STAR TREK BEYOND
created by Kai Brauns
based upon STAR TREK created by Gene Roddenberry
S1E00
“Changing course”
written by Kai Brauns
Consultant: Uwe Heinzmann
Teaser
Captain's Log, Stardate: 128692.4. Our current mission is to protect the Romulan colony
on Feldar III. Other Romulan colonies in the area have been attacked before
by a group of Reman renegades. I am determined to get these pirates and deal with them
as harshly as Starfleet regulations allow. It is better to teach them a lesson they will not forget
than having to constantly watch over them.
created by Kai Brauns
based upon STAR TREK created by Gene Roddenberry
S1E00
“Changing course”
written by Kai Brauns
Consultant: Uwe Heinzmann
Teaser
Captain's Log, Stardate: 128692.4. Our current mission is to protect the Romulan colony
on Feldar III. Other Romulan colonies in the area have been attacked before
by a group of Reman renegades. I am determined to get these pirates and deal with them
as harshly as Starfleet regulations allow. It is better to teach them a lesson they will not forget
than having to constantly watch over them.
It was dark on the bridge of the U,S,S. TUCKER. There were several lightsources, but grey walls, black uniforms and the grim faces of the crew seemed to swallow it all. Captain Toral stared at the huge screen which was depicting a holographic image of outer space in front of the the ship. Despite his Vulcan heritage he felt an unfamiliar tension.
To his right, his first officer was watching the sensors. So far the Trill had criticized almost any decision the captain has made but for once he kept quiet. He used to say it was a first officer´s duty to offer alternatives. Toral did not approve of this behaviour, and had he known this seemingly young man before, he would never have relied on the complimentary content of his Starfleet dossier.
At last the first officer declared what everyone was waiting for. “Sensors read Reman battle cruiser at 5 million kilometers, closing in with raised shields and powered disruptor banks.”
“Raise shields,” Toral commanded. “Red Alert. Phasers on target.”
“Remans getting into phaser range, Sir,” announced Lieutenant M'rek from the tactical console. “Target set.”
“Sir,” the Trill said. “We should hail them, warn them.”
Toral suppressed an annoyed sigh. He had hoped the powered disruptor banks would be sufficient reason for a preemptive strike “Very well,” he said resignedly. “Open a frequency to the Remans.”
“Frequencies open.”
Toral cleared his throat before speaking. “This is the Federation Starship TUCKER. Feldar III is under our protection. You are ordered to stand down, or we will use lethal force.”
There was a moment of tense silence.
The Reman ship was now filling the big holographic screen. It was just an old Reman Warbird, being no real threat for the TUCKER, since the Remans hadn't been able to improve their starship technology since the downfall of the Romulan Empire.
Suddenly the disruptor banks at the wings of the Warbird began to glow and two beams of light lanced at the Federation cruiser.
“The Remans have fired,” M'rek stated the obvious.
“Evasive maneuvers,” the captain ordered. “Fire at will.”
The TUCKER dodged the incoming fire and retaliated with several phaser blasts. The Remans were not as quick as the TUCKER, and their shields collapsed under the phaser´s impact force . Suddenly, the Warbird banked around and jumped to Warp.
“Follow them,” commanded Toral, standing out of his chair and stepping closer to the main screen. “We are not letting them get away to come back after our departure.”
“Sir,” replied the Trill, “if we leave now, the colony will be without protection.”
“They are getting away,” Toral dismissed his first officer.
“There are more than a thousand civilians down there.”
Toral turned around to face the young man. “Commander, that's enough. You are to stand down.”
A heartbeat later Toral was lying unconcious on the floor while the young Trill fixed his gaze on the Cardassian helmsman.
“We will not follow them,” the commander said determinedly.
Unsure what to do the Cardassian finally nodded. “Aye, Commander Dax.”
Act 1
“He punched me in the face, Admiral,” Toral stated, having a hard time checking his temper and keeping his Vulcan calmness up. “It was a severe breach of Starfleet regulations, not to mention highly illogical.”
“I realize that,” the admiral on the small screen in the captain's ready room replied. “But in the end, Dax was right. Only minutes after the first Reman Warbird warped out, two others decloaked and would have annihilated the colony if you'd have had your way and followed the other ship. The man's instincts saved a lot of lives today.”
“He may have been right this time,” the Vulcan admitted grudgingly. “But he is still guilty of insubordination and assault on a superior officer. Next time, his 'instincts' may be wrong.” Toral paused for a moment. “Anyway, I cannot work with this officer any longer. In my opinion he should be court-martialed. If this will not happen, he must at least be transferred away from my ship. As long as he is on the TUCKER, he will remain in the brig.”
The admiral nodded. “This I understand, of course. As it turns out, our new head of Starfleet Command has plans to deal with Dax though I am not sure they will suit you.”
****
Three days later Commander Jelon Dax sat outside the offices of Starfleet Command in San Francisco, Earth. He was unsure what to expect here and wondered why he wasn´t in a holding cell awaiting his sentence and most probably a dishonorable discharge.
Despite his deep thoughts concerning his future, Dax still noticed the headquarters of Starfleet had gotten a paint-job, feeling much brighter and warmer than before. The huge windows showed the idyllic garden. It may be late september, but it was still nice and warm outside.
