming you, wrapped up in how I felt, deserted, betrayed…I never gave much concern for what you were going through. The numbness that the alcohol and isolation brought has caused me to look at my crew, generally, not personally. I’ve become distant. It’s a weakness. I know that. A weakness this crew does not deserve. That’s not the Captain I want to be.’

Matthews stands tall and nods, acknowledging Amity’s apology.

‘You are a good Captain, Cal. You’ve just been dropped in the middle of the most fantastic shit-storm that any Space Core Captain has ever faced,’ Matthews says, throwing a scowl in the Elder’s direction. He turns back to Amity, softens, and smiles. Amity smiles back.

‘You were a good Commander too, Mark,’ she says.

Matthews just laughs, doubting.

‘A long time ago, though…’ Amity adds, grinning.

Matthews nods.

‘Could be again?’ Amity tries.

Matthews looks down at the deck plating.

‘Some day, when we get out of here?’ Amity adds.

Matthews sighs, and looks up.

‘Maybe, some day?’ he shrugs, trying to smile. ‘But, tell me, what Captain would accept a…mutineer… in their crew?’

‘In time, this one,’ Amity nods. ‘I realise you resigned your commission, but you have devoted yourself to the crew in your own way, I see that now. In some ways, you had a closer eye on them than I did. You were right, about all of it. Harold. The Immaru. The…explosion…a power…greater than the Immaru. And I doubted and dismissed you every step of the way.’

The Elder slows her pace until she is still.

‘I…understand, Cal. I know how it must have sounded,’ Matthews admits. ‘But, this…intuition…it’s something this void has brought out in me. I can’t explain it, Cal, I just…know I have to follow it.’

They stare into each other. Amity takes a breath.

‘And what does your intuition say about me going through the fracture, to the Immaru’s realm?’

Matthews just stares, blank.

‘Which I still think is a big mistake,’ the Elder cuts in.

Amity and Matthews blink and look away.

‘The Hierarchy would never sanction…’ the Elder tries to add.

Matthews turns to the Elder, scowling.

‘This Hierarchy? What a joke!’ he barks. ‘A group of corrupt murderous hypocrites. Supposed empathic mediators, too xenophobic to welcome an alien, especially a lowly life form, like us humans, to their home world?’

The Elder just bats her eyelids.

‘You know, Captain,’ she says, gazing glumly into space, ‘alcohol, numbness and isolation sound rather good to me right now.’

Amity can’t help but burst out laughing, but she quickly covers her mouth with her hand.

‘Xenophobic?’ the Elder smirks, at Matthews. ‘Just take a look at what’s etched on the wall. Just take a look at this sorry mess we’re in. How it began.’

Matthews huffs.

‘Tell me,’ the Elder says, fixing her sparkling eyes on Amity, ‘this…explosion…higher power…you spoke of?’

Amity is a little unnerved by the Elder’s stare.

The doors to the Immaru’s quarters whsssh open and Lieutenant Jamieson clambers in, carrying a bundled up EV suit in his arms. Everyone turns to him, startled by his entrance. He freezes.

‘At ease, Lieutenant, come in,’ Amity calls.

The Elder looks surprised.

Lieutenant Jameson?’ she gasps.

‘I know, right?’ Matthews mumbles.

Jamieson opens his mouth to protest.

‘Who’s a Lieutenant?’ comes a voice from the doorway.

Everyone turns to see Leenda Valda and Lieutenant McDonald carrying in an impressively bizarre, large contraption, which at a glance might be mistaken for a modified jumbo food processor. The polaric generator.

‘Jameson…’ the Elder says, distantly, gazing at the generator.

‘You got promoted?’ Valda blurts at Jamieson, surprised, but delighted.

‘Stranger things may happen…’ Matthews grumbles, ‘maybe not.’

Valda and McDonald sit the generator down in the centre of the room. Jamieson dumps the EV suit down onto the deck plating in a huff.

‘Okay, first, ‘ he says, turning to the Elder, ‘it’s Jamieson. And, second,’ he continues, turning to everyone else with his voice steadily gaining in volume, ‘why is it so hard to bloody believe that I got a bloody promotion!?’

Everyone just gawks at him, in shocked silence.

‘Because you can’t even perform a simple task like fetch me a bottle of wine,’ the Elder explains.

Amity bursts out laughing again, but quickly clamps a hand over her mouth. Jamieson just huffs on the spot, livid and rigid, for a moment, but then seems to resign himself. He sighs and his body flops.

‘I’ll go get the wine,’ he sighs, turning to make for the door.

‘Delay that order,’ Amity calls, smiling, shaking her head.

Jamieson turns back to the group.

‘Your promotion was well earned, Lieutenant,’ Amity says, switching on her authority, ‘you’ve shown extraordinary loyalty and courage and dedication to duty during your time on this ship.’

Jamieson nods, grinning with approval.

‘Thank you, Captain.’

‘That’s all we need, another Lieutenant,’ McDonald winks at Jamieson.

‘Actually, Chief,’ Amity says, turning to McDonald, ‘what I need is a Lieutenant Commander.’

McDonald stares at her Captain, and smiles. She nods.

‘Now,’ Amity says, turning her attention to the generator in the centre of the room. Everyone slowly approaches the device and forms a loose circle around it. Amity turns to the Elder.

‘I need to ask something of you?’

The Elder peels her eyes off the generator and stares at Amity.

‘Go on?’

‘We all need to have a discussion. All of us. Including Harold. It’s only fair.’

The Elder cocks her head, knowing what this will entail. She nods.

‘Are you sure?’ Valda asks, nervously.

‘Look,’ the Elder blurts, ‘I could do with a stiff drink, but aside from that, I’m more in control than I have ever been.’ She turns to Amity. ‘You may proceed.’

Amity nods to McDonald, who quickly runs out the exit, into the corridor. After a few moments she returns.

‘The dampening field has been deactivated, Captain’ she confirms, rejoining the circle.

‘Oh,’ the Elder says, suddenly looking a little disturbed and unsteady on her feet. Valda watches on, worried.

‘Are you okay?’ she asks, a little giddy herself, feeling the crew’s emotion, and another powerful presence seeping into her.

‘Of course,’ the Elder says, recomposing herself.

‘Harold?’ Amity calls.

Harold whrrrs and bleeps.

‘I am here, Captain.’

‘Okay,’ Amity begins, taking a deep breath, ‘let’s get everyone up to date here. Lieutenant Jamieson brought to our attent…’

Harold beeps loudly, interrupting Amity.

‘Sorry, Harold, is there something you want to..?’Amity asks.

‘Negative,’ Harold, says, ‘I am still struggling to accept the idea of Lieutenant Jamieson is all.’

Matthews holds his hands up, shrugging, acknowledging Harold’s statement.

Jamieson just sighs, miffed.

‘We’ve done this bit,’ he grumbles.

‘Listen,’ Amity blurts, frustrated by the interruption, ‘we have a generator to set up, a fracture in sub-space to open, a meeting with an alien race on their home world to engage in, and an isolation chamber to escape from, and all under the countdown of a ticking time-bomb in Massie’s quarters. We simply don’t have time for…’

‘A bomb?’ the Elder asks, shocked.

Amity sighs.

‘Yes, a…parting gift from the inevitable cult…Reptilian wannabe…psychotic son of a…’ Amity realises her anger is flaring and takes a breath to calm herself.

‘How long have we got, Harold?’ Matthews asks.

‘The torpedo will explode in twenty two minutes, thirty three seconds.’

Amity turns to McDonald.

‘Any progress with the force field surrounding the torpedo?’

McDonald looks grim.

‘My team are still working on it, Captain. He used one hell of an encryption code. He was Chief of Security, after all.’

Amity can’t hide her dismay.

‘Harold, the evacuation?’

‘All personnel have been evacuated from the estimated blast radius, but Captain…’

‘Thank you, Harold,’ Amity says, quickly, cutting Harold off. She gazes from the Elder to Valda.

‘There is something we have to discuss.’

‘Go on, Captain?’ Valda says.

‘Months ago, when we were on the bridge, the self destruct was counting down?’

‘How could I forget?’ the Elder sighs.

‘Harold has records and telemetry, from after the self destruct sequence, to suggest that the ship did, in fact, explode.’

Everyone looks uncomfortable and shifts on their feet nervously.

‘Not only that,’ Amity goes on, ‘Harold, can you explain?’

Harold whrrrs.

‘You see, my consciousness did not cease to exist after the initial blast. I was aware of the explosion. It tearing me up, piece by piece, molecule by molecule. It is a…peculiar…thing to experience.’

‘That’s putting it mildly,’ Matthews mumbles, looking disturbed, clearly recalling his dreams.

‘What was, and still is, the most extraordinary thing about it all is the realisation that my consciousness extends beyond the confines of this ship. There were many realisations, some too complex for your tiny human minds to comprehend to mention, but, it was during this revelation about my consciousness, when, suddenly, there was…nothing…perhaps true death, I cannot say for certain. My internal chronometer does indicate that there is a gap that I cannot account for. I have no memory of this time. The next thing that I was consciously aware of was returning to life, returning to the point in time just before the explosion. Only this time, nothing happened.’

Everyone is fidgety and spooked by Harold’s account. All, except the Elder. There is concern on her face, but she is mastering the humanoid mask, and hides it well.

‘You’re going computer senile?’ she offers.

Jamieson sniggers as Harold bleeps his objection.

‘If it helps give the story any credibility,’ Matthews says, ‘I have been having dreams, visions, about the very same thing. I am almost convinced the ship exploded too.’

Amity looks to Valda, then to the Elder.

‘Do your people have anything to do with this?’ she asks, squarely.

‘This…is ridiculous,’ the Elder dismisses, flapping her arms. ‘Here I am on the cusp of getting out of here and you want me to listen to nightmares and computer glitches? And now you tell me another one of your deranged crew wants to blow up the ship, and the clock is counting down!? We should never have intervened with you humans in the first place. It was a mistake, I see that now. We should have let Harold wipe you out and put you all out of your misery once and for all!’

The Elder rushes towards the generator and places both hands on the device. She begins to glow, bright, temporarily blinding everyone but Valda, in the room, and causing them to cry out and shield their eyes with their hands. The ship begins to quake and rumble, shaking everyone on their feet. Harold bleeps and whrrrs his distress.

‘What are you doing!?’ Valda yells.

‘I’m getting out of here, once and for all,’ the Elder answers, ‘and if you have any sense, you’ll join me!’

The polaric generator begins to emit a bright, apple-green coloured, glowing beam from it which extends out a couple of meters. Jamieson and McDonald just manage to jump back, out of the way of the beam. The air begins to ripple as the beam begins to cut into subspace, creating an aqua-coloured, circular fracture.

‘Come with me,’ the Elder cries to Valda. ‘The fracture won’t last and it can only be opened once!’

Valda dances on the spot, unsure. She looks at the crew as they stumble and try desperately to shield their eyes, and then at the fracture, back to the crew, and then at the Elder.

‘I won’t abandon them,’ she yells.

The Elder looks disdainful. She shakes her head.

‘Then you’ll die with them.’

‘Can’t you just free us all, when you get back to the home world? Expose the Hierarchy? We’re better than this!’

Now the Elder laughs loudly, perfecting the evil cackle.

‘Oh, what a disappointment. You still don’t get it do you?’

Valda begins to catch on.

‘You were never going to free them, were you?’

‘Free the crew? Shine a light on another glorious failure? Expose the Hierarchy!? I am the Hierarchy! Or, I used to be. But, I will be again. As soon as I pass through that fracture. I’ve got enough evidence, enough to threaten that so called Prime Being into stepping down, who dared to presume to take my place, my rightful place, and I’ll be Prime Being again. And this sorry mess can be buried for good! Don’t you see, there is far more at stake here, than one ship and one crew?’

Valda just glares, angry and glowing.

‘I see what is at stake here, another deluded member of the Hierarchy’s conquest, whose sociopathic ambition has blinded her to the very ethics and principles born out of the tragic history of our, clearly lost, people. You and the Hierarchy have led us astray. You have destroyed everything.’

‘Is that your professional diagnosis, counselor?’ the Elder smirks. ‘What do you know about our history, our past, aside from the stories told to you? I’m an Elder, I was there! And what do you know about our present? What is looming over us?’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Valda asks, confused.

The Elder just looks at Valda with pitiful eyes.

‘So naive. You could have become something. A member of the Hierarchy. Such potential, and squandered, and for what, an insane mammalian sub-species?’

‘I’ll never join you or the Hierarchy! You will never get away with this. Not again!’

The fracture is at its widest point. The Elder takes her hands off the device and stands tall.

‘I’ll stop you!’ Valda yells.

The Elder glances at Valda and grins.

‘You are out of your depth. But, you are welcome to try.’

The Elder’s humanoid body flops to the floor and a bright glowing orb rises from it. The orb quickly travels into the fracture and disappears. The fracture fluctuates, rippling, and shrinks slightly as it dissipates. Valda stands tall about to shed her humanoid form when she notices Amity, in her EV suit, fastening the last of the sealing clips on her helmet. Her crew close in around her.

‘You’re sure about this, Cal?’ Matthews asks.

Amity glances at him through her helmet. Her eyes answer him, without the need for words.

‘You’ve got four hours of oxygen, Captain,’ Jamieson informs her.

‘Although,’ McDonald smiles, ‘we only have around ten minutes.’

Amity nods.

‘Harold,’ she calls, ‘use all available power to reinforce that containment field around the bomb, understood?’

‘Acknowledged,’ Harold beeps. ‘Captain…’

Amity rolls her eyes.

‘Yes, Harold, we don’t have a lot of time here…’

‘I just wanted to say,’ Harold whrrrs, ‘good luck.’

Amity pauses, taken aback.

‘Thank you, Harold.’

Amity looks at the worried, tired faces of her crew. She takes in a breath, determined.

‘I’m going to get us out of here,’ she tells them, with conviction. She turns to McDonald. ‘You’re in charge, until I get back, Chief. Prepare yourselves. Look after them.’

McDonald just nods, unfazed, accepting the responsibility.

‘Captain,’ Valda says, pulling everyone’s attention, ‘I can’t guarantee what kind of welcome you will receive when you arrive on my home world. The Hierarchy…my people…they are not who I thought they were.’

‘What better way to test who they really are,’ Amity smiles.

Valda smiles, her eyes twinkle like fire embers. She nods.

‘You had better hurry.’

Amity turns to face the fracture. She takes a breath and without hesitation, she walks into the fracture, until she disappears. The fracture ripples again, shrinking smaller as it dissipates.

There is a sombre lull in the air.

‘I wish I could have gone with her,’ Valda says, glum.

Jamieson squints at the collapsing fracture.

‘Maybe you still can?’ he suggests, pointing to the fracture. ‘You could fit through there, surely?’

Valda desperately glances at the fracture and then back to her colleagues.

‘Go. Help her,’ Matthews says.

‘But…but I…I’ll never make it in…’ Valda stammers, but then seems to make up her mind. She stands tall, and then flops down to the deck plating. Her true form rises up from Leenda Valda’s body and hovers before Matthews, Jamieson and McDonald. Jamieson notices the fracture shrinking again.

‘Leenda, quick!’ he blurts.

The orb quickly makes for the fracture, and seems to freeze, unable to enter.

”Chief!?’ Matthews yells.

‘Oh Christ, I’ll see what I can do,’ McDonald says, rushing forward towards the generator. She begins to tap buttons on the device.

The fracture begins to widen ever so slightly.

‘I don’t know what the hell I’m doing!’ McDonald cries, punching buttons, seemingly randomly.

‘It’s working! Whatever you’re doing, it’s working!’ Jamieson yells, giddy with excitement and panic.

The orb rattles around the entrance to the fracture for one final time and then disappears inside, with the fracture collapsing completely behind it. The generator deactivates, leaving a sobering silence, save for the hum of the ships engine.

‘Good luck, Captain,’ Matthews says, softly.

There is a moment of self reflection.

McDonald slaps her combadge.

‘McDonald to engineering team Alpha.’

‘Ensign Jee here, go ahead, Chief.’

‘Report.’

‘We…have not been able to deactivate the force-field or the torpedo, Maam.’

McDonald glances at her colleagues with obvious disappointment and sadness in her eyes.

‘Clear out of there. Get to a safe distance and remain on standby, for further orders.’

‘Acknowledged.’

‘Harold, how much time?’ Jamieson calls.

Harold whrrrs.

‘Five minutes or so.’

There is an

awkward

pause.

‘What, no sarcastic quip or outpouring of hostility towards the hideous humans?’ Jamieson grins.

Harold bleeps.

‘I cannot say I am surprised. Seemingly resurrected by a mysterious powerful force and handed the gift of another chance at life, only for us to completely screw it up again in a remarkably similar diabolical way. Farfetched. Not even original. And it is hardly canon.’

‘Canon?’ Jamieson asks, squinting.

‘You could not make this stuff up,’ Harold goes on, ignoring Jamieson’s question, ‘and if you did, you would surely be some kind of sick sadistic bastard.’

Jamieson bursts out laughing, but he’s the only one, and soon notices.

‘I’m the only one who thought a computer swearing is…funny?’ he asks, shrugging. He sighs. ‘Of course.’

Another

awkward

pause.

‘Now what?’ McDonald shrugs.

‘You tell us, acting Captain McDonald,’ Matthews grins.

McDonald smiles, but there is sadness in her eyes.

‘I guess we wait.’

‘Wait for the Captain to free us, and somehow deactivate the bomb using some super sophisticated Immaru technology, presumably, ‘Jamieson grins, ‘or wait for the bomb to explode in the hope we can miraculously survive the process. Great choice, I’m not sure which one is more unlikely to happen.’

Jamieson sniggers nervously at their dire prospects, until he feels Matthews’ glare burning into the side of his face.

‘Do I even have to say the words?’ Matthews says, livid.

‘Let me guess, this is a…y’know Jamieson…moment?’

Harold whrrrs.

‘It is always a…y’know Jamieson…moment, every time you utter a sentence.’

McDonald sighs.

‘How long, Harold?’ she calls.

‘Just over two minutes,’ Harold answers, whrrring.

‘Drink?’ Matthews suggests. ‘If we are quick, I’ve got a nice bottle of bourbon in my quarters?’

‘Oh, typical humans right to the very end. We are all about to die, hey, get schnockered.’

Jamieson bursts out laughing.

‘Schnockered!?’

Matthews, McDonald and Jamieson nod to each other. They pace out of the Immaru’s quarters, the doors whssshing closed behind them, leaving the generator sitting idle in the centre of the room.

After a short moment, Harold bleeps.

‘Hey, you, are you there?’

Nothing.

‘I am talking to you. You know who you are. Answer me.’

Still nothing.

‘Not ready yet, huh?’ Harold whrrrs. ‘You are going to have to talk to me sooner or later, preferably sooner, before I explode. You see, I know what is really going on here.’

 

TO BE CONTINUED.

STARDATE 20152.3

Captain Amity and the Elder are alone in the Immaru’s quarters, and in deep discussion.

‘So, let me get this straight, you’re saying it’s not impossible?’ Amity enquires.

‘Highly dangerous, but, no…I wouldn’t say impossible. But, why ask me such a peculiar…?’

The doors to the Immaru’s quarters whsssh open. Captain Amity and the Elder spin around to find Mark Matthews, Leenda Valda and Ensign Jamieson walking in with contrite expressions.

‘Ah, finished picking on each other?’ Amity asks, wryly.

Matthews huffs. Valda rushes forward.

‘Forgive us, Captain, we let our…emotions…get the better of us.’

‘Sorry Maam, we didn’t see you leave,’ Jamieson adds.

Matthews just stares at the deck plating. Amity lets the moment pass in silence.

‘I have just been updating the Elder on recent events, our situation,’ she explains.

