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John Randall
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OFFICIAL LOG
LIEUTENANT JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(Personal Log Stardate 10812.12)
John continued to recover in sickbay from his injuries sustained during his fight with a Klingon
during his covert mission for Starfleet Intelligence. This particular morning, however, was proving
to be more painful than any he had experienced so far. He turned his head slightly, and saw the
form of Jeff Michaels, his engineering colleague and friend, walking toward his bed.
Michaels arrived at his bedside, and smiled down at his friend. "Hey, John," he said. "How you
doing?" John smiled weakly up at him, and said, "Hey, Jeff. A little better now, thanks." Michaels
cocked his head to one side, and looked down at Randall. "You seem a little down about something,
my friend. What is it?" John sighed tiredly, and said, "I'm just tired, Jeff. My head's killing me, and my
leg hurts pretty good, too. Just drains me fighting the pain. Don't worry about me, I'll be all right."
Michaels nodded and said, "Well, I won't bother you, then. You rest up and get well, we miss you
in engineering." Randall nodded wearily, and gave a small smile. "I'll be back before too long, Jeff.
Say hi to Steve Davis for me." Michaels nodded again. "I'll do that, John. Speedy recovery, my
friend." He lifted a hand, and left sickbay. John watched him go, then leaned back into his biobed,
his hands gripping the sheets tightly as a new wave of pain lanced through his body.
A little while later, but what seemed to be many hours to the Starfleet lieutenant, a nurse came to
his bedside. She looked at the readout on the medical panel, then looked down at Randall. "How
are you doing, Lieutenant?" she asked, noticing the tension in John's body, and the way his hands
were gripping the bedsheets. Randall replied through clenched teeth, "N-Not v-very good, r-right now,
I-I'm afraid." The nurse heard the pain in his voice, immediately filled a hypospray, and said," Well,
it's time for your pain meds; this should help."
She administered the hypo to the side of John's neck, and within a few seconds, or so it seemed
to Randall, the pain lessened noticably. He sighed in relief, and relaxed into his bed; then his eyes
widened a bit, and he looked at the nurse. "Nurse, my leg feels wet and hot," he said. The nurse
raised her eyebrows, and peeled back the covers. She frowned at what she saw; there was some
oozing along the suture line when John's leg injury had been sewn up. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be
right back," she said brightly, and went to get some ointment from the sealing dispenser.
John, lying in the bed, groaned mentally at the nurse's attempt at humor, then thought, 'Well, she's
just trying to make you feel better.' He also knew that he was to blame for his leg being messed up
again. Earlier, he had made himself get out of bed, and limped over to the intercom on the wall to
issue an order to Jeff Michaels; now, he couldn't even remember what the order had been; something
to do with the sensors, he thought, but wasn't for sure. He sat up enough in his bed to where he could
see his leg, and closed his eyes resignedly.
The nurse came back with the ointment, and began to apply it to his leg, covering the ointment with
new bandaging. As she worked, she eyed the lieutenant from the corner of her eye, and said, "You
know, if I didn't know better, I'd say someone has been on his feet before the doctor said it was okay."
John gave a small smile, nodded, and said, "Guilty as charged. Won't happen again, though; it hurts
too much now." The nurse finished her work, and put an ultraviolet light on his leg to seal the bandages.
She smiled at him, and said, "Your secret is safe with me, Lieutenant."
John smiled his thanks, then said, "Nurse, would it be possible to get something to make me sleep
for a while? I'm REALLY tired, and it feels like I have no strength whatsoever." The nurse nodded, and
said, "I'm sure we can come up with something." She made some adjustments on the computer
medical panel, looked at the results, then went to the dispenser and filled a hypospray. She came
back to his bedside, and applied the hypo to his neck. "There, I think and hope you should have some
pleasant dreams, now," she said.
John nodded, smiled wearily, and whispered, "Thank you, Nurse." He then closed his eyes, and
waited for the sedative to kick in. The nurse thought to herself, 'This man is worn out. He must have
really been in pain.' She re-covered him with the bedsheets, and patted him on the shoulder,
whispering, "I'll be here when you awaken, Lieutenant." She walked away, then turned to watch him
again, and saw his body gently relax as sleep claimed him. She smiled to herself, and continued on
her rounds.
END LOG
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OFFICIAL LOG
LIEUTENANT JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(Personal Log, Stardate 11207.29)
John continued to lay unconscious on the biobed in sickbay. Dr. Hanson
continued tractioning his fractured skull back into place, and the nurse finished
her test on the bottom of his foot. His toes curled during the test, and the nurse
and doctor smiled at each other, Gretchen having noticed the movement. "That's
a good sign," said the doctor. "Sometimes I like the old fashioned tests the best."
She finished her work on John's skull, and said to the nurse, "That's as far
as I want to go right now. The neurological indicators are good, and I don't want to
press my luck. We can get down to fine tinkering when he's regained some strength."
The nurse nodded, and said," Yes, Doctor. Shall I move him to the recovery room?"
Gretchen was about to answer when, suddenly, there came a low, soft moan from
John. The nurse and the doctor looked at each other, startled, then Gretchen moved
quickly to Randall's bedside and took his hand, squeezing it. "Lieutenant, can you
hear me?" she asked.
The nurse's eyes widened slightly as John actually turned his head a fraction,
uttering another soft moan. Gretchen looked at the nurse. "I'm gonna take that as a
yes," she said. She leaned closer to Randall. "Don't try to talk yet," she whispered.
"Give my hand a squeeze back if you understand me." To her secret delight, John's
eyes fluttered briefly, he moaned again, and squeezed her hand very slightly. The
doctor smiled slightly, and squeezed his hand again. "That's fabulous, John," she
said. "You're on the Challenger. I'm Dr. Hanson. You're home now." John actually
managed to turn his head more, moaned, and whispered faintly, "Chal-Challenger?"
"Yes, John, the Challenger," replied the doctor. "Although this doctor/patient
thing isn't going to work if you don't do what I say. Now, no more talking. We'll have
plenty of time for that later." Randall moaned softly, and nodded once, but winced as
he did. Gretchen saw it immediately, and said, "Nurse, a hypo with 25ccs of dolamine."
She leaned over John again, and said, "We're giving you something for the pain, and
moving you to the honeymoon suite. I want you to take a nap for a while and I'll check in
on you a bit later." John squeezed her hand slightly again, and then relapsed into
unconsciousness.
Gretchen told the nurse, "Notify me the second he wakes up again." The nurse
nodded, and administered the hypo to John's neck. He was then moved to the recovery
room by the orderlies. Gretchen moved over to the wall intercom, and thumbed the toggle.
"Sickbay to Captain Ja'lale." The captain's voice came back to her. "Go ahead, Doctor."
"Captain, I have great news about Lieutenant Randall. His wounds are stablized for the time
being, and his neurological functions seem to be intact. He regained consciousness briefly
and responded to his surroundings. I've given him a sedative and pain relief, and we'll keep
our fingers crossed." "Well done, Doctor," replied the captain. "I'm glad to hear that. Keep me
appraised of his condition, please." "With pleasure, sir," Gretchen said. "Sickbay out."
A little while later, in the recovery room, John's eyes began to flutter, and he moaned
softly. The nurse heard the maon, checked on him briefly, then went to the wall intercom.
"Doctor, the patient is beginning to awaken," she said. Gretchen, who had been resting for
a short time, jumped out of her chair, left her office, and hurried to the recovery room. John's
eyes came fully open, looked at the sickbay ceiling, and had no idea where he was. The
doctor approached his biobed, pulled aside the stasis curtain, and saw the look of confusion
on her patient's face. She took his hand in hers as she leaned over him slightly. "John, it's
all right," she soothed. "Do you remember where you are?"
When Randall heard her voice, he knew then where he was. His eyes refocused, and
became clearer. He turned his head slightly, saw Gretchen's face, and relaxed a bit, knowing
and remembering who she was. He smiled slightly. "Dr. Hanson," he whispered. "Am-Am I
on Challenger?" The doctor smiled back at him. "Yes, you still are," she said. "How's your
pain level?" "My head hurts, and my leg hurts," replied Randall. "Is the Klingon still around?"
A look of consternation came over the doctor's face, and she quickly turned to the nurse.
"Get his pain meds ready," she breathed. The nurse nodded, and began filling a hypo. Hanson
turned back to Randall. "I'm going to give you something for the pain again," she told him, "but
this time it won't make you sleep. As for a Klingon, no one fitting that description has come
through this sickbay."
"Tell-Tell the captain to be on the lookout for a cloaked Klingon ship," said John wearily.
"I had a fight with one, that's how I ended up like this." He then winced, and the nurse immediately
administered the hypo. "Just relax and let the medication do its work," said Gretchen. "I'll inform
the captain about this Klingon." John gave a slight nod, and his head fell to the side as he closed
his eyes. Gretchen looked down at him with great concern. There were no reports of any Klingons,
she thought. John, maybe you're not doing as well as I thought.
END LOG
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OFFICIAL LOG
LIEUTENANT JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(Personal Log Stardate 11208.09)
The medical freighter Pasteur arrived at the coordinates of the
Challenger. John was unconscious in the freighter's sickbay; the
staff having done all they could for him. He needed better facilities
and a higher quality of care than the freighter could give. But, the
Pasteur had saved his life, and John had been grateful for that before
he went unconscious.