Finally the secretary approached and announced that the admiral was ready to receive him now. Dax rose and stepped towards the large, old-fashioned non-mechanical double door. After pushing down the handle, the door swung wide and Dax stared in surprise at the diminutive figure outlined in front of a panoramic window behind the desk.
“Come in, Commander,” the old Ferengi said.
Dax complied and closed the door.
The Ferengi walked towards him with his saw-toothed grin. “It's good to see you again, Dax,” he said and shook the perplexed Trill's hand.
“Nog?!”
“Oh, you got the new body and I'm the unrecognizable,” the small admiral joked.
Dax's perplexity was replaced by a sudden joy of reunion. “Nog, what are you doing here?”
“Well, it's my office, you know.”
There was the puzzlement again. “What do you mean, this is... When did they make you head of Starfleet?”
“Oh, well, I'm not. Not yet officially, anyway. The official ceremony is in ten days. But come, sit.”
They went to the side of the large office where two couches and a small table waited for them.
“So,” Nog continued the conversation after they sat down. “You're Jelon, now.”
“Yes,” Dax replied. “My tenth host. Probably my last.”
“You know,” Nog said. “I've known two former Daxes, but this is the first time I've seen you with a male host. A bit weird, but luckily, I'm not young enough to care much for females anymore, anyway.”
They laughed. “Yes, it takes most people a while to adjust. And you, you've come quite far, haven't you.”
“Ah, well, first Ferengi to join Starfleet and survive long enough to get this old. I guess they had no choice but make me the new leader. Still, I wish my father was still alive to see this.”
Dax smiled sympathetically. “He would be proud. I know he supported your decision to join Starfleet right from the start.”
“Yeah,” Nog said nostalgically. “Hey, remember when he bought me a cadet uniform, not knowing I'd get them for free at the academy?!”
They both laughed. “Like I said, he was quite supportive.”
Nog nodded smiling. But then he leaned back and straightened his uniform. “Back to official business. I've heard, you had quite an argument with Captain Toral a few days ago.”
Dax swallowed hard. He had almost forgotten about that. “Well, yeah. I guess you know the facts. If I hadn't taken command, more than a thousand Romulan colonists would be dead.”
“So, you don't regret your decision.”
Dax shook his head. “Affirmative. I may have ruined my Starfleet career, but I'd still do it again.”
Nog nodded. “That's good.” He sat up and scratched his left lobe. “Dax, what´s your opinion on Starfleet´s present status-quo?”
Again, Dax was perplexed. What had this to do with anything? “Uh, well, I guess, it's not the good old days, anymore. It's all about regulations and standing ready for the next war to break out.”
“Quite right,” Nog said, standing up and starting to pace the room randomly. “We used to be explorers, seeking new life, 'going boldly where no man has gone before' as Zefram Cochrane put it. And that's what I signed up for eighty years ago. But now, we've become simple soldiers waiting for the next battle.” He stopped and turned to face Dax. “But that's about to change.”
Dax shot his old friend a puzzled look. “What are you going to do?”
“Me and a few other people in Starfleet Command are determined to change the direction of Starfleet. We want to renew our original mission. And we have a new flagship, the second of the new Magellan-class, to represent this new direction.”
“A ship?”
“Yes. Right on time for the 300th anniversary of the maiden flight of the first Starfleet ship. And I want a captain to go with it, someone who will go out and find new civilizations, who is not married to Starfleet regulations but will follow his instincts.” He paused for a moment. “I want you, Dax.”
Dax had to let this sink in. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “I knocked out my captain, and instead of kicking my butt out of the fleet, you offer me a promotion and the command of a new flagship to visit unknown planets and see stuff no one else has ever seen before.”
Nog nodded. “That about sums it up.” He laughed. “So, are you gonna do it?”
A wide grin took over Dax's face. “Hell, yeah.”
Act 2
Serok was staring out of the window over the skyline of the Romulan colony of Luron VI . He had exactly twelve minutes and 29 seconds left to spend on this planet before getting beamed on board the HERALD. Rather than taking a walk and seeing the last of his home for a long time, he stayed inside the apartment.
He did not feel any appreciation for this colony or most of its people. Most Romulans had not treated him very well. They made fun of him, insulted him, and sometimes, when one of them wanted to impress the others that person would physically attack him. Even among his relatives he had few friends and as much as he tried, he could never shake the emotion of fear and pain from himself.
Maybe he would have succeeded being raised on his father´s world among his own kin. Maybe then he would be like them: Cool, logical, emotionless.
A colleague at his former post once asked Serok why he would ever return here despite hating this place so much. Well, for all the misery it had caused him, there was something – someone – that always brought him back.
Serok turned around to look at his mother. “I will write whenever I can,” he said.
T'fawn smiled at her son. “I'm sure you will, even though you should have better things to do.”
The young Half-Vulcan stepped to her side and put his hand on her shoulder. “Nothing is better than thinking about you, mother.” He looked deeply into her eyes, saw a tear escaping and the smile disappearing from her face. At this moment, he became very aware of the state of emotion he was in. Quickly he withdrew his hand and tried to push his feelings away. “I will find the time to write.”
“HERALD to Commander Serok,” his comm-badge sounded saving him from the danger of another emotional outburst.
He tapped on the Starfleet insignia sewn into the fabric of his uniform jacket. “Serok here,” he replied.
“We are ready to beam you aboard, Commander,” said the female voice of a transporter chief on the Starship.
Serok sighed, picked up his luggage, and took one last glance at the woman that was the one good thing about his childhood. “Live long and prosper, mother,” he said.