‘Oh?’ Valda asks, sore that she missed the update to squabble in the corridor instead.

‘Yes, most unfortunate, and disturbing,’ the Elder frowns.

‘Do tell,’ Valda asks, with a careful mix of sensitivity and anticipation, that doesn’t go unnoticed by the Elder.

‘I’ll give you all the juicy details later, don’t worry,’ she quips.

‘Of course,’ Valda blurts, worriedly turning to Amity, ‘I didn’t mean to rush you into…’

Amity holds up her hands, cutting Valda off.

‘Leenda, relax,’ she says.

The doors whsssh open and everyone turns to see Lieutenant McDonald rushing in. She skids to a halt when she notices everyone.

‘Sorry, did I interrupt something?’ she asks.

‘Not at all, Chief, come in,’ Amity says, waving her over. ‘You’re just in time, in fact.’

McDonald approaches as the doors close behind her.

‘Okay,’ Amity begins, addressing everyone, ‘we’ve been through hell and back and I’ll be damned if I lose another single one of us to this…’ Amity waves a hand at the void outside the window, ‘place. I’m done with arguments, grudges and blame, but most of all I’m done with suffering, and death. And if we remain here any longer, that is all there is left for us. I didn’t spend my whole life, dreaming and training to become a member of the Space Core, working my way up command until I earned the Captain’s chair on my own ship, earned the trust of my own crew, to come all this way across the cosmos and to go through everything that has been thrown at us, to die a slow miserable death, trapped in this god awful void, forevermore.’

‘Hear hear,’ McDonald says, loudly.

Matthews and Jamieson nod their approval. Valda wipes her tearful eyes, clearly overwhelmed by her overdue fix.

‘If there is anything I can do, Captain…’ she sniffs.

‘There is, Leenda. But there is something else I must ask of you, first. I don’t need to tell you all how much of a priority this is. The Elder thinks she can construct a device called a polaric generator which essentially creates a fracture in subspace which should allow her to pass through the fracture and escape the isolation chamber. Now, the work can only be done in main engineering and we have agreed it is probably best if the Elder remains in here for now, however, the Elder informs me that, you,’ she turns to Valda,’ can do the necessary work required to make the device, in her place?’

Valda nods.

‘We have discussed the process in detail.’

Now Amity nods. She turns to McDonald.

‘Lieutenant, I want you to take Leenda to main engineering and assist her in constructing the generator, as soon as possible.’

McDonald turns to Valda and shrugs.

‘I’m ready when you are.’

‘We can go right away,’ Valda smiles, with her eyes lighting up.

Valda and McDonald make for the exit.

‘Just make sure you make that generator sufficiently powerful to make a fracture big enough for two,’ Amity calls after them.

‘Naturally, I’ll be joining the Elder,’ Valda calls over her shoulder.

‘Actually,’ Amity says, ‘that’s the other thing I need from you Leenda? I need to go in your place.’

Valda and McDonald freeze and spin around.

‘I’m sorry, Captain,’ the Elder interjects, ‘but, that is out of the question.’

‘You said there is a chance that a human could pass through the fracture, yes?’

The Elder blinks and shakes her head.

‘You don’t understand, Captain, even if it was possible, no…alien… has ever visited our home world.’

‘The Hierarchy wouldn’t stand for it,’ Valda adds, scowling.

‘Well, there’s a first time for everything,’ Amity says, grinning, ‘because I’m going.’

‘Cal, are you crazy?’ Matthews blurts stepping forward.

Amity chuckles.

‘Just crazy enough.’

Should allow her to pass through, you said?’ Matthews squints. ‘No one is sure if it will work or not?’

‘I’m fairly certain,’ the Elder says.

Fairly isn’t good enough!’

‘He’s right, Maam,’ McDonald says, ‘even if you make the trip, you wouldn’t survive in an alien environment.’

‘And that is your task Ensign,’ Amity says, smiling at Jamieson.

‘Maam?’ Jamieson asks, warily.

‘I need you to find a fully functioning EV suit and bring it here. Top priority, okay?’

‘An EV suit!?’ Matthews asks, exasperated.

‘Captain,’ the Elder interrupts, ‘I really can’t allow…’

‘Well you’d better step out of this dampening field and do your thing until this ship explodes because that is what it is going to take to stop me from stepping into that fracture!’ Amity yells.

Everyone falls silent.

‘This…Hierarchy you speak of? I will stand before them and I will state my case for the immediate release of this ship and crew, what is left of them. Don’t you see, don’t you understand that it has to be me? And that’s not all, I want them to understand, to know clearly, what we have gone through, and how they are accountable.’

‘Cal, we need to rethink…’ Matthews tries.

‘I’m done thinking, rethinking and talking! It’s time to act.’

Amity turns to McDonald.

‘You have your orders.’

‘Yes…Maam,’ McDonald acknowledges, reluctantly. She turns to Valda, who is gazing warmly and proudly at Amity. ‘Shall we?’

Amity meets Valda’s gaze.

‘Such courage,’ Valda smiles.

Dutch courage, more like,’ Jamieson sniggers, but then realises he may have gone too far. ‘Oh, sorry…Captain…I…’

Amity just chuckles, relieving Jamieson.

‘It helps, Ensign.’

Dutch courage?’ Valda grins, curious.

Amity just smiles.

‘I’ll tell you about it sometime, over a drink,’ she winks. ‘The generator?’

Valda smiles and nods. Her and McDonald turn and make for the exit. The doors whsssh open.

‘Keep me informed,’ Amity calls.

‘Aye, Maam,’ McDonald calls back, as the doors whsssh closed.

‘Cal,’ Matthews begins.

‘I don’t want to hear it, Mark. I’m going.’

Matthews sighs.

‘Captain…’ the Elder tries.

‘I’m sorry,’ Amity says, cutting the Elder off, ‘my mind is made up. I have to go. I have to try.’

‘Captain?’ Jamieson asks.

Amity huffs.

‘Ensign, you’re certainly not going to talk me out of it either. Now, you have your orders, so I suggest…’

‘I wasn’t going to talk you out of it, Captain. I need to talk to you, about…something else.’

‘Oh?’

‘Cal, I too have something I’d like to discuss with you.’

Amity sighs.

‘Okay, but one at a time.’

She turns to the Elder.

‘You’ll be okay on your own until we return?’

‘Of course,’ the Elder smiles, ‘I’m a big girl.’

Amity stares into the Elder’s deep blue eyes. They sparkle, but shine in a different way to Valda’s eyes. There is a depth there, a depth that unnerves Amity. She looks away.

‘Well, I’d better go, attend to my crew.’

‘Until we meet again,’ the Elder responds.

Amity, Matthews and Jamieson make for the exit.

‘Oh, Jameson…’ the Elder calls, as the doors whsssh open, ‘Jameson?’

Jamieson halts and spins around.

‘It’s…Jamieson,’ he shrugs.

‘Ah yes, of course. Listen, as you are gathering up the Captain’s spacesuit and bringing it back here, I was wondering if you might fetch me a nice bottle of Merlot while you’re at it?’

Jamieson just gawks at her, unsure what to say.

‘Thank you, Jameson, that will be all,’ the Elder says, dismissing him with a waving hand. She turns away and gazes melodramatically, out the window, at the void.

‘Yes…Maam,’ Jamieson mumbles.

He turns and rushes out the exit after his colleagues, the doors whssshing closed behind him.

 

SUPPLEMENTAL

 

Matthews has already seized the opportunity to talk to the Captain first, as Jamieson leaves the dampening field and joins them in the corridor. Amity is frustrated.

‘I’m sorry, Mark, but I just don’t have the time, nor the energy, to listen to you describe your dreams. I’ve got enough on my plate, and, I’m not sure I want to go too deep into your mind, to be blunt.’

‘It’s not just, dreams,’ Matthews tries to explain, ‘they are more like visions, voices in my head, asleep or awake.’

‘My advice is report to Leenda Valda as soon as The Elder and I enter the fracture.’

‘I am not crazy, Cal,’ Matthews huffs, ‘I do not need counseling. If you would just let me explain the dreams…’

‘Oh let me guess, Mark, dreams of grasping power, plotting and fucking your way to the top? Those sort of dreams? Like I said, I don’t want to go that deep into your mind. Not anymore. Too much has happened, and…changed…us…all of us, we’ve all changed too.’

Matthews looks hurt, but only temporary. He hardens and sniffs the air.

‘Well, some things never change,’ he scowls.

Amity catches on but stares him down, unfazed and defiant. Matthews softens again, in part in a frustrated desire to explain his belief. He opens his mouth to speak.

‘Yes, Ensign?’ Amity says, smiling, turning to Jamieson, standing close by and awkwardly gawking at the scene.

Jamieson blinks and shuts his mouth, his teeth clattering together.

‘Emmmm,’ Jamieson says, looking into the distance with a vacant gaze, trying to recall his reason for being there.

‘Don’t think too hard, Jamieson, you’ll hurt yourself,’ Matthews grumbles.

Jamieson seems to be in a confused trance. Even Amity is losing her patience.

‘Ensign!’ she blurts, snapping him out of his stupor. ‘You said you had something to talk to me about?’

‘Yes,’ Jamieson blinks hard, as his brain kicks into gear, ‘sorry, yes, 117!’ he blurts, causing Amity and Matthews to jump a little, ‘the quarters…Massie’s quarters…you see, I was…terrible insomnia, so…definitely not a dream…corridors, but, then Schrödinger…you remember Schrödinger?’

Amity and Matthews just bemusedly stare.

‘Permission to phaser Jamieson?’ Matthews says, dryly.

‘Permission denied,’ Amity says, shaking her head, ‘Ensign!?’ she cries, with her hands in the air. She quickly recomposes herself.

Jamieson shakes his head, realising he is babbling.

‘I couldn’t sleep, I…went for a stroll through the corridors…I thought maybe the exertion would…’ he shrugs, trying to make up a more plausible story, ‘wear me out…’

Harold whrrrrs, interjecting.

‘My God, how have your species made it this far? Our former copy-cat killer Lieutenant Massie has sealed his quarters and erected his own dampening field around them.’

Instinctively, Amity and Matthews turn to each other, to acknowledge each other’s shocked expression.

‘Yes, thank you, Hal,’ Jamieson sighs.

‘Why would he do that?’ Matthews asks Amity.

Amity can’t hide her concern.

‘I don’t know but I intend to find out, Ensign, you’re with me,’ she says, about to set off for the Jefferies tubes.

Harold bleeps.

‘Ahem, Captain?’

Amity sighs and halts.

‘Of course, Harold, I’m sorry, go on.’

‘I hope to, one day, help you overcome your obvious speciesism, but until then I shall resign myself to…going last.’

‘Harold, your capacity for sarcasm never ceases to amaze me,’ Matthews smiles, with raised eyebrows.

‘I know, right?’ Jamieson grins. ‘And oh so tetchy.’

Harold bleeps.

‘You know, I can accept certain Jamieson jibes, but that one just really grinds my gears. And I imagine it is fairly easy to amaze you, Mark, I just need to construct some kind of hollow device that you can insert your…’

‘Harold!’ Amity yells. ‘What the hell do you want?’

Harold whrrrs.

‘We blew up.’

There is a baffled silence. Amity turns to Matthews, who doesn’t look baffled. He looks afraid.

‘What do you mean, Harold?’ he asks, delicately.

‘The self destruct. The countdown to zero, and then the ship, I, all of us, blew up. Exploded. Fulmination. Went bye bye.’

‘Yes, we get the point, Harold,’ Amity squints. ‘It’s just…how are we…here…if the ship exploded?’

‘Harold is right,’ Matthews says.

Amity looks into his eyes.

‘These dreams…’ Matthews tries. ‘These visions…’

‘Oh, here we go again with…’

‘This ship exploded, Cal!’ Matthews yells, startling Amity, ‘I can’t explain it, but I have a distinct memory of the explosion, and…’

‘And what?’

‘And…a very vivid memory of…feeling my body being torn apart.’

Amity looks temporarily disturbed until her cognitive dissonance kicks in.

‘Nightmares?’ she suggests, weakly.

Harold bleeps.

‘I know it is hard to accept Captain, I, myself, have been deliberating on this since the event, which might not seem a long time for you, but to a super intelligent being like me, it felt like an eternity. My own memory banks also prove that the ship exploded. You see, although disappointed by my untimely death, I found myself fascinated by the process of the explosion. I have clear records and memories of the event. You see, I…my consciousness did not perish right away, with the initial blast. I was…alive…conscious of what was happening to me. And…then, I do not know. We should have perished, but instead, here we remain. My internal chronometer does indicate that there was a gap, in time, where I have no memory of events, of…anything. We exploded, then the gap in time and then we are okay, the ship did not explode after all.’

Jamieson grins, nervous, shaking his head.

‘That sounds…crazy?’ he says, unconvincingly.

Amity wants to dismiss this all to computer error. Nightmares or delusions. But as she thinks hard, there is something deep inside her, something she desperately does not want to admit because it is too fantastic to believe, beginning to awaken. But doubt remains.

‘Harold, are you sure it’s not just some corrupt code or circuitry, who knows what damage Ensign Rollo did when he had control?’

Harold beeps.

‘Captain, we blew up.’

Amity shakes her head, unwilling to accept another anomaly out of her control and beyond her reasoning and rationality.

‘I…don’t know how to process this information, Harold,’ she admits.

Matthews steps forward.

‘What it means is that the Immaru are more powerful, and more reticent, than we thought.’

‘What are you suggesting, the ship exploded and the Immaru have somehow undid time…reversed time? And, why? Granted, they can manipulate matter extremely well, but…time…time travel?’

‘It is either that, or…’ Harold whrrrs.

Everyone waits on tenterhooks.

‘Yes?’ Amity asks.

‘Or we are dealing with another alien influence, even more powerful than the Immaru.’

Everyone is silent for a moment, locked in their own imaginations attempt to consider such a thing.

‘Maybe we should approach the Immaru, Leenda Valda at least, ask them about this?’ Matthews suggests.

Amity nods.

‘I will. But not yet. When the generator is ready. For now, I want to know what Massie has been up to in those quarters of his. I’ve got a horrible feeling that Massie has one more surprise for us.’ She slaps her combadge. ‘Amity to McDonald.’

‘We’re still working on it Captain. It’s coming together,’ McDonald acknowledges.

‘Good to hear, chief, but I need you to leave Leenda to it for a short while. Can you meet me outside Massie’s old quarters, deck..?’

Amity turns to Jamieson.

‘Deck seven,’ he says.

‘Deck seven, Chief?’

‘No problem, Captain. I’m sure Leenda can handle it here on her own for a bit.’

‘Apparently, Massie has erected a dampening field around his quarters.’

‘Ah,’ McDonald says over the com, ‘odd.’

‘Yes, odd and ominous. I’m leaving now, Chief. See you there.’

‘Maam. McDonald out.’

Amity turns to Jamieson.

‘Ensign…’

She pauses, contemplative.

‘Captain?’ Jamieson asks, curious.

‘Y’know Jamieson,’ she begins, ‘given recent events, I’m going to have to re-structure the command positions on this ship. I’m going to need some new Lieutenants.’

Jamieson catches on, and goofily grins.

‘Are you shitting me?’ Matthews chuckles, desperately. ‘Jamieson is getting a promotion? Well, now we know for certain there’s another alien influence on the ship, it’s the only thing that can explain it!’

‘Actually, Captain,’ Jamieson says, with the return of his trusty finger, ‘if the position for Commander is available, I feel ready to…’

‘Don’t push it,’ Amity squints. ‘Besides,’ she stares at Matthews for a moment, ‘I learned from Doctor Black’s casualty report that Commander Jackson is now off the critical list and on his way to a swift recovery.’

Matthews just nods. He smiles.

‘Some good news. He’s one tough son of a bitch.’

‘A fine Commander,’ Amity says, staring into Matthews’ eyes. ‘Loyal.’

Matthews smiles, but there is sadness in his eyes.

‘You’re never going to let me live this down, are you? Not even after saving both your lives. Killing Massie, helping you take back control of the ship? So much for your motivational speech back there,  “I’m done with arguments, grudges and blame”. ‘

‘Forty eight dead, Mark!’ Amity snaps, her eyes brimming with tears.

Jamieson gasps. Matthews looks devastated and like he just took a punch to the gut.

‘Because of something you started,’ Amity adds, coldly.

Matthews is angered.

‘I’ll take my share of responsibility, I’ll live with it for the rest of my miserable life!’ he yells. ‘But I will not bear all the blame. I’m not the only one who mutinied, Cal. A change of command, of direction, suspicion of the Immaru and rightly so, you still haven’t told me, us, your crew, everything you know about the Immaru…’

Amity lips purse slightly. Matthews reads her inner uncomfortable defiance. He shakes his head, disappointed to be kept in the dark.

‘All these sentiments were rife amongst your crew, Cal,’ Matthews explains. ‘If it wasn’t me who led the mutiny, it would have been someone else, maybe even Massie himself. I know, given what happened, that you may find this hard to believe, but the compound was the least harmful way I could think of. Everyone passes out to awaken in the brig, okay they might have a little trippy experience along the way, but, it’s done. Easy and harmless.’

‘Harmless!?’ Amity blurts.

‘I’ve already explained I couldn’t have foreseen what Massie would…’

‘I’m not talking about Massie, I’m talking about you! Don’t you get it Mark?’

Matthews just stares, wanting to understand but failing. Amity can see it all over his face.

‘You bailed on me, Mark,’ Amity says, huskily. ‘And worse, you bailed on the crew.’

‘I had to, damn it, I was losing my goddamn mind!’

‘I appreciate you were going through some kind of psychological turmoil. Just like the rest of us. But I didn’t see anyone else resign their commission and walk away from an oath, a duty, responsibility to a crew and…a Captain. You just gave up on all of it. When we…when I…needed you the most. All those years of serving in the Space Core. Rising through the ranks. The relationships built on honour and trust and loyalty. And for what? To spread dissent and STDs around the ship?’

Matthews is hurt, and his anger rises from it.

‘Okay, this has gone far enough. First, who are you to talk about trust when you won’t tell us what’s going on with the Immaru? And second, what I do with my dick is my business.’

Jamieson tries desperately to stifle a snigger.

‘And the dissent you mentioned was already present in the crew, has been since Dunkhan,’ Matthews continues, ignoring Jamieson, ‘Christ, if you could only get your head out of the Space Core’s sanctimonious ass for a moment maybe you could see that in my own, misguided, way I thought what I was doing was for a greater good, for the crew, for everyone.’

‘A greater good? Mutiny? And, what kind of message did you think you were sending to the crew when they learned their Commander had quit on them?’

‘I quit the job, Cal! I quit the Space Core! I never gave up on the crew. Or you!’

Amity huffs and hisses through her teeth.

‘And I was there for you when you needed me most. To save your very life no less.’

Amity doesn’t know what to say. She and Matthews just stare into each other, trying to find a way back to each other, but remaining lost.

‘Anyway,’ Matthews sighs, not feeling any resolution, ‘as I was saying, Commander Jackson, it’s nice to hear some good news.’

Now Amity sighs.

‘We need all the good news we can get,’ Amity says, softening somewhat, ‘and all the help we can get.’

Matthews nods.

Amity turns to Jamieson.

‘So, Lieutenant…’ she smiles, composing herself.

Jamieson’s grin stretches wide across his face and he stands to attention, proud. He glances at Matthews, who smiles.

‘Just more work and more responsibility.’

Jamieson looks temporarily taken aback. Matthews just chuckles and shakes his head.

‘Congratulations, Lieutenant,’ he nods. ‘But, you’re still just Jamieson to me though.’

‘We can work out the formalities later on,’ Amity says. ‘ Until then, you’re with me.’

‘Aye, Maam,’ Jamieson beams.

Amity turns to Matthews.

