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Endeavour #2

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Captain Sharp:
Well enough, so far. Wife's mom. Took a trip to Missouri to see her.

Thanks for your interest, sir  :)

KBF-Frank:
 :thumbsup:

Captain Sharp:
More story. Comments welcome, of any sort.


Chapter Four


Captain Sharp tossed his dusty field jacket upon the railing near his command chair even as he shot out of the turbolift. He halted behind the science station chair, impatiently pointing Commander Andreavich to her post.

“I want that ship found, now!” He managed to halt shy of shouting.

Andreavich simply sat with a nod. The captain’s driven aggravation propelled her hands about the console with nearly frightened speed.

“We have the field scans from the tectonic episode, Captain.” She reported, already striving to dissect the volumes of data recorded by her relief officer.

“Tractor beam?”

“I’d say so, sir. And that would account for the erratic gravitons we detected earlier.”

“We were unable to pinpoint the origin of any tractor beams,” said Lieutenant Sehr as he resumed his post at navigations. “They must be using very low power tractor fields or fields with a neutral charge.”

“Understood, gunnery officer.” Sharp replied without looking back to the bald-shaven officer. “Begin another round of intense tactical scans. Look for clinging gravitons. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something hanging onto their onboard gravity field.”

“Aye.”

Sharp watched as the graphics on Andreavich’s monitors scrolled past and altered under her direction. “If we can’t detect their tractor beams, then figure out where they’d have to be to affect those plates the way they did. I’m figuring he’ll be back, and he’ll want to show everyone just how powerful he is.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Asked Commander Jeremy, who stood just behind the captain, his arms crossed.

Sharp stared off toward the planet spinning slowly on the viewer. He stepped toward the railing almost listlessly, eyes locked on the world. He tapped his fist on top of his field jacket.

“I might just be able to convince him, Number One.”




Two hours later found the captain sitting in the office section of his cabin. Despite his officer’s best efforts, no sign had yet been found of any orbiting ship other than Endeavour. On the bridge, he knew his exec and science officer were still scouring the area and reviewing sensor records, trying to find clues. If it was possible to find the alien craft, then they would do so.

Sharp tried to put the matter aside long enough to take care of his mounting data work. Fuel consumption reports and various other consumable requests he put to the side. They required little more than cursory examination. If there was a problem, Bornet would have been before him hours ago griping at length about it. Instead, he tried to look over Starfleet’s sector reports and Command briefs.

Jon had just begun to delve into the details regarding the two Klingon cruisers they’d been told to expect when the door chime sounded off. The captain gave himself a moment to grimace before lowering the pad in his hand and turning toward the hatch.

“Come in.”

The doorway retreated into the bulkhead to reveal the red-shirted Andorian gunnery officer. Mister Sehr stepped in, hands held respectfully behind his back. He said nothing.

“Yes, Mister Sehr?”

“I have thoughts about our invisible alien ship, Captain.”

“Do you, Lieutenant?” Sharp deposited his data pad to the desktop. He motioned for the bald alien to sit opposite of him. “Let’s hear it.”

Sehr seemed to pause before taking the offered chair. When he sat, he handed over a pad he’d been obscuring behind him. Sharp took it and keyed it on.

“Personal Log Entries… Enterprise, NX-01?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did you come by this?”

“Being a graduate of Advanced Starfleet Tactical has its benefits, Captain. One of them being a Level Four Clearance.”

Sharp grinned. He scanned down through the entries that Sehr had decided to include in his collection of exerts.

“Much of the NX-01’s logs and sensor recordings were destroyed during the conflict with the Xindi, and what managed to survive is classified beyond either of our clearance levels. But the old rumors led me to look into the non-classified personal entries.”

Sharp understood immediately after reading a few lines.

“You mean the old rumors about invisible Sulabaan ships?”

“And possibly Romulan, sir.”

Sharp’s eyes widened.

“Read further down, Captain.”

The captain skipped down a few paragraphs to later entries.