She smiled again. “You, too, Serok.”
He nodded. “Serok to HERALD. One to beam up.”
T'fawn watched as her son desintegrated into atoms until a second later, he had completely vanished. She sat down, staring at the spot he had been in just a moment ago. And she let the tears run down her face.
****
Dax looked at his image in the mirror. He definitely liked the new uniform. The old one had been black and dull, only the collar showing color. Now the jacket was all color, even the shoulder area that was of a different material than the rest. And they had really returned to the glory days with the color scheme for the distinction of the divisions, with gold for command and navigation, blue for medical and science, and red for operations and security.
Dax touched the rank pins on his black collar, two on each side. He would have to get used to the fourth one.
The door signal beeped, interrupting the new captain in his thoughts. “Enter,” he said out loud so the computer would open the door to the visitor.
In came a dark skinned young woman, probably of Indian descent,dressed in a golden uniform jacket, but with only three rank pins of which one was halfway colored black. “Hello, sir,” she said. “I am Lieutenant Commander Sagu.”
“Ah, yes,” Dax acknowledged. “My helmsman.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered with a smile. “If you are ready, I will bring you aboard the ship.”
Dax motioned for his baggage lying on the bed of the one-room quarters. Packing had not been much of an issue. Since his arrival from the TUCKER, he had figured there was no reason to unpack his personal belongings, as he wouldn't be staying long anyway. He just replaced his black uniform jackets. “I am ready, Commander,” he said, grabbing his bags and turning towards her.
It took them only a few minutes to get from the guest quarters of the Space-dock in Earth's orbit to the inner shuttle bay of the station. Since the foundation of Starfleet, it had been a tradition for the Captain of a new ship to come aboard by shuttle rather than transporter beam.
After boarding their craft, Dax and Sagu sat down in the cockpit. “Your file praises your piloting skills, Commander,” the Trill said. “I am looking forward to seeing you in action.”
“Thank you, sir,” Sagu replied. “Though I doubt it's something you haven't seen before. Living ten lives, several as a Starfleet officer, most of them traveling in space, one as a pilot yourself even, you must have known some good helmsmen.”
“So you've been reading my file, as well.”
“I'm sorry, if you are offended by this,” Sagu said apologetically.
“Not in the least,” Dax calmed her. “It just shows that you're not indifferent to your commanding officer and if I get to read your file, it's only fair if you also read mine.”
“Yes, but you must have done it in order to choose your officers, right?”
“Actually, I didn't get to do that,” Dax said. “I came in so late in the game, Admiral Nog picked the senior officers himself.”
“Well,” said the Lieutenant Commander, “I can see why you were offered this command. You're not the kind of man I'm used to being my captain. And if I may say so, sir, I appreciate that.”
“Thanks,” Dax said. “And if you pilot my ship as good as this shuttle, I like you being my helmsman, too.”
“Guess that's what they call 'mutual liking',” Sagu blurted. As soon as it was out, she showed her embarrassment. “I'm sorry, sir, that last remark was inappropriate.”
Dax smiled. “Take it easy, Commander,” he said. “It's not like anyone's hearing us, and we are not in any emergency .”
“You're definitely not the kind of captain I'm used to.”
“Say, does our conversation qualify as flirting?” asked Dax.
The woman shot him a puzzled look. “I'm not flirting with you.”
Dax nodded acknowledment. “According to your files you're Muslim. Just how religious are you?”
“I am not the kind of woman practicing casual sex,” she answered in a playful tone.
“Oh, dammit,” he said. “You definitely read my file.”
They laughed until Lieutenant Commander Sagu nodded towards the front viewport. “There she is.”
Among the gray and silver starships that filled the Space-dock, the cream-colored hull was like a shining beacon in an otherwise dark space. It also had a classic look to it, reminding Dax of the old Constitution-Class with the warp nacelles jutting out of the engineering-section, upwards so the nacelles themselves were even higher than the saucer section. It was almost 800 meters long and 100 meters high, the circular primary hull measuring 350 meters in diameter.
At the neck of the ship, connecting the saucer-section with the secondary hull was a large installation, just above the navigational deflector. Dax recognized it as a Yamato-type phaser, directly connected to the main reactor. It was a last resort weapon powerful enough to destroy another Starship with a single blast, but draining the ship's main power in the process, leaving it virtually defenseless with only emergency power for two minutes. It had been standard for newly commissioned Starfleet heavy cruisers for about a year now.
They flew higher, swooping around the upper side of of the primary hull. And there they were. The letters to define the new direction Starfleet was about to take. The return to the origins. U.S.S. ENTERPRISE NCC-1701-I.
Act 3
Upon debarkation they were greeted by several officers and crewmen standing in rows at the side of their boat. “Captain on deck,“ shouted a rather tall redclad Andorian . Within a moment's notice the officers and crewmen straightened .
Dax had witnessed this procedure quite often during his various careers in Starfleet, but this particular perspective was rather new to him. The Jelon part of him was about to panic, just now realizing the pressure he would be under from now on, but the symbiont calmed him down. “At ease,“ he said towards the crew. His crew.
They loosened up a bit. Not to say they were really at ease, but they did not look like statues anymore.