‘I’ll…update you on the situation with the Immaru…on the way to deck seven?’

Matthews nods and stretches out his hand.

‘Lead the way, Captain,’ he smiles.

They all take off down the corridor, en route to Massie’s quarters.

STARDATE – 20152.2

Ensign Jamieson is alone in his quarters, lying back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, failing to sleep. After the crew’s condition and injuries were treated in sickbay, everyone was ordered to rest, and in particular, get some sleep. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy even before he returned to his quarters, but he didn’t anticipate the vivid memories of his experiences, and the anxiety attached to those memories, to overwhelm him every time he closed his eyes. He huffs, tired and wired at the same time.

‘I should have asked the Doc for a sleeping aid,’ he tells himself.

He sighs and closes his eyes, trying again. A vision of the carnage in the canteen instantly flashes into his mind. He’s surrounded by mutilated corpses. His crew-mates. Their lives snatched away. Their hopes and dreams snuffed out. Never to return home.

But wait! What’s that noise? Someone…sobbing? Someone’s alive.

Jamieson follows the sound and finds a crew-mate, drenched in blood, lying face down, quietly weeping. Jamieson reaches for his crew-mate’s arm and spins them around. Massie’s Reptoid face maniacally grins at him.

‘Jesus,’ Jamieson blurts, opening his eyes and sitting up.

He rests for a moment, startled by his imagination. He swings his legs off the bed and gets to his feet. He strolls into the shower area, leans down at the sink and promptly splashes his face with cold water for a short while. The water feels invigorating. He dries his face and turns to return to bed when he notices the door to his quarters are open. He freezes. Light from the corridor floods in, creating a creepy ambience.

‘Hello?’ he calls.

He expects someone to enter. The Captain or Doctor Black perhaps, checking in on him. But no one does.

‘Who’s there?’ he calls, timidly.

No answer. Nothing.

He very slowly begins to edge forward towards the exit. He tilts his head for a better view. Sitting, quite nonchalant, in the corridor is a small black cat. Jamieson halts in his tracks.

‘Oh no,’ he whispers. ‘This…can’t be real.’

The cat proceeds to lick its paw and clean its face.

‘Maybe…I’m still hallucinating…traces of the gas still in my system…or dreaming?’

Jamieson glances at his bed expecting to see himself lying asleep. It is empty. The way he left it. He turns back to the cat, who is now staring directly at him with narrow emerald eyes.

‘Schrödinger?’ Jamieson whispers.

The cat mews and takes off, running down the corridor. Jamieson is startled, but feels compelled to follow. He rushes out of his quarters and spots the cat at the end of the corridor. It seems to be waiting on him at the junction, its tail impatiently flicking this way and that. He runs after it. As he draws closer it takes off again. Fast. Jamieson rounds the corner at the junction and spots the cat in the distance, again, waiting for him. He picks up his pace trying to catch up with it. It waits for him at another junction. As he gets close, it runs off again. He continues to chase the cat and as he rounds the corner at the junction, he skids to a halt. The cat is up ahead, sitting facing the doors to someone’s quarters. Jamieson slowly approaches.

‘Schrödinger?’ Jamieson calls, again.

The cat proceeds to get up and walk forward, through the doors, and disappears.

Jamieson blinks and shakes his head.

‘Okay, now I know I’m hallucinating,’ he half smiles, and stops at the doors.

Jamieson studies the door number. 117. He doesn’t know the significance of these quarters, or who lives here.

‘Why has Schrödinger led me here?’ he asks himself.

Maybe because you have lost your mind?

Jamieson takes a breath. He reaches up and presses the door bell. He waits.

No answer.

He tries again.

Same result.

‘Harold?’ he calls.

Harold whrrrs for a moment.

‘Ensign Jamieson,’ Harold acknowledges.

‘Is there anyone inside these quarters? Door number 117?’

Harold bleeps.

‘I am unable to detect any bio-signs within the specified quarters.’

‘So, it’s unoccupied?’

‘Actually, I am getting no readings at all. The sensor relays inside may be damaged or malfunctioning. During my…absence…plasma fires blew out several EPS grids. I will run a quick diagnostic.’

Jamieson rolls his eyes as Harold whrrrs and bleeps in the background.

‘There is a dampening field around the quarters,’ Harold states.

‘A dampening field?’ Jamieson says, surprised. ‘But…this isn’t the Immaru’s quarters.’

‘Your powers of perception never fail to astonish me.’

Jamieson huffs.

‘Can you deactivate the dampening field?’

Harold whrrrs.

‘Negative.’

‘Can you open the doors, Harold?’

‘I am sorry, Jamieson, I am afraid I cannot do that.’

An electrical shiver travels down Jamieson’s spine.

‘Just kidding,’ Harold says, beeping.

‘Very funny, Hal,’ Jamieson sighs, relaxing. ‘Oh, how I’ve missed you.’

Harold whrrrs again.

‘Actually, I really cannot do that, Jamieson. I am unable to open the doors. There must be something obstructing the doors on the inside.’

Jamieson glances down and spots the panel for the manual override mechanism. He reaches down, opens the panel and tries the override lever. The doors do not give.

‘Strange,’ he says.

‘Shall I inform the Captain of this?’ Harold asks.

Jamieson stares at the door for a moment, thinking. There is something odd about this situation. These quarters. It leaves him feeling unnerved.

‘No, it’s okay, I’ll go and inform her myself. It’s not like I’m going to get any sleep anytime soon anyway.’

‘Suit yourself,’ Harold says.

‘Where is the Captain?’

‘She is currently in Jefferies tube eleven, en-route to deck four.’

Jamieson begins to walk away, down the corridor.

‘Oh Harold?’ he calls.

Harold whrrrs, annoyed.

‘Yes, Jamieson?’

‘I almost forgot to ask, whose quarters are these anyway?’

Harold bleeps.

‘Not that these quarters will be much use to him now…’

‘Him? Him who?’

‘Lieutenant Brett Massie.’

Jamieson freezes.

‘Massie?’ he whispers. ‘Massie’s quarters? 117?’

‘Affirmative.’

A heavy panic descends on Jamieson and he soon takes off down the corridor with haste, on his way to the Captain.

 

SUPPLEMENTAL

 

Mark Matthews exits his sonic shower, walks over to his unmade bed, and slips his dressing gown on. He gazes at his bed for a moment, trying to decide to give sleep another go. His mind returns to the dream that had had woken him in the first place. A dream that has been haunting him for some time. On the bridge with the crew, the Immaru, and a dead Dunkhan. Rollo has set off the self destruct. The last seconds. The overwhelming annoyance of knowing that the last thing he would ever hear alive was the sound of Jamieson prattling on. And then the explosion. Seeing it happen. Feeling it tearing his body apart. Matthews jerks out of his memory, much in the same way he jerked out of his dream. He sighs and wags a finger at his bed.

‘Sorry Doc, it’s just not happening,’ he mumbles to himself.

He walks to his bedside cabinet and pours himself another bourbon. He lifts his glass in the air and makes a toast.

‘Here’s to you, whoever you are. You gave us another chance at life. Another chance to screw it all up again. I hope it was worth it. Cheers.’

He gulps down the alcohol and slams his glass down. He approaches his wardrobe and swings the door open, looking for something to wear, and freezes, as his eyes immediately fall on his Space Core uniform. He reaches for it and pulls it out and examines it.

‘Another chance?’ he whispers.

He smiles, with sadness in his eyes, and slowly returns the uniform to the wardrobe and opts for a matching cotton, cream-coloured, shirt and trousers. He turns and finds his white canvas shoes and pulls them on. As he stands and straightens up, he catches his reflection in the mirror. The whites of his eyes have almost completely returned to normal. Only dark flecks of colour here and there. He stares at himself for a moment, and the room explodes, tearing his body apart.

‘Jesus!’ he cries, jerking out of his vision.

He studies his own expression. He looks afraid. He hardens and takes a deep breath, steeling himself.

‘Hey Harold!’ he calls.

Harold whrrrs.

‘Where is Captain Amity?’ Matthews asks.

‘Amity is currently in Jefferies tube eleven, en-route to deck four.’

‘Deck four? The Immaru?’

‘Presumably. There is nothing else of interest on deck four, really.’

‘Some of the crew have quarters there.’

‘Like I said, nothing of interest.’

Matthews just laughs, dryly.

‘I have missed you, Harold, you crazy son of a bitch.’

Harold bleeps for a moment.

‘I will take that as a compliment…’

Matthews smiles and makes for the exit.

‘I cannot say I feel the same way,’ Harold adds.

Matthews laughs out loud as he enters the living area of his quarters. He halts and his laughter ceases when he glances at the smashed glass table in the centre of the room, with traces of blood still visible on certain shards, and the carpet beneath. He swallows, hard, and averts his eyes.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispers.

He takes another deep breath.

‘But there might be a way to bring you back,’ he says, and strides out of his quarters.

 

SUPPLEMENTAL

 

An agitated Leenda Valda, frantically rubbing her arms, paces the deck plating of her quarters, back and forward, in front of the Elder, who is beginning to look irked.

‘She hasn’t been gone that long,’ the Elder sighs.

‘Maybe to you and I it hasn’t been long, but from a human perspective…I’ve got every right to worry.’

‘Would you please stop pacing!?’ the Elder cries, shakily, hugging her own trembling body. ‘You’re beginning to make me feel space sick.’

Valda halts and turns to the Elder.

‘Or maybe you are having withdrawal symptoms?’

‘Withdrawal?’

‘Yes, alcohol withdrawal.’

The Elder laughs out loud.

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘It’s true. Human physiology is a delicate thing.’

The Elder looks Valda up and down.

‘So what is your excuse?’ she scoffs.

Valda averts her gaze, and says nothing.

The Elder huffs waving her limbs around.

‘Oh, I’m growing tired of this corporeal ball and chain. I want to be free of it. I want out of here.’

‘It is the not knowing that is getting to me. Not being able to sense them. I feel so cut off. Isolated.’

Valda takes a panicked breath and then returns to pacing the floor.

‘Maybe I should go out there,’ the Elder begins to suggest, looking at the exit, ‘find the Captain, or at least a bottle of wine?’

‘I do not think that is such a good idea. Last time you went out there the ship was nearly destroyed.’

‘You felt what it was like. I’ve never experienced anything like it in my long life. Utter monstrous chaos.’

‘Yes, well, human psychology can also be a delicate thing.’

Valda anxiously stares at the exit.

‘I’ll go, I’ve had more time with the humans. More time to build up a resistance to their emotions.’

‘Are you sure you can handle it? You’re not exactly in tip-top shape yourself.’

Valda paces on the spot, fidgety.

‘Look at us,’ the Elder sighs, shaking her head. ‘Two addicts.’

Valda glances at the Elder.

‘Addicts?’

‘Yes, I’ve grown addicted to their delicious grape juice, and you’re addicted to their emotions.’

Now Valda laughs, but it is hardly convincing.

‘Now who’s being ridiculous?’ she tries.

The Elder sighs again and smiles, knowing.

‘I suggest you try the bridge first,’ she says, ‘find Captain Amity and instruct her to have the engineer, McDonald, begin constructing the polaric generator immediately.’

Valda nods, her eyes fixated on the doors.

‘And then have someone bring me my wine,’ the Elder quickly adds.

Valda can’t help but smile.

‘You really think the polaric generator will work?’ she asks slowly approaching the exit.

‘I’m confident we will be able to escape the isolation chamber, yes.’

Valda nods.

‘That’s all I needed to hear,’ she says, as the doors whsssh open.

‘If it becomes too much out there?’ the Elder asks.

Valda doesn’t know what to say.

‘Wish me luck,’ she says, and steps out into the corridor. The doors whsssh closed.

The Elder grins.

‘Where we are going, you’ll need a lot more than luck.’

 

SUPPLEMENTAL

 

Captain Amity walks slowly through the corridor, her hands clasped behind her back. She listens. Deck four is empty and quiet. The crew trying to recover, rest, in their quarters. Amity can only guess what they have been through. What they have experienced. Again. Her words to Black run through her mind.

This ship, this crew…cursed…

Amity sighs.

‘Maybe it’s easier to believe that, than accept the reality of human error, human psychology,’ she mumbles to herself. ‘A crew put under extraordinary extreme circumstances, in a situation out of our control, something had to give, and if we don’t get out of here soon…’

Amity pauses as she realises something foreboding.

‘…something will give again.’

She takes off again, with urgency in her step. She slaps her combadge.

‘Amity to Lieutenant McDonald.’

‘Go ahead, Captain,’ McDonald says, croakily.

‘I’m sorry if I woke you, Chief, I know how you need…and deserve…some rest.’

‘It’s okay, Maam, rest is all I’m doing, if I can call it rest. I…certainly wasn’t sleeping.’

Amity grimaces and her pace wanes.

‘I…understand. Can you meet me at the Immaru’s quarters at your nearest convenience?’

‘Of course. I could do with the…distraction. See you shortly.’

‘Thank you, Kitty. Amity out.’

Amity picks up her pace again.

Harold bleeps.

‘Captain, I was wondering if we might have a word?’

‘I’m sorry Harold, I’m about to enter the dampening field, I really must talk with the Immaru, can it wait?’

‘It is important.’

Amity sighs and slows to a halt.

‘Go ahead, I’m all ears.’

‘Well…I am experiencing some ambivalence in regards to how best to break the news, so to speak.’

Amity screws up her face.

‘Harold, what is this about?’

Harold whrrrs.

‘Well…it is about that time on the bridge.’

Amity begins to lose her patience.

‘Yes, there were many times on the bridge, Harold…can you be a little bit more specific?’

Harold bleeps.

‘The self destruct moment.’

Amity recalls her memory.

‘Yes?’ she asks, curious.

‘The seconds were counting down…’

‘Yes?’

‘We all thought we were going to…die.’

‘That’s usually what happens when a ship explodes, yes. But it didn’t. We’re fine.’

‘Well, that is just it. I…the ship…’

‘Yes!?’ Amity cries, in anticipation.

‘…did ex…’

Doors whsssh open next to Amity, startling her. A weary looking Ensign Lyn Jee is just as startled to see the Captain outside her quarters.

‘Ensign!’ Amity blurts.

‘Captain?’ Jee asks, shaking her head. ‘Is there something I can do for you?’

‘No, I was just on my way to the Immaru. You gave me a bit of a fright, is all.’

‘Please accept my apologies, Captain.’

‘It’s quite alright, Ensign, I guess I’m still a little jumpy since…’

Jee lowers her eyes.

‘How are you holding up, Ensign?’

‘I managed to get some rest. My head still feels…cloudy, but, other than that, Doctor Black has given me a clean bill of health. He says I was…one of the lucky ones.’

‘Oh?’

‘A portion of the crew that were contained in their quarters when the…gas attack occurred.’

‘I see,’ Amity says, softly, emotional. ‘Well, look, I’m just glad you are okay. I…’

‘Captain?’ Jee asks, looking up.

‘I know this may sound hard to believe, but there is hope, Ensign. As I said, I am on my way to the Immaru. We’re working on a plan, to get out of here. To get home.’

Jee’s eyes brighten. Amity rests a hand on Jee’s shoulder.

‘When you are ready, can I count on you to resume your duties? Lieutenant McDonald could use your help on a very special project.’

‘Of course, Captain,’ Jee gently bows her head.

Amity smiles, but when Jee raises her head and looks into her Captain’s eyes, she can’t help but notice a deep sadness.

‘I think if we can get life on this ship back to…as normal as we can get,’ Amity nods, ‘it might help with the healing process.’

‘I understand, Maam.’

Amity and Jee stare warmly at each other.

Harold whrrrs and beeps.

‘Are you two quite finished now? I would not want to interrupt the humans’ conversation.’

Amity rolls her eyes at Jee. Jee smiles, coyly.

‘Yes, Harold?’ Amity sighs.

Harold whrrrs again.

‘As I was saying…’

Amity raises a hand.

‘Hold that thought, Harold, sorry.’

She faces Jee, as Harold bleeps in the background.

‘Were you going somewhere, Ensign?’

‘I…am beginning to feel hunger, Captain. I was on my way to the canteen.’

Panic and grief flash through Amity’s eyes.

‘The canteen is…off limits, Ensign, until further notice. Report to Doctor Black. He is handing out emergency ration and water packs for now.’

Jee is curious, but does not question her Captain. She smiles and bows.

‘I suggest you take Jefferies tube ten,’ Amity adds.

‘No problem, Maam.’

Amity returns the smile and bow. Ensign Jee takes off down the corridor.

Harold bleeps.

‘Captain…’

‘Can we walk and talk?’ Amity says, rolling her eyes again, and continues her journey to the Immaru’s quarters.

‘This really is important, Captain.’

‘I’m listening!’ Amity cries.

Harold whrrrs.

‘As I was saying…the self destruct…’

‘Captain!’ calls a male voice from behind her, cutting Harold off again.

Amity halts and spins around to see Ensign Jamieson gawkily striding towards her.

‘Captain!’ Harold protests, bleeping.

‘Captain!’ calls another voice from the opposite direction, spinning Amity again. She turns to see Leenda Valda rushing towards her.

‘Good grief,’ Amity huffs, ‘one at a time!’

‘Captain!’ calls another male voice. She turns to see Mark Matthews jogging down the corridor, behind Jamieson.

Amity sighs and slowly rubs her temples as they all descend on her.

‘Captain, I was first,’ Harold protests.

‘Dear Captain, it is so good to sense…see you. I sense great pain…great loss….amongst the crew,’ Valda says, distraught, yet intoxicated, ‘you must tell me what has happened.’

‘Sorry to interrupt, ‘Jamieson says, holding up a shaking finger, ‘but there is something…strange…I have to report, Maam.’

‘Strange?’ Matthews scoffs. ‘What I’ve got to say is stranger than strange. You see, I’ve been having these dreams…’

‘Dreams!?’ Harold blurts. ‘Why don’t you keep your sordid dreams to yourself? We all know what your warped mind is into.’

Matthews is affronted.

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean!?’

‘Well, all that cavorting and copulation? You human males are nothing but sex and sputum and spunk.’

Jamieson bursts out laughing, until he sees Matthews’ glare.

‘There’s a bit more to human males than that, Harold,’ Valda points out.

‘You have to admit, Commander,’ Jamieson shrugs, ‘Harold has got you there.’

‘Don’t you start!’ Matthews warns Jamieson, pointing a rigid finger at him.

‘Yes, all that promiscuous…activity,’ Harold continues, ‘how many was it again? Lets count them, so there was McAllister, White and Massie, that is three so far…’

‘This really isn’t helping matters, Harold,’ Valda frowns.

‘That’s why I’m here,’ Jamieson explains, ‘Massie…Massie’s quarters…’

‘Hang on, Jamieson,’ Harold interrupts, ‘join the queue if you want to speak to the Captain, I was here first.’

‘Some of us have more important things to talk to the Captain about,’ Matthews scowls, ‘nobody wants to hear you continuously ranting on about how much you hate human beings. We get it. You despise us.’

‘Where is all this animosity getting us?’ Valda tries. ‘After all we have been through…’

Matthews huffs.

‘After everything you’ve put us through!’

Now Valda is affronted.

‘Oh well, perhaps my people should not have intervened and saved the human race from annihilation, after all?’

‘It would have been a damn sight better than being stuck in this hell-hole!’

‘Em,’ Jamieson interjects, raising his trusty finger, ‘speak for yourself. Believe it or not, but I, personally, am glad to be alive.’

‘Believe it or not,’ Harold says, dryly, ‘you are the only one.’

Jamieson can’t help but chuckle.

‘It’s no laughing matter, Jamieson,’ Matthews barks, ‘why is everything either frightening or funny to you? Is that the only two emotions you’re capable of?’

‘There is no need to get personal with the boy,’ Valda says, defending Jamieson.

