The Criminon Effect, Chapter 5
Title: The Criminon Effect, Chapter 5
Fandom: Star Trek: TOS
Characters: Hikaru Sulu/Pavel Chekov
Prompt: 06.Resign
Word Count: 978
Rating: PG
Summary: In this multi-prompt episodic adventure, the crew of NCC 1701 are faced with a fanatical enemy with powers unlike anything they've yet encountered.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. :(
Notes: There will be links to proceeding and preceding chapters as the story updates.
Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
The ship was moving, but not by any will or power aboard. She was drifting like a log in a fast current, sweeping into view of the dingy-blue Khanate and pausing for only a moment, their shadows combining in the crossed-starlight like two Rorschach inkblots completing an intricate tango.
Onboard, the piercing shriek had died away nearly half an hour ago, but what their ears had first missed from the abuse was the new thrumming vibration that ran along every wall and floor, as if the metal of the ship was harmonically tuning itself to that of its neighbor. It was only a gentle rattle, but enough to make cups ambulatory and teeth shiver.
“Captain,” Spock said quietly, looking up from his new position at Chekov’s abandoned station, “It would appear that our course is being subtly shifted. We are now drifting 2 degrees starboard per second, differential dropping precipitously.”
“Mr. Leslie, where will that put us?” Kirk asked without turning his head to face the officer jogging back and forth behind him, trying to complete the jobs of two other officers on top of his own.
The crew had slowly begun trickling into the sick bay, asking for headache medications and fatigue relievers, complaining of sore joints and teeth, but McCoy wasn’t in the mood to play doctor when he had a more serious patient on his hands. Chekov had not made any signs of recovery since being evacced from the bridge, and instead seemed to be pitching into a turbid coma, breaking out from time to time with a delirious exchange, only to collapse yet again.
“It’s…Not named, sir,” Leslie replied, frozen in place with incredulity. “It’s directly across the Milky Way from home, but it’s got no proper name, Captain. I don’t understand how that could be…”
For a moment Kirk didn’t speak, searching his own memories for a hint at why this strange circumstance might exist, but as much as he strained, the exact notion barely eluded him. Spock offered no insight, and Uhura shrugged her shoulders and shook her head when he looked to her for a suggestion, and he was left without an answer for himself or his substitute-helmsman.
“I bet one of those two would know,” Kirk muttered to himself, looking at Sulu’s empty seat and Spock’s blue shirt where Chekov’s gold should have been.
Sulu had gone to sick bay with Chekov and not returned. Kirk assumed he was in the midst of helping McCoy with the horde, but had he known that he was actually posted at Chekov’s bedside, he may not have ordered him back to his post, anyway.
Down in the sick bay, however, Sulu was on the verge of a break-down.
“Pavel, hang in there, buddy,” he whispered as he pressed his lips to Chekov’s forehead, glancing around first to make sure McCoy was busy with administration of medication and Nurse Chapel was yelling too loudly for anyone to every overhear a whispered endearence. He used a folded hand towel to mop the navigator’s brow and stood back to watch the waves of pain wash away to a pale sea of terror on his friend’s sleeping face, trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t save him from.
“Hnf-…Agh…Stoj, pozhaluista-!” Chekov whined, drawing his right leg up and twisting the sheets in his balled fists. “Hikaru, pomogite!!”
Sulu would never claim to understand Russian well, but his own name was something he was as dearly familiar with as his own two hands, hands that now reached for Chekov through a fog and found him sweating and terrified on a hospital bed, begging him for salvation as some foreign invader tortured his mind. He didn’t know why he was so sure that was the case; maybe it was because he’d seen so much of the same on the Enterprise during her long excursion, but he’d claim forever that it was something he sensed, as if the air was telling him there was a deadly intruder present.
When their hands met, Sulu swore he felt a jolt of electricity run up his arms and into his ears, making him tingle all over for a moment, and his vision swam with black spots. He didn’t let go, not for an instant, and when he caught his breath, he found himself bent over Chekov’s bed, the ensign staring up at him questioningly through matted bangs.
“Orders, Captain?” Spock said as he raised his brows at Kirk, turning in his seat to regard the captain, who’d been sitting in silent thought for some time now.
“What are our options, Spock?” the captain replied curtly. “We’ve got no propulsion, no controls, and no ability to call Starfleet, unless-“
“Still nothing, sir,” Uhura offered before Kirk could bark anything at her. “I’ve been hailing on wide band, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone in the sector, somehow. I think that…thing…may be blocking out transmissions, somehow.”
“…Lieutenant, can we see that planet yet?” Kirk ventured slowly, sitting forward as he pondered the starry viewscreen.
After a moment’s hesitation and a bit of poking Sulu’s workstation, Leslie gave a triumphant ‘A-ha!’ as he brought up a front-angled view of a strangely pink-green planet. A halo of metallic debris encircled it like the ice rings of Saturn, made up of what could only be described as the sarcophagi of a dead starship fleet. Off-white to green-ish clouds floated through the lithosphere, obscuring whatever water sources the planet might have had.
“Sensors are…reading oxygen, captain,” Uhura said with bewilderment. Checking her readings and diagnostic settings, she shook her head as she continued, “I didn’t realize we were that close, but…There seems to be some sort of signal coming off the planet. Trying to decode it now…”
Kirk sat back again in his seat, regarding the odd, dead world. They had no choice but to get a closer look.