Dax paced the front row and looked at the crew. “Alright,“ he started the mandatory welcoming speech . “I want to be honest with you. I did not choose you for the job you're supposed to do. I wasn't asked. Most of you were on this assignment long before I ever heard of it. And I realize most likely none of you signed up for this having ever heard of me. All I know of you is what little I had time to read from your files. But that's just fine.
“It's fine we have not yet made anything of such historical significance anyone ever heard of us. It's fine, because we will change that. What awaits us on our mission, what we are about to experience, will be part of the history books. Do not expect this mission to be easy. We have a lot to live up to. We are supposed to bring Starfleet back to its roots and to live up to the name of our ship. That´s no easy task. But we will prevail!. Just try your best and I will do the same.“
He stopped in front of a redclad Terran Lieutenant Commander “Achim Benger, chief of engineering, I presume.“
The man nodded. „Yes, sir.“
“According to your file, you are quite good at what you're doing. Wouldn't have picked someone else, even if I had a choice.”
Benger smiled enthusiastically. “Thank you, sir. I'll do my best not to disappoint you.”
Dax stepped in front of the Andorian. “And you must be Lieutenant Commander Tahor.”
“Yes, sir,” shouted the tall blue-skinned alien as if Dax stood half a mile away, straightening up “Tactical officer and chief of security, sir!”
Dax raised an eyebrow, more than slightly amused by the performance. “Yes,” he said. “I feel safer already.” He turned to the crew. “That'll be all for now. Dismissed.”
The crewmen scattered , returning to their posts. When Tahor was about to do the same, Dax stopped him. “Commander, I have noticed that not all senior officers were present.”
“Yes, sir,” Tahor replied at a lower volume than before, his antennae moving sideways. “Commander Serok is not yet aboard. We will rendezvous the HERALD in the Romulan sector in two days.”
“Yes, I know,” Dax replied. “But what about our chief medical officer? He's supposed to have arrived yesterday.”
“So he did, Captain,” Tahor began, but hesitated before continuing. “When I told him to be present at your arrival, he was … dismissive.”
Dax's surprise showed on his face. “Dismissive,” he repeated.
“Well, sir, Dr. Peters is not very enthusiastic about Starfleet traditions.” He paused, thinking about if he should reveal the next detail or not. He decided to do it. “Actually, he is not very enthusiastic about Starfleet at all.”
Dax raised an eyebrow. “This assignment is getting more and more intriguing.” He turned to Commander Sagu, who had been trailing him. “What´s this human proverb: If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, Muhammad must go to the mountain. You go to the bridge, prepare to clear Space-dock.”
“Aye, sir,” she replied.
Dax then turned towards the door. “I'll go and visit our enthusiasm-lacking friend in sickbay.”
****
Arriving in sickbay, Dax approached a nurse. “Excuse me, I'm looking for Dr. Peters.”
“Yes, Dr. Peters is in Lab One, sir. This way.” The Bajoran woman waved him to a door on the right of the large room.
Dax nodded. „Thank you.“ He left the nurse to her work and went straight for Medical Laboratory 1.
When the captain entered the room, a middle-aged man with dark skin and a grumpy look on his face turned around and met Dax's eye. “Who are you?” he asked harshly.
“Had you been in the shuttle bay like you were supposed to you would already know the answer.”
“Ah,” the man said. “So, you're the captain.”
“And you, I presume, are Dr. Bryan Peters.”
“Listen,” the doctor said while turning back to his instruments. “I'm not good with Starfleet regulations. I heard you're not that strict about them, and I really need to get to know my new working place.”
“I don't follow regulations if they don't work within a situation,” Dax said. “And I do like to meet my senior officers.”
“Well, here we are, meeting each other.”
Dax wasn't going to leave it at that.. “Your absence from the ceremony could be interpreted as a lack of respect.”
“Whoever would view the situation this way would come to think you having a problem of self-esteem,” Peters retorted and turned around again to see Dax's reaction.
The captain remained calm. “It was not respect for me I was talking about, but respect for Starfleet.”
Peters smirked, picking up a medical tricorder and calibrating it. “In that case, they'd be right to view my absence this way.”
“You don't respect Starfleet,” Dax remarked.
“Hell, for the most part, I don't even like Starfleet. Space travel, militaristic behavior, stupid 'welcome the captain on board' traditions. Dammit, I'm a doctor, not an astronaut.”
“Well, you're a Starfleet medical officer, so you're kinda both.”
“Smart-ass. What the hell was I thinking joining the fleet?”
“I don't know,” Dax replied. “What were you thinking?”
“That question was rhetorical.” Peters sighed, putting the tricorder down. “I am an explorer. A medical explorer. I'm good at studying unknown diseases, improvising cures. Unfortunately, Starfleet offers the best opportunity to put these talents to use ” He looked at Dax. “I'm not a soldier. I don't like to discipline people, and I hate getting orders. If you're looking for a lapdog following you around saying 'Yessir' to anything you utter, go look for a new doctor.”
Dax smiled. “You remind me of another doctor I once met, about 200 years ago.” He thought for a moment. “And also of the father of a friend, actually.”
“Oh, great,” Peters said sarcastically. “Are you about to tell more tales from your previous lives? I can't wait to listen to the old man in a young body.”
“You may not call me 'old man',” Dax reprimanded him. Then he relaxed and offered his hand to the doctor. “But you may call me Jelon.”
Peters hesitated, then grabbed the captain's hand and shook it. “Bryan. Or Doc, whatever suits you.”