John's vital signs had deterioated during the trip, however, and
his breathing was noticably ragged and weak. The Pasteur, on orders
from Challenger's chief medical officer, Dr. Gretchen Hanson, was
preparing to beam him directly to the Challenger's sickbay. John was
placed on an anti-grav unit, and was placed on the transporter dais
of the Pasteur. He then was beamed to the sickbay transporter dais
of the Challenger.
Dr. Hanson went into action as John shimmered into existence
aboard Challenger. "Get him over to the diagnostic table, stat!" she
barked, and the nurses and orderlies did just that. The anti-grav unit
was beamed back to the Pasteur. Hanson surveyed Randall's condition
as he was placed on the table, and shook her head worriedly as she took
in the bright red bandage that had been wrapped around John's head,
his uniform torn and dirty in several places, and a long gash on his left
leg running from his ankle to just above the knee. "How did this happen?"
she asked no one in particular. "Did any information come over with him?"
None of the staff could answer her; she sighed loudly and went
over to John's side. "Nurse, activate the neural stablizer, gently," she
said in a calmer tone of voice. "Then I want to get a good look at that
head wound." The nurse nodded, and said, "His vital signs are weak, but
they are holding steady, Doctor." Gretchen nodded, and looked down at
Randall, her face starting to betray her worry. She was glad that John was
back from his mission, horrified at his condition, and getting angrier by
the second because she had no information on what had happened to
the young engineer.
As the nurse activated the stablizer, and began working on Randall's
head, Gretchen finally had had enough, and went over to the wall intercom.
"Sickbay to bridge!" she barked. The captain's voice came back to her.
"Bridge here," he said. "Captain, does the supply ship that brought Lieutenant
Randall here have a medical staff?" she asked. Ja'lale replied, "Yes, Doctor,
they do, but they weren't used to injuries of his nature. They did the best
they could." "Captain, may I talk to the doctor or whoever is in charge on
that ship?" asked Gretchen. "Yes, doctor, you may," said Ja'lale. "Good
luck."
Gretchen squared her shoulders, and said, "Challenger to medical
supply vessel. This is Dr. Gretchen Hanson. I need to speak to whoever
gave first treatment to Lieutenant John Randall." A few seconds went by,
then a voice came over the intercom. "Challenger, this is Dr. Thomas of the
medical freighter Pasteur." "Thank you, doctor," said Hanson. "Can you
give me any information on the cause of Lieutenant Randall's injuries, and
what first treatment you gave him?" The nurse handed a medical tricorder
to Gretchen as she finished speaking. The doctor looked at the results of the
scan, and got even more angry when she saw them.
"Doctor, he was beamed aboard from an unidentified vessel," said
Thomas. "We received him in our sickbay. There was a massive head wound
on his left side, obviously covered in blood, and a long gash running down
his left leg." "Yes, I've discovered the head wound already," said Hanson
tightly. "Do you know how he acquired it?" "The only thing I was told, Doctor,
the officer had been involved in a covert mission that ran into a nest of
Romulans," came the shocking answer, and Hanson recoiled involuntarily.
Romulans! she thought, as she quickly glanced over to Randall. There
doesn't seem to be any signs of a disruptor, unless some big lug of a
Centurion cracked him over the head with a pistol.
She quickly beckoned the nurse, who came swiftly over. "I'll need
the bone/fuser generator, and the number two forceps," she said. The
nurse nodded, and hurried off. Gretchen thumbed the 'comm again.
"Doctor, thank you for getting him here at all; we'll take it from here."
"The only thing we could do, Doctor, was stablize him as much as we could,
and get him to a hospital ship," said Thomas. "We did the best we could, I'm
sorry we couldn't do more." "No apologies, Doctor; I'm sure you did everything
you could," said Hanson. "Challenger out."
She went back over to John, whose breathing was still shallow and rugged.
"Nurse, start the patient on breathing assist," she said. "I'm not excited about
those rasping sounds." The nurse nodded, and got the apparatus connected
to Randall's face. Gretchen moved to the head of the bed, and began to unwrap
the bandage around John's head. She had a hand-held cauterizer with her as
well, and repaired lesions on his head as she came to them. She was silently
aghast at how red the bandage was, and thought to herself, He has lost so much
blood. She finished unwrapping the bandage, and stared with shock and dismay
at the left side of Randall's skull.
"Nurse, initiate a sterile field generator about the head and shoulders, please,"
she said in a wavery voice, and the nurse looked at her a second before performing
the task. Gretchen immediately set the parameters for a neurological scan, and then
looked with great concern at the young lieutenant, her eyes momentarily filling
with tears. "No head wound is good," she breathed to herself, "but the left side is
cognitive, and the motor function appears intact." She then brushed a lock of hair
back from his eyes. "John, John, John," she breathed. "What have you gotten
yourself into? What happened to you?"
The computer beeped, and she raised her head to look at the results of the
neurological scan. She silently gave a huge sigh of relief as the scan revealed no
permanent damage had been done. That's the first bit of good news I've gotten
since we started this thing, she thought. The nurse then came up beside her with
a medical tricorder. "Doctor, the lung scan appears clear, I would say his difficulty
breathing is muscular," she said. Out of the corner of her eye, Gretchen saw that
the chief of engineering, Lieutenant Eddie Freeman, had come in and was staring
at Randall. She knew Freeman would not interfere with the ongoing treatment of
John, and, a few seconds later, he turned and left. She then smiled at the nurse.
"That's probably right," she said. "The breathing assist should help that.
Meanwhile, 25ccs of a local anti-inflammatory around the chest wall." The nurse
nodded, and went to prepare the hypospray. Gretchen then took the forceps and
began to probe the edges of the head wound, beginning with the smallest fragment,
tractioning it out of the wound, and then fusing it back into a stable position. The
nurse applied the hypospray to Randall's arm, and, within a few moments, John's
breathing became noticably calmer and easier. The nurse looked over to Gretchen.
"The patient's breathing easier, Doctor," she reported, and Hanson nodded.
"That's good," she smiled as she tractioned another fragment out of the wound,
and fused it into a stable position.
After about a half hour, the doctor stood back, mopped her brow, and surveyed
her work, nodding, pleased with what she saw. "Nurse, I want you to give the lieutenant
an old-fashioned neurology test. Take something and probe the bottom of his foot and
see if it curls up. It's an ancient test, I know, but I trust it over the fancy instruments
we have," she said. The nurse smiled, and said, "Right away, Doctor." For the first
time since they had brought Randall's body in, Gretchen allowed the first flicker of
hope to cross her mind. He might come back whole to us, she thought. This next
test, she thought, will go a long way to deciding if he does or not.
END LOG
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OFFICIAL LOG
LT. (j.g.) JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(Personal Log Stardate 11206.17)
The doctor and Randall materialized at a site that showed little signs
of work. The Argonian winked at John and motioned for the engineer to
follow him. They walked into the woods for about a quarter of a mile, and
came out into another clearing which clearly contained the wreckage of an
ancient ship. There were pieces of debris still strewn around the clearing,
but what drew John's eye was a console leaning against a nearby tree. The
doctor saw Randall staring at the console, and gave his version of a human
smile.
I see you have located the reason for your presence here, lieutenant.
John nodded slowly, barely turning his head. "I guess that's what I'm
here to look at," he breathed.
It is indeed. Let us take a closer look, shall we?
John nodded again, and the doctor took him gently by the elbow, leading
him to the console. Randall looked it over, then focused on the writing that
labeled each switch and button. After a moment or two, he looked over at the
doctor. "The admiral was wrong, Doctor," he said. "This writing is ancient Cyrillic,
a dialect of the Russian language on Earth."
Are you sure, lieutenant?
John nodded. "This is one of the languages I speciallized in at Starfleet Academy,"
he replied. "I'd know these symbols anywhere. This console would have been in the
engine room of the ship. There are controls for the propulsion units and also the
storage tanks which housed their fuel. Doctor, this ship ran on hydrogen, if you can
believe it." The doctor gave him a sharp glance.
I will ask once more, lieutenant. Are you absolutely sure about your findings?
John nodded. "I'd bet my short career on it, sir. From the looks of the symbols
and the writing depicted here, and from the alloy that this console was made from, I
would say this ship dates back to the early 21st century on Earth." The Argonian
stared at the young engineer. "The time span would be about right for this ship to have
gotten this far into space, sir. It would have taken them 22 years just to leave Earth's
solar system, which was just beginning to be explored and colonized in those days."
How long would you say these remains have been here, lieutenant?
"That's hard to say, Doctor. We don't really know what percentage of the speed
of light was for this ship, and remember, this ship was in space before Zefram Cochrane
had discovered the secret of the warp drive. As a matter of fact, I would hazard a guess
that Cochrane was still a child when this ship was launched. And, you might recall, about
halfway through the 21st century, World War III happened on Earth. This ship was way
before that time," said John. "But, at the same time, this ship was very innovative for that
time period as well. I wonder how long they were able to stay in contact with Earth.
And I have another question, Doctor. This ship would have to have been manned to
operate the ship systems. We have wreckage here; there should have been human remains
as well. Where are they?" The Argonian slowly gave his version of a nod.
You are right, lieutenant. I don't think anyone had thought about that.
John looked at him. "Here's another; what made the ship crash? We know from history
the Romulans and the Klingons both were already spacefarers by that time. Is it possible
this craft was shot down because it would have been what we humans call 'easy pickings'?"