“Hmm…Lieutenant Reid mentions here being pinned to the hull by a mine of Romulan origin…” He quieted as he became very interested in what he was reading. “’The ship appeared from nothing, not just coming in from a distance or dropping out of warp…it literally appeared out of the black of space. If it weren’t for cloaking the Sulabaan cell ship in our hanger bay, and seeing the effect with my own eyes, I would not have believed it.’”

Lieutenant Sehr sat quietly, waiting for further reaction.

Sharp absorbed the information in his hands, mulled it over.

“This definitely adds credence to the Academy scare rumors, Mister Sehr.”

“Aye, sir.”

Sharp put the pad down and leaned back into the narrow seat beneath him. “Lieutenant Reid… He later commanded Intrepid, NV-138, during the Romulan War. There’s no mention of Intrepid encountering invisible Birds of Prey.”

“No, sir. But he’s quite adamant that they had that ability, at least in that starsystem, and he also mentions that the Romulan device was superior to the Sulabaan device.”

“Does that mean they had a method of detecting these…invisible ships?”

“I believe they did. He mentions a machine Captain Archer built that was able to detect the Sulabaan version of the system.”
 
“Archer? I don’t remember him being much of an engineer outside of warp theory.”

Sehr shrugged.

“You don’t suppose Reid was delusional, do you?”

“He went on to become CinC Starfleet, Captain.”

“Is this what you think we have here, Lieutenant? A…cloaked ship.”

“Starfleet R&D says it’s theoretically possible, sir.”

“The selective bending of light and sensor waves. And doing it flawlessly. We’ve been scanning for thirteen hours now. Do you really think it’s possible.”

Sehr’s expression remained adamant.

“It is for someone, Captain.”

“Well, if it is, and they have this ability, then we’re going to have to rely on other methods for finding them.”





Chapter Five


Captain’s Log, Stardate: 1040.8

It has now been a full day since my landing party’s return to the ship. So far, we have caught no trace of the suspected alien craft in orbit. Every normal scanning alternative has been explored and I am beginning to entertain my gunnery officer’s theory about invisible enemy spacecraft.

My alternatives seem to be slim, but I refuse to leave these people to alien exploitation. I have a couple more ideas in mind, which may shake something loose.



“Captain on the bridge.” Called out Lieutenant Lania from the comm station.
 
Captain Sharp halted and gave the planet suspended above them a cursory glance before looking to his executive officer. Commander Jeremy vacated the conn and approached. His gaze was questioning.

“Something in mind, Captain?”

“I told you I had an idea, Number One. I’m assuming no change since mid-watch?”

“Nothing, Captain.”

“Understood. Mister Jackson!”

The giant at the security console forward turned his insignificant chair about to face the CO. “Aye, sir?”

“I want you and a small security detail with me and Commander Andreavich. We’re beaming down there.”

“Aye, sir!”

Jackson was instantly on his feet and headed for the lift. Commander Andreavich glanced from him to the captain as she stood and left her station to a relief officer. The XO let his confusion be known.

“More recon, sir?”

“Not exactly, Number One. We’re going to contact the populace.”

That sent the XO’s brows into the sky.

“Should I signal Doctor Kenny to prepare for plastic surgery?”

“We’re not going to bother disguising ourselves. They’ve already seen alien visages. I don’t think we’ll cause that much of a stir considering what they’ve been living through. And it might take some of the awe out of different looking beings for them.”

“I see.” It was plain that Jeremy remained doubtful.

“Have Fabrications draw us up some convincing traveler’s robes. We’ll wear them over our uniforms. But I want them to see our faces.”

“I wonder how they’d respond to Mister Sehr’s face.”

The navigator’s antennae perked up at that, but he didn’t bother to turn about in his seat. Sharp allowed a small smile at the thought.

“Don’t think I haven’t considered it, Number One. You’ll have the conn. If I’m successful, you’ll get another tectonic display. Do everything you can to locate the source of those tractor beams.”