Fandom: Star Trek: TOS
Characters: Hikaru Sulu/Pavel Chekov
Prompt: 06.Resign
Word Count: 978
Rating: PG
Summary: In this multi-prompt episodic adventure, the crew of NCC 1701 are faced with a fanatical enemy with powers unlike anything they've yet encountered.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. :(
Notes: There will be links to proceeding and preceding chapters as the story updates.
Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
The ship was moving, but not by any will or power aboard. She was drifting like a log in a fast current, sweeping into view of the dingy-blue Khanate and pausing for only a moment, their shadows combining in the crossed-starlight like two Rorschach inkblots completing an intricate tango.
Onboard, the piercing shriek had died away nearly half an hour ago, but what their ears had first missed from the abuse was the new thrumming vibration that ran along every wall and floor, as if the metal of the ship was harmonically tuning itself to that of its neighbor. It was only a gentle rattle, but enough to make cups ambulatory and teeth shiver.
“Captain,” Spock said quietly, looking up from his new position at Chekov’s abandoned station, “It would appear that our course is being subtly shifted. We are now drifting 2 degrees starboard per second, differential dropping precipitously.”
“Mr. Leslie, where will that put us?” Kirk asked without turning his head to face the officer jogging back and forth behind him, trying to complete the jobs of two other officers on top of his own.
The crew had slowly begun trickling into the sick bay, asking for headache medications and fatigue relievers, complaining of sore joints and teeth, but McCoy wasn’t in the mood to play doctor when he had a more serious patient on his hands. Chekov had not made any signs of recovery since being evacced from the bridge, and instead seemed to be pitching into a turbid coma, breaking out from time to time with a delirious exchange, only to collapse yet again.
“It’s…Not named, sir,” Leslie replied, frozen in place with incredulity. “It’s directly across the Milky Way from home, but it’s got no proper name, Captain. I don’t understand how that could be…”
For a moment Kirk didn’t speak, searching his own memories for a hint at why this strange circumstance might exist, but as much as he strained, the exact notion barely eluded him. Spock offered no insight, and Uhura shrugged her shoulders and shook her head when he looked to her for a suggestion, and he was left without an answer for himself or his substitute-helmsman.
“I bet one of those two would know,” Kirk muttered to himself, looking at Sulu’s empty seat and Spock’s blue shirt where Chekov’s gold should have been.
Sulu had gone to sick bay with Chekov and not returned. Kirk assumed he was in the midst of helping McCoy with the horde, but had he known that he was actually posted at Chekov’s bedside, he may not have ordered him back to his post, anyway.
Down in the sick bay, however, Sulu was on the verge of a break-down.
“Pavel, hang in there, buddy,” he whispered as he pressed his lips to Chekov’s forehead, glancing around first to make sure McCoy was busy with administration of medication and Nurse Chapel was yelling too loudly for anyone to every overhear a whispered endearence. He used a folded hand towel to mop the navigator’s brow and stood back to watch the waves of pain wash away to a pale sea of terror on his friend’s sleeping face, trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t save him from.
“Hnf-…Agh…Stoj, pozhaluista-!” Chekov whined, drawing his right leg up and twisting the sheets in his balled fists. “Hikaru, pomogite!!”
Sulu would never claim to understand Russian well, but his own name was something he was as dearly familiar with as his own two hands, hands that now reached for Chekov through a fog and found him sweating and terrified on a hospital bed, begging him for salvation as some foreign invader tortured his mind. He didn’t know why he was so sure that was the case; maybe it was because he’d seen so much of the same on the Enterprise during her long excursion, but he’d claim forever that it was something he sensed, as if the air was telling him there was a deadly intruder present.
When their hands met, Sulu swore he felt a jolt of electricity run up his arms and into his ears, making him tingle all over for a moment, and his vision swam with black spots. He didn’t let go, not for an instant, and when he caught his breath, he found himself bent over Chekov’s bed, the ensign staring up at him questioningly through matted bangs.
“Orders, Captain?” Spock said as he raised his brows at Kirk, turning in his seat to regard the captain, who’d been sitting in silent thought for some time now.
“What are our options, Spock?” the captain replied curtly. “We’ve got no propulsion, no controls, and no ability to call Starfleet, unless-“
“Still nothing, sir,” Uhura offered before Kirk could bark anything at her. “I’ve been hailing on wide band, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone in the sector, somehow. I think that…thing…may be blocking out transmissions, somehow.”
“…Lieutenant, can we see that planet yet?” Kirk ventured slowly, sitting forward as he pondered the starry viewscreen.
After a moment’s hesitation and a bit of poking Sulu’s workstation, Leslie gave a triumphant ‘A-ha!’ as he brought up a front-angled view of a strangely pink-green planet. A halo of metallic debris encircled it like the ice rings of Saturn, made up of what could only be described as the sarcophagi of a dead starship fleet. Off-white to green-ish clouds floated through the lithosphere, obscuring whatever water sources the planet might have had.
“Sensors are…reading oxygen, captain,” Uhura said with bewilderment. Checking her readings and diagnostic settings, she shook her head as she continued, “I didn’t realize we were that close, but…There seems to be some sort of signal coming off the planet. Trying to decode it now…”
Kirk sat back again in his seat, regarding the odd, dead world. They had no choice but to get a closer look.