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Before Destruction!




  Star Trek: "Before Destruction!"* - An Original Novel By Michael Rossi

  (Please Read the File "README.TXT" before you begin this story.)

  Author's Note:

  The following story takes place immediately after the

  'Vintage' Trek episode entitled "Requiem for Methuselah". It

  also ties into the entire Trek world, thankfully created by

  the late Gene Roddenberry. Specific episodes that are referenced

  prominently are: "Requiem for Methuselah", "Whom Gods Destroy",

  "Day *f the Dove" and "Errand of Mercy". As with all works in the

  Trek universe, this one takes a few liberties... but only a few, and

  maintains the "Character" and "Spirit" that has made Trek my favorite

  world of imagination. Although this story relies on past episodes,

  it is independent of any other "S.T. Novel" or the contents therein.

  I would like to take this time to thank the writer's of the

  aforementioned episodes, and all the others who have contributed to

  the world of Trek in a positive way. Specifically I wish to thank

  them for showing me that, although fictional, it reflects hope, truth,

  loyalty, justice, honor, faith, and love. Trek authors have boldly gone

  where others have feared to tread. Tackling delicate issues of morality

  and justice unflinchingly, from the very beginning. Episodic topics

  have ranged from the "Cold War" to the "Bible" and have always spoken to

  current issues with an underlying sense of the "right" and "wrong" of

  them, or the "good" and "evil". I attribute the success of the series

  not merely to the actors and crew, but to these writers who envisioned

  a hopeful future, but never left the wisdom of the past.

  Thank you.

  Mike

  --------------------------------------MORE--------------------------------------

  And Now:

  Star Trek: "Before Destruction"*

  *Star Trek is a Registered Trademark of Paramount Pictures

  Copyright 1991 by Michael Rossi

  -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  *** PROLOGUE ***

  Captain James Tiberius Kirk, of the Starship Enterprise,

  yielded finally to the merciful, if often elusive, hand of sleep.

  Dr. Lenard McCoy had helped him on his way. His cabin was darkened

  as he sat behind his desk with his head down atop folded arms.

  The sleeves of his gold and black Captain's uniform were still

  moist from the tears he was unable to hold back any longer. Though

  asleep, he was neither at rest nor at peace. Phantasms of his

  tormented heart were there to greet him as he entered the place of

  his dreams.

  Behind him, like a chiselled monolithic sentinel, stood the

  Vulcanian Science Officer, Spock. He looked upon his Captain,

  moved with a compassion he had never experienced before. Not

  expressed on his face, nor seen in the fathomless depths of his

  eyes, the emotion drove him, forcing him to a decision. His

  logical mind did what it could to prevent him from acting, but the

  force from his half-human heart was irresistible. The pain of his

  Captain was now inexplicably yet undeniably his own. And then the

  decision was made.

  Spock, the man, moved towards his Captain, and gently placed

  his fingers upon the troubled brow of his friend. He closed his

  own eyes and concentrated. "Forget," he spoke to the heart of his

  Captain, "Forget..."

  * * *

  "They will be coming..." the voice spoke out prophetically.

  "How many?" came a second voice with a strange sadness in it.

  "Two ships, one from either side. But only one of their

  'landing parties' will descend," answered the first voice.

  "Should we prevent them from approaching?" came a third voice.

  "No," said the second, "It must be."

  "They are fearful. They believe we have answers to their

  fear," said the first.

  "Perhaps they are correct but they may not wish to hear

  what we have to say. For they have heard the truth from the

  beginning, and are still willingly ignorant of it. The pride of

  their vain imagination, their love of 'self', these are points of

  their blindness. Nevertheless, we are merely messengers of the

  truth, not creators of it... Let them come," spoke the second

  voice.

  "Let them come," agreed the third voice.

  "They shall come..." prophesied the first.

  PAGE A

  *** ONE ***

  Captain's personal log, Stardate: 5845.9.

  "It has been mere hours since we have left orbit around

  Holberg 917g, yet my memory of it seems to fade with our increasing

  distance. Holberg, was not on our intended agenda but a necessary

  break from our course, for on its surface in crude form was the

  vital mineral "Ryetalyn" which when refined was the main ingredient

  for a cure to Rigellian Fever. A landing party from the Enterprise

  had contracted Rigellian Fever weeks ago and the virus had swept

  the crew, which made our need one of desperation. Upon arrival at

  the out-of-the way planet, Myself, First Officer Spock and Dr.

  Leonard McCoy found the dwelling of a most amazing man."

  "We found that the man, Flint, living in isolation from the

  rest of the universe, had no record of ever existing on file in any

  Starfleet or Federation memory banks. That is, under the name of

  Flint. However, our observations of his personal possessions..."