“Ooh, 'Doc'. That's a classic. I'm tempted.” They let go of their hands. “Listen, I'm not looking for a lapdog, and I'm beginning to like you. Things on board will be far less militaristic than you may be used to in Starfleet. But I need to uphold at least a little discipline.”
Peters nodded. “Fair enough.”
“And I want you to tell me when I'm wrong.”
Peters smirked. “When you're wrong, do I get to punch you in the face?”
“Oh, that one's gonna stick, huh?” Dax shook his head laughing. “Well, you're welcome to try.”
“Never mind, wouldn't go along with my oath as a doctor.”
“Okay,” Dax said. “Listen, I'm needed on the bridge, we're going to clear the dock. But why don't you come to my quarters tonight and we'll drink to the start of our mission to explore strange new diseases, to seek out new viral life and new bacterial civilizations.”
“Sounds good,” Peters said, way more friendly than before. “I could bring some Saurian Brandy.” Just then a thought crossed his mind. “But, uh, this is not a sexual thing, is it?”
Dax raised his eye-brows. “What? Why?”
“See, I was chatting with Commander Sagu earlier ...”
“Well, no, but if you want, we can make it one.”
“Let's say we won't, then I'll be there.”
****
Dax exited the turbolift and stepped onto the bridge. It was a real beauty, a white-walled circle, about 15 meters in diameter. At the front there was the large view-screen showing a three-dimensional picture of the inner Space-dock. There was an outer ring with stations for engineering, communications, science, tactical, and others. Two small steps lead down to the inner bridge, with the helm at the front and the command chair in the middle. On each side of the command chair was a marked space where guest chairs would materialize when needed.
Dax noticed Sagu sitting on the left side of the helm, a young female Deltan ensign to her right. Tahor occupied the tactical station in the outer ring. As soon as he noticed Dax, he jumped up and straightened himself. “Captain on the bridge,” he shouted.
Immediately, everyone rose to their feet, turned to Dax and straightened up.
“At ease,” Dax said. When everyone was seated, he turned to Tahor. “I hope that's not how I will be greeted every time I walk in here.”
Tahor nodded. “Aye, sir.”
“Good,” Dax said and stepped toward his command chair. “Commander Sagu, are we ready to depart?”
“All systems ready,” Sagu stated. “We have permission to clear the dock.”
“Alright, then.” Dax sat down in his chair, ran his fingers over the controls of the chair's arms. He swiveled around and took a good look at everyone. Finally facing the helm again, he said: “Let's get going. Aft thruster, full speed.”
Act 4
Serok entered the ready room of Captain Leroy. “You requested to see me, Captain?”
William Leroy looked up from the small screen on his desk and met the Vulcan´s eyes. “Sit down, Commander.” It was more order than invitation. When Serok was seated opposite to him, the captain started: “Half an hour ago, our long-range scanners have detected a space anomaly in the former Romulus system. We have orders to investigate.”
“Intriguing,” Serok said. “Could you be more specific on the subject?”
“Well, my science officer could explain better, you can ask him later on. He'd probably appreciate any suggestions you might have. For now, it seems that the location of this anomaly is exactly where the red-matter incident happened.”
“That incident created the anomaly which swallowed the Hobus nova responsible for the destruction of Romulus,” Serok remarked.
“That's the one,” Leroy replied.
“Sir, what about the ENTERPRISE? We were supposed to rendezvous with her in the Dimarek system.”
“Well,” Leroy said, “our plan has changed. We have already contacted the ENTERPRISE. She'll meet us at the anomaly.” He leaned forward. “Are you sure you want to get involved in this investigation? Considering it all goes back to the destruction of your home world.”
“I have to correct you, sir,” Serok replied. “Romulus is not my home world. I was born and raised on Luron VI and studied at Starfleet Academy on Earth. Romulus was destroyed long before my birth and can therefore not be my home.”
“Yeah, well, but your maternal family comes from Romulus, doesn't it?”
“And if you go back long enough, my maternal family also originated on Vulcan. I do not see your point.”
Leroy nodded. “You're definitely more Vulcan than Romulan, I give you that. Well, that's all, Commander. You're dismissed.”
****
Captain's Log, Stardate: 128729.1. Our rendezvous with the HERALD has been
relocated due to an anomaly detected in the Romulus area. There, the last remaining senior
officer of the ENTERPRISE will join us in the form of XO Serok. By his
own request, he will not only serve as my executive officer, but also as science officer.
relocated due to an anomaly detected in the Romulus area. There, the last remaining senior
officer of the ENTERPRISE will join us in the form of XO Serok. By his
own request, he will not only serve as my executive officer, but also as science officer.
“We are approaching the Romulus area, Captain,” Sagu announced.
Dax sat up straight. “How long till we will rendezvous with the HERALD?”
“Two hours, sir,” Sagu answered.
Peters, who stood next to the command chair, eyed the captain. “What's wrong, Jelon?”
“Just a little nervous,” Dax replied. “Maybe it isn't such a good idea of me working with another Vulcan ...”
“... considering how your last cooperation with a Vulcan ended,” the doctor finished. “Relax, Jelon. He's half Romulan. How bad can he be. Besides, this time you are in command.”
“You've got a point,” Dax said. “About that 'me in command' part, not the only half Vulcan part.”
“Come on, you just say that because you don't want to sound racist,” Peters teased.
“What, you got something against Vulcans?”