“Understood, Captain!”

“Come along, science officer. Stay sharp, people!”

Commander Jeremy chuckled at the apparent pun as his skipper led Ursula off the bridge. The XO turned to his officers and gave them all a nod.

“You heard the Captain. Eyes on your panels. Lania, signal Fabrications as the captain ordered.”

“Aye.”




Four robed figures beamed in amid an empty alleyway behind a bakery. The sounds and smells of a pre-medieval society came rushing in at them as they became accustomed to being off the ship once more.

Sharp took the lead just before Lieutenant Jackson and went to the head of the alley. He looked out from beneath his hood’s anonymity and took stock of the people before them.

It seemed that life had resumed per normal despite yesterday’s devastation. People roamed about on their normal early morning rounds, carrying out the normal business of city life. Carts hauling hay passed by the bakery, tied to a horse-sized animal that more resembled a hound dog. There was even a street sweeper cleaning the trodden dirt path between the unevenly spaced buildings. Children played in front of several of the shops, aggravating the owners within.

“The city square isn’t far from here.” Sharp told his party. “We shouldn’t have too many problems. We might even happen on their king if he’s leading the bunch taking care of the purgium.”

“I advise caution, Captain.” Warned the hulk behind him. Jackson had a hand near his hidden phaser, though the captain knew all too well that his favored weapons were his fists.

“Acknowledged, lieutenant. Let’s go.”




Phaerus B’tall watched as workers milled about the fallen obelisk of his ancestor and made plans for its destruction. It had been decided to break the enormous monument into much smaller portions to facilitate its removal from the city. This pained the ruler even more, adding misery to his heartbreak and dishonor. But it was necessary.

The day was young, but the old man was already beginning to sweat. It would be a blistering day. On days such as these their God loved to appear. What did he care? He did not sweat. B’tall would not remove himself from the square, though, until after their God’s visit. The quakes lasted even longer when the Phaerus hinted he had a life elsewhere.

Four travelers caught the ruler’s attention. They wore the most uncomfortably hot-looking robes he could imagine, and stood removed from the majority of B’tall’s people. It was obvious that they wished to remain unobserved an anonymous as they watched the goings-on of the Market. He could not make out their faces beneath their raised rain hoods.

The spies. They had to be.

B’tall waved off his guards as he moved into the crowds milling about his workers. The people parted respectfully as he waded among them. They looked at him with sad reverence and pity. He had once been as a god among men. Now he was a pitiable old man, trod-upon by a powerful being.

The four strangers had to have made out B’tall’s approach long before he broke free of the crowd. They made no move to escape him. Why should they fear him? He was just an old man, unable to protect his people. He halted before them.

One was a giant. Even beneath the darkness of his hood, B’tall could see his flesh was pale, untouched by the sun. He stood beside what was certainly the leader of the group. This man stood with his hands loosely clenched at his sides. His hands were darker than his much larger servant’s, but they still did not have the look of tanned flesh.

Behind the leader stood another subservient man, and what B’tall believed was a woman, by her sweet smell and lighter frame. The Phaerus stood before them and looked them over, obviously appraising them.
The leader bowed slightly, respectfully. His servants hesitated, but copied the gesture. It was obviously not their custom, what they were doing. An honor done him, then…

“Has the translator locked onto their language yet, science officer?” The lead asked of one behind him. He had no accent at all.

“Yes, Captain.” The woman responded, with far too little servitude in her tone. This made the ruler curious.

The leader stepped apart from his people and slowly drew back his hood. The face that looked back at him was smooth, with only a few wrinkles of age upon it. Wide eyes stared steadily from a light brown countenance. He was definitely of an alien origin, as strange to B’tall as their God’s visage.

The old man allowed a slow intake of air to pass his lips..

“You are the ruler here?” The Captain asked.

“I am…B’tall…Phaerus of Tomen. Why do you come? The God knows you are here!”