  Captain James T. Kirk sat upright in his chair. To his

  astonishment, he could not recall any of his previous observations

  of Flint's personal possessions. In fact, he was losing most of the

  thoughts that he was sure he had only moments ago concerning the

  man. He remembered the floating M-4 robot that gathered the

  Ryetalyn. He remembered the end result; his crew whole again. But

  there was much missing... and something painful. Something that

  could burst his heart, were he able to recollect what that

  'something' was.

  "Captain Kirk, this is Lieutenant Uhura, please respond." The

  communications speaker broke the dark silence of his cabin and

  snapped Kirk's head up. The Captain blinked twice, hard, to arouse

  himself out of his trance-like state of thought. He reached for

  the comm button and winced at a small pain in his side.

  "Kirk here; what is it, Lieutenant?"

  "I have picked up a weak distress signal, Sir. I

  couldn't make out anything vocally but they used the emergency

  frequency with a pulse wave."

  "Were you able to pin-point its origin?"

  "It came from quadrant eight seventy-one, Captain. No

  specific location as of yet, but I'm trying to narrow it down."

  Her voice was steady, yet expressed her concern.

  "Eight seventy-one? Then it hasn't reached Starbase Sixteen

  yet?" He understood her concern. It was very likely that they

  were the only ones who had heard the distress signal.

  "No Sir. If it makes it there at all, it won't be for another />
  two hours. It is very weak, Captain."

  PAGE 1

  "Two point one three hours, Captain," Spock added, obviously

  standing close to Uhura.

  "Thank you Mr. Spock. Lieutenant Uhura, contact Starfleet

  concerning the signal. Inform them that we are going in to locate

  its origin." Kirk switched off his log recorder. "Mister Sulu?"

  "Yes, Sir!" The deep voice spoke confidently.

  "Set course for quadrant eight seventy-one, warp seven."

  "Aye aye, Sir," replied Sulu.

  Captain Kirk changed the comm channel to the intra-ship

  setting. "This is Captain Kirk, all hands Yellow Alert, repeat,

  Yellow Alert!"

  * * *

  Captain Kirk strode onto the bridge of the Starship

  Enterprise. Glancing across the spacious cabin, he noted all were

  at their stations doing what he knew, was their best. "What do we

  have in quadrant eight seventy-one, Mr. Spock?"

  The tall and lean Science Officer turned towards his Captain

  placing his arms behind his back in a "parade rest" fashion. His

  shiny black hair gleamed in the luminescence of the overhead

  lighting. Some time ago, he could state exactly when, Spock had

  committed to memory all Starbases and Federation outposts in all

  quadrants. "Science Station Copernicus, Elba II, six abandoned

  Dilithium mines, and the Golon Star System, Captain," he stated.

  "It is, however, heavily traversed by Federation cargo barges and

  privately owned freighters," he added in a formal, even tone.

  "Keptin, it is only vun sector avay from the Klingon Neutral

  Zone. Close enough to make a tribble squeal," said Ensign Checkov

  with a suppressed smile on his face. Sulu, his companion at the

  helm, didn't bother to suppress his.

  "So noted Mister Checkov. Uhura, try to make contact with

  Copernicus and Elba II."

  Kirk took the center seat, symbol of both a Captain's power and

  authority. He stared at the main view screen watching the stars

  unfold. He leaned forward and rested his right elbow on the arm

  of his chair, placing his chin in the palm of his hand. The bright

  starscape before him was breathtaking, but even so, his mind began

  to drift back to the Holberg expedition. 'Something painful?' He

  went over the events again in his mind; Rigellian fever, Holberg

  917g, Ryetalyn, the M-4 robot, Flint, bruised ribs. 'Bruised

  ribs?' Jim Kirk put his hand to his side. He could feel the Flexi-

  truss under his shirt, and realized he did indeed have bruised ribs,

  but try as he might, he could not recall a single detail about how

  they came to be that way.

  PAGE 2

  "Captain," Uhura spoke softly.

  Jim snapped his head up, realizing he was brooding in front of

  his crew. 'They all get paranoid when I brood.' He thought to

  himself, and spoke, "Yes, Lieutenant?"

  "Science Station Copernicus confirms their reception of the

  distress signal."

  "Did they locate the source?" He swiveled his chair to face

  the beautiful, dark skinned communications officer.

  "It's coming through now, Sir." She placed her hand to her

  ear to block out the various sounds emanating from the bridge.

  "There seems to be some kind of interference, Sir. I can't make

  out their message. Possibly they are experiencing a solar flare or

  something releasing a large amount of energy in their quad."