“Me? No. How could I? I've never really known a Vulcan.”
“Seriously?”
“Well, I have seen them, maybe examined one or two through the years,” Peters paused and sighed. “But, no, I've never actually learned to know one.”
“You're pulling my leg,” Dax protested. “You're a Starfleet medical officer, you must have worked with a Vulcan before.”
“Just didn't happen,” Peters said.
“What about the Academy? There must have been Vulcans attending your classes.”
“None I remember.”
“But they're born scientists.”
Peters smirked. “Sure, they're great scientists. Just not good physicians.”
“Now you sound racist.”
“It's true, though. I mean, have you ever heard of a Vulcan doctor?”
Dax thought about it. “I think I've read t there was a Vulcan medical officer on the EXCALIBUR once.”
“Right,” Peters said. “Once.”
“What about the Vulcan Medical Institute? Their work on memory restoration?”
Peters shrugged his shoulders. “Overrated.”
“You're really pulling my leg, aren't you?”
“Depends,” Peters replied. “Still nervous?”
“Feeling better.”
****
Ensign Sina stood in the living area of the Officer's quarters, which furniture seemed rather spartan, watching a sparkle of atoms coalescing into the form of a tall Vulcan male in a black Starfleet uniform and two standard Starfleet traveling bags. When the beaming process had ended she nodded smiling towards him. “Welcome aboard, Commander,” the young Deltan said. “I'm Ensign Sina.”
“Thank you, Ensign,” Serok replied, looking around . “These are my new quarters.”
It was a statement more than a question, but Sina still answered. “Yes, I hope they are to your satisfaction.”
“They are larger than I am used to,” Serok stated.
“If you want, I'll see if I can find quarters that are more to your liking,” Sina said hastily.
He looked at her. “No need, Ensign. I'll adjust.”
Sina nodded and motioned the commander to follow her into the bedroom. “You will find several uniforms of the new design in the closet. They should match your measurements.”
“I'm sure they will fit,” Serok said, noticing the Ensign's nervousness. “May I ask what your function on this ship is?”
The bald woman hesitated, groping for the right words. “My main post is navigator, but I am supplementing other departments from time to time. I still haven't decided which direction to go.”
“A generalist,” Serok noted. “It certainly has its benefits. Most captains are generalists.”
“Well, I'm far from being a captain,” Sina said, blushing.
“I did not say otherwise,” Serok replied.
The blushing turned to embarrassment, as the ensign realized that the Vulcan's comment was not meant as a compliment. “Yes, sir,” she said, trying not to let her emotions take control. “The captain asked to see you as soon as possible.”
****
Serok entered the captain's ready room. “You requested to see me, Captain?”
Dax looked up at the Vulcan, who was now wearing the new blue uniform. “Ah, yes. Commander Serok. Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Serok said.
“Take a seat,” Dax waved to one of the chairs on the other side of his desk.
The commander followed the invitation.
Dax scratched his jaw. “You, uh, wanted to be both chief science officer and XO. You think you can handle both jobs at the same time?”
“If I didn't, I would not have applied for both positions,” Serok said calmly.
“Yes, of course,” the Trill said. “That would be the logical assumption, wouldn't it?”
If Serok noticed the humor of the captain's comment, he did not show. “Do you wish me to resign from one of these positions?”
“No,” Dax said quickly. “If you say you can handle it, I'll trust you on that. For now, anyway.” His fingers tapped the desk nervously. “Say, do you know any Vulcan physicians?”
Serok's face showed only the slightest surprise. “Sir?”
“Oh, never mind,” Dax said quickly. “So, what's this anomaly all about?”
“We witnessed an energy construct forming itself. Apparently, it has been doing this since the red matter was released to the Hobus nova, but it has just recently gained a magnitude that makes it detectable by our scanners. It is a most intriguing development, as both red matter and the anomaly causing the Hobus nova to take on its size are still rather mysterious to us, therefore we cannot tell if this new energy construct is a result of the red matter reacting to the Hobus anomaly or vice versa. There's also the possibility there is no connection at all, but it is logical to presume such a connection for the moment. As it is, the construct seems to take the form of a subspace matrix.”
“Subspace matrix,” Dax repeated. “Are you telling me that this construct is going to give birth to a wormhole?”
“It is a bit early to say, but it is quite possible,” the science officer answered. “Nonetheless, Captain Leroy is already planning to claim the proposed wormhole for the Federation.”
“Figures,” Dax said. “Wormholes are pretty valuable. The wormhole to the Gamma Quadrant made Bajor into a major player.”
“It could prove to be of great value, but even if there will be a wormhole, we cannot predict where it will lead.”
At that moment, they were interrupted by a siren and Sagu's voice over the intercom: “Red alert! Captain Dax to the bridge!”
Both Dax and Serok jumped to their feet and headed towards the door. Arriving on the bridge, Dax's eyes were fixed to the view-screen showing several Reman ships, a few of them were Scimitar-class Warbirds. „Status report,“ he requested, stepping to his chair without taking his eyes from the screen. Serok took over the science station.
“Twelve Reman ships, three of them Scimitar-class,” Tahor barked “They must have been around for some time now and just de-cloaked. Our shields and weapon systems are fully powered.”
“Someone open a frequency to the HERALD,” Dax ordered. “Someone else, hail the Remans, request their business here.”
“We receive a message from one of the Scimitars,” Tahor said.
“Play,” Dax said.