A tiny grim smile creased the Captain’s wide mouth.

“I’m sure he does, Phaerus. In fact, I’m counting on it.”

“And you do not fear him?”

“We do not.”

“Are you…Gods?”

There was a look of sadness in the Captain’s eye then.

“No we’re not. And neither is he. Phaerus, is there a place we can talk privately?”




“There,” Commander Jeremy pointed at the pattern on the navigation’s sensor panel. “That’s an active sensor pulse. They’re scanning the planet.”

The bald Andorian focussed his sensors on the reading.

“They’re scanning the city…Captain’s location.”

“Sharp’s got their attention, then.” Jeremy smiled slightly with satisfaction. “Localize that reading.”

“Scanning.”

Sehr retrained the tactical sensors. The sensor beams panned out through low orbit, contacting with nothing. Sehr changed resolution several times.

“Negative contact.”

“Nothing?”

“I’ve narrowed their orbit down to bearings 345 mark 056 to 350 mark zero. Approximate range 50,000 kilometers.”

The XO checked the tactical grid mounted at his feet.

“That’s within visual range. Put the area on screen.”

Sehr made a face, as though he still expected failure. There seemed no way to hide from a visual scan. Their quarry seemed finally in reach.

The main viewer angle changed, showing only another, slightly altered angle of the planet hanging above them. Stars twinkled back at them, almost like naughty sprite laughing across the cosmos. Frustration broke through the exec’s veneer.

“Goddamnit! Where the hell is he?”

“He’s stopped scanning.” Sehr reported.

The exchange between the two officers had got the attention of most of the bridge. The science spec was training everything at his disposal toward the area under scrutiny. Everyone else was a simple spectator.

“Damn it! He’s reflecting his scans!” Jeremy ranted on in a low voice. “He has to be. He’s not invisible.”

“Unless he is.” Said Sehr.

“No…” the first officer stepped back and slid down into the command chair behind him. “No way. Can’t be.”

The gunnery officer seemed to shrug. He terminated his scan.

Jeremy looked back at the empty field of space behind Endeavour. The captain’s orders were still valid, if seemingly much harder to carry out. He steeled himself.
 
“Something tells me the Captain’s plan’s about to start getting results.” He tapped the comm button on his armrest. “Yellow Alert! All hands, stand by battlestations!”




The Phaerus led the captain’s party to a torch-lit chamber deep within the central temple. They were surrounded by rich tapestries and hangings, by walls engraved with beautiful and intricate carvings. Tall statues of leaders from ages back stared back gallantly at them.

Two guards accompanied the procession into the temple’s interior. There were several servants with them till they reached their final destination, which were promptly dismissed once they halted. The room seemed to be some sort of offerings chamber. A throne sat in the far center, on raised dais. Two golden reliefs flanked the guilded chair, looking to the heavens.

B’tall did not take the seat, but stood before it instead. He turned to look back at the travelers. His guards took up silent posts at the room’s corners. Sharp gave them a glance. They were disciplined, armed with short bronze swords and short-hafted axes.

“You risk much to speak with me, strangers.” B’tall began. “What have you come here for?”

Sharp dropped his hood once again. His people followed suit, drawing gapes of shock from the flanking guards. The captain watched them a moment with a measured eye, then stepped forth to answer.

“Phaerus, you and your people are being exploited by a criminal.”

B’tall gave a sad smile.

“What you would call a criminal, my people call God.”

Sharp studied the elder ruler for a second. His senses told him the old man knew more than he dared admit to any other living being. Or at least he suspected.

“You know he’s not.”

The Phaerus shrugged.

“What else does one call a being capable of so much. You witnessed the tremors?”

“We did.”

“What sort of being can do this?”

Sharp made an offering gesture with his broad hands.

“We can. If one has the knowledge, it’s a simple trick.”

“Trick? Hm! Simple!”