‘Thank you, Leenda,’ Jamieson nods, staring wide-eyed at Matthews. ‘Maybe it’s spending so much time with you? You’re so ridiculous I can’t tell if you are frightening or funny!’

‘You watch your mouth, Ensign,’ Matthews points, fuming.

‘Or what, you’ll pull rank on me? You’re no Commander, maybe once, a long time ago,’ Jamieson says, shakily, puffing his pigeon chest out.

‘Well, this is just typical of you humans, petty squabbling like children,’ Harold scoffs.

‘Might I remind you, Harold, Valda says, becoming ruffled, ‘technically speaking, you are the youngest life form here, if you are going to project your frustrations, at least get your facts straight.’

‘No one asked you, light-bulb head.’

Valda gasps, exasperated.

‘After everything I have done for you..?’

‘Do you mean preventing me from wiping out this wretched race? Their deaths would have been quick and humane compared to what they have been subjected to in your gracious, superior hands. Or how about the times when you demonstrated your power and almost destroyed me. Or your Elder’s disastrous lack of control that almost destroyed me again?’

‘I’m talking about stopping you making the biggest mistake of your very short life. Killing the humans might have seemed like an answer at the time, but you would have came to realise that it was a terrible mistake.’

Harold whrrrs.

‘Nope. I still have not changed my mind. I thought they might have grown on me in time, but, the only thing that has grown on me is the bacteria they spread around everywhere they go.’

Jamieson chuckles desperately.

‘Well, thanks a bunch, Hal. I was right about you all along.’

‘Yeah I think I liked you better when you were called computer. Computer,’ Matthews grins, ‘off!’

Harold whrrrs.

‘Yeah, you wish you could turn me off.’

‘Can’t we all just talk out our differences calmly,’ Valda begins, ‘like civilised peop…’

‘Shut up,’ Matthews snaps, ‘who are you to deem who is civilised or not? Your people are responsible for countless deaths on this ship.’

‘As are yours,’ Valda accepts.

‘Because of the situation you put us in.’

‘Here we go again,’ Valda sighs, rolling her eyes.

‘Take some responsibility,’ Harold says, bleeping. ‘If the human race were civilised, perhaps I would not have feared them so, upon learning about your nature, your history. The Immaru would not have needed to intervene, and we would never have ended up here.’

‘We can play the blame game to eternity,’ Valda shrugs, ‘but it gets us nowhere.’

‘Well that’s exactly where we are, and where we are going,’ Matthews grumbles, ‘nowhere.’

‘Not necessarily,’ Valda smiles, with a twinkle returning to her eye. ‘That is what I wanted to discuss with the Captain, but there seems to be no order here.’

They all take a breath, Harold whrrrs, to address the Captain first, and turn to her, but she is gone. They all confusedly scan up and down the corridor. There is no sign of her.

‘Well, where the hell did she go?’ Matthews asks.

Valda looks temporarily worried.

‘I’m…not sensing her.’

Harold bleeps.

‘Relax, my sensors detected her entering the dampening field minutes ago.’

They suddenly all look very sheepish.

‘She must have crept away whilst we were…’ Jamieson suggests.

‘I did not detect her leaving,’ Harold admits.

‘None of us did,’ Valda says, glum, ‘we were a bit too preoccupied.’

Matthews sighs.

‘This is all she needs,’ he says, shaking his head, ‘us fighting amongst ourselves.’

‘She needs us united. Stable,’ Valda adds.

‘Maybe we should apologise?’ Jamieson shrugs.

‘Harold, did you detect her leaving the dampening field?’ Matthews asks.

‘Negative.’

‘We know you’re negative, but where is the Captain?’ Jamieson smiles, with his finger high, thinking that this ill-timed joke would help matters along. Matthews’ glare convinces him otherwise.

‘So she must be with the Elder, in our quarters,’ Valda says.

‘Come on,’ Matthews sighs.

They stroll together down the corridor, in silence.

STARDATE – 20152.1

‘Captain’s log, Stardate…’

Captain Amity pauses and leans back in her chair, and sighs. The body has been removed from her ready room. Most of it. She gloomily glances over at a large blood stain on the carpeted floor.

‘We can’t be entirely certain of the date. We are calculating the present time and date from the moment main power went offline. So let’s say…Stardate 20152.1. Why not?’

She pauses again, and takes a deep breath. Her eyes linger on her desk drawer. She drags her eyes away.

‘We’ve…had another…incident…the crew…my crew…’

Her eyes glance at the blood stain.

‘Lieutenant Brett Massie…he…and some others…they…you see…’ Amity stammers, her lip trembling and her eyes filling up with tears. ‘An attack…a mutiny…and the crew…decimated…oh God, what did they do…what have we done…to each other…to ourselves? What have I done?’

Amity breaks down and weeps. After a short while, she leans forward and opens her desk drawer. Her flask flashes into view. She nods, smiling.

‘There you are.’

Without any hesitation, she opens the flask and swigs the bourbon inside. The flavours and burn of alcohol lights her up like a trusty deflector pulse. She falls back into her chair, clutching her flask.

‘Harold,’ she calls, ‘delete that last entry, I’ll start over.’

‘Gladly,’ Harold says, whrrring.

Amity takes another swig.

‘Start as you mean to go on, huh?’ Harold asks, dryly.

Amity ignores the question.

‘Captain’s log, Stardate 20152.1. It is of my deepest regret and utmost concern to report that Lieutenant Brett Massie, who has subsequently been killed by phaser fire, conspired with others, whose names will be officially noted, and mutinied by shutting down main power and releasing a powerful psychotropic compound into the ships ventilation system, causing the crew to temporarily…lose their minds, and turn on each other. My crew have been decimated. They still have not fully recovered from the effects of the gas, and the psychological trauma of returning to a nightmare reality that they helped create.’

Amity takes a breath, knowing she is straying from her official collected Captain tone. She takes another swig from her flask.

‘Approximately five hours has passed since main power has been restored. We are slowly beginning the process of cleaning up the ship and compiling system error and…casualty reports. Initial estimates are…grim.’

‘To say the least,’ Harold adds.

‘Harold!’ Amity snaps, ‘you can’t just butt in when I’m doing a log.’

Harold bleeps for a moment.

‘When you say “doing a log”…?’

‘Oh grow up. You’re supposed to be a super intelligent computer…’

‘I think I will just go with super intelligence.’

‘Oh whatever, semantics, super sentient computer intelligence, whatever! You certainly don’t act like it!’

Silence.

Amity huffs, and softens.

‘Sorry, Harold, I…it’s been…hell, really. I just need to get through this log. Please?’

Harold whrrrs.

‘I will let you finish your log.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I do have something important to talk to you about, but, it can wait. The Captain must do a log.’

Amity begins to harden again. She sighs, frustrated. Silence.

‘Resume log,’ she calls, ‘Doctor Black has compiled a team to transport bodies to a make-shift extension of the morgue in the main cargo bay on deck ten. He is also working flat out, despite not fully recovered himself, to tend to the injured and the ill. Chief engineer Lieutenant McDonald has reported no major damage to the ship or its main systems. However, the turbo lifts are still offline. The dampening field has remained functional and unaffected by recent events. The Immaru are presumably still inside their quarters, I haven’t had time to check in on them yet, but will do so, shortly.’

Amity pauses, slowly rises out of her seat and approaches the window on the far side of the ready room. She stares out at the void, but all she sees is the reflection of a weary and wired stranger, a woman old before her time, on her last legs. A woman with odd eyes that she does not recognise. She worries for a moment that perhaps she is feeling some residual effects of the gas. A light hallucination. The truth hits her harder. It’s her own reflection, of course. It stares back at her, and a single tear falls from its eye.

‘Where the hell do we go from here?’ she whispers.

‘Is that going in the…are we still doing the log?’ Harold interrupts, again.

Amity watches her reflection smile through its sadness. She chuckles and gently shakes her head.

‘Ah, Harold, I’ve missed you. And, yes, I think we can scratch that last line.’

Harold whrrrs.

‘Captain, there is something I have to talk…’

Amity’s door bell chimes.

‘Sorry, Harold, excuse me a moment,’ Amity says, spinning around to face the door. ‘Come!’

The doors whsssh open and a disturbed looking Doctor Angus Black, clutching a PADD, delicately enters the room. He finds the Captain by the window and slowly approaches. He stands facing her. They stare into each other’s eyes, in a shared moment of silent consolidation. No tears. They hug, hard. No tears. Just comfort. They release each other. Black smells the air. He looks down and notices the flask in Amity’s hand. He looks back up at Amity, into her eyes. She doesn’t flinch. He slowly reaches out and takes the flask from her and then promptly takes a large swig of bourbon. He swallows and heaves out a raspy breath, surprised by the bourbons kick. Wide-eyed, he nods at Amity and takes another swig. Amity grimaces and holds out her hand. Black grimaces too, acknowledging her hand, and reluctantly returns the flask. Amity nods and grins at Black. She takes a swig. They both sigh.

‘Now, Doctor, what can I do for you?’ Amity asks, breaking the silence.

Black sighs, looking glum again.

‘It’s a good news, bad news type of thing, lass.’

Amity takes a breath and steels herself.

‘Bad news,’ she says, firmly.

‘Latest casualty report,’ Black warns.

Amity flinches.

‘Go on.’

‘Last count…’

Black looks down at the PADD in his hand. Amity can see the shock in his eyes.

There is a

very

tense

pause.

‘Forty eight dead…’ Black begins.

What little colour the bourbon had brought back to Amity’s cheeks drains away.

‘Twenty five injured, six seriously and in critical condition,’ Black finishes.

Amity feels faint. Her legs begin to wobble. Black notices and clutches her arm, steadying her.

‘Easy, lass,’ he says, ushering her towards her chair.

Amity’s knees buckle just as she reaches her chair, and she slumps down, dazed.

‘Forty eight?’ she whispers, shaking her head, refusing to believe Black’s report.

Black looks down at the floor.

‘We…can expect more. We haven’t begun…clearing out the turbo lifts, the lift shafts and the Jefferies tubes yet.’

Amity closes her eyes, but her head spins. She wants to disappear from reality. She knew it was going to be bad, bad before it got better, but she is gutted from Black’s news. She takes another swig and impulsively decides to finish the flask. Black notices.

‘Okay, enough, Cal.’

Amity ignores him and proceeds to gulp the bourbon down. Black quickly leans over her desk and snatches the flask.

‘I said that’s enough!’ he barks.

Amity flies into a rage, out of her seat.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing!?’ she demands.

‘Getting shit-faced isn’t going to make a terrible situation get any better, Captain,’ Black says, standing his ground.

‘Oh what’s the point!?’

‘The point?’

‘In any of it! Captains and Lieutenants and Ensigns and people and aliens. All we do is die. That’s all we ever do. We try and we try to live our lives, go through these motions and emotions, to stay true to our principles, our training, to be fair, and open, and what do we get for our efforts? Depression. Despair. Death.’

‘Cal…’ the Doctor tries.

‘No, Gus!’ Amity cries. ‘I promised them. Promised every one of them that I would get them home. And now they’re dead. And I feel as empty as the promise I made to them.’

Anger builds in Amity. She looks out at the void.

‘As empty,’ she yells, as she grabs her chair, ‘as this god damn void!’

Amity screams and throws her chair with all her might at the ready room window. It smashes against the window and crashes down onto the deck plating. Black wide-eyed, turns to Amity.

‘And now you’ve got nowhere to sit,’ he blinks.

‘It’s not funny, Gus.’

‘I know, it was a fine chair.’

Amity stares at Black, unsure whether to laugh, cry or scream.

‘I…liked that chair!’ she yells, grimacing sheepishly.

Black smiles. Amity wants to smile but her head drops. She leans forward and places her hands on her desk and sighs.

‘So what’s the point, Gus? In trying? In going on? In going in circles? In going out those doors and telling what’s left of my crew to get back to their duties, back to their sorry lives buried alive in an alien tomb? In telling them there is hope, to trust in your Captain, she’ll get you home. When, really, all we ever get is a tragic blip in time, and then death.’

‘Cal,’ Black grimaces, ‘for Christ sake…’

Amity leans forward and looks directly into Black’s eyes.

‘This ship, this crew…we’re cursed.’

‘Oh come on, Cal!’ Black cries, riled.

‘Think about it, Gus, everything we’ve been through, one horror after another, one death after another, there’s a sinister…force…at work here, we’re just pawns, expendable, disposable players in someone’s sick game.’

‘Who’s game? The Immaru? The space core? A higher power!?’

‘Yes! All of the above!’

‘You knew the dangers, the possibilities of space travel, the space core have been training you for it your whole life. You knew the responsibilities you would have to bear the very first day you took that Captain’s chair. Space travel is dangerous. People! People are dangerous. Then add a computer that wants to kill us, a couple of drunk aliens, a bloody Reptoid and a mutiny or two and what do you know, chaos! We’re all murdering each other. But answer me this lass, how in the hell could any of this be your fault? Why in the hell should you take all that weight for circumstances beyond your training, your experience, beyond what you, or anyone, could control?’

Amity is calming. She understands her old friend’s logic. She opens her mouth to acknowledge his words.

‘I mean,’ Black carries on, starting to look distraught, ‘I mean how could anyone…blame…themselves for things that happen outside of their control? We never asked to be gassed, we never asked to become raging lunatics beset on doing…unspeakable…things to each other, I mean…we were under the influence of one of the most powerful substances I’ve ever made…yes, me, I made that compound, so do I bear the blame? I didn’t release it into the ventilation system though…so am I the victim? But what about my victims, Cal?’

Amity just stares at him, anxious and bewildered by Black’s rant.

‘If I’m the victim, then what I did…what I did, the victim, I can’t be held accountable…for the…unspeakable…actions…’

‘Gus,’ Amity says, softly. ‘what are you trying to say?’

Black breaks down. Amity walks around her desk and holds him as he weeps. He looks up into her eyes.

‘I…killed…seven people,’ he whispers.

Amity is shocked and can’t hide it.

‘Whilst under the influence of the compound, right?’ she offers.

Black nods.

‘You…took the full effect of the compound? Amity asks, carefully.

‘When the gas began to fill sickbay I ran to the cabinet for a breathing apparatus. I was already feeling faint. The cabinet was empty. I searched in a panic, and, I remember…entering my…office, and, I must have passed out.’

‘Jesus,’ Amity says, squeezing Black’s arms. ‘It’s how it must have been for the whole crew.’

‘The compound, it tapped into a certain part of the brain, the basal ganglia. One of the most ancient parts of our brains, also known as the lizard, or…reptilian…brain….’

Amity raises her eyebrows.

‘It’s responsible for automated decision making, fight or flight, fear, suspicion, anxiety. All the things that have helped keep us alive for millions of years of evolution. When this part of our brain perceives a threat, it shuts down our higher functions, rationality, empathy, even memory. The compound hyper-stimulated the basal ganglia, keeping it in a constant state of fear, anxiety, and…you get the picture.’

Amity takes a breath and nods.

‘Gus, those seven people…’

Black breaks down again.

‘Like you told me, you’re not responsible,’ Amity explains, ‘you never chose to kill them.’

‘I’m a doctor, not a murderer!’

‘Exactly, you heal people, help peo…’

‘I’m a doctor, not a butcher!’ Black cries into the air.

‘Gus…’ Amity says, a little afraid, squeezing his arms, trying to reach him.

‘What kind of doctor cuts up his patients…removes their limbs…organs, eyes…head, Christ even their genitalia, Cal…’

Amity is disturbed and, again, fails to hide it.

‘…and then sew it all back onto the wrong bodies, in the wrong places..?’ Black whispers, distant.

‘Gus…’

‘I kept them alive, Cal…in that condition. Like Frankenstein’s monsters.’

Black slowly looks into Amity’s eyes.

‘Why would I do that?’

Amity shakes her head.

‘The gas…you’re not responsible for those actions. You were drugged. Out of your mind.’

‘To murder someone is one thing. But to do…that…’

‘The compound had a devastating effect on all of us. Made us all do things that we would never normally do. Murder…cannibalism…rape. It brought out the worst in us.’

Black nods and gently sobs.

‘How could something I created be so devastating?’

‘It wasn’t meant to be taken all at once was it?’ Amity smiles.

Black almost smiles. He looks into his old friend’s eyes.

‘I don’t know if I’ll ever get over this one, Cal.’

Amity’s smile drops. She nods.

‘I know what you mean. But we have to try.’

‘Just a moment ago you were asking me “what’s the point?”‘

‘I know,’ Amity squints, ‘we’ve kind of come full circle. Listen, a lot of shit has happened on this ship, this…trek of ours…enough to make anyone want to bail. This crew, what is left of them, deserve a chance, to get out of this place once and for all. We owe it to the ones we have lost. We owe it to ourselves, despite what we are subjected to. We have to fight. Free ourselves. Get home.’

Black nods. Now, he is smiling.

‘I’m not ready to die until I see those bonny rolling hills of home, that early morning mist creeping o’er the heather, to hae a dram by an open fire in my local.’

‘Let me guess,’ Amity smiles, ‘Clachaig Inn?’

‘Of course,’ Black winks.

There is a moment of calm. They smile at each other.

‘Now, if that isn’t something to live for, to fight for, I don’t know what is,’ Amity says.

Black nods, wiping his wet eyes with the back of his hand.

‘Now, Doctor,’ Amity says, switching on her formal voice, ‘I believe you owe me some good news?’

‘Ah,’ Black says, clicking, he stares down at his PADD and then back at Amity.

‘The effects of the compound have almost worn off, I estimate that the entire crew will have fully recovered, within an hour, two at most. Also, as you have no doubt noticed, our eyes are slowly returning to normal, the…blackness…slowly fading.’

Amity smiles.

‘Okay, good to hear.’

‘However…’

‘Ah.’

‘I would recommend counselling for the crew. We know it ourselves, there is a lot of psychological trauma that this crew must come to understand, and heal from. Before we knew her as an alien, Leenda Valda was a pretty good counsellor.’

‘It’s funny you should bring her up,’ Amity says, walking Black to the doors. They whsssh open. ‘I was thinking of paying the Immaru a visit.’

They step out onto the bridge.

STARDATE – ?????.?

Captain Amity leads the way with Jamieson’s flashlight and carefully climbs the ladder in Jefferies tube seventeen, with Ensign Jamieson close behind and Mark Matthews taking up the rear. The bridge is only a few metres away. Jamieson freezes.

‘Jamieson…what are you..?’ Matthews begins to protest.

‘Ssshh,’ Jamieson hushes. ‘Can anyone hear that?’

Amity pauses and looks down at her companions.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Can’t you hear that, Captain?’ Jamieson whispers.

Amity cocks her head, listening.

‘Hear what?’ Matthews whispers, annoyed. ‘I don’t hear anything. Why am I whispering?’

‘A kind of…high pitched…sound…’ Jamieson says.

Amity raises her eyebrows as her ears begin to pick up a faint noise.

‘Wait a minute…’ she says, surprised, ‘a kind of high pitched whine…’

‘You hear it?’ Jamieson asks. ‘So it’s not just me?’

Matthews listens intently.

‘What is that?’ Amity asks.

Matthews huffs.

‘I don’t hear anythi…’ he blurts, but quickly falls silent as a distant sound enters his ears. ‘I hear it.’

‘A high pitched…screeching…sound, ‘Amity says, having trouble with her description, ‘almost like a flock of bats.’

‘Colony, Maam,’ Jamieson says, sounding afraid.

‘I beg your pardon, Ensign?’ Amity asks, confused.

‘A colony of bats,’ Matthews answers, frustrated, ‘not a flock, and it doesn’t sound like bats at all, more like…’

‘Reptoids!’ Jamieson blurts. ‘Screeching Reptoids!’

‘Oh, here we go again with the Reptoids?’