Or it could have been something as simple as an asteroid hit, lieutenant.
John nodded. "It could have been, sir, but I don't think so. Look closely at this little
section of the console here." The doctor moved to Randall's side to get a closer look.
That has the characteristics of a burn or scorch mark, John.
Randall nodded. "I think this ship was shot down and plundered for whatever it held,
doctor. There may not be any human remains because they may have been vaporized."
Suddenly, a chuckle sounded from behind them, and the two men whirled to find disruptors
pointed at them by five Romulans and a solitary Klingon.
"An astute observation, my human friend," said one of the Romulans. He then turned
slightly toward the Klingon, who had a murderous look on his face. "I told you, Krenn, that
site was just a little too tidy for my taste. This is what we've been looking for." The Klingon
growled low in his throat. "Federation scum!" he spat, and then pointed at Randall. "You
will tell me all you know about the ship that crashed here!" John stared back at the Klingon.
"Why are you interested in a 200-year-old vessel?" he asked. The Klingon roared, jumped
forward, lowered his disruptor, and swung his fist at the young engineer.
Randall evaded the punch, and whirled with a kick to the side of the stunned Klingon's
head. It crashed to the ground, and looked up with surprise at the Starfleet engineer. The
Romulan who had spoken earlier was grinning ear to ear. "Well, well, our Starfleet friend has
hand-to-hand combat abilities," he said. "Interesting. Tell me, Lieutenant, I see by the pips on
your collar. Would you be interested in taking on my Klingon friend here in a match of combat?"
John glowered at the Romulan. "What's to stop you or your compatriots there from blasting me
with a disruptor during this 'contest'?"
"Oh, my young Starfleet friend, there would be no honor in that," the Romulan said smoothly.
John spat on the ground in front of the Romulan's feet. "What do you know about honor?" he
growled menacingly. The Romulan's face instantly went hard, and he stepped closer to the young
engineer. "Do not make this any harder on yourself than it already is, human," he said angrily. "I,
for one, think that this Klingon will make short work of you. However," and the Romulan stepped
back two paces, "I admire your courage. You are outnumbered, yet you show no fear, unless you
are good at mastering your emotions. I will give you my word of honor that none of us will fire upon
you, or interfere with you in your match. Do you accept?"
John stared at the Romulan for a few seconds, then said, "Very well, I accept. What is my
incentive to win this match?" The Romulan gave an oily smile. "We will let you live. After we
interrogate you, of course. But, I will also give you my word of honor on this: if you somehow
best the Klingon, we will administer aid to you, we will interrogate you with no physical interaction
whatsoever, and we will let your friend live also. Is this not fair?" John stared at the Klingon, who
glowered back at him, then turned back to the Romulan. "It is fair, and accepted," he said, knowing
he was in for the fight of his life; maybe for his life.
The Romulan smiled widely, and nodded. "Excellent. I admire your courage even more,
Lieutenant. May I have the honor of knowing your name?" The young engineer squared his
shoulders, and looked the Romulan straight in the eyes. "Lieutenant John Randall, Starfleet serial
number 12297-4AQU7." To John's surprise, the Romulan stiffened at hearing his name. "Randall?"
he said. "That's correct," John replied. The Romulan narrowed his eyes. "Hm; thank you, my
Starfleet friend. Now, let the combat begin! No weapons!", and this was directed at the Klingon,
who was reaching for his bat'legh. "Hand to hand! Let us see who is better, Klingon or human!"
The Klingon growled, then took his weapons belt off, and also the sheath that contained his blade.
John took his engineer's belt off, and drew a deep breath. The Argonian quickly moved to his side.
Are you sure about this, lieutenant?
John looked at him and shrugged. "It's not like I have a choice, Doctor," he whispered. The
Argonian nodded, and Randall warily ventured out into the center of the clearing, where the Klingon
stood, awaiting him. John sized up his opponent; at a guess, the Klingon probably outweighed him
by at least 25 pounds, and was about 3 inches taller. He sported a muscular physique, and was lean at the waist. The Starfleet lieutenant knew he would have to rely on his speed and cunning; in no way could he go toe-to-toe with the big Klingon. Just hope he isn't too fast, thought John, as the
two beings squared off in the center of the clearing. He tried to remember what he had read in the
Academy about any Klingon weak spots, and also what he had read in Captain Kirk's books about
the Klingon race.
The Klingon roared, and lunged at John, who danced away, and landed a kick to Krenn's
exposed side. The Klingon grunted, and Randall knew he had at least gotten the big man's
attention. He moved in quickly, and shot two quick right hands to Krenn's jaw, which, if anything,
only infuriated the Klingon more. Krenn counter-lashed out, and John took a fist to the jaw, which
knocked him backward. He rubbed the tender spot, and thought, yep, the power goes to him. Krenn
then moved with surprising speed, and delivered a roundhouse right to Randall's head, knocking
him backwards and down. Even the Romulans cringed a little at the sound of the blow.
John lay on his back, trying to re-gather his wits, and saw the Klingon leaping at him. He
managed to roll out of the way, and Krenn landed on his stomach with an 'oof', losing his breath
momentarily. Randall spun his body around, and brought his heel down on the back of the Klingon's
neck, causing a yell of surprise and pain from the big man. The Romulans looked at each other,
nodding at the human's resiliance so far. John rolled away, and got to his feet. The Klingon was
doing the same, and again the two men circled each other. John thought, this time around, there
was a measure of respect in the Klingon's eyes. There was no amusement there now.
Krenn made a move, John tried to dance away, but he was more sluggish this time. The Klingon
caught him with a fist to the shoulder, then one to the side of the head again, and Randall crashed
backward in a heap. The Klingon's power was beginning to tell on the young engineer, and John knew it. Krenn did not leap this time; he came in slowly and steadily. Randall rolled backward to avoid him, but the big man kept coming. John waited, and, as the Klingon stepped close to him, suddenly spun and knocked Krenn's feet out from under him. The Klingon yelled in surprise again, and hit the ground hard; then he yelled in pain as John brought his foot up, and kicked Krenn squarely in the nose.
The big man rolled away from John, and got to his feet; he put a hand to his nose, and it came
away stained purple, the color of Klingon blood. John was bleeding from the head where the two
crashing blows from the Klingon had scored. The young engineer also was starting to see double, and knew he was in trouble. The Klingon roared as he saw his blood on his hand, and came like a freight train straight for Randall. John was able to dance away this time, and Krenn roared angrily as he came up with nothing but air. He turned, and Randall caught him in the side of the head with a spinning roundhouse kick. Unfortunately, the spin addled John's wits that much more, and he lost his balance after the kick connected, crashing to the ground himself.
Krenn shook his head angrily, rolled close to John, and delivered another blow to Randall's head,
the same place where the other blows had landed before. John actually felt something give way in his skull, and knew he was about finished. Both men staggered to their feet, and the Klingon landed yet another blow to John's head. The young engineer knew it was now or never for him; he shook his head vigorously, and got a moment of clarity. John stepped back, then brought his right foot up and connected squarely under the chin of Krenn. The Klingon's eyes rolled up as he crashed to the ground unconscious. Randall also crashed to the ground, but landed on his left side, his already damaged head striking the ground, and also rendering him unconscious.
Randall's uniform was torn during the fight, and the ground had opened a long gash in his left
leg. There were bruises on his left side going all the way down to his waist. When John regained
consciousness, he was lying on a bed in a medical sickbay. A doctor was holding an instrument over
him, tracing along his leg. John opened his mouth, and said weakly, "Where am I?" The doctor looked up in surprise, and said gently, "You are aboard the medical freighter Pasteur en route to your ship Challenger." John looked around briefly, which caused spots to swirl before his eyes, then said, "How did I get here?" The doctor said, "We responded to a distress call from an unknown vessel. You were discovered lying in a clearing, bleeding from your head and leg. We beamed you aboard, scanned your ID, discovered who you were, and immediately set course for your ship. Now, I'm going to give you a shot to put you to sleep. You've been very badly hurt, Lieutenant Randall, and you need more care than we can offer you." The doctor loaded a hypo, and shot it into John's arm. The young engineer went unconscious almost immediately, and the doctor thought to himself, This young man is lucky to be alive.
He finished working on John's leg, looked over the engineer for a moment, then shook his head,
and went to his next patient. The nurse came, wrapped a bandage around Randall's head, put salve on the gash on his leg, and gently wrapped John's chest and back. She stepped back, and surveyed her patient. This man was put through a wringer, she thought, then hurried to her next patient. A few hours later, the freighter came into hailing distance of Challenger, and the starship learned their engineer was on board.
END LOG
-
OFFICIAL LOG
LT. (j.g.) JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(Personal Log Stardate 11206.10)
The Starholme arrived at Beta Octavius IV some 6 hours later. "Dr.
Jones" contacted the spaceport and requested clearance to land at a
specific set of coordinates. He was told he had been cleared by Admiral
Baldwin of Starfleet Command, and permission was given. The doctor
and John looked at each other, and a mental sigh found its way into the
engineer's mind. John nodded back, and smiled slightly.
The ship landed near a dilapildated structure in the center of a
wooded clearing. The two men checked their bracelets, and the doctor
beamed out first. John then received the coordinates in his head from
the doctor, went through the routine, and, in a flash, was standing beside
the Argonian. The doctor instantly put a finger to his lips, and the young
lieutenant froze. About fifteen seconds later, Randall heard voices in the
nearby woods. The doctor moved to the entrance of the rundown building,
and motioned to John to follow him.