The holographic image of a Reman appeared on the viewscreen, a humanoid with black and blue skin, bald pate and bat-like eyes and ears. He began to speak in a dark, deep voice: “I am Viceroy Shonaz, speaking on behalf of Praetor Ziron. We claim the developing wormhole in the name of the Reman Star Empire.”
Act 5
Dax stood up from his command chair and stepped towards the holographic Reman. “The Reman Star Empire?” he repeated. But before he could ask any questions, the holographic figure of Captain Leroy appeared.
“This is Captain William Leroy of the Federation Starship HERALD,” he said in a very belligerent tone. “The Romulan sector is under protection of the Federation and therefore it is us who claim the wormhole. We will not surrender it, especially not to a government we don't even recognize.”
Dax tried to reason with them. “Please, we do not want this situation to escalate. Not prematurely, anyway.” The last part was meant for Leroy. “I propose we get together to talk this over.”
Leroy stared at Dax as if the Trill was a total idiot. “Talk this over? These are Remans, for god's sake.”
“Yes, they are,” Dax replied. “And this sector happens to be their home.”
The viceroy looked with a hint of surprise at Dax. “It seems there is at least one of you worthy talking to. I accept your offer to negotiate, but I am not so naïve as to go onboard a Federation vessel.”
“Okay, let's talk now,” Dax said quickly. To Leroy he said: “There's no sense in fighting them, Captain Leroy. They outnumber us by far.”
“Yes,” the viceroy called out. “We could defeat you in a matter of minutes.”
“If you'd do that, though,” Dax said to the viceroy, “The Federation would declare war in a minute, and you'd be overrun by Starfleet in a matter of days. That can't be in the best interest of the Reman Star Empire.”
Shonaz looked at Dax. He knew the Trill spoke the truth, but was too proud to admit it.
“As I said,” Leroy cut in, “this sector is under protection of the Federation.”
“And as I said,” Dax shot back, “this is their home. We cannot take this from them without abandoning the ideals on which the Federation was founded.”
“But we haven't recognized their government.”
“Nonetheless, it is there, and we have to deal with it.” He turned back to the Reman. “Still, the Remans have benefited from Federation presence. This whole sector would have become part of the Klingon Empire long ago, if it weren't for Starfleet patrolling the area. And the Klingons will come as soon as we leave the sector in your hand.”
“You propose we simply give it to you?”
“No,” Dax said, trying to think fast. Suddenly, an idea crossed his mind. “On the contrary, I propose a joint jurisdiction.”
Shonaz looked at him in total surprise. He seemed to think about it. “Remans and Federation working together?”
“This is a mistake,” Leroy said.
“Stuff it,” Dax simply said. “As far as I see, this is the only way to resolve this thing without starting a war.”
“There is truth in what you say,” the Reman admitted. “We will grant you access to the wormhole, if you will do the same for us.”
“Agreed,” Dax said.
“Starfleet will never stand for this,” Leroy said.
“Knowing the Admiral, I think it will,” Dax replied.
****
Two hours later, Dax's prognosis proved right. The HERALD was to stay with the energy construct, with two more Starships scheduled to arrive within the day. The ENTERPRISE, on the other hand, would continue her mission elsewhere.
“That was pretty darn close,” Peters said. “How the hell did you do that?”
Dax shrugged his shoulders. “I've got some experience in diplomacy. Well, my symbiont part does. I just hope it won't be for nothing and this construct will actually become a wormhole.”
“I believe it will, Captain,” Serok said. “If my calculations are correct, the transformation of the construct into a wormhole will be complete in 194 days.”
“Well,” Peters said, “gives you something to look forward to.”
“But that's in six months,” Dax said. “Until then, there's still a whole lot of space in our neighborhood we have yet to explore.”
“Really?” Peters looked at him in surprise. “I would have thought with thousands of ships over the last 300 years, we would have covered it by now.”
“Well, let me tell you something,” Dax said. “Space is big. Really big. You just won't believe how big it is. I mean, you may think it's a long way down the corridor to sickbay, but that's just peanuts compared to space.”
“I was afraid of that,” was Peters's replied drily.
Space. The Final Frontier.
These are the Voyages of a new Starship ENTERPRISE.
Her renewed Mission:
To explore strange new Worlds,
to seek out new Life
and new Civilizations,
to boldly go where no one has gone before,
and beyond.
Don't miss the premier of season 1 coming this June:
"A Mind of Their own"
These are the Voyages of a new Starship ENTERPRISE.
Her renewed Mission:
To explore strange new Worlds,
to seek out new Life
and new Civilizations,
to boldly go where no one has gone before,
and beyond.
Don't miss the premier of season 1 coming this June:
"A Mind of Their own"
Liebe Leser,
was ihr gerade gelesen habt war die Pilot-Episode für meine Fanfiction-Serie “Star Trek Beyond”. Aber es gibt so viele verschiedene Fanfiction-Projekte um Star Trek, was unterscheidet meines von den anderen?