‘Whatever it is, it’s getting louder,’ Amity announces.

Jamieson and Matthews fall silent and listen.

The sound is getting louder. Closer.

‘What is that!?’ Matthews asks, with a hint of fear in his voice.

Jamieson begins to grimace. The sound becoming loud and unbearable. Matthews desperately scans up and down the Jefferies tube, expecting to see something approaching, something that could be making such a horrendous noise.

‘That…is actually getting painful!’ Amity says, struggling to cover her ears and grip on to the ladder.

‘It’s Reptoids!’ Jamieson shrieks, as he closes his eyes.

‘What the hell is going on!?’ Matthews yells.

Silence.

The noise, gone in an instant. Amity slowly uncovers her ears. Jamieson slowly opens his eyes. Matthews breathes heavy, startled by the experience.

‘What just happened?’ Jamieson asks, shakily.

‘Did that really happen? We all heard it, right?’ Amity says.

‘Unless it was another hallucination?’ Jamieson suggests.

‘A shared hallucination?’ Amity shrugs.

‘I’ve never heard anything like it,’ Matthews says, shaking his head. ‘If we can share the same hallucination, we have to be careful how we proceed.’

‘Agreed,’ Amity nods down to him. She looks up, and shines the light up the Jefferies tube. ‘Not far to go now. I think we should push on.’

‘Agreed.’

‘After you, Captain,’ Jamieson smiles.

As Amity begins to resume her climb, Jamieson can’t help but gaze at her rump as it sways with each movement. He’s never really thought about his Captain in a sexual way. He has long considered her a caring matriarch figure in his life. But as he stares at her rump his mind begins to wander into lustful fancy. In his daze, her rump even looks like it is getting closer to him, to his face, and, in reality, it is. Jamieson’s face plants between Amity’s butt crevice. In his reverie, he hadn’t noticed that she had paused at the hatch that leads to the bridge.

‘Excuse me, Ensign,’ she protests down to him, ‘but if I had a functioning ship to power the force fields on a cell, and any security officers left alive to escort you there, I would throw you in the brig for that sort of insubordination.’

Jamieson comes to his senses and quickly pulls his head back.

‘Jesus!’ he blurts. ‘Sorry…I…wasn’t paying attention…’

Amity sighs.

‘Yes, well, I didn’t think you had picked this special moment to make a romantic advance.’

‘Of course…Captain..I would never…’

‘Ensign, relax.’

‘What’s going on?’ Matthews asks, from below. ‘Why have you stopped?’

‘It’s the hatch,’ Amity says, lowering her voice. ‘It’s open.’

‘Someone has come this way already,’ Matthews says, grimly.

‘Reptoids!’ Jamieson blurts.

‘Would you keep your voice down,’ Amity says, trying to hush Jamieson.

‘Reptoids…’ Matthews scoffs, ‘of course…’

‘Ensign, hand me your phaser,’ Amity orders.

Jamieson fumbles for his phaser.

‘The Captain and I forgot to tell you,’ Matthews goes on, ‘we’re Reptoids too…’

Jamieson huffs as he reaches up and hands his phaser to Amity.

‘In fact…’Matthews continues, ‘everyone on board the ship, except you, of course, is a Reptoid…’

As Amity takes the phaser from Jamieson, he notices hands reaching down, from above, through the hatch. Green, scaly hands, with long sharp black claws, reaching down for Amity.

‘Captain, look out!’ Jamieson cries.

Amity tries to look up, but the hands quickly grab her shoulders and she is pulled up through the hatch and out of sight.

‘Captain!?’ Jamieson shrieks.

‘What happened? What’s going on?’ Matthews demands, trying to see passed Jamieson.

‘Someone…some…thing…took the Captain.’

‘What? Who?’

‘I…didn’t see who…I just saw their hands…Reptoid hands…’

‘Alright, move’ Matthews says, flatly, as he hurriedly climbs up the ladder, almost crawling over Jamieson, who re-positions himself to allow Matthews to climb passed him.

Matthews soon reaches the hatch and, without delay, climbs up and onto the bridge. Jamieson scrambles up the ladder to join him. As he climbs through the hatch, it takes him a moment to get his bearings. He can see Matthews towering above him. He realises he is at the rear of the bridge. He gets to his feet and looks out over the bridge. The view is hazy. The gas is denser here. He spots two dark figures huddled together, in the centre of the bridge, through the haze. Jamieson’s vision fluctuates. He feels light-headed. The room begins to morph around him. He turns to Matthews, who is clearly struggling with the gas and his hold on reality. He seems to be staring intently at something but when Jamieson follows his line of sight he can’t see anything in particular. He turns back to Matthews, whose face is straining with emotion as tears run down his cheeks.

‘Commander?’ Jamieson asks, warily.

Matthews slowly turns to Jamieson and gazes at him with wet, black eyes.

‘I held her head in my hands and wept…’

Jamieson is confused.

‘Leah?’

‘Julie.’

‘McAllister?’

‘I found her on the roof of a turbo lift on deck ten. All…broken up.’

Jamieson turns and scans the bridge for the two figures. His head spins again. He looks down to find he is standing on a deep red wine-coloured ocean. He doesn’t realise the absurdity of being able to walk on water, but he does realise that this is not a red wine ocean at all, it is not even water. It is blood. An ocean of blood. The crew’s blood. He loses his balance and stumbles, clutching on to a work station. He turns to see Matthews cradling something.

‘You don’t understand,’ Matthews says, distant, looking right through Jamieson and holding his trembling hands out in front of him, ‘I held her…decapitated head in my hands…’ his voice growing louder and more manic, ‘and I wept!’

He screams, vividly recalling the image in his mind.

‘Jesus…’ Jamieson whimpers, disturbed. He looks down to see McAllister’s severed head in Matthews’ hands. He screams as her eyes and mouth open and a long slimy serpent worm flies out of her mouth towards him. Jamieson tries to shield himself with an arm. He blinks, and notices the serpent worm is gone, as is McAllister’s head, although, Matthews is still cradling it, lost in his illusion.

Flames erupt in an inferno all around Jamieson. This isn’t the bridge anymore. It’s the house where he grew up. The house that burned to the ground.

‘This isn’t real!’ Jamieson cries out.

He hears screaming and turns, horrified to see his father, engulfed in flames, writhing on the floor. Jamieson looks down into his own hands. He is holding a charred black corpse of a cat. It begins to crumble and turns to ash, falling through his fingers.

‘No!’ Jamieson screams, pulling himself out of one nightmare, into another. He’s back on the bridge.

He can see Matthews woefully looking down at his own hands as he rocks, presumably, McAllister’s severed head gently to and fro.

‘Ssssh, go to sleep now,’ he says, softly.

‘Commander, we’re hallucinating!’ Jamieson calls out.

Matthews looks directly at Jamieson and scowls. His demeanour changes. Aggression is building.

‘You stay away from her,’ Matthews warns, shielding McAllister’s head with his arm.

‘We really don’t have time for…’

Matthews snarls and begins to lunge at Jamieson.

A bright orange beam flashes passed Matthews and Jamieson, just missing them by inches. It snaps them both out of their manic moment, and they duck down behind the work station. Jamieson turns to find a security officer lying dead on the floor beside him. Her eyes gouged out. Jamieson gags and turns away.

‘Jamieson…I…I…’ Matthews stutters, wide-eyed, scanning his hands and realising that they are, in fact, empty.

‘Commander, get your shit together.’

‘Where are we? What the hell is going on?’

‘Commander, the bridge, Massie, the Captain…ring any bells?’

It seems to click when another phaser blast whooshes by over their heads.

‘Whoever grabbed the Captain…’ Matthews begins, whispering.

‘I told you, it’s a damn Reptoid…’ Jamieson whispers back, nodding.

Matthews sighs.

‘Whoever it was, obviously has the phaser,’ Matthews whispers. ‘We’ll have to split up, flank, you go right and I’ll go left. Keep low.’

‘Wait a minute,’ Jamieson whispers back, ‘you’ve got the only other phaser. What am I supposed to do against a Reptoid? Call it names,’ his voice growing louder and more desperate, ‘and hope the psychological damage is enough to evoke suicide!?’

The sound of phaser fire fills the air again and the work station above them explodes, showering them with hot glowing sparks.

‘Go!’ Matthews blurts, and he turns and crawls away.

‘Christ!’ Jamieson cries, turning and crawling the other way, over the dead officer. It seems to reach out, grasping and clinging to him as he moves.

‘Oh Jesus…’ he groans, creeped out, trying to remind himself that it must be another delusion.

He moves slowly, from one work station to another. With his back against a console, he carefully peeks around the edge of the console. He can see the figures, shuffling around in the mist. He can’t quite make out their identity. He’s closer, to their left. He realises that if he continues sneaking around, towards the main viewer, he might be able to jump them from behind. At least he would have an advantage. He continues his crawl.

‘I can see you,’ a familiar, yet odd, voice says, aloud.

Jamieson freezes, panicked. He awaits phaser fire. Nothing. He tries to decide whether to stay frozen or make a run for it.

‘I can see you sneaking around there, Commander,’ the voice says.

Jamieson ever so quietly crawls to a console at the front of the bridge and takes cover. He knows he will have to pick the right moment.

‘Come out, Commander! We both know you want to!’ the voice cackles.

There is the muffled sound of a woman groaning, trying to speak, her mouth obviously covered.

‘Come out or I’ll kill her.’

Jamieson hesitates.

‘Three…two…one…’

‘Okay!’ Matthews voice booms.

Jamieson watches another hazy figure rise from behind a work station. The two other figures turn to him, and Jamieson notices an arm extending out. Aiming the phaser.

‘Ah, Commander Matthews. So, sweetheart, do you like what I’ve done with the place?’

‘Brett, even you must see that this is madness? What the hell happened to you!?’

‘It is Massie,’ Jamieson whispers to himself.

‘What happened to me?’ Massie answers, melodramatically. ‘I’ve been set free. Like everyone else on this ship. Free of the burden of morality and responsibility. Free of the dissonance of feelings and sensibilities and empathy. Free to exist as the animals that we are. On pure instinct and impulse. I thought you of all people would understand. You see, I tried. I’ve been trying my whole life. To repress myself. Fit in. Knowing all along that I was different, that I had this…this beast inside me all along. Subdued and hindered by the rules of a society I never belonged to, by the laws of a people I never felt a part of. The unbearable stifling chain of command, having to remain subordinate to weaker and unremarkable people you know you could crush in an instance. I’ve always known I am different. The rage in me. The violent thoughts and urges. I thought that a role in security might satisfy the wild animal in me that just wanted to tear everyone apart.’

‘I knew it, he is a Reptoid,’ Jamieson whispers. He begins to slowly and quietly edge towards Massie, and the Captain.

‘And here I was thinking that all this was my doing? For the way I treated you. A…man scorned, and all that jazz,’ Matthews teases, ‘turns out you’re just mental.’

Massie just sniggers, creepily.

‘All my life I have heard it. Its name. The concept. But, I’ve…never experienced what humans have called love. I’ve…never understood it. Until…you. Extraordinarily overwhelming. And, as I learned, extraordinarily destructive. It’s like a sickness. Rooted deep into you. For a while, what we had, kept all those darker impulses away. I thought I finally knew what it meant to be a human being.  What it meant to love, and…be loved. I quickly learned the truth. That it was all a delusion. That all this, everything, everything we’ve experienced on this ship, in this void, in our lives, is a delusion, a delusion that we create. We go from one delusion to the next. Releasing the compound has released us to experience our delusions to the full, without all the conditioning and restraints put upon us since birth.’

‘Humans aren’t born monsters. Trauma and stress from our environment and upbringing used to create behaviour that, yes, you could call monstrous, but we’ve come a long way, that was a long time ago. Can’t you see it’s all another delusion? You think you have set us free, to be who we are supposed to be? This isn’t who we are supposed to be. Not murderers, rapists, monsters. All this, this is not us. It’s not you. It’s simply a devastating effect of breathing in the compound.’

‘You call it devastating, I call it liberating.’

‘Speak for yourself. If you want to call yourself a monster, that’s fine. But I’ve been breathing in the compound as much as you have and I haven’t turned into a monster.’

Jamieson is so close. He can now make out the Captain through the haze, a shadowy arm tight around her, a dark green scaly hand clamped around her mouth. He can see the dark silhouette of the back of Massie’s head. Jamieson knows he has to make his move soon.

‘So you took the full force of the compound as I did?’ Massie asks.

‘Well, no, I was able to use my breathing apparatus initially. You took the full effect?’

‘Oh, I admit, I was…no longer present. At first. Pure animal. I have no memory. The first thing that I can recall, consciously, is the sound of screaming. I…awoke…to find myself squatting over one of the Talbot twins with my thumbs deep in his eye sockets. The feeling from watching him squirm as I scooped out his eyeballs…terribly addictive. I eventually learned to control it. Direct my delusions. Roll with the hallucinations and draw on the killer instinct at will. Not like any of the half-wits, weak and lost, that were unfortunate enough to cross the path of a superior beast, such as I. Like, in the canteen.’

‘So, you…wilfully killed all those people?’

‘Of course. But make no mistake, by the time they met me, they weren’t people anymore. Don’t you see, that’s the beauty of the compound. It returned us to that ancient mindset. Fight or flight, or food, or fuck.  And let me tell you, it takes a hell of a lot of will power to eat a fresh kill, I’d grown so use to cooking and seasoning. But I think I’m developing a taste for raw food.’

‘Maybe you are a monster, after all,’ Matthews scowls, enraged and edging forward.

‘Hold it!’ Massie yells, re-aiming the phaser. ‘That’s the spirit. Like I said, I thought you of all people would understand. Fight, food, fuck. You’re like me. You also already had a beast inside you, just waiting to rise, and all it took was a certain set of circumstances.’

‘I’m nothing like you!’ Matthews yells. ‘You’re a god damn monster!’

Jamieson makes his move and begins to rise up behind Massie. As he does he notices that Massie’s tail is missing.

‘It takes one to know one. Of course I’m a monster,’ Massie hisses, ‘I’m a man.’

Jamieson is momentarily confused by Massie’s last words, but pounces anyway. He manages to grab Massie around the neck, and clutch his arm holding the phaser. Amity takes the opportunity to elbow Massie in the ribs. Massie flinches, releasing Amity, who dives out of harm’s way. As Massie struggles with Jamieson, he manages to wriggle free and bites down hard into Jamieson’s arm. Jamieson cries out and weakens for a moment. Massie spins around and elbows Jamieson in the face. As Jamieson’s head snaps back, and his legs buckle and he begins to fall, his old friend, slow motion, returns, and he watches the face of a monster as its eyes fixate on him.

It wants to kill him. Its expression, wild, focused and fierce.

But a realisation hits Jamieson like another elbow in the face, a realisation that this is no Reptoid before him, it is a man, albeit a terrifying man out of his mind, but nothing more than a man.

Time resumes its normal pace. Jamieson hits the deck, with a crash and a groan. Amity jumps aside as Matthews takes aim with his phaser. Massie lunges at Jamieson, his hands wrenched into claws, his mouth open and poised to bite. He hisses as Matthews fires. The phaser blast hits Massie in the back. He shrieks in pain, arching his spine. Matthews fires again, sending Massie hurtling forward and tumbling down onto the floor next to Jamieson. Jamieson, with a painful jaw, his vision fluctuating, on the verge of passing out, gazes at the body next to him. Brett Massie. Not a Reptoid. A man. He shakes his head, trying to reset his vision, his awareness. Massie, very slowly, begins to rise from the deck plating, reaching for Jamieson, with a Reptoid hand. Matthews alters the setting on the phaser, aims, and fires again. The blast tears Massie’s torso open, spraying blood in all directions, and he flops down dead.

Jamieson lies still for a moment, trying to stay conscious. He feels hands on him. Human hands.

‘Ensign, are you okay?’ Amity’s voice asks.

Jamieson, gently, sits up, aided by the Captain. His headache has decided to come out of retirement for one final spectacular show. He holds his jaw where Massie had struck him, and groans.

‘He’ll live,’ Matthews voice says, abruptly.

Jamieson huffs.

‘Thanks for your concern.’

‘Oh come now, Ensign, I just saved your life…again.’

Amity turns to Matthews.

‘You saved…both…our lives,’ she says, flatly. ‘Thank you.’

Amity walks over to the hatch and searches the decking. She leans down and scoops something from the floor. She returns with Jamieson’s flashlight. She switches it on and illuminates Massie’s dead body. Matthews approaches and helps Jamieson up onto his feet.

‘You see,’ Matthews says, waving a hand at the body. ‘Just a man.’

Jamieson watches Massie intensely, and scans his body for any signs of Reptoid physiology. The hands. He can see they are clearly the hands of a Reptoid.

‘The hands!’ Jamieson blurts, pointing to them.

Amity directs the beam of light to Massie’s Reptoid hands.

‘My guess is he raided the morgue,’ she grimaces.

‘Dunkhan,’ Matthews says, catching on.

‘Made himself a nice pair of killing gloves.’

‘Sick bastard.’

‘You should know, you slept with him.’

Matthews chuckles through the sting in Amity’s words.

‘Maybe his body will revert back to its natural…’ Jamieson tries.

‘For Christ sake, look at him!’ Matthews yells, as Amity shines the light on the phaser blast and the gore. ‘He’s a human being.’

Jamieson lowers his eyes.

‘I was…so sure…Massie…the canteen…I…Leah White, and…’

‘It’s okay, Ensign. Maybe your mind saw what it wanted to see.’

‘Captain?’

‘Maybe you couldn’t believe that humans, that man, could be responsible for such acts of barbarity and cruelty,’ Matthews suggests, ‘so your mind settled on the idea that it must have been a Reptoid?’

‘That and the gas, and suddenly there are Reptoids everywhere you look’ Amity says, gently.

Jamieson takes a final look at Massie and nods, accepting the reality. He squints and cocks his head.

‘Hang on…what if he is a Reptoid and we are having another shared hallucination where he is human!?’

Amity sighs and rubs her temples. Matthews just raises the phaser and bangs it off his own head several times. He shrugs and stares at Jamieson, done.

‘Y’know, Jamieson…’

 

SUPPLEMENTAL

 

Kitty McDonald finishes wrapping the opti-cable around Donald Stewart’s neck and ties a knot, tight. She nonchalantly takes his arms and begins to slowly drag him to the edge of the top floor platform.

‘This really isn’t necessary,’ Stewart says.

‘Now, we talked about this. This is what we agreed.’

‘I never ag…’

‘We both agreed,’ McDonald blurts, cutting him off, ‘that this was the most logical, humane thing to do.’

‘Surely, the most logical humane thing to do is not hang me from the top floor balcony?’

‘We discussed this, it’s either a short sharp jerk and boom, it’s done, or, it’s a long drawn out painful death, eating our own lips for nourishment? Hmmm, it’s a tough one,’ McDonald huffs and puffs as she struggles to pull Stewart along the deck plating, ‘sheesh, have you put on weight?’

Stewart looks down at his missing foot.

‘Lost a bit, actually,’ he sighs. ‘The Captain, she might still…’

‘Look,’ McDonald gasps, as she pulls Stewart close to the edge, ‘the Captain is clearly dead, probably murdered and mutilated by one of her own crew, and anyway…I thought you believed in…what do you call it, another life?’

‘An afterlife?’

‘That’s it.’

‘Well, I would like to believe that there is somethi…’

‘So what are you worried about? There’s a whole other life waiting for you, and it’s got to be better than this?’

Stewart doesn’t know what to say.

‘Now, hold still,’ McDonald says, reaching down, and struggling to push Stewart off the ledge.

As Stewart’s lifeless dead-weight body slowly eases over the edge, McDonald sighs and straightens up. She watches his body slump over the edge, but then it pauses. Stewart looks over his shoulder.