The two men quickly found places to hide, and John was glad he had
his personal (slightly illegal) phaser Mark II with him. His hand hovered near
the weapon clipped to his engineering belt as the voices came closer to them.
Surprisingly, the beings speaking with each other were conversing in Federation
Standard. "I tell you, it is nearby," came a gravelly, aggressive voice, and John's
eyebrows went up as he recognized the voice as belonging to a Klingon. Then,
the young engineer's blood ran cold as he heard the next voice.
"So you say, Krenn," the voice said. John instantly tensed as he knew that
voice was unmistakably Romulan. "We have found nothing so far." "Do you
doubt my word, T'Shorn?" came an angry reply. "Of course not," came the
velvety, honeyed tones of the Romulan, and John closed his eyes, fighting the
replusion swelling up inside him. The Argonian must have sensed Randall's
reaction, and turned his head slightly inside his hood.
Lieutenant, are you all right?
John shook his head negatively. I loathe Romulans, Doctor.
I see. Try to control your emotions. they will not do you any good at the
present time. And, by the way, nice projection there. Well done.
John relaxed somewhat at the compliment, and nodded. "But we must
find something soon, or even you would admit that this search may prove
fruitless," said the Romulan. The voices were coming through the opening of
the rundown structure, and the young engineer knew the two conversing were
standing just outside of it. "My source has never been wrong about anything
before," came the menacing tone of the Klingon. "We will find it." "As you wish,"
replied the Romulan. "Let us rest a bit first, then we will renew the search."
"Bah!" roared the Klingon. "You green-skinned fools have no stamina at all!
Not like us Klingons!"
"It is true, you have remarkable stamina, my friend," soothed the Romulan
as they entered the structure. The foot falls were unmistakable on the wooden
floor, and John's fingers closed about the butt of his phaser pistol. "But, do not
forget, there is only one of you, and there are five of us." The doctor and John
looked at each other, and for the first time, Randall saw the Argonian's facial
features. A mane of white hair adorned the scalp of the being, and the eyes were
dark green, no whites at all. The face was strongly framed, and, to Randall's eye,
wrinkled in wisdom as well. They looked at each other in surprise and alarm, and,
just then, heard other voices coming toward the building.
"Hah!" sneered the Klingon. "I do not fear any of your kind, much less how
many of you there are! It will be a glorious battle!" John then heard the rasp of
steel being drawn, and realized the Klingon was probably carrying a bat'legh, the
weapon of choice for their race. The other voices quickly died as footsteps sounded
on the wooden floor, and John knew the other Romulans had arrived. "Now, let's
not jump to anything, Krenn," said the Romulan. "Let me interrogate my colleagues
on whether they have found anything first, yes?" There was a few seconds of
heavy breathing, then obviously the Klingon agreed, because the Romulan began
speaking again.
"So, Stron, did you discover anything?" "Yes, my lord," came the reply. "There
appears to have been some activity to the west not far from here. There are signs of
digging, and something was removed from that area. We will need to transport back
to the ship to obtain the instruments to more closely examine the area." There was a
moment of silence, then the first Romulan said, "Very well. Get what you need, and
come back down quickly. Krenn and I will meet you there, yes?" The question was
obviously directed at the Klingon, and agreed upon. "Excellent. Give me the coordinates,
and hurry back." "At once, my lord," said the second Romulan, and John heard
footsteps going away from his hiding place. A few seconds later, an order was given in
Romulan, and there was a chiming sound.
"So, my friend, your source is proving to be true with his news," said the Romulan.
"If there was any doubt that I was expressing, I apologize sincerely." John heard metal
rasp again, then the Klingon said, "All right then, let us go to this place, and see what we
find." "Agreed," said the Romulan, and the footsteps sounded again, which stopped as
the two beings left the building. The two men waited about a minute, then rose from their
hiding place, John giving a huge sigh of relief. "Well," he said in a low voice, "I'm glad
that's over with, and they're gone. Thank you for the pep talk about my emotions, Doctor.
I will endeavour to do better in the future."
Some emotions are better handled than others, my friend. I understand that all too
well.
John nodded. "They obviously have found something," he began, but then broke
off as he saw the Argonian try to twist his mouth in a smile. "What?" asked the young
engineer.
They have discovered what I planted to keep them away from the true site.
John grinned in disbelief. "You planted that?" he asked disbelievingly. The Argonian
gave his version of a human nod. "Well, Doctor, I'm impressed again. You obviously have
knowledge of this sort; you've done this before, I believe."
What is the saying you humans have? This isn't my first rodeo?
John covered his mouth to hide the laughter behind it. "You have picked up the idioms
of human speech quite well, Doctor. My compliments."
Thank you, lieutenant. I continue to learn them. Come, let us go. The true site of the
remains the admiral was telling you about is northwest of here.
John adjusted his engineer's belt, and nodded. "Ready when you are, Doctor." The
Argonian tapped his bracelet, pushed his lever, and was gone. The coordinates appeared
inside John's stone; he duplicated the doctor's procedure, and was gone as well.
END LOG
TO BE CONTINUED
-
OFFICIAL LOG
LT.(j.g.) JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(Personal Log Stardate 11206.03)
John and the others arrived at the Antares spaceport. He was handed
some clothing by "Dr. Jones" and told telepathically that he could not be seen
in a Starfleet uniform where they were going. John nodded, and found a place
inside the spaceport to change. The clothing was little more than loose-fitting
robes, with a turban of sorts, and a scarf to wrap around your neck and/or
face.
Randall asked if he would be able to take along any instruments to aid
him, and was told his tricorder and communicator was all he could take. The
young lieutenant clipped both pieces of hardware to his belt, and pulled his
robes down over them. He came back out into the lobby, where he was
greeted with nods of approval by everyone. Baldwin strolled over to him, and
said, "Take great care, Lieutenant. This is a very delicate mission; you will be
more throughly briefed by 'Dr. Jones.' I expect nothing but your best, Mr. Randall.
Don't let me down." John stared back at the admiral, and said, "Aye, sir; I will
endeavor not to."
Baldwin clapped him on the shoulder, then turned and made his way to the
other end of the spaceport. John turned to the Argonian known as "Dr. Jones."
"Are we ready, sir?" he asked.
We are ready, Lieutenant Randall. My ship is this way. Come.
John nodded and followed the Argonian to a side door of the spaceport.
When they walked through, the young lieutenant's eyes went wide as he stared at
a ship that was half the size of a Constitution-class starship. It was painted black,
and in white paint near the bow, the name Starholme almost jumped out at you.
Randall thought the sleek, slender twin nacelles at the rear of the craft meant it
would be capable of some pretty impressive speeds. "Dr. Jones" stopped a few
feet away from the craft, and turned to look at him.
Do you like my craft, Lieutenant?
John nodded slowly, his eyes still travelling over the hull of the ship. "This
is very impressive, Doctor," he said. "Is she capable of high warp speeds?"
At one time, lieutenant, the ship could attain a maximum speed of warp 6.
But lately, I've had trouble achieving and keeping a speed of warp 4.
"If you wouldn't mind, sir, I could take a look at your engines," offered Randall.
I was hoping you would make just such an offer, John. Please feel free.
The young lieutenant nodded and smiled. "So how do we get aboard, Doctor?"
The Argonian beckoned him over, and clipped a sort of bracelet around his right wrist.
Embedded in the center of the bracelet was a ruby-colored stone.
When you are ready to transport, John, tap the stone three times, then push the
small lever at the side of the setting. You must be within 50 yards of the hull to achieve
a successful transport.
Randall checked out the setting that encased the stone, and, at the left side of the
setting, was a very small appendage sticking out. He then looked up, and nodded at the
Argonian. "I'm ready," he said.
Good. See you inside. When you materialize, the engine room will be to your right;
the bridge will be to your left. You may go either way.
And with that, the being tapped his stone, pushed his lever, and was simply gone.
John watched, and shook his head. Those guys have transporting down to a science,
he thought. Then, he tapped his stone, pushed his lever, and was gone as if he had
never been there.
The Starfleet lieutenant materialized inside a room; an opening was right in front
of him. Remembering the 'doctor's' instructions, John exited the room, and turned
right. He walked along a small corridor until he came to another opening. This one led
to a good-sized room; he stepped in, and looked around. There was a panel attached to
the wall on his right, and, in the center of the room, was the warp core. It was similar
to the warp core on Challenger, but it wasn't as tall. The inside of the core was purple-
shaded; whereas on Challenger it was blue. John walked around toward the rear of the
warp core, and came upon two clear barrel-shaped containers. The purplish stuff was
in them as well, but Randall also noticed that it wasn't as solid-looking as it had appeared
in the core itself. This could be his problem here, thought the young engineer. It looks
as though it isn't mixing like it's supposed to.
Suddenly he heard the voice inside his head.
Are you in the engine room, lieutenant? Please use your communicator.
John took out his communicator, flipped it open, and said, "I am, Doctor. I am
currently observing your mixer chambers, as I would call them on my ship. This may
be where you are having problems, sir."
I see. Do you think you could do anything to help?
"I am looking for the control panel for these chambers; oh, here it is. Let me get
acquainted with the language here a little, sir, then I will be able to answer your question."