There came a breeze within the enclosed chamber, strong enough to blow the hems of their robes about their ankles. An instant look of fright came over the Phaerus then and Sharp knew any progress was about to become a lot harder to purchase. Mentally, he steeled himself.

“Simple is it, Captain Sharp?” Said the God. He sat before them in the raised chair, looking down upon them all. Sharp smirked at the soft glow emanating from his skin.

“Simple application of tractor beams against tectonic fissures.”

“A crude method of replicating my power, Captain.” The thing said. “These people are wiser than you. They accept what their eyes show them.”

“They aren’t advanced enough to know the difference between trickery and miracles.”

“You call them dullards, yet they achieve greatness!”

The captain could instantly see the tact the false god was taking. He sought to set the ruler against him, make it seem as though Sharp were the one looking to take advantage. With his soft tones and calmness, the God-being would have made a brilliant politician.

Sharp forced a playfully deviant look onto his face and glared with challenge at the thing on the throne. “No dullards. Dullards wouldn’t begin to suspect already that you’re a charlatan, a con artist.”

The God’s eye flicked to the Phaerus. The uncertain ruler stood at the edge of the dais, looking like he’d rather be in prison than trapped between the two strangers. The being eased forth a smile.

“Phaerus B’tall recognizes his Gods.”

“Really? Does this…being…conform to your myths, Phaerus? Does he…look like any of your gods?”

B’tall swallowed.

“We…have no pictures of his face…”

“Which god has this being presented himself as?”

“Ba’al, God of Seasons and Harvest.”

“Ba’al?!” Came from Commander Andreavich. She’d recognized the name. Sharp didn’t have the time or luxury of questioning her about it. He pressed on.

“And how does this Ba’al appear in your imagery?”

“As an eagle on the winds.”

“And I appeared to them on the winds.” Said this thing that called himself Ba’al. Victory gleamed in his eyes. “I ride the skies as they ride voxen.”

“How long has this being been among you?”

“A year and two seasons.”

“And for your efforts, has he given your people anything? Plentiful harvests, perhaps?”

B’tall looked from one powerful personality to the next, nervous, perhaps scared for his life. Sharp knew he really didn’t need to convince this man. The real target of his argument was the man behind the god-act. He had to make this Ba’al, or whoever controlled him, angry enough to strike out.

“The harvest was immeasurable… The fertilizers Lord Ba’al gave to us yielded the greatest crops we have yet had.”

“Protected you from drought, then? Or floods?”

There was a flood, in Timuura. It killed one hundred—“

“The floods were necessary.” The God interjected, his face suddenly severe. “A mortal cannot know all the designs of the Gods.”

Sharp was quick to cut him off.

“Surely you have other gods as well. Probably a whole pantheon of them.”

B’tall hesitantly nodded.

“Ba’al is but one of many—“

“And where are they? Why has Ba’al been the only one to show himself?”

“The Tomen were ever my children, Sharp. You tread on dangerous ground!”

Sharp took a threatening step toward the seated god. The being watched him without fear, as though he were an errant child. Sharp halted at the edge of the dais.

“Dangerous ground? You’re exploiting these people. You’ve turned them into slave labor. With fear and a few simple tools, you’ve compelled them to mine a dangerous mineral from their world, which you will sell on the open market.
They’ll do the work, and make you rich. And when the purgium runs out, you’ll be gone, and with you goes the radiation drugs. They’ll whither and die, and you’ll be long gone.”

The being’s face twisted into an angry mask of hate.

“I have tolerated enough from you mortal.”

“I’ve only just started—“

Sharp was cut of, nearly strangled when an invisible force took hold of his larynx. He was driven to the ground before the dais, slamming his knees to the dusty stones. Lieutenant Jackson and his crewman rushed to their captain’s side. Sharp held up a staying hand, halting them. He gasped for breath.

“Foolish being!” The God-thing growled at him, leaning forth to look into the captain’s eyes. Sharp’s vision was beginning to darken at the edges. “You dare test me? You test the piety of my children?”