  "Mister Spock?" He turned to his First Officer.

  "Analyzing, Captain." The Vulcan bent over his science

  station's instrument panel. "Unsure, Captain. As the Lieutenant

  pointed out, there is a vast dispersal of energy between Copernicus

  and our present course heading. However, from the effect it is

  having on the subspace channel, I would hypothesize that it is an

  unnatural event."

  "I have it now, Sir," Uhura said. "Copernicus reports they

  have identified the source code of the distress call. It came from

  a space-vessel named the 'Fringe Ranger', in the immediate vicinity

  of Elba II."

  "The Fringe Ranger? Spock, search the records and let me

  know what information you can find on it." Kirk returned his chair

  to its foreword position. "Alter course for Elba II, Mister Sulu."

  "Aye, Sir."

  The turbo-lift opened with a 'swoosh'. Dr. McCoy in his

  blue medical uniform, stepped out silently. He looked down to the

  man in the center seat. McCoy had been and continued to be

  concerned with Jim's emotional state. Deep depression in anyone

  can hinder judgement and cause abnormal actions and reactions. In

  a Starship Captain, the consequences escalate exponentially. In

  worst cases, it could jeopardize the safety of the crew. But it

  was Jim Kirk, his friend, whom he worried about. "Sickbay is

  ready, Jim." The Doctor rested on the upperdeck's arm-rail. "How

  soon till we know any more?"

  "Soon. We are on course for Elba II, Doctor. I trust you are

  equally prepared to minister to their specific needs as well?"

  Elba II had been the only mental institution in the Federation for

  the criminally insane for nine years.

  "I'm prepared for every contingency. Which reminds me, I have

  PAGE 3

  a special prescription prepared for you in my cabin when you can

  find the time."

  "One of your '100 Proof' remedies?" Jim said, hoping it wasn't

  a sneaky ploy to get him close enough to sickbay to give him a

  physical. "I'll have to pass until this is taken care of, Bones."

  Spock turned from his station's computer console, "Captain,

  the Fringe Ranger is a decommissioned Yeager-Class cruiser with a

  complement of thirty-seven officers and crew, now carrying supplies

  to frontier colonies and Starfleet outposts. It was apparently

  enroute to Elba II. I have also analyzed her distress signal

  with interesting results." Kirk nodded for him to continue. "The

  signal appears to have been sent prior to the phenomena causing the

  subspace disturbance, and I estimate a 97.43 probability that it was

  being jammed from close proximity."

  "Jammed?" Kirk rose from his chair and moved to the science

  station. He observed the readings indicating that it was so. The

  flattened waves and distorted peaks of the line image looked very

  much like a jammed signal.

  "Who would jam a distress call in Federation space?" the

  doctor asked no-one in particular.

  "As Mr. Checkov pointed out earlier, we are not far from the

  Klingon Neutral Zone, and pirates have been known to be operative

  in this sector. Mr. Sulu, precautionary Red Alert. Mr. Checkov,

  Screens up, charge phasers," the Captain ordered.

  The alert claxon sounded, causing the crew's adrenal glands to

  surge in preparation for the emergency tasks they so often were

  required to perform. Ignorance was the greatest cause of fear among

  the battle-ready members. Not knowing the situation causing the

  alert allowed their minds to race in all directions. The Captain

  had been on the other end of command, and understood his crew's need

  for information.

  "Kill the claxon, Mr. Sulu." Jim returned to his c
hair,

  standing next to it, and again pressed the intra-ship comm. "This

  is the Captain speaking. We are on a rescue mission, but have

  cause to believe there may be enemy involvement. It may be a false

  alarm, but stay sharp. Kirk out."

  The sensor panel by Spock crackled with electricity then

  exploded, to the surprise of everyone. Before Spock could ascertain

  the reason for this, the Enterprise was hit hard by some powerful

  but unseen force. The ship rocked and vibrated, pitching those

  standing to the floor and causing several more overloads on the

  sensor panel. Sparks flew and smoke billowed from the unit's side

  vents.

  "Mr Spock, what hit us?" Kirk asked, regaining his footing.

  Another jolt, less in severity, hit the ship.

  Spock, also gathering himself up from the deck replied, "A

  PAGE 4

  concussion-energy wave of some magnitude. Sensor feedback shorted

  out any early warning we might have received,"

  "Lieutenant Uhura?" The Captain did not have to make a

  complete request of the communications officer. The closeness of

  the bridge officers occasionally circumvented any need of formal

  query in events such as this.

  "Damage to shields 3 and 4, long and short range sensors are

  out, minor structural damage below C deck. Engineering reports,"

  her report was interrupted by a voice over the bridge speaker.