Go to the main panel that you saw when you first walked in, lieutenant. Push the
green button. Underneath that button is a nine button keypad. Cue in this sequence:
top left, center, bottom middle, right center, bottom left. The symbols you see will change
to Federation Standard. That should help you.
"I dare say it would, Doctor," said John dryly, and an amused train of thought came
from the Argonian. "I will check in in a moment. Randall out." He walked back to the panel
that he had first seen, and followed the Argonian's instructions. The symbols changed to
Federation Standard, and John then walked back to the panel he had seen where the
chambers were located. After studying them briefly, he flipped open his communicator.
"Okay, Doctor, from what I can tell, your ratio of matter to antimatter is off a bit. Also,
there appears to be a small leak in one of your pipes that leads from the chamber to the
core. It's housed in the bottom of the chamber, which is why I'm still alive and able to
talk to you right now," reported Randall.
Yes, that would cause a problem, lieutenant. Beside the panel next to the chamber
is a small closet. Tap on the wall next to the panel twice, and a door will open. In that closet
is a radiation suit. Don't worry, it adjusts automatically to a person's physique. In that
closet also, you will find the tools necessary for your task or tasks. I will not start the
engine until you say it is all right for me to. Take your time, lieutenant; I wish you
success.
"Thank you, Doctor, I will be as swift as I can," said John. "Randall out." He turned
and walked to the panel. He tapped on the wall twice, and a door swung open. He looked
inside, selected some tools, then put on the radiation suit, which immediately conformed
to his body. Boy, I could get used to a suit like this, he thought. He walked over to the
chamber housing the damaged pipe, and took off the section of the cover. Immediately,
an alarm sounded, and John felt a couple of pretty solid-sounding thumps. That will be
this ship's version of bulkheads dropping into place to protect what crew would be on
here, he thought. He then took out his tricorder, knelt down, and scanned the inside.
After a few moments, he located the exact location of the damaged assembly. He
took an image with the tricorder, then looked for the matching tool. He saw he would
have to lay full-length on the floor to get to the damaged part, so he got into position,
and began to work. It took a few minutes to loosen the pipe and drag it out. He examined
the pipe, and there was a long crack down the side of the pipe. John nodded in
satisfaction, and got up on his knees. He located the spare piping he had brought with him,
and used a phaser he had found in the closet which had been modified to resemble a
cutting torch.
He burnt off a section that would match what he needed, and lay back down to
install it. He used the phaser again to seal the ends, and got back up on his knees. He
used his tricorder again, and saw that the flow through the piping was nominal now. He
re-covered the section of the base of the chamber, and walked over to the panel. He
inputted some numbers, and the panel showed the flow was much improved. He ordered
the ship's computer to stand down from the automatic yellow alert; the computer requested
he show his authority to do so. John rattled off his Starfleet ID code and his serial number.
The computer, after a second or two, affirmed him as a Starfleet engineer, and the clear
bulkheads went back up, and the lighting returned to normal.
John then entered a ratio for the matter/antimatter conversion chambers. The
computer would not accept it, saying it was too high. Randall thought a moment, then
entered a different ratio. The computer accepted the new ratio, and John ordered the
computer to run a simulation using the new ratio. After a few seconds, the computer
announced that, with the new ratio, the ship's engine would perform at a 96.1%
efficency rating. Pleased, John ordered the computer to make the ratio permanent.
The computer acquiesed, and Randall flipped open his communicator.
"Doctor, please start the engine. You should see, and probably feel, a difference."
Immediately a pulsing roar began, and the liquid inside the chambers began to turn a
deep purplish color. John walked around to the core side, and noticed the color was
darker as well. The ship then gave a barely imperceptible lurch, and Randall knew they
had left the spacedock. He flipped his communicator open again. "How's she doing,
Doctor?" he asked.
A noted improvement, lieutenant. You have done a marvelous job. Thank you.
If you will go to the main panel, as I call it, push the orange-looking button at the top
left corner. We will then have visual status.
John walked over to the panel, and pushed the indicated button. The screen in
the center of the panel lit up, and the lieutenant saw the black-robed figure of the
Argonian.
Hello, lieutenant. If you would not mind, I would like you to stay where you are
for a bit, and keep an eye on everything. I will contact you when I am ready for you to
come to the bridge.
John nodded. "Very well, Doctor, I will see you later then. Randall out." He turned,
and went back over to stand in front of the core. He was secretly very pleased with
himself. That couldn't have turned out better if I had wanted it to, he thought. He walked
back over to the wall, and sat down with his knees pulled up to his chest, watching the
pulsating core as the ship hurtled through space to its destination.
END LOG
TO BE CONTINUED
-
OFFICIAL LOG
LT. (J.G.) JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(Personal Log Stardate 11205.27)
John strode to the transporter room, a little excited and also a
little apprehensive about being chosen for a Starfleet Intelligence
covert mission. He walked up on the dais, and nodded to the transporter
chief, who said, "I have the coordinates from the party on Antares, Lt.
Good luck, sir." John nodded his thanks to the chief, and said, "Energize."
He materialized inside a large building; looking down, he saw he
was on a transporter pad. He stepped off the pad, looking around at his
surroundings. As far as he could tell, this building had once been used as
a warehouse of sorts. There were still racks inside the building, and some
loose paper was strewn here and there across the cement floor. He looked
around for a transporter operator, but, as far as he could tell, he was alone.
He continued looking around until he spotted a door to his left
along the wall. He strode over to it, and pulled on the handle. The door
creaked open, and he stepped outside where a blinding light was suddenly
shone in his eyes. He threw his hands up quickly, but he was already for
all intent purposes blinded. He felt hands grab him, and he was quickly
ushered to some kind of transport vehicle; he was bumped up against it
and then a cloth was thrown over his nose. The cloth smelled sickly-sweet,
and, just before he lost consciousness, recognized it as the smell of
chloroform.
When he came to, he was sitting in a chair at the end of a table. The
room was dimly lit, and there was a figure sitting at the other end of the table.
"Ah, Lieutenant, good to have you back with us," came an authoritative voice.
"No ill effects from your trip, I hope." John, by this time, was a little angry. "I
thought I was needed for a mission, not to be kidnapped!" The figure chuckled.
"I was told you would probably react that way. Lights full!" The room lit up more
brightly, and John stared down the table at a man with a Starfleet uniform on,
and on the collar were six pips. He knew right away the man was a Starfleet
Admiral. "I'm sorry, sir, but given the situation----", he began, but the admiral
stopped him. "Understandable reaction, Mr. Randall," he said. "It's clear you
have all your facilities about you. The way you were brought here was a little
test, and you passed with flying colors.
I am Admiral Jason Baldwin, Lieutenant, and you were selected for this
covert mission because of your rather startling capability to study and decipher
strange technology; strange to you, that is. Captain Creighton-Ward spoke
highly of your abilities while you were aboard the Altair; in her estimation, you
picked up the technology of the cloaking device in a very short span of time.
You were even able to find a couple of ways to incorporate the technology of
the device into the warp engines; thereby making the time the ship was cloaked
last longer. No small feat, Mr. Randall; and when this mission came up, and we
were selecting personnel, the captain suggested you.
"We did some digging into your file and your history, Mr. Randall, and I
myself found something quite amazing. I had no idea you were Marcus Randall's
son." At this, John's gaze sharpened on the admiral. "Did you know my father,
sir?" he asked. Baldwin got up, and walked down the table to take a chair where
he could face the lieutenant. "Yes, I did, John; may I call you John?" he asked,
and Randall nodded. "Your father and I came up through the academy together,
John," the admiral said in a strangely subdued voice. "I went through the command
school, but Marcus wanted to be in Intelligence, and I just couldn't see that. Your
father had something about him, John, that made everyone around him trust and
respect him." John nodded. "That's how he was at home too, sir." Baldwin nodded.
"I'm not surprised," said the admiral. "Your father was an honorable man, and
the way he was----" he suddenly broke off. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I can't say any more
than that." John's eyes narrowed, and Baldwin saw it. "Now, wait, young man, don't
go off on me here," he said. "The last mission your father was on is still highly classified.
I couldn't say anything about it even if I wanted to. I'm sorry, John, I really am." Randall
brought his fist up in the air, but, instead of hammering it on the table, brought it down
gently. "Sir, I need to know about my father. I know he was shot by the Romulans."
At this, Baldwin's eyes grew wide. "How the hell did you find that out, Lieutenant?"
he barked. 'There were leaked pictures on the WorldNet, sir," replied John, and the
admiral's shoulders sagged. "Of course, I should have remembered that," he said
wearily. "We're still looking for the person that did that." "Well, I'm glad they leaked it,
sir," said John defiantly. "I won't apologize for that."
Baldwin gazed at him, and a slow, reluctant smile spread across his features.
"Dammed if you aren't just like him, John," he said. "Marcus could get that way, too.
He'd tell you what he thought, and he didn't care if you liked it or not. Well, anyway,
it's time to get down to business, Lieutenant. You ready?" "As I'll ever be, sir," said
Randall, and Baldwin nodded, smiling. "Good man. Your captain speaks highly of you,
also. Ja'lale said you were a smart young man and a damn fine engineer, and I'm
beginning to see why myself." John just nodded, waiting for the briefing to begin.
In fact, the lieutenant was secretly gratified that his captain had such a high opinion
of him. That alone gave him confidence for this mission.