Sharp gagged as the grip on his throat tightened even more. He clawed at a force he could not grasp. This compelled Jackson and his subordinate to act. Both charged the dais. Both were knocked to the far wall by a wall of force.
Jackson’s subordinate was first to recover. He rolled to his feet, robe flying aside as he drew his hand phaser and aimed. Jackson shouted out a warning, trying to make a grab for the kid’s weapon.

The phaser squalled out its cry, filling the chamber with noise and searing light. The red beam shot out and pierced the God, who reacted not at all. He simply looked bemused as the wall behind him burst into a scatter of stone shrapnel.

The being release Sharp, who crumpled onto his side, gasping for clean, cool air. He looked back to his man who stood confused beside Commander Andreavich, staring at his useless weapon.

“Such insolence!” Ba’al almost whispered. He made a dismissive gesture. “Such is your reward.”

And the crewman was gone. There was no sound. No ionic discharge. Nothing occurred to reveal a transporter in operation, but the crewman was no longer there. Sharp forced himself to his feet. Jackson caught him as he swayed there before the God.

“What did you do to him!” Sharp shouted, his voice broken and winded.

The being smiled benevolently.

“He has met his reward, Captain Sharp.”

With a pointed finger, the chamber door opened, exposing the stone passage without. The day’s light glared back painfully at the end of the long corridor.

“Hark…he approaches!”

There was enough in the menacing smile for Sharp to discern his meaning. A faint murmur was coming from outside, the multiple voices of excited people. Sharp forced his legs into operation, dragging their leaden mass into a run. He flipped open his communicator as he charged for the out doors.

“Transporter room! Lock in on Crewman MacFarlane’s signal and beam him aboard! Now! Transporter room!”

As slow as Sharp felt, he was clearing the corridor swiftly. His people were right on his heels. He ignored the soft laughter that followed his retreat. A new sound was overriding the clamor of the people outside. The sound, high pitched and wretched, was growing quickly and steadily.

“We have his signal, Captain!” Came Lieutenant Imura’s excited voice from the other end of the comm link. “But a scattering field’s been raised in the ionosphere! I can’t bring him in!”

The captain and his crew broke into the full light of oppressive day. They halted, blinded, squinting as they looked about. Sharp tried to look skyward.

MacFarlane’s scream ended as he slammed into the stone right in front of the Captain. He struck the granite of the temple with enough velocity to crack the surface, sending a chip into the captain’s face. The crewman’s body was twisted into a shocking, fearful pose. The people about the temple entry rushed away in fright at the alien visages of Sharp and his team and the fallen man. They shouted and took flight at the appearance of the crewman’s red blood when it broke free of his twisted mouth.

Behind the landing party, Ba’al emerged from within the temple at a serene pace, a peaceful and benevolent expression in place on his pale face. Sharp glared over his shoulder at the form, ignoring the sheepish Tomen ruler standing behind him. The old man had been totally cowed.

“You have your warning, Captain. Leave this place, and never return.”

“Captain!” Said Imura then, “The scattering field’s dissipated! Shall I beam you aboard?”

Sharp brought the device back to his lips, unable now to look away from his dead crewman. This... hadn’t figured into his plan.

“Roger that, Lieutenant. Energize.”

Those few that had not hidden from the aliens at the temple, now ducked and scattered as the four forms were enveloped in a circling pattern of golden energy. As they began to fade out of sight, Sharp mused darkly that these people would probably attribute the event to the power of their awesome and unexplainable God, who had proven his superiority before his people.

KBF-Frank:
Realmente estoy intrigado, ¿Quién es supuesto dios?, ¿Cómo es que no pueden detectar su nave?
¿Qué hará Sharp para salir victorioso de esta situación?.
Esperando pacientemente por la continuación  ;D  :knuppel2:

Captain Sharp:
Uhm...yeah. I totally speak Spanish... Lemme head to babelfish.com...

Yeah, I'm not going to do that.

--guv

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