Der Unterschied ist das Ziel. “Star Trek Beyond” ist das, wie ich mir eine neue Star Trek-Serie vorstelle. Während die meisten Trek-Fanfictions sich mit den bereits bestehenden Charakteren auseinandersetzen, sich mit den großen Mächten der Föderation, den Romulanern, den Klingonen und den Borg befassen, soll “Star Trek Beyond” wieder das tun, was Star Trek ausgemacht hat. Zurück zu den Wurzeln bei gleichzeitigem Fortschreiten. Als “Star Trek” begann, gab es noch kein Star Trek-Universum. Es gab ein Raumschiff und seine Crew, und jede Episode ein neues, unglaubliches Abenteuer. Klingonen, Romulaner, die langjährigen Kriege und die Politik der Föderation kamen allesamt später hinzu. Mir fiel leider auf, dass sich Fandom und Franchise aber mehr und mehr mit dem Trek-Universum beschäftigten und dabei das Konzept “Star Trek” aus den Augen verloren. Und dies will ich ändern.
Dazu war meiner Ansicht nach kein Reboot nötig. Das originale Universum ist vollkommen in Ordnung, man muss nur die bereits zu bekannte Umgebung verlassen. Das 24. Jahrhundert ist bereits in drei TV-Serien mit jeweils sieben Staffeln, sowie in unzähligen Romanen, Comics und Fan-Projekten erforscht worden. Was mir nötig schien war ein erneuter Sprung in die Zukunft, wie er bereits zwischen der Original-Serie und “The Next Generation” stattfand. Und dies gab mir die Gelegenheit, die Kursänderung, die ich mit diesem Projekt anstrebe, auch innerhalb der Geschichte zu verdeutlichen. Starfleet musste sich erneuern, wie es Star Trek tun muss. Die Rückkehr zu alter Stärke, zu alten Idealen und dem “Sense of Wonder”. Es ist wieder Zeit, dorthin zu gehen, wo nie ein Mensch gewesen ist, anstatt immer nur zurückzukehren, wo andere schon gewesen sind, nur um zu sehen ob sich da irgendwas verändert hat.
Womit ich nicht sagen will, dass es nicht auch in dieser neuen Serie zusammenhängende Handlungsbögen geben wird. Zwar wird (fast) jede Episode eine in sich geschlossene Geschichte sein, aber die Charaktere und das Universum um sie herum wird sich verändern und weiterentwickeln. Der Pakt der Föderation mit den Remanern wird Konsequenzen haben, für das Universum dieser Serie wie auch für die Charaktere. Und ebenso werden spätere Ereignisse ihre Konsequenzen haben. Es gibt keinen Reset-Button.
Zu den Charakteren: Ich bin mit voller Absicht zum klassischen Dreier-Gestirn zurückgekehrt. Es ist kein Unfall oder Ideenlosigkeit, dass Captain Dax, Commander Serok und Dr. Peters an Kirk, Spock und McCoy erinnern. Das ist volle Absicht und eine bewusste kreative Entscheidung. Denn Mehr als alle anderen Charaktere symbolisiert dieses klassische Dreiergestirn den Charakter von “Star Trek”. Gleichzeitig wollte ich keine bloßen Kopien der bereits bekannten Charaktere abliefern. Es gibt große Unterschiede zwischen diesen neuen Charakteren und ihren Vorbildern, die sich im Laufe der Serie mehr und mehr herausstellen werden. Und die weiteren Charaktere haben ihre ganz eigene Art und werden sich dem Leser auch immer weiter öffnen.
Doch etwas entscheidendes fehlt noch. Was das klassische Star Trek wirklich ausgemacht hat, war die Vielseitigkeit der Serie. Ein Autor allein kann eine solche Vielseitigkeit nicht liefern.
Deshalb lade ich euch dazu ein, euch an “Star Trek Beyond” zu beteiligen. Mein Ziel ist nicht, die Serie als alleiniger Autor zu schaffen, sondern eher die Rolle eines “Executive Producer” oder “Story Editor” einzunehmen. Zwar werde ich die erste Staffel noch größtenteils allein bestreiten, doch es steht bereits eine Episode von einem anderen Autoren fest. Wenn ihr euch also beteiligen wollt, eine Idee für eine Trek-typische Kurzgeschichte habt, schickt mir eure Ideen per PN oder Email. Wenn sie mir gefallen, wird eure Episode unter eurem Namen (written by …) veröffentlicht.
Liefert aber nicht gleich fertige Episoden ab, sondern gebt erstmal in wenigen Sätzen eure Idee an, da ich nicht garantieren kann, dass ich diese Episode auch wirklich ins Programm nehme. Möglicherweise widerspricht eure Idee meinen Plänen für den weiteren Verlauf der Serie. Vielleicht ist bereits eine Episode in Arbeit, die eurer Idee zu ähnlich ist. Und wenn ich eure Idee ins Programm nehme, so müsste ich euch ein paar Vorgaben zur weiteren Entwicklung des übergreifenden Handlungsbogens und der Charaktere machen, weshalb es Sinn macht, dass ihr eure Episode erst schreibt, wenn ihr diese Vorgaben kennt.
Die Serie wird außerdem auf Englisch veröffentlicht. Eine deutschsprachige Veröffentlichung könnte bei entsprechender Nachfrage folgen, aber die Erstveröffentlichung wird auf Englisch stattfinden. Wenn eure Englischkenntnisse nicht ausreichen, so ist das nicht schlimm. Eure Episode wird auf jeden Fall Korrektur gelesen, bevor sie veröffentlicht wird.
Ich hoffe sehr, dass ihr der Serie eine Chance gebt, sowohl als Leser, wie auch (eventuell) als Mit-Autor.
Bis zur letzten Grenze, und darüber hinaus,
Kai Brauns
).
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