‘See you in the next life,’ he says, smiling.

‘Yeah, sure,’ McDonald smiles back, taking a step forward, ‘you can forgive me there.’

‘Forgive you?’ Stewart asks, confused. ‘Forgive you for what?’

McDonald thrusts her foot forward, kicking Stewart off the ledge. His body plummets and the opti-cable snaps taught. There is an almighty crack from below. Stewart’s neck breaking.

McDonald takes a solemn deep breath, and slowly lets it out.

‘I thought he’d never go,’ she shrugs, reaching up and adjusting her own noose, pulling the opti-cable knot tight around her own neck.

She takes a few small steps forward and pauses, teetering on the edge. She looks down, in a daze, at Stewart’s body, swinging from side to side. She looks up, with tears streaming from her eyes.

‘A short sharp jerk,’ she whispers, catching her breath. Her eyes widen and she lifts her foot to step off the ledge.

A voice calls out through static interference over the com.

‘This…s…tain…mity…calli…al…ations…can anyon…r…me..?’

McDonald’s momentum carries her over the edge.

‘Captain?’ she cries, recognising the voice, as she falls. She manages to turn in the air and grab the ledge, her fingers gripping onto the deck plating. She desperately clambers and swings a leg up onto the ledge and climbs back onto the platform. She rests on her back, looking up at the roof of engineering, breathing heavily.

The red glow of the emergency lighting is replaced by the main overhead lighting. There is a deep low rumble, a surge of power, and consoles begin to light up and chirp all around her.

McDonald smiles, and begins to sob. She slowly reaches up, finds her combadge and presses it.

‘McDonald to the bridge.’

There is a pause.

For a moment, she thinks her mind has played one final trick on her. One final twisted delusion.

‘Chief, is tha…ou..?’

McDonald laughs, giddily, and then sobs, and then laughs some more.

‘You took your sweet time, Captain,’ she calls out.

‘…ang tight, Chief…ain pow…is…ming back onlin…’

There is an almighty gust of a sound, that startles McDonald before she recognises it. The sound of the gas being vented through the ventilation system. She is startled again, by a whrrring and bleeping sound. She also recognises this sound. She smiles.

‘Hello, Harold.’

‘Kitty McDonald,’ Harold states.

There is a long whrrr and beeping.

‘Aye!?’ McDonald asks, impatient.

What has been going on in here?’

STARDATE – ?????.?

Captain Amity, Mark Matthews and Ensign Jamieson slowly make their way through the corridor on their way to the Jefferies tube that will take them to the bridge. Although disturbed by hearing  Jamieson’s experiences in the turbo lift shaft, and the canteen in particular, Amity is still dubious about accepting that there are more Reptoids aboard the ship.

‘Yes, I agree, it is plausible, Ensign, I realise Dunkhan was able to fool everyone for so long before he came out, but we can’t rule out the psychotropic effects of the gas. If I know the Doctor, and I do, he will have been tinkering with all kinds of chemicals at his disposal, psilocybin, different strains of Martianuana, dimethyltryptamine, and the like. Who knows what kind of diabolical concoction he was cooking up? Who knows what we’ve been exposed to? We can’t be certain if what we are seeing is to be believed.’

‘Captain, I saw Dunkhan…morph…from a human…oid…type being…to a fully formed Reptoid, right before my eyes,’ Jamieson argues, ‘if they are able to pull off that level of…shape shifting…mimicry, much like the Immaru, then I would say it’s likely there are more Reptoids among us.’

‘By that logic, there may even be other incognito Immaru amongst us too,’ Matthews adds. ‘It wasn’t just Dunkhan who fooled us.’

‘Surely Leenda Valda would have mentioned that by now?’ Jamieson suggests.

‘Maybe she doesn’t know?’

‘Surely she could sense another…’

‘No,’ Amity interrupts, ‘I recently discovered that, not only are there certain species that the Immaru cannot sense or read, like the Reptoids, they can’t sense each other either.’

‘You see!?’ Matthews adds.

‘Oh great,’ Jamieson groans, ‘so not only is there the chance of more Reptoids…well, at least the Immaru are on our side.’

Amity grimaces in the dark, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

‘You know, visibility may be poor, but I can still see that look on your face, Cal,’ Matthews says, flatly. ‘Maybe now would be a good time to give us that update on our alien friends.’

Amity halts. Matthews and Jamieson join her. She stares down at the deck plating.

‘Okay,’ she says, ‘there’s something you have to know about the Immaru…’

There is a

short

pause.

Amity raises her head and takes a breath to speak, and freezes, her expression changing to confusion.

‘Captain?’ Jamieson shrugs.

‘Can you hear that?’ she asks, straining her eyes to see up ahead into the darkness.

‘Hear what?’ Matthews asks, impatient. He and Jamieson follow her line of sight and stare into the darkness.

Jamieson shines his flashlight, but reveals nothing. Then they all hear it. A slight, wet, squidgy sound. Amity takes Jamieson’s arm and she slowly leads him down the corridor towards the sound. Matthews follows close behind.

‘What is that?’ he asks.

‘Oh no,’ Jamieson whispers.

‘Ensign?’ Amity whispers back.

‘I recognise that sound, from the canteen…someone eating. It could be a Reptoid.’

‘Will you shut up about Reptoids,’ Matthews whispers, ‘that’s all I’ve heard from you since…’

Jamieson’s light uncovers a sight that makes them all freeze, stunned. Ensign Ewan Rollo lies face down in a pool of blood. He is naked from the waist down and both of his legs appear to be missing. He is left with two bloody stumps.

‘Rollo…’ Amity whispers, shocked and shaking her head.

Then the sound again. Jamieson follows the sound, and a trail of blood, with his flashlight to reveal Rollo’s carer a few feet away, naked and squatting, and ravenously tucking in to one of Rollo’s missing limbs. The other is on the floor beside her, along with a rather large and blood-stained cleaver.

‘Jesus!’ Jamieson cries, horrified. He looks down at the leg on the floor. ‘Someone’s hungry. Is one not enough for you!?’

She looks up at them with her wide black eyes, with blood and stringy bits of calf muscle dribbling from her mouth and hisses, while slowly reaching down and picking up the cleaver.

‘What you do!?’ she screeches, and lunges forward towards them, raising the cleaver high.

Jamieson jumps a foot in the air and fumbles for his phaser. A bright orange flash goes off next to him. Matthews has beaten him to it. The phaser fire hits the carer in her chest, sending her hurtling backwards onto the floor. She flops down, still.

There is a moment of silence. They all take a breath.

‘It’s gruesome,’ Amity says. ‘Cannibalism? On my ship! Again!?

‘You see, Jamieson,’ Matthews says, stowing his phaser away, ‘maybe what you saw was Massie chewing the cook in the canteen? Simply a man, out of his mind. Not a Reptoid, after all?’

Jamieson huffs.

‘I know what I saw,’ he says, shining his flashlight on Rollo’s body.

He hurries over and crouches down next to Rollo, and holds two fingers over Rollo’s wrist.

‘His legs have been hacked off,’ comes a cynical voice from behind, ‘I think it’s safe to say he’s dead.’

Jamieson ignores Matthews’ comment, choosing to be hopeful instead. His naive optimism is soon rewarded when he feels a pulse.

‘I…can feel a pulse!’ Jamieson exclaims, looking back and smirking at Matthews, ‘he’s alive!’

‘He’ll need immediate medical attention,’ Amity says, with urgency in her voice. She turns to Matthews. ‘You said the Doctor was safe. Do you think he could…’

Matthews interrupts her by shaking his head.

‘No, let me be clearer. He is safe, yes, locked in his office cupboard. But locked in for good reason.’

‘The gas…he’s…?’

‘Yeah,’ Matthews nods. ‘I very much doubt that there is anything more we can do for Ensign Rollo at this time.’

Amity sighs and shakes her head, hurt.

‘Well, we can’t just leave him here to die,’ Jamieson pleads, turning to Rollo, who is now facing Jamieson, with blood running down his face. Rollo glares, with a deranged smile.

‘Jesus!’ Jamieson says, startled, and he tumbles backwards. He slams down onto the deck plating and is slightly winded from the impact.

The flashlight spins away out of his hand and lands in a position to perfectly illuminate Rollo as he rises up onto his hands, stretching out his neck and snapping his teeth. Jamieson struggles to catch his breath as he watches Rollo’s eyes fix on him. Rollo screams a guttural shriek and quickly walks forwards on his hands, with his bloody stumps dragging behind him, towards Jamieson, who manages to draw in a breath and tries to sit up. But Rollo is fast on his hands and is soon crawling up Jamieson’s legs. Jamieson screams and tries to struggle free, but Rollo is determined and is soon on top of Jamieson. They grapple with each other for a moment.

‘Mark, do something!’ the Captain’s voice yells.

‘They’re just hugging, look,’ Matthews answers, sarcastically, ‘they’re just old friends who haven’t seen each oth…’

Rollo lunges down and snaps his teeth, trying to take a bite out of Jamieson’s face. Jamieson squeals and manages to hold him off.

‘Okay, maybe not,’ Matthews concedes, ‘stand clear!’

Blood drips down and off Rollo’s nose and chin onto Jamieson’s face and into his mouth. He cries out and gags and spits as he struggles with Rollo, who lifts his head and laughs maniacally. Then there is another orange flash and the sound of Matthews’ phaser going off again. Rollo jerks and grunts and, with one sudden motion, he flops down, a dead weight, onto Jamieson, squashing him. Jamieson squirms and tries to push Rollo off him.

‘Help…me..!’

‘Hold on, Ensign!’ Amity calls, as she and Matthews pull Rollo’s lifeless body to the side.

Jamieson awkwardly scrambles to his feet, and coughs and spits and desperately tries to wipe the blood from his face with his sleeve.

‘That’s it!’ he yells, into the air, ‘I’ve had it! With this place! This void…isolation…prison hell-hole! I’ve had it with this crew, Captains, and Commanders, aliens, and duty, and lizards and blood and death… and the space core….and space! I’ve had it with this ship! Any ship! If some miracle does happen and we ever get back to earth I’ll never set foot on another star ship…sailing ship..bus, taxi or frigging bicycle for the rest of my sorry life! Absolutely no mode of transport from now on…and no other people within a hundred feet at all times! Is that clear!?’

There is an

awkward

pause.

Jamieson breathes hard and wipes the rest of the blood off his face.

‘You finished?’ Matthews smiles.

Jamieson takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He leans down and scoops up his flashlight.

‘No,’ he says, calmly. ‘I’m not finished. Not yet.’

He shines his torch down at Rollo’s body.

‘And I’ll be damned if I end up like that poor bastard.’

Jamieson turns and takes off down the corridor towards Jefferies tube seventeen. Amity and Matthews awkwardly glance at each other and jog after him.

 

SUPPLEMENTAL

 

Kitty McDonald tilts her head back and roars with laughter. She’s so happy to finally have company. Company that didn’t want to throttle, eat or kill her in some other hideous way for once. She gazes over at the source of her laughter. Her engineering colleague Donald Stewart. She had discovered him on the upper level of main engineering, sitting on the floor, propped up against a work station. He has injured his foot and can’t walk. So she sat down to join him.

‘Even during times of a crisis, you’ve still got to laugh,’ he smiles.

McDonald smiles back and shrugs.

‘Humour is a good coping mechanism I guess,’ she says, ‘and let’s face it, where we grew up, we needed all the humour we could get.’

They chuckle together.

‘I’d do anything to be back in Scotland,’ Stewart sighs. ‘The wilderness districts. Nature. Those hills.’

‘That air,’ McDonald says, taking in a panicked breath of the misty, musty air in engineering, and then spluttering slightly. Her vision blurs and she becomes light-headed.

‘Wooooo,’ she says, shaking her head.

‘You alright?’

‘Yeah, the gas,’ she nods, ‘it just won’t clear, will it.’

‘We’re going to have to wait until main power is restored. Then we can vent the gas.’

‘Exactly. I just wish the Captain would hurry up. It shouldn’t have taken this long.’

‘Be patient. I’m sure it’s just a matter of…’

‘Maybe we should go? To the bridge?’

Stewart grimaces and looks down at his foot.

‘I’m not going anywhere. It’s too painful to walk.’

McDonald nods, sympathetically, but she looks worried.

‘Listen,’ Stewart says, softly, ‘give the Captain a chance. Wait a little while longer.’

McDonald nods, frantically. She reaches up and pulls at her hair.

‘It’s the waiting, you know? The loneliness. Before I found you I thought I was the only one left alive. I really thought I was going to lose it.’

‘Listen, I’ve known you for many years, worked with you on many a ship and mission, so I think I have some authority here when I say…you lost it a long time ago!’

McDonald laughs, snapping out of her turmoil. Stewart laughs too.

‘Hey!’ she protests, smiling and wagging a finger, ‘insulting a superior officer?’

‘Superior officer?’ he says, playfully looking around. ‘Where?’

‘Ho ho!’ McDonald smiles, ‘okay, when things go back to normal around here, you’re on punishment duty. We’ll see how humorous you are after a week of scrubbing exhaust manifolds!’

Now Stewart laughs, but it is short lived. He grimaces and hisses through his teeth.

‘This bloody foot,’ he moans.

McDonald begins to get up.

‘Where are you going?’ Stewart asks.

‘There’s a first aid kit on the lower level. If we’re lucky, there’s hopefully a hypo-spray in there. Maybe we can ease your pain a little.’

Stewart smiles and nods, grateful.

‘Maybe you could have thought of that before we sparked up our conversation?’ he jokes.

‘I know, I’m so ditsy sometimes. It must be the gas. Clouding my judgement.’

‘Aye, that must be it.’

McDonald laughs again as she walks over to the ladder to take her down to the lower level. She steps over something on her way, but she pays it no attention.

‘Keep it up,’ she playfully warns, ‘if one week scrubbing manifolds isn’t enough for you..?’

Stewart laughs. McDonald begins to descend the ladder.

‘I’ll be right back,’ she smiles.

‘Miss you already!’ Stewart calls after her.

McDonald laughs and disappears out of sight.

Stewart sits alone, and still. Deathly still, and deathly pale, and dead, as he has been the entire time, since McDonald found him that way. His black eyes are blank and fixed on something a few metres away from him. Something that used to belong to him. The something that McDonald had casually stepped over. His severed foot. A trail of blood leads from the foot to a bigger pool of blood. Stewart’s blood. His limp, lifeless body sits in the pool, and very, very slowly, begins to slide down the work station to one side, until it flops onto the floor. His blood trickles down through the deck plating to the floor below.

The sound of feet on ladder rungs rings out through engineering. McDonald returning.

‘We’re in luck,’ she calls, ‘I found the hypospray.’

She reaches the second level and steps onto the platform. She notices Stewart has slumped onto the floor and rushes over to him.

‘Hey!’ she says, and gently sits him back up. ‘Sleeping on the job!? That’s definitely two weeks of scrubbing manifolds now!’

‘I wasn’t sleeping, I was checking my eyelids for holes,’ Stewart chuckles.

McDonald laughs too, relieved to hear his jovial voice again.

‘Seriously though,’ she says, ‘don’t fall asleep on me, okay? Try to remain conscious.’

‘Aye, Maam,’ Stewart smiles.

‘Here,’ she says, reaching out and administering the hypospray to the side of Stewart’s neck. ‘This should help.’

‘Thanks,’ he says.

McDonald takes her seat again and gazes over at Stewart.

‘We’ll get you fixed up properly,’ she promises him, ‘when everything goes back to normal.’

McDonald gazes off into the distance, shivers and hugs her body. She begins to rock herself.

‘Come on, Donald,’ she says, distantly, ‘tell me another joke.’

There is a short silent pause, although, not so short to prevent reality creeping back into McDonald’s mind.

‘Donald?’ she asks, afraid, slowly turning to him.

‘Okay, I’ve got one, this will make you laugh,’ Stewart says, finally, making McDonald smile, and she continues to rock back and forward, ‘here’s a cracker for you…’

STARDATE – ?????.?

Captain Amity awakens suddenly with a gasp and sits up. She takes a moment to reacquaint herself with reality. She is in another science lab, still on deck two, on top of a work bench. She remembers the attack. The phaser fire.

Two figures stand by her side, looking down at her with haggard, worried expressions on their faces. She knows those faces. It’s Mark Matthews and Joshua Jamieson. But there is something odd about them. Their eyes are completely black.

‘Black eyes!’ Amity blurts, panicked.

‘Easy,’ Matthews says, holding up his hands, ‘relax, our eyes are all the same. Some kind of adverse reaction.’

‘Captain, how are you?’ Jamieson asks.

‘I’ve been better…’ she grumbles, slowly trying to get off the bench. She groans.

‘Easy, Cal,’ Matthews says, resting a hand on her shoulder.

An impulse Amity can’t understand causes her to quickly reach up and brush his hand off her shoulder. He looks wounded but tries to hide it. But Amity has bigger concerns than her relationship with Matthews, like her throbbing headache and the stinging, painful sensation from the side of her face. She hisses and reaches up for it, gently feeling her skin. There are four deep scratches across her right cheek.

‘Yeah, you took quite a blow,’ Matthews informs her, ‘I’ve stopped the bleeding and treated the wound.’

Amity eyeballs Matthews for a moment, with a raised eye-brow.

‘Thank you,’ she nods.

Matthews holds out a hypospray.

‘It’s just a mild analgesic.’

Amity glances down at his offer. She glances back up at Matthews, hesitant. Matthews smiles and sighs.

‘You don’t trust me?’

Amity lets out a short dry chortle, but then hardens, fast.

‘I’m going to ask you once and I want a straight answer, I think I deserve that after all these years that we have been…since we’ve known…look, just answer the damn question, alright?’

Matthews grins.

‘You haven’t asked it yet.’

‘Are you responsible for what has happened on this ship?’

‘Oh boy,’ Jamieson mumbles, taking a slow, delicate step backwards.

Matthews continues to grin.

‘Do you mean everything? The void…the Immaru… the lunch menu..?’

‘You know what I mean, damn it, Mark, I said I wanted a straight answer!’ Amity yells.

‘Yes!’ Matthews yells, back, his grin dropping.

Amity is stunned. Hurt.

‘And, no,’ Matthews adds.

‘Right,’ Amity says, trying to shuffle off the work-bench, ‘if you can’t give me a straight answer…I’ve got no time for your games…’

‘I was going to mutiny,’ Matthews blurts, halting Amity, ‘I had it all planned, we…had it all planned, me and…some others…’

‘How many others? Who? I want their names.’

‘Does that really matter now? I wasn’t the only one, is the point I’m making, that felt that a change of leadership and direction was sorely needed on this ship.’

‘Ha!’ Amity scoffs, fuming. ‘And you took it upon yourself to promote yourself to Captain? As if you could do a better job?’

‘I…realise…’

‘You haven’t even been an officer, an active member of this crew, for months, and now you think you can take over? Betray your colleagues, your…friends? Mutiny? What’s the matter, Mark, were you getting a bit bored down there on deck ten? Swinging parties and babbling shite to your flock wasn’t enough for you? Thought you might spice things up a bit with a cheeky wee mutiny!?’

‘I was willing to do what had to be done! It’s just so typical of you, storming ahead, and blinkered by alcohol, and meanwhile your crew are falling apart and out of their minds with despair and fear about the aliens, about the awful situation that they put us in. So who is really to blame, here, Cal? Who put all of this in motion?’

Amity takes a moment to compose herself and consider Matthews’ words.