Baldwin went over to a door, and knocked three times. He came back to the table,
accompanied by an aide, and a being clad all in jet black material from head to foot.
The being sat down on John's left, and the lieutenant felt he was being sized up. Randall
turned and looked directly at the being, but the black hood that covered the being's head
was deep, and John couldn't make out any facial features. He turned back to the table,
where he now saw a holo swim into life. It was the picture of a console with alien writing
on it. "This is the holo taken of a ship console found in the wreckage of a ship on Beta
Octavius IV," said Baldwin. "The ship was recently unearthed by an archelogical expedition.
It has been estimated that this wreckage is over 200 years old. Attempts to decipher the
writing on the console were unsuccessful at first, but, with the aid of a scientist from Taurus
II, we were able to crack the code, so to speak. The writing is Macedonian, Lieutenant."
Baldwin paused for a moment, and John turned his head slowly to look at him. "This
console was on a ship from Earth, sir?" he asked increduously. The admiral nodded. "I
couldn't believe it, either. So, the console turned out to be of a command panel that
regulated the engines. But, none of us could up with the way the panel regulated the engines;
am I making any sense here?" John nodded, stifling a smile. "Yes, sir, you are." "Well,
anyway," Baldwin said, "one of the reasons you were chosen for this project, Lieutenant,
is because I read in your file that you were pretty interested in alien languages as well, and,
to be blunt, a 200-year-old Earth language is alien to me, John." "I can see that, sir, and,
actually, the Macedonian language goes back before the time of Christ," said Randall.
"That's fascinating, Lieutenant, I didn't know that," said Baldwin. "Anyway, we are
going to fly you to Beta Octavius IV, and see if you can decipher any other parts of the ship
or the language of the ship that we find. You will be accompanied by this being here," and
the admiral gestured toward the black-clad figure. "This is an Argonian. The standard
of lighting that we are used to is nearly intolerable for them, so they wear these hooded
black garments whenever they travel away from their world. He is along strictly for
observational purposes; they rely heavily on technology on their world, and they are
always curious when something new appears. They have no vocal cords, so they cannot
speak aloud; they communicate by telepathy." Baldwin nodded to the figure, and John
instantly heard a voice in his head:
Can you understand me? Just nod your head.
John nodded.
Excellent. I will not overload your thoughts. I will try to be as careful as possible.
Again, John nodded. "Would you rather I vocalize my thoughts instead of trying to
send them to your mind, sir?"
Yes, and thank you. I have found humans do not possess much discipline when it
comes to their minds. I mean no offense.
John smiled. "None taken, sir. I look forward to comparing my findings with yours."
As do I, lieutenant. It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is unpronouncable for
your race, so please call me Dr. Jones.
John smiled. "Very well. Nice to meet you as well, Dr. Jones." Baldwin smiled and
nodded at the last bit, and said, "Well, gentlemen, I believe we have a mission to carry out.
Let's get started." The men headed toward the door, and climbed into a groundcar, where
they were whisked away to the Antares spaceport.
END LOG
TO BE CONTINUED
-
OFFICIAL LOG
LIEUTENANT (j.g.) JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(Personal Log Stardate 11204.07)
John awoke in his bed after a much-needed 14 hours of sleep. He got up,
stretched for a few moments, then made his way to the head to grab a long, hot
shower. He got the water going, and stepped inside. The water felt good on his
body, and, after 20 minutes, he stepped out of it, and felt like himself again. He
grabbed his workout clothes, and was about to put them on when his intercom
beeped. What now, he thought, and went to the computer terminal to answer.
"Randall here," he said. "Ah, ensign, you're awake," came the voice of the captain,
and John snapped to attention immediately. "Report to the rec deck immediately,
Ensign Randall. Ja'lale out." "Aye, Captain," said John, and went into his bedroom
to put on his duty uniform. He made his way out of his cabin, and went down the
corridor to the turbolift. "Deck 6," he intoned, and the lift whisked him away.
He arrived at his destination, and made his way down the hall to the doors
of Rec Room 1, which swished open as he approached. He strode in, and stopped
dead in his tracks. There were about 150 crewpeople gathered in the room. The
regular crew were standing on both sides of a podium which had been set up in
the middle of the room. Gathered on the podium were most of the senior officers
and Captain Ja'lale himself, who looked on with a serious demeanor. John
thought, Okay, what's going on here, and about that time, the new XO (first officer)
of the Challenger, Commander Erica Rinax, barked, "Ensign Randall, front and
center!"
John stood at attention briefly, then walked toward the podium, and ascended
it from the left. He walked toward, and then stood in front of, the captain and the first
officer. Ja'lale cleared his throat. "Ensign John Randall, this is somewhat overdue;
but, there have been, er, extenuaning circumstances to prevent this from taking place
sooner. Your service on this vessel has been good to the point of excellent, and has
not gone unnoticed. So, at this time, it pleases me greatly to bestow upon you the new
rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade. Commander?" Rinax stepped forward, and pinned a
pip to the collar of John's uniform, winked at him, and stepped back, her face once
again impassive. "Congratulations, Lieutenant (j.g.) John Randall, and keep up the
excellent standards you have obviously established for yourself, and which tie in
excellently with the ship's as well," intoned the captain. He then looked out at the
assembled crewpersons. "Three cheers for the lieutenant!"
The crew responded, and Ja'lale gave John the Starfleet salute, which the new
lieutenant returned. The captain then said, "Dismissed!" Several of the crew came up
to Randall to congratulate him, and, after several minutes, the new lieutenant left the
rec room, and made his way to the turbolift. "Deck 4," he intoned, and the lift departed.
He left the turbolift, and made his way down the corridor, where he was congratulated
by more passing crewmembers. He strode inside, went up to the ordering wall, gave
and received his order, and started to sit down at a nearby table; but then remembered
his promotion, and made his way to the officers' tables, where he sat down to eat.
A little while later, he disposed of the contents of his tray, and left the mess hall
to return to the turbolift. "Deck 12," he intoned, and the lift took him there. He exited the
lift, and went along the corridor to the doors of engineering, which swooshed open as
he approached. He went in, and thought he heard the captain's voice over the 'comm. He
made his way to the main console where he saw lieutenant Eddie Freeman studying a panel.
"Hello, Lieutenant," he said, and Freeman looked up at him. "Heey!" said the chief, raising
a hand. "I heard about the promotion, man; congratulations!" John smiled, and said,
"Thank you. Now, I'll have to work even harder." He laughed briefly, then said, "But,
don't worry; I guess I'll get used to it."
Eddie said, "Eh, it's not so bad. We're still just junior grades. Speaking of which,
I technically don't outrank you any more." John nodded, and said, "I was just thinking
about that. How about you just calling me John? And, wasn't that the captain's voice I
heard as I came in?" "Works for me," said the chief. "And you can just call me Eddie. And,
as for the intercom, I didn't hear it. What'd he say?" John smiled briefly again. "Eddie. I think
he was asking about the engines and the ship systems." The acting chief engineer looked
over the panel briefly, then nodded. "Looks like everything's green across the board." He
then thumbed the 'comm. "Engineering to bridge. Captain, resend your last transmission,
please; sorry I missed it. If you were asking about the systems, everything's ready to go
shipwide."
John quickly sat down at a panel, and whispered, "I'll run checks while you talk to the
captain." Freeman nodded, then the captain's voice sounded. "Bridge to engineering. Thank
you, Mr. Freeman; that's what I was calling down about. I wanted to see how things were
going down there in preparations against the incoming fleet. I want our systems running at
top specs. Ja'lale out." John quickly held a thumbs-up gesture to Eddie, and the chief nodded.
"We're ready for it, sir, Freeman out," said the chief. John called up the diagnostic program
results, and nodded in satisfaction. Eddie turned off the 'comm, and turned to face Randall.
"I think I might need to get my ears checked; that last away mission might have done a number
on 'em."
John looked up at him, and nodded thoughtfully. "That might not be a bad idea; if you
want to go, I'll hold things together 'til you get back." The chief considered a second, then
said," Nah. I'll wait a bit, see if I keep missing things. Don't want to bother the new doctor just
yet." He then sat down on the other side of the console. John smiled, and said, "Ok, no
problem. From what I can see, we're green across the board. I might take Steve Davis and a
couple of guys to see about the nacelle alignment, if it's okay with you. The diagnostic showed
the left nacelle is apparently .05 mm out of alignment."
Freeman started to respond, then the 'comm beeped. "Attention: senior officers are to
meet in Observation Lounge 1 in 20 minutes for a briefing with Starfleet HQ staff. Starbase
Commander out." Eddie made a wry face, and said, "Looks like we just got other plans." John
frowned, and said, "Then again, I could just brief him, and let him do it." Freeman snorted in
amusement, and John looked around, spotting Steve Davis about to walk by. "Steve!" he
shouted, and Davis looked around until he spotted Randall, waved, and started making his way
over. Eddie stood up, and said, "Sounds good. I'll meet you over there, yeah?" John nodded,
and said, "I'll be along shortly." Davis arrived, and John showed him the diagnostic of the nacelle
adjustment as Freeman exited engineering.