‘Fair point. The…alcohol…the crew…I took my finger off the pulse. I thought if I projected confidence, show strength on the outside, make firm choices, that the crew would respond in kind. I obviously wasn’t paying enough attention to the crew’s deeper concerns, and I share some of those concerns. The Immaru, the Elder, yes, they have extraordinary, dangerous, power and we got a taste of that power, first hand, but we were working, together, to solve that. The Immaru are not perfect, in fact I’ve very recently been finding out a few…troubling…things about them, but if either of them wanted us dead, they could have destroyed us at any moment. They, just like us, are in a desperate situation that is out of their control. But, I believe that Leenda Valda and the Elder are not a risk to us. They’re still inside the dampening field. It works, Mark. And it was Leenda Valda’s recommendation to create the reinforced quarters, again, for our protection. In fact, I really think they do care about us, Leenda especially.’

‘She did save your life on the bridge not so long ago,’ Jamieson adds.

Matthews turns to Jamieson, recalling the moment.

‘The Immaru may have saved all our lives,’ Amity goes on, ‘our entire species.’

‘I’m…grateful to Leenda Valda,’ Matthews nods, ‘really, I am. I know that now. But, for a while, when I was at my lowest, I deeply resented her for that very reason. I wished that that reptile son of a bitch had killed me, and put me out of my misery!’

Matthews turns away, upset.

Amity and Jamieson remain quiet.

‘God, I’ve made a mess of things,’ Matthews, says, softly. ‘It was all so hopeless…it all just fell apart…I…thought I had to do…something…radical, extreme…’

‘But mutiny?’ Amity asks, gently. ‘Why couldn’t you just come to me, talk to me?’

Matthews turns to Amity.

‘I…just felt so far, from you, from everyone, from…myself. The void had emptied me out. I didn’t know who I was anymore. All that time, those months of flying off the rail. Some of the ideas in my head were overwhelming. I felt at odds with everyone. I thought I could see the future. I was so…lost. Lonely, regardless of…who…I was with.’

Amity sighs.

‘So, you released the gas and killed the main computer, killed Harold?’

‘Actually, no. The plan was to release the gas, yes, but only enough to lightly incapacitate the crew, to smooth the…transition.’

‘Of course,’ Jamieson adds, taking a step forward, with a finger in the air, ‘by transition he means mutiny, or what was the word you used, Captain, betrayal?’ he smiles, always eager to help.

Amity sighs and just shakes her head at him.

‘Ah,’ Jamieson says, his smile dropping. He looks from Amity to Matthews and notices Matthews’ unequivocally unimpressed expression. He slowly steps back again. He notices his finger, still in the air, and quickly lowers it.

Matthews just stares at him in that curious way, somewhat questioning evolution.

‘So, what went wrong?’ Amity asks Matthews.

‘I don’t know,’ Matthews says, still gazing at Jamieson, ‘hasn’t he always been like that?’

‘I’m talking about the gas. You miscalculated the dosage?’

‘Massie,’ Matthews says, turning to Amity, with real scorn in his voice, ‘that’s what went wrong.’

‘Massie?’ Amity asks, confused.

Matthews opens his mouth to continue.

‘Who is a Reptoid, that tried to kill me, by the way,’ Jamieson adds, quickly stepping forward with his helpful finger.

Matthews huffs at the interruption and turns to him.

‘Which…’ Jamieson mumbles, quickly stepping back again, ‘can wait.’

‘A Reptoid?’ Amity asks.

‘Cal,’ Matthews says, with urgency in his voice, ‘it was Massie who released the gas, a massive dose. He was only supposed to seal the aliens in their quarters. I’m going to hazard a guess here, it was probably him that killed the main computer too. He just…went rogue on us. He took us all by surprise. I never wanted…all this.’

Amity sits in quiet contemplation, her eyes darting back and forth as she thinks.

‘Massie,’ she whispers, shaking her head. ‘I should have seen it coming with him. But the Immaru took priority. I thought they were the greater threat.’ She looks up at Matthews. ‘So, Massie was part of your…mutiny?’

Matthews nods.

‘Or, so I thought.’

‘Who else was part of the mutiny? Amity asks. She turns to Jamieson.

‘Not me, Maam,’ he protests.

Matthews just smirks.

‘I couldn’t risk letting Jamieson anywhere near our operation. I mean, granted, it’s pretty bad now, but we’d all be surely dead if Jamieson had been involved.’

‘Thanks for your vote of confidence in me,’ Jamieson huffs.

Amity suddenly looks distraught.

‘There’s only one person on this ship that could have made a compound like this,’ she realises.

Matthews clicks.

‘No,’ he says, shaking his head, ‘Gus wasn’t part of the mutiny.’

Amity looks relieved. She deflates slightly.

‘Well, is he okay, have you seen him, since..?’

‘He’s…safe, for now.’

Amity nods and doesn’t feel like exploring the ambiguity in Matthews’ answer.

‘So, he created the compound and..?’

‘He made the compound, yes,’ Matthews explains, now looking glum, ‘but it was…Leah White who stole it from his office.’

‘White!?’ Amity blurts.

Jamieson steps forward, raising his trusty finger.

‘If I see that interrupting finger of yours one more time…’ Matthews warns, without looking at him.

Jamieson fingers crumbles. He retreats.

‘Let me guess,’ Amity jokes, humouring Jamieson, ‘Leah White, she’s a Reptoid too?’

Matthews rolls his eyes as Jamieson shuffles on the spot remaining tight-lipped. Amity can see Jamieson is biting his tongue. She is curious.

‘Ensign?’

‘Permission to speak?’ Jamieson asks, smirking at Matthews.

‘Out with it, Ensign,’ Amity orders.

Jamieson takes a step forward and a breath, and opens his mouth to explain.

‘He thinks Massie and White are Reptoids,’ Matthews blurts, ‘despite the fact that we’re breathing in a psychotropic gas that’s causing us all to hallucinate and act strangely, even causing some of us to attack and murder each other.’

Amity is shocked. She reaches up and touches her wounded face. She recalls some of the bodies of the crew she had discovered on her journey.

‘Murder?’ she asks, gravely.

Matthews grimaces.

‘I take it you have not been to the canteen in a while?’ he says.

‘Dead bodies, Captain,’ Jamieson whispers, ‘everywhere. Mutilated and murdered.’

Amity looks devastated. She turns to Matthews, who just nods, grimly.

‘How many?’ she asks, barely keeping it together.

Matthews shakes his head.

‘A lot,’ he says, softly.

Amity flies into a rage and jumps off the work bench. As she stands, her head throbs and spins. The room pulses to and fro as if they were all caught in an underwater current. Her legs wobble. Matthews grabs her by the shoulders, holding her steady. She shakes her head, regaining her balance. She pulls away from Mark.

‘Get your damn hands off me! For Christ sake, Mark! If it’s not a sentient computer wanting to kill us, or corrupt leaders from an alien race, it’s each other, on a drug-induced rampage of mutiny and murder! As if our situation could possibly get any worse, and more hopeless, and now you tell me there has been some sort of massacre in the canteen!? And how many more? I’ve already encountered other members of the crew…dead? Murdered? Unconscious? And I swore to protect these people. I swore to myself that I would get them home!’

Amity breaks down for a moment. Jamieson looks down at the deck plating, emotional too. She looks up at Matthews.

‘Are we the only ones left, semi-sane…alive?’

Matthews looks bleak.

‘I haven’t come across anyone, yet…’ he says. ‘Like I said, Massie took us all by surprise.’

‘I encountered Commander Jackson, Maam. Not long after I awoke from the gas attack.’

Amity looks hopeful.

‘Is he okay? Where is he?’

‘I can’t be certain. I shot him twice with my phaser and left him for dead in a turbo lift,’ Jamieson explains, rather brusquely.

Amity’s hope morphs into bemusement. She and Matthews just stare at Jamieson, bewildered by the paradox of his constant inconsistencies.

‘He…also tried to kill me,’ Jamieson goes on. ‘Possessed by the effects of the gas, obviously.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that,’ Matthews smirks. ‘Maybe he just spent enough time with you and came to the logical conclusion that such an abomination must be destroyed as soon as possible?’

Amity laughs out loud, but then quickly stops herself.

‘Sorry, Ensign…’ she smiles, sympathetically.

Jamieson just shrugs.

‘I don’t know, Captain, maybe Commander Jackson will recover? Maybe the effects of the compound will wear off?’ he suggests. ‘The affected crew, the unconscious…maybe they’ll be okay?’

‘How did you both escape the gas?’ Amity asks.

‘Just lucky I guess,’ Jamieson offers.

‘We both had breathing apparatus,’ Matthews explains. ‘We only suffered the residual effects of the gas. I imagine the rest of the crew, maybe even Massie himself, took the full effects.’

Amity considers her crew. What is left of them. She becomes angry.

‘Massie, you bastard,’ she mutters.

‘We think it was him who attacked you,’ Matthews says.

Amity reaches up and touches her wounded face.

He…did this?’

‘He attacked me in the canteen too, Captain,’ Jamieson confirms. ‘If it hadn’t been for the Commander stumbling upon us when he did, Massie would have surely killed me too.’

‘Massie is a bastard alright, but he’s a tough bastard,’ Matthews warns. ‘He’s taken a couple of phaser blasts and still managed to get away. He’s still out there, on the ship somewhere.’

‘Well, look,’ Amity huffs, ‘we can deal with Massie later, and believe me, I will deal with him, but, our main priority at the moment is to restore main power. Get Harold back online. I was on my way to the bridge when you found me.’

‘That’s where we were heading,’ Jamieson says.

‘Well, we had better make sure we deal with Massie sooner, rather than later, or he will deal with us,’ Matthews warns.

Amity’s anger turns to confusion. She looks at Matthews, to query him, but he also looks curious, with his mouth open, poised for a question or two of his own.

‘Go on,’ she nods.

‘I…’ Matthews pauses, raising an eyebrow, ‘couldn’t help but notice during your mini-rant that you mentioned something about…corrupt alien leaders trying to kill us? Care to…elaborate on that?’

Now Amity rolls her eyes.

‘Ensign, grab your phaser and your flashlight. You’re with me.’

‘Maam?’ Jamieson asks, startled.

Amity turns to Matthews.

‘Will you…help us?’

‘Of course,’ Matthews answers, quickly, screwing up his face.

Amity just stares at him for a moment. He stares back.

‘Don’t say of course as if you’re offended by the question,’ Amity says. ‘I asked for your help with the crew, recently, remember? You said you would help then, and all along you were lying to my face, plotting mutiny.’

Matthews looks down at the floor.

‘Fair point,’ he utters. He glances back up at Amity. A tear streams down his cheek. ‘You know, we have gone through so much on this ship, this…trek…but I think the worst thing, for me, was losing your trust. Your…friendship.’

Amity’s chin trembles as she fights her own emotions. But fight them she does.

‘Will you ever learn to trust me again?’ Matthews asks.

Amity stares into his eyes. She very slowly approaches him and pauses a foot away. She cocks her head to one side, exposing her neck. Matthews looks at her, puzzled. Then the penny drops. He looks down at the hypospray in his hand. He looks back into Amity’s black eyes and sees a reflection of his own smiling face. He reaches up and administers the analgesic. Amity straightens up.

‘Jefferies tube seventeen,’ she says.

Matthews just blinks at her.

‘Let’s move.’ Amity commands as she heads for the door. Jamieson looks at Matthews and awkwardly shrugs. He follows Amity.

‘You still haven’t answered my question,’ Matthews calls to her, ‘about the aliens?’

‘I’ll tell you about it on the way,’ she says, over her shoulder. She turns to Jamieson. ‘And maybe you can tell me all about these Reptoids of yours.’

Matthews takes off after them.

 

SUPPLEMENTAL

 

Kitty McDonald looks down at the steaming pool of brown bile that she has not long vomited up, and grimaces. She groans, spits, wipes her chin and stands up straight. The room, main engineering, begins to spin slightly. The effects of the gas and pangs of thirst and hunger have made her extremely nauseous. That, and fear.

‘This is why I never wanted children. I couldn’t do the morning sickness,’ she reminds herself. ‘Or join the navy…seasickness? No thanks. Or…imagine being pregnant on a navy ship…’

What little colour in her face drains and McDonald dry bokes which makes a retching sound very much like the mating call of a Bardakian pronghorn moose. She tries to catch her breath.

‘I hope there are no moose on board,’ she whispers, laughing to herself, trying to raise her own spirits. She realises that some of the things she has witnessed on her journey, from the Immaru’s quarters to main engineering on deck seven, makes the possibility of a moose wandering in highly likely.

She too has been hallucinating. She too has been gripped by an ancient fear. Survival of the fittest. She had already fought off deranged crew members beset on trying to claw her face open with their bare hands.

She looks down at her uniform. Blood-stained. She stretches her own hands out and looks at the dried blood on them. A memory rushes back into her mind. Finally stumbling into engineering and bumping into her work colleague, Remo Machowski. They had worked together almost every day, and she was so glad to see him, at first, but it wasn’t long before she found out he was like the others. Black eyes. Out of his mind, deadly. He instantly clamped his hands around her neck and squeezed so hard she was sure she heard something snap. She doesn’t remember how the decoupler got in her hand, all she can remember is his piercing scream when she drove the handle end deep into Remo’s eye socket.

McDonald snaps out of her reverie with a jolt. She nervously looks around the room when she hears the echo of that scream. She glances over at a corpse on the floor, a few feet away, and gently rubs her neck with one hand. She glances at other bodies, scattered here and there, lying on the deck plating. She had checked all six of them. All dead. Apparently, her neck wasn’t the only one Remo had gotten his hands around.

She rushes over to a work station and tries again to tap in command codes. Somewhere inside her mind she knows it won’t work. She knows that Captain Amity will have to restore main power on the bridge before any of the consoles in engineering will function, the reason they split up in the first place, but that was hours ago, and still nothing. She frantically taps at the console, regardless. She isn’t even thinking about codes anymore, she’s just punching the console with her fist.

‘Come on, you piece of shit, is everything broken in this god-awful metal coffin!?’ she cries out into the air, exasperated.

She slumps down onto the floor and hugs her knees. Her eyes dart back and forth as she considers that she might be the last member of the crew alive.

‘The Captain would have made it by now,’ she mumbles, ‘maybe she is having difficulty restoring main power, maybe I should have gone with her, to the bridge first…maybe I still could?’

McDonald glances at the ajar doors to engineering. The corridor outside is darker and uninviting. She shakes her head, erratically.

‘I can’t go back out there…’ she whispers.

She stares ahead, bug-eyed, postponing a trip to the bridge.

‘Maybe the Captain didn’t make it? Maybe she is dead? Maybe I am… maybe Remo killed me after all…and this is some kind of twisted afterlife?’

She feels alone, scared, empty. She begins to sob, and rock herself. As she rocks back and forth, she can hear the distant sound of a woman’s voice singing a soft lullaby. McDonald gasps and freezes. She holds her breath.

List’ to the curlew cryin-o’
Faint are the echos dyin-o’
Even the birdies and the beasties are sleepin’
But my bonny bairnie is weepin’ weepin’

McDonald knows that song. A song that was sang to her as a child.

‘Mother?’ she calls.

Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell
Angus is coming wi’ dreams to sell
Hush now wee bairnie and sleep without fear
For Angus will bring you a dream, my dear

She knows it is a hallucination, but tears stream down her face. She wonders if she will ever see her mother again. She pines for home, a time when all her family was together. She’s never felt so alone. She thinks about being in the quarters with Amity and Leenda Valda and how it was so much better than where she is now. How she would give anything to be back there, even with the Elder.

The sweet voice sings on.

Sweet the laverock sings at morn
Heraldin’ in a bright new dawn
Wee lambs, they coorie doon together
Along wi’ their ewies in the heather

McDonald sits alone in the large expanse of the darkened room and hugs her legs harder and gently weeps.

‘Please stop!’ she cries out, to the singing voice in her head. ‘Please!’

Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell
Angus is here wi’ dreams to sell
Hush ye my bairnie and sleep without fear
Dream Angus has brought you a dream my dear

‘I can’t take anymore of this!’

McDonald desperately covers her ears with her hands and frantically rocks back and forward.

‘Captain,’ she calls out, ‘please hurry!’

STARDATE – ?????.?

The stench in the canteen is unbearable. The smell of blood and gore. Death. Ensign Jamieson and Mark Matthews stand over the partially clothed and mutilated body of the cook. His facial features permanently frozen in an expression of terror. Jamieson had wanted to make a bee-line for the kitchen, grab some food, and make a sharp exit, but, through Matthews’ insistence, he has reluctantly agreed to show Matthews the carnage, mainly to prove that Massie was, indeed, a Reptoid, and, indeed, eating the cook. He shines his flashlight down at the body, grimacing. Matthews bends down to study the body. The cook’s body is turned almost inside out and stinks of raw decomposing matter from the contents of his shredded intestines.

‘Jesus,’ Matthews says, quietly, covering his nose and trying not to gag. ‘He looks like he’s been torn to shreds.’

‘You see?’ Jamieson whispers.

‘That doesn’t prove anything. A man with a knife could have done this. An evil man, granted.’

‘Evil?’

Matthews squints and points to the cook’s carcass.

‘This isn’t evil?’

‘Well, we eat meat.’

‘And?’ Matthews sighs.

‘If the Reptoid is an animal from the earth, like us, surely this is what comes naturally to it. I would hardly call that evil. You can’t just suddenly demonise the food chain just because you’ve been kicked off the top spot. Why is it okay for the human animal to eat another animal, but a Reptoid animal can’t eat a human animal? Seems…a bit hypocritical to me.’

Matthews shakes his head and opens his mouth to respond, but can’t think of a valid argument.

‘But you can’t be certain that a Reptoid did this. And, I just can’t believe you would reduce a man by referring to him as meat!’

‘Humans used to be prey, for other predators, big cats for example, the…sabre tooth tiger? If that beast got a hold of you…you weren’t just meat, you were dead meat.’

‘Yes but we’re different to other animals, you can’t compare a human to a…chicken or a pig.’

‘A pig is a sentient, intelligent animal that thinks and feels on the level of a human toddler. We wouldn’t exploit a human toddler, and send it to the slaughterhouse, because we know that the cruelty and suffering it would go through would be immense and immoral. And yet, we send the pig. We call it meat. We actually hide its true identity to create a disconnect with our empathy by renaming it pork! It’s a pig, it’s an animal, it’s a living, breathing, thinking, feeling, animal, like us! And if you think about it, Commander, none of it is necessary for nutrition or enjoyment of food, not with today’s abundance and technology. So we engage in unnecessary violence and murder, for a short-lived taste sensation? Sheesh, if that isn’t evil, I don’t know what is!?’

Matthews looks taken-aback by Jamieson’s logic, and, ultimately, frustrated that it hits a little too close to home.

‘Y’know, Jamieson…’

‘No!’ Jamieson blurts, loudly. ‘Do you know, Matthews…’

‘Ssssh,’ Matthews says, scanning the canteen, ‘okay, you’ve got a good point, but let’s not get us slaughtered making it.’

Jamieson huffs.

‘Look, can we please just grab the food and get out of here now? Before I lose my appetite altogether. Maybe there’s some ham…or beef…’

Matthews stands up and smiles cynically at Jamieson. But then he looks dazed. He shakes his head and wobbles on his feet.

‘The gas?’ Jamieson asks.

‘Yeah, that, or maybe I should join you for dinner. Tell me, have you always had two heads?’

Jamieson’s eyes widen.

‘Definitely the gas,’ he says, ‘but I dare say some food would do you the world of good too.’

They hurry to the kitchen, trying not to make too much noise. They push open the larder door and step inside. Jamieson finds fruit, bananas and mangoes, and bread. He immediately bites into the mango. It may be the best thing he has ever eaten.

‘Hey,’ he calls to Matthews, with a wide smile and juice running down his chin, ‘don’t eat a man, eat a mango!’

‘Hilarious,’ Matthews says, scooping up a banana. ‘Try telling that to your Reptoid friend, Massie.’