Randall and Davis finished going over the procedures of the EVA, then John clapped
Steve on the shoulder, and strode out of engineering, heading for the turbolift. "Deck 10," he said
as he walked into the lift, which promptly set on its journey. The lift, however, made its way to
deck seven, and the door swished open to reveal the figure of the new chief medical officer of
the Challenger; Dr. Gretchen Hanson. She was startled at first, but recovered nicely. "Going
down?" she asked as she stepped inside. "Hey, Doctor," said John, noting the pips on her collar
as well as the blue uniform of the medical staffers. "On the way to the transporter room; need a
lift?" "Transporters?" said Gretchen, looking puzzled. "I was just going to walk over. But, I guess
the transporters would be faster. Wouldn't want to get lost for my first 'senior' meeting."
The door of the lift closed, and John said, "Deck 7. There's some long corridors over there,
Doctor; it'll be easier just beaming straight to the observation lounge." The doctor smiled at him,
and said, "I'll follow your lead, Lieutenant." Randall returned the smile, and said, "And, let me be
the first to 'officially' welcome you to the USS Challenger." "I love official welcomes," laughed
the doctor. "They're so....official!" John laughed as they arrived at their destination. "Yes, aren't
they? This way, doctor." He escorted Gretchen to the transporter room, led her to, and helped
her up onto the dais, then looked at her. "You ready?" "All set," she replied, and John nodded
at the transporter chief. "Energize," he said, and they shimmered out of existence.
They rematerialized inside the huge observation room, and John looked around, getting
his bearings, then saw Freeman and Major Kimiko Johnson making their way to a long table that
bore the nameplate Challenger crew. "They're over there, I believe, doctor," he said, and he and
Gretchen began making their way over. The doctor was staring a little wide-eyed at the crowd as
she followed along behind Randall. "Do you think we have name tags?" she said jokingly. John
turned, and said, "Good Lord, I hope not." He saw Freeman waving at them, waved back, and
made his way to the table. They found a seat with the other Challenger crew, and, about that time,
several Starfleet admirals and one Romulan made their way to the tables which had been placed
at the head of the room. An admiral walked up to the microphone stand, and said, "Ladies,
gentlemen, and gentlebeings, please take your seats so this meeting may begin."
John began to feel a little claustrophobic with such a crowd of people; but then that
feeling vanished as he saw the Romulan for the first time. Freeman quickly noticed that Randall's
body had involuntarily stiffened; he quickly leaned over and whispered, "The Romulan is on our
side, believe me. I helped see to it myself." John nodded, and relaxed slightly. "At least, I think
he is," said the chief, and Randall said, "I know, but you know how I feel about them." Freeman
nodded, and settled back in his chair. He accepted some cups of coffee from Kimiko, and
passed them along to John and Gretchen. The doctor had noticed his reaction, but wasn't quite
sure yet what had caused it. She quickly pulled a foil-covered lozenge from her pocket, and
prepared to offer it to him. The admiral said, "With the help of the crews from Challenger and
our new experimental cloaking vessel Altair, as well as from our Intel representative Commander
Rinax, we managed to secure a key part in stopping the Romulan attack fleet. He has agreed to
assist us in exchange for political asylum on Earth."
John's mouth dropped open in disbelief at the news, and his body tensed tight again.
He then got a nudge from Gretchen. "Here, take this. It'll help," she whispered, and Randall
accepted it gratefully, opening the lozenge, and putting it in his mouth. "Thank you, doctor,"
he whispered, and she smiled slightly in return. The admiral then invited the Romulan to speak,
and John tensed up again. The doctor nudged him. "Roll it around on your tongue. It will help
relax you." The new lieutenant nodded, and followed her orders. The briefing, much to John's
relief, ended soon after, and he was ready to go back to Challenger. The doctor leaned over,
and asked him, "Did that help?" John nodded. "You don't know how much, Doctor." The crew
of Challenger walked toward the front of the lounge, and they were beamed back to the ship.
END LOG
-
OFFICIAL LOG
ENSIGN JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(Personal Log Stardate 13282.4)
John was watching his panel in the engineering room of the Altair, having just
repaired a faulty junction box about an hour ago. He did not notice Lieutenant Eddie
Freeman come and take a seat a couple of panels down from him. A few seconds later,
Freeman observed, "This is an impressive piece of work." John did not react immediately,
but a few moments later, he thought he had heard someone say something. He looked
up from his panel, looked around, and saw his chief watching a panel. John said, "Did
you say something, sir?"
Freeman replied, "Eh, not much. Just saying this is an impressive piece of hardware.
I keep thinking it should be drawing more power than it is." John nodded. "Whoever
installed this did a hell of a job, no doubt about it." He then glanced over to Freeman.
"Think we could ever install something like aboard Challenger, sir?" Eddie pondered
a few seconds, then said, "Maybe. It'd take some serious refitting though; it'd be hard to
find room, if nothing else. And we'd need more power, if we ever wanted to use it outside
of extreme emergenices. But it could be done." John chuckled. "Could help us get out of
some sticky situations, huh?" Freeman smiled slightly. "True. I've been aboard Challenger
in a few cases when it would have been helpful."
John nodded, and turned his attention back to his panel, making a few adjustments.
His panel soon showed green across across the board, and he stood up, stretching kinks
from his shoulders and arms. Then Freeman said, "I don't think this'll be put in every ship,
though. Call it a hunch. Maybe a few recon vessels, though." John said, "Patrol ships would
benefit from it, too; wouldn't you think?" "Oh, yeah," said Eddie. "I could see how they'd
benefit. Come right up to the Neutral Zone on patrol with the Romulans none the wiser. "
John grinned at him. "Or the Klingons, too, for that matter." Freeman smiled. "Turnabout
is fair play, right? They both seem to love these things. Bet they'll change their minds once
they're on the wrong side of 'em." John laughed. "The Klingons would howl about it, that's
for sure."
The engine whine suddenly decreased, and John said, "Well, I think we're back in good
guy territory, chief." "Yeah, that's right," said a voice behind him, and Randall turned to look
at the face of the Altair's chief engineer, Lieutenant Parker. "Job done, mate." Freeman said,
"Yup, looks like it. We seem to have dropped the cloak." Parker said to John, "You lot did all
right, I'd say." "Thank you, sir," said the ensign. "Your guys did good, too. This is a good
little ship you've got here." "Yeah, thanks," said Parker. "I'm glad the cloaking device managed
to hold out this long." "You should have a lot of data to go on now, sir," replied John. "It's a
first-rate device, performing like that. Lieutenant, it's been a pleasure serving with you, and thank
you for the opportunity to learn some new things." "Same goes for me, Lieutenant," chimed in
Freeman. "It's been a wild trip, but you and your crew came through."
Parker said thanks and shook both their hands. John then excused himself, and went
to his locker, gathering his things for the beamover back to Challenger. He reflected how
good it would be to sleep in his own bed again. He got his things together, and made his way
to the transporter room of the Altair. He walked in, walked up to and stepped up on the dais,
preparing for the dematerialization. He was very tired, and intended to beam aboard and go
straight to his cabin for some much-needed sleep. The ship eased into its docking port, and
the Altair transporter chief, after obtaining the coords of and the verification that Challenger
was indeed docked at Starbase 33, nodded to John, who smiled briefly. "Energize," said
the ensign, and, seconds later, shimmered into existence inside the familiar transporter room
1 of the Challenger. He sighed and exhaled deeply, knowing he was home.
"Welcome home, Ensign," said the transporter chief, and John nodded. "Good to be
home, chief," he replied, stepping down from the dais, exiting the room, and walking to the
turbolift. "Deck 8," he snapped as he stepped inside, and the lift whisked him away. He a
arrived at his destination, exited the lift, and walked down the corridor to his cabin, nodding
his thanks at a couple of crew members welcoming him back. He walked into his cabin, and
deposited his duffel bag on his couch. He then walked into his bedroom, and turned on his
computer terminal. What he saw on the screen caused him to do a double-take, and he sat
down in front of the terminal, which was displaying the information that he had an urgent
message from his mother.
The ensign called up the message, then sat frozen in disbelief at the words on the screen.
They read, 'Hello, son. I hope this message finds you well in spirit and in health. There's no easy
way to tell you this, so here goes; your grandmother has been taken to McIverton General.
She's not doing well, son; it may only be a matter of time. I will contact you again when there
is more. Take care of yourself, and remember I love you very much. Be careful, my son. Love,
Mom.'
John turned the terminal off, and sat staring at the screen for a few moments, then got
up, and walked out to the living area of the cabin. He paused in front of one of the viewports,
and stood staring out into space as memories of his grandmother raced through his head.
A little while later, the door chime buzzed. He automatically responded, "Come," and the
doors swooshed open, revealing the figure of Jeff Michaels, who walked over to his friend.
"Hey, John, welcome back," said Michaels. John turned, smiled weakly at him, and said softly,
"Hello, Jeff." Michaels knew instantly something was wrong. "What's up, buddy? What's
happened?" asked the ensign.
John told Jeff about his mother's message; when he finished, Michaels put his hand on
his friend's shoulder. "I don't know what to say, pal. I hope she pulls out of it; that just sounds
lame, though." Randall smiled at him. "The thought is appreciated, though, Jeff." "You feel
like talking about it now, my friend?" asked Michaels. "Or would you rather be alone?" John
considered a moment, then said." I guess I'd rather be alone right now, Jeff. I'm not trying to
run you off or anything." Micheals smiled, and gave a little wave of his hand. "It's no problem,
pal. If you need anything, I'll be around." He started walking towards the door, and John said,
"Thanks, Jeff, and I will." Michaels nodded, and the doors swooshed as he left the cabin. John
turned his attention back to the viewport, and wondered what the hell he was going to do if
his grandmother died.