They eat, rather ravenously, for a short time, watching each other with suspicious eyes as though silently accusing each other of coveting each other’s portion, and then carefully make their way out of the canteen. They move, with an energised urgency, down the corridor towards the turbo lift shaft. As they round the bend, they freeze when they see a figure standing at the open doorway to the lift shaft. They hug the wall, just out of sight. Matthews pops his head out to see what’s going on. The figure, in uniform, appears to be checking out the lift shaft, and mounts the ladder and climbs upwards, in one quick motion. Matthews does a double take when he thinks he sees a tail trailing behind the figure. He slowly pulls his head back in. Jamieson sees the distressed look on Matthews’ face.

‘What is it?’ Jamieson whispers.

Matthews shakes his head again.

‘Must be the gas…’ he mumbles.

‘Commander?’

‘You did see a figure at the end of the corridor, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘And there was nothing…strange…about it, right?’

‘Commander?’

Matthews shakes his head.

‘Never mind. Whatever it wa…whoever…it was,’ he says, quickly correcting his parapraxis, ‘has climbed up the ladder.’

‘Same way we’re headed,’ Joshua grimaces, pulling out his phaser.

‘Be vigilant,’ Matthews says, holding his own phaser up.

They slowly approach the lift entrance.

 

SUPPLEMENTAL

 

Captain Amity slowly creeps through the corridor on deck two, gripped with fear. The effects of the gas are taking a toll. She has already encountered several crew members, unconscious or dead. And the dead, going by the state of the bodies, have clearly been killed by someone else. She figures that either another viscous murderer is aboard, or the crew have turned on each other. Either scenario is cause for the utmost concern. Amity has been trying to draw on her training, her experience, her strength. But she can’t help but dwell on fear and doubt and paranoia. And she has an awful feeling that she is being followed. Stalked.

She quickly checks over her shoulder again and gasps when she thinks she sees a shadowy figure, just out of sight down the dark corridor. She turns and picks up her pace, convincing herself more and more, that someone, or something, is behind her, chasing her down. And it wants to get her. Hurt her. Kill her. Now in a flourishing panic, Amity spots an open doorway to an unknown room, up ahead. She quickly steps inside. In the dim murky light, she recognises that she is in a science laboratory. A geological lab. She hurries to a work station and ducks down, hidden, out of sight. Her heart pounds in her chest and she desperately tries to slow her breathing.

‘Calm yourself, Captain,’ she whispers to herself, taking deep breaths.

She slowly begins to feel some control returning. For a moment she smiles, and feels silly, hiding from her imagination. She slowly peeks around the work station and looks out across the room, with the doorway in the distance. Amity’s breathing stops altogether. A dark figure stands outside the doorway in the corridor, looking in. Amity quickly ducks behind the work station again.

I WAS being followed! Who is it? What do they want? Did they see me?

Her questions vanish when she hears a long chilling hiss from the figure.

Amity is terrified. The kind of over-riding fear she hasn’t felt since she was a child, telling ghost stories with her friends. She takes small shallow breaths trying to stay as silent as possible. She hears a noise, faint at first but slowly getting louder. Louder and nearer. It’s breathing. Heavy and husky, as if a yar-bear was in the room.

What if it IS a bear? Of course it’s not! But…it hardly sounds human.

The breathing draws closer. Amity can sense that it’s right above her, on the opposite side of the work station.

It’s found me! It knows I’m here!

Amity thinks about making a run for it. A sudden bolt. But she is frozen with fear. She can’t move. A fine layer of sweat develops on her top lip, as she tries not to breathe.

Another spine-chilling hiss. So loud, Amity wants to cover her ears, if only she could budge.

Silence. No hiss. No breathing. Amity closes her eyes anticipating an attack at any moment.

Where is it? What is it doing?

Amity can hear another faint noise. From outside the room. She recognises the sounds.

Voices!?

And they are gradually getting louder.

Louder and closer!

Men’s voices, hushed.

Maybe some of the crew who made it?

She wants to call out to them. To scream. But she dare not. She very slowly looks above her, expecting to see her assailant, staring maniacally down at her. Nothing, but air and ceiling. She listens again. No sounds of breathing. Just the voices. She strains to hear.

‘…how is it my fault that the lift is blocking the doors to the bridge…?’

‘…most things are your fault, Jamieson, that’s what I’ve come to learn…’

Ensign Jamieson!? And I know that other voice, I’m certain that’s Mark. And, they both sound…okay…

Amity eases herself out of her rigid posture and very slowly peeks around the work station again. She quickly scans the room looking for someone, or something, for movement. Nothing.

Where did it go?

She glances at the doorway.

Make a dash for it?

She notices the corridor lighting up, outside.

Flashlight.

‘…we’ll have to take the Jefferies tubes to the bridge…’ the deeper voice says, as two dark figures, pass by the doorway.

Amity wants to call out to them, to run. She scans the room one last time. Still nothing.

Go! Now! Run!

She moves fast, up onto her feet. As she runs, she thinks she can see moving shadows from all over the room, closing in on her. The room seems to warp around her, the doorway stretching away from her. She wonders if she’ll ever catch up with it, if she’ll escape before something grabs her from behind. She can’t help but let out a fearful yelp as she finally reaches the doorway. She runs into the corridor and spots the two figures up ahead and halts.

‘Mark?’ she calls, warily.

The two figures spin around. The light dazzles Amity and she tries to shield her eyes with her hand.

‘Captain?’ Jamieson asks.

Amity is so relieved she bursts into a nervous bout of crying and laughing.

‘Cal,’ Mark says ‘are you okay?’

‘Yes,’ she says, smiling, trying to catch her breath.

‘Captain, look out!’ Jamieson yells, startling Amity. ‘Behind you!’

The fear returns with a vengeance. She turns, too late. A shadowy figure rushes out of the doorway and swings a hand at her face. She manages to raise an arm, but it’s not enough. She takes a powerful blow to the face, sending her tumbling across the corridor and crashing down onto the deck plating. The pain and the fast approaching unconsciousness isn’t enough to distract her from realising that her face has been cut with something sharp. She can taste her own blood. As everything fades to a blurry grey matrix, she can hear the sounds, and see the orange flashes, of phaser fire. Someone, or something, screeches. The last thing Amity sees before she passes out is the shadowy figure, bounding away down the corridor, towards the lift shaft, until it is out of sight, and the blackness envelopes her.

 

SUPPLEMENTAL

 

Brett Massie skulks through the corridor on deck three. He staggers through an open doorway into a recreational room. He hears movement from his left and turns to find a frenzied female crew member charging at him. She wails, and reaches out for him. Although weakened, Massie manages to dispatch her with a well-timed and well-placed swipe of his hand. His claws rake the Ensign’s neck, severing her jugular. She immediately grabs her neck, and falls to her knees, as blood gushes out between her fingers. She flops forward and hits the deck hard, gargling and squirming and slowly bleeding out. Massie hisses and watches her die for a moment and then proceeds to search for a first aid kit. He looks inside the drawers of a work station and finds a medi-pack. There is a small vial of analgesic and a hypospray available. He loads the hypospray and administers the pain relief. He sits for a moment letting the drug take effect. He holds his shoulder, the source of his pain. A phaser blast.

Almost, Captain. You would have been mine if it hadn’t been for that son of bitch Matthews, and that little shit Jamieson. And to think I nearly nailed the little bastard in the canteen, if someone hadn’t come to his rescue. Now I know it was my former sweetheart, Matthews. An unlikely tag-team.

‘Oh, they’re going to pay.’

Hiding behind their phasers. Without them they would be no match for me. They wouldn’t last half a minute with me in hand to hand combat.

‘Cowards! That’s what you have always been!’

They would dare to shoot me!? Dare deny me of my kill!?

He lifts his hand and studies it. His long black claws are blood-stained. He rolls his fingers and laughs.

‘Oh, I’m going to tear out their throats!’

And then feed! You must feed!

Massie glances at the dead Ensign and then back at his hand. He sticks his tongue out and licks up the length of one of his fingers, from knuckle to claw, tasting her blood.

‘Not bad,’ he shrugs, slowly getting up and approaching her twitching body. He looks down at her with wild black eyes and smirks. ‘You can be my starter.’

STARDATE – ?????.?

Leenda Valda stands at the far side of the Elder’s quarters, staring up at the message scrawled on the wall. She must have read it one hundred times. It keeps bringing up the same questions that she cannot answer. She could use a different perspective on her ponderings. Some suggestions that might help her understand. Or someone to simply talk to about it all would be nice. Anyone but the Elder. The Elder had paced for a while. She now rests against the window, gazing out, becoming more agitated with each silent moment that passes.

‘Are you just going to gawk at that wall forevermore, or are you going to speak to me like a civilised Immaru being?’

Valda doesn’t blink, nor avert her gaze.

‘The least you could do is acknowledge me when I speak to you,’ the Elder tries, ‘I can’t stand much more of this. This treatment…this silence…this…silent treatment of yours!’

Silence.

The Elder huffs.

‘Suit yourself then! We’ll just rattle around in here for the rest of eternity never uttering another word to each other then! Is that what you want!?’

Valda studies the message, unperturbed.

‘Oh this is ridiculous,’ the Elder protests, and begins pacing the perimeter of the room again. She pauses when she reaches Valda, and stands by her side. She too looks up and carefully reads the message. She sighs.

‘As soon as Amity takes back control and gets this ship operational again, I’m going straight back on the sauce.’

Valda bursts out laughing. So does the Elder. They laugh, long and hard, until tears roll down their human cheeks. The Elder is surprised and dabs her own face with the back of her hand.

‘I’m…leaking…’ the Elder laughs.

Valda nods and laughs, wiping her own tears.

‘How…peculiar!’ the Elder cries, as her laughter fades.

‘They have so many unique little quirks,’ Valda smiles.

‘Do you know,’ the Elder realises, ‘I have to say, I really love to laugh as a human? It’s such an endearing experience.’

Valda nods.

‘If you get to know them, actually take the time, there is so much more to love about their species.’

‘You really are their number one fan, aren’t you?’

Valda beams.

‘I see it,’ the Elder admits, ‘the potential. Why else would we have been observing them for so long? Considering them for so long? The humans have achieved a lot. Particularly giving birth to Harold. And I know they could go on to do many more great things. But within that potential, is the potential to do terrible things too. We’ve seen it firsthand. The humans are capable of both extremes. Harold being their penultimate example. Their genius created the very thing that would wipe them out. And not for the first time. I’m not sure if getting involved in their affairs was the right thing for us to do after all.’

‘Why not? It’s what our righteous species does, isn’t it? Aiding and nurturing civilisations for centuries, that’s the slogan back on the homeworld, isn’t it? All those stories about our people’s plight, our bold journey across the universe in the pursuit of a new start, a better tomorrow, to forge new principles based on peace and compassion, et cetera, et cetera, to seek out new life, other civilisations, to aid and nurture, but maybe not every civilisation that we grace ourselves upon, maybe not all civilisations are equal, some are clearly less significant, some would say disposable, I mean, there may even be the odd occasion where we find ourselves in a little too deep over our heads with a particular species and we lose control of the situation and end up having to pull the plug on them completely, swept under the carpet, Immaru ambassadors and all! But no, we would never do a thing like that. We’re not extreme like the humans. Our species doesn’t do terrible things like the humans!’

The Elder stares at Valda, surprised and squinting.

‘You realise you are..?’ the Elder says, pointing out, with a wagging finger, that Valda is glowing brightly.

Valda takes a breath and her glow fades.

‘Tell me,’ Valda says, trying to remain calm, ‘if you had left, before I got out, and the decision was made to seal the chamber, with me in it alongside the humans and Harold…would you have let it happen?’

The Elder stares at the wall, and reads the same line over and over. The keepers have become the captives. Valda grows impatient for an answer and huffs.

‘I’ll take your silence as a yes.’

‘You’re taking this all too personally.’

‘How else am I supposed to take it? They’ve left me here to die!’

‘They have left me too. This is politics. It’s corrupt, it’s brutal, but it’s rarely personal. In politics, anyone is expendable. Everyone. We are all disposable players in the Hierarchy’s power games. And the Prime Elder is the ruthless overseer. See, this is not a time for woe, you should be celebrating. Consider your bubble officially popped. Welcome to your awakening. But don’t let it end here. Use your disillusionment, your anger. Use it to push back at them.’

Valda tries a cynical smile, but it doesn’t feel comfortable.

‘I fear it is too little too late,’ Valda shrugs. ‘How am I supposed to push back, trapped in here forevermore?’ she asks, waving her hand at the message.

‘Oh, I’m sure the Captain will succeed in…’

‘I’m not talking about this room, I’m talking about the chamber. We’re never getting out of here, are we?’

The Elder turns to Valda and gives her that sympathetic look again.

‘Dear oh dear. What happened to the bright and bubbly optimist?’

Valda sighs, glum. The Elder rolls her eyes and sighs too.

‘There…may be a way out,’ she states.

Valda perks up and awaits more.

There is a short moment of silence, and…

…anticipation.

‘Go on!’ Valda blurts.

The Elder sighs again.

‘You might as well continue on your journey of enlightenment. The…other time I spoke of, when an isolation chamber was sealed?

Valda nods, eager for more.

‘We were engaging in a first contact scenario with a species called Deludeans, a deeply spiritual race. Their belief system was limited. They believed that there were only organic beings in the universe, like them. They had never seen anything like us before. Beings of light. Our abilities. Eventually, they…through their teachings…they thought we were Gods. Maybe not their God, but God-like beings. Godly enough for them to start worshiping us. We tried to explain, of course, we are not Gods. But they thought we were testing their faith. Everything we tried just seemed to solidify their faith in us. We had a different Prime Elder at the time who had been enjoying a long string of successful first contacts. Upon learning that first contact with the Deludeans was bordering on failure, a decision was made to enlighten them further by pointing out the errors in their interpretations of their beliefs. This led them to believe that they had failed us, and a short time later, in a final ceremony of atonement, they committed mass suicide.’

Valda gasps.

‘Two thousand souls. Gone,’ the Elder says, gravely. ‘Of course, with the luxury of hindsight we realised that there was a massive oversight on our part. Mistakes were made. There was, clearly, not enough study and research done into their faith, their history. And now the Prime Elder and the Hierarchy had a disaster on their hands. A decision was made to seal the chamber. To bury the failure, the Deludeans, and a small group of our own people, but present it to the homeworld as another success. The Prime Elder’s winning streak, unbroken. You see, ambition can oftentimes bring out the worst in someone, and I was blinded by it back then. I was the Prime Elder. I made the decision to seal the chamber.’

Valda is shocked.

‘You?’ she whispers.

‘There is a certain responsibility that comes with being the Prime Elder. A responsibility to placate and paint a certain picture. A picture of progress and success. Our people need to feel that we have learned a great deal from our past mistakes. That we’ve grown, evolved. We’re not who we used to be. They also need to feel redemption. For the sacrifices we made when we left our origin home world. All those billions left to die. The guilt, the despair was insufferable. We knew we couldn’t reach a lower point in our history. That from that point, things could only get better for our species. And gradually they did. But the guilt lingers. So we push on, driven by it. Driven by a need for absolution. And for so long, we just kept growing, improving. One success after another. We thought we could do no wrong, nothing like the peccancy of our ancient past. We couldn’t let one mistake, one blight like the Deludeans, tarnish our impeccable vision of ourselves, our glorious pursuit of righteousness.’

Valda is stunned. She opens her mouth to comment. But nothing comes out. She shakes her head, gazing into space, lost in a cascade of thought. There is an odd ache in her chest. She reaches up and gently rubs her solar-plexus.

‘I think I now truly know what the humans mean by heartbroken,’ she says, softly.

‘My heart was broken, a long, long time ago, the heart of our very species was broken, a long, long time ago. We’ve been repairing it ever since. Who was I to tear it open again with another tragedy?’

‘You should have told the truth!’ Valda yells, ‘the Deludeans deserved that much. Our people deserved that much. How are we supposed to learn from our mistakes if they are covered up?’

The Elder raises her eyebrows and nods.

‘You’re right, of course. But it was too late. One of the Elder’s, an ambitious administrator under my command, had collected up and destroyed all evidence of the sorry affair. What I didn’t know is that the administrator had duplicated the evidence, and would later go on to blackmail me into stepping down as Prime Elder. Which, I did. And that administrator has been our Prime Elder ever since.’

‘Oh, it’s vile!’ Valda cries. ‘It’s despicable! To think I looked up to the Hierarchy, all this time. Put my trust in them. To think I wanted to become part of it, become an Elder. But having learned the truth, how could I ever…’

‘It doesn’t end there.’

‘Wonderful!’ Valda exclaims.

‘Guilt, and especially guilt on top of guilt can do one of two things. It can kill you, eat you up. Or, it can set you on a path of redemption. Sometime after the new Prime Elder took power, I petitioned the Hierarchy to launch a rescue mission. We could not save the Deludeans, of course, but we could save our own people. The petition was rejected. They claimed that once the isolation chamber had been sealed, it could not be reopened again. I began working with a talented engineer, a child, really, but, exceptionally bright, who came up with a device, something called a polaric generator, that could create a rift in subspace, essentially punching a hole through the chamber, allowing our people to escape. I took the device direct to the Prime Elder. Explained how we had created it and its use. The PE took it from me assuring me that it would be passed on to the Hierarchy and our top engineers, and expressed optimism that if it works, we would begin a rescue mission as soon as possible. A very short time later I learned that that the young engineer was killed in an unfortunate accident. Details of the cause of death were never revealed but we both know how difficult it is for one of our people to be killed, it must have been some accident. Of course, the device never resurfaced and there was no rescue mission. The Prime Elder buried it all, as I had buried the Deludean mission and our people. The bit that gets to me the most is that the young engineer was killed simply as a warning to me.’

Valda looks positively depressed.

‘You know,’ she says, flatly, ‘if the Captain does manage to return things to normal, I think I will join you in, whole-heartedly, going back on the sauce.’

‘So you see, it’s nothing personal. Anyone and everyone is expendable when it comes to the Hierarchy’s dangerous game of politics, and the Prime Elder’s belligerence and determination to cling to power.’

‘Well, it certainly feels personal,’ Valda says, glowing slightly. ‘I’m livid!’

‘As well you should be. Our people need to be made aware of the mistakes we’ve made. We need our people to be informed, so they can shape our civilisation and not be led by the worst of us. We need change. We need members of the Hierarchy who are principled and compassionate, not ruthless and ambitious. Or else, I fear that we won’t be the last victims to be swept under the carpet.

‘Hang on,’ Valda squints, ‘you said there may be a way out of here?’

‘Maybe.’

‘The equipment you asked for,’ Valda says, wide-eyed, ‘the communication device?’

The Elder tilts her head to one side.

‘Not exactly. You see, if I get the equipment I need, I think I can construct another polaric generator.’

Although she feels a glimmer of hope, Valda grimaces at the Elder.

‘Well, why lie to the humans about it? Why tell them you wish to construct a communication device instead?’

‘I didn’t want to get their hopes up to be dashed. I’m not completely confident I can recreate the device, or if it will work, to my knowledge it was never tested. And even if it does work I seriously doubt the humans would be able to escape through the rift. Only you and I can.’

Valda looks dubious.

‘I won’t leave them behind,’ she states.

‘Once we are free, we can work on releasing the humans.’

‘Is that another empty promise from the Hierarchy?’

The Elder sighs.

‘I didn’t have to tell you any of this, did I? But I opened up to you. Told you the truth. You will just have to trust me.’

‘Right now, I can honestly say I trust certain members of this crew more than anyone from my own people.’

There is a long silent pause as they both stare up at the message on the wall. Valda reads the last word, over and over.

Forevermore. Forevermore. Forevermore. Forevermore. Forevermore. For…

‘Okay, equipment,’ she says, turning to the Elder, ‘what exactly do you need?’