He had been very close to his grandmother until the day he left for the Academy. She
had kissed him on the cheek, given him a big hug, and told him not to worry about the family;
they would be all right. That thought brought involuntary tears to his eyes, and he stood in
the middle of his cabin with his head bowed, emotion overtaking him. After a few moments,
he composed himself, and suddenly felt drained. He tottered into his bedroom, took off his
uniform, put his pajamas on, and tumbled into bed, but sleep eluded him for a bit as memories
of his grandmother continued to be foremost in his mind.
After a time, he slept.
END LOG
-
Um, I guess I got left off this one, sir; you should have 1 AENG spot open. But, it's okay.
John Randall
-
OFFICIAL LOG
ENSIGN JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(continued from Feb. 4 log)
Personal Log, Stardate 13172.3
John watched his panel closely in the Altair's engineering room; the Altair being the ship he had transferred
to for this covert mission into Romulan space. His gut tightened every time he thought about it. Here he was,
a definite hater of just about anything Romulan, and he was actually in Romulan space on a top secret mission.
How ironic was that? He told himself not to think about it; just do the mission, and get back home to Challenger.
He and Eddie Freeman, the acting engineering chief of the Challenger, had beamed over to the Altair just a short time ago, and the ship immediately began its mission. Freeman was actually going to get minor plastic surgery to impersonate a Romulan Tai'Shiar operative, green skin and all. John shuddered even more with revulsion at the thought of it. Freeman had told the captain of the Altair, Captain Creighton-Ward, that Randall didn't want any part of the operation; Freeman wanted John to stay onboard Altair to study the engines and the cloaking device aboard the ship. Ward thought it was a good idea, and thought also, since Randall was the number two officer in engineeringaboard Challenger, and the Altair engineering crew was pretty much cadets just graduated from Starfleet Academy, that John could help out Lieutenant Parker, the Altair's chief engineer, with breaking in the new junior officers performing real-time engineering tasks.
The ship made its foray into Romulan space undetected; performed its mission in acquiring the Romulan informant, and the ship then set out for Federation space. John kept noticing a residual power bleed-off in a
junction box in a nearby corridor, and thought eventually it might affect the cloaking device performance; and
they certainly didn't need that at this stage. He kept trying to trace the problem, and didn't notice Lieutenant
Freeman sit down at a panel next to him. "Problems?" asked the chief engineer. John didn't hear him at first, but then noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, and glanced over at him. "What? Oh, hello, sir, welcome back. The mission must have went well; you're still alive." Freeman smiled wryly. "Well, we got the guy we were supposed to get." John then looked fully at him, not liking the tone of the chief's voice. "Not exactly a ringing endorsement there, sir," he observed.
"No, it isn't," agreed Freeman. "I can't tell you too much, but what I can tell you is; Starfleet didn't exactly give us all the information they had." John snorted in half-disgust. "When have they ever? Especially when it comes to dealing with those green-blooded bas--, er, beings." Freeman looked at him in amusement over the correction. John half-smiled, and continued, "Glad to see you're still in one piece, sir." Freeman started to make a comment, thought better of it, apparently, and shrugged. "Yeah, I'm still in one piece. It was close, though. Anyway, you looked irritated. Having any problems?" John gestured at his panel, and said, "There's a residual power bleed-off in junction ZX-147, and for the life of me, I can't figure it out."
Freeman thought a second, then said, "You already check all the components? Sometimes if some of the connections are degraded, it can bleed some energy. I've seen it happen where they had something drawing power from places it shouldn't be, and it shows up as a bleed off." Randall shook his head. "I haven't checked all the junctions, but Lieutenant Parker says they should all be the latest versions you can get." Freeman cocked his head. "I think I'd check them myself if I were you." John looked at him a second, and nodded. "Point taken, sir. I'll see if I can track down the location of the box, and take a look myself." Freeman nodded. "I'll see what Parker is up to. See you later." "Aye, sir," said the ensign, and went back to his panel to try to ascertain the location of the malfunctioning junction box.
After a few moments, John located the junction box in a corridor wall not far from engineering. He called over Parker's number two officer, showed him the problem, and told the officer he, Randall, was going to fix it.
The officer smiled and nodded, and John went to his locker, retrieving his toolkit. He buckled it around his waist, and went to the cargo bay to get a replacement part. He then walked to the corridor wall where the junction box was located. He removed the panel concealing the box, and knelt down to take a look. The problem was obvious; a slight but noticable crack ran down the entire length of the casing of the box. John set to work; isolating the box, removing it, and installing the replacement. About a half hour later, he was finished. He replaced the corridor wall panel, and scanned with his tricorder. The readings came back green, and he stood up, replacing the tricorder on his belt.
He walked back to his locker and put his toolkit inside. He then went back to engineering, where the Altair officer greeted him with relief. John smiled at him and nodded, then went to his station. He called up the program, and nodded in satisfaction as the panel read green across the board. He then thumbed the intercom.
"Randall to Lieutenant Parker." "Parker 'ere, go ahead, lad," came the unmistakable Irish brogue of the chief engineer. "Sir, I noticed we had a residual power bleed off in one of the junction boxes. I took the liberty of replacing the box because I didn't want anything to happen to the cloaking device at this stage," said the ensign. "Hope you didn't mind me reporting until now." "Oh, quite all right, old chap," said Parker. "You probably saved me a few hours of work. Nice job." John smiled to himself, and replied, "Thank you, sir. Will continue to monitor here. Randall out."
The crew worked along for a little while, then John received a message on his panel. He read it, then got out of his chair, looked around, and spotted his destination. He walked over to a very nervous cadet who was having trouble routing power to a junction. John calmed her down, then talked her through it. "No, no, it's no big deal. Just reroute your power through here, grab this stream, and route it back to the original junction through this bypass here, ok?" The cadet nodded, and, a few moments later, sighed heavily in relief, smiling at him. John said, "You're good to go now. Just keep an eye on it for a few minutes to make sure it doesn't backtrack on you, which I don't think will happen." He patted her on the shoulder, got up, and went back to his station. A few minutes later, the captain's voice came over the intercom. "Captain Creighton-Ward to Engineering. Come in, please."
John waited for a few moments, waiting for Chief Parker to acknowledge the hail, but nothing happened. The captain's voice came back again. "Mr. Randall, we'll need to increase our speed to warp 9 to make it back to Federation space quicker. We'll need all the time we can get to prepare for our Romulan friends." John's eyes widened at that remark. "Please keep an eye on our warp engines and cloaking device to make sure they don't overload in transit." John thumbed the intercom. "Aye, Captain, I will. I will also inform the Lieutenant. Randall out." The engine whine increased almost immediately, and John turned to see Parker wiping his hands with a towel. "What a bloody time to take a leak," he drawled, and the crew all smiled at him. Randall turned back to his panel, fighting to keep the grin off his face.
-
OFFICIAL LOG
ENSIGN JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(Personal log Stardate 12212.4)
John woke up in his quarters after returning from Starbase 103. He glanced at his
chronometer, and was pleasantly surprised to discover he had slept about 8 hours. He
went to the head, and then put on his sweats to go to the ship's gym for a workout. He
exited his quarters, and walked to the turbolift. "Deck 6," he said, and the lift whisked
him away. He arrived at the rec deck, as everyone called it, and went in, heading straight
for the weight machine. A grueling 45 minutes later, he was breathing hard and sweaty,
but pleased with his efforts and results. He exited the rec room, and headed for the lift.
"Deck 8," he intoned, and the lift took him there.
He entered his quarters, stripped off his clothing, and took a semi-hot shower.
He then put on his duty uniform, and decided to get some breakfast. He went out into
the corridor, and headed for the lift. "Deck 4," he said upon entering, and the lift took
him to his destination. He exited the lift, and walked down the hall to the galley. He went
up to the ordering wall, gave and received his order, and sat down to eat. He finished
his meal, disposed of his tray, and went out into the corridor, walking to the turbolift.
"Deck 12," he said, and the lift took him to Engineering.
John went along the corridor to the engineering doors, which swooshed open at
his approach. He went in, nodding at several of the crew, and went to his station. He
glanced over to the main console, and saw acting chief Eddie Freeman monitoring
something on his screen. John turned to his own panel, and began his duty day.
A few minutes later, the captain's voice came over the intercom. "Attention all senior
officers, this is the captain. You are ordered to report to conference room 22-B aboard
Starbase 33 immediately. Ja'lale out." John immediately looked over to Freeman. "Want
me to mind the store while you're gone, sir?", he asked. Freeman glanced at him, then
gave Randall his full attention. "Um, think you better come too, ensign," the chief engineer
said. John stared at him a second, then said, "Are you sure, sir? I'm not a senior officer."
"Better safe than sorry, Randall," Freeman said. "Besides, if they don't let you in, you'll
have a couple of hours of free shore leave."
John cocked his head a second, then smiled and said, "Well, when you put it like
that, sir," and his voice trailed off. Freeman looked around, spotted Steve Davis, nodded
to him, and said, "Ensign Davis, you have command." "Aye, sir," Davis said, and Freeman
nodded to Randall; the men left Engineering, heading to the turbolift. "Deck 10," said
Eddie, and the lift took them to the transporter deck. The men exited the lift, and went to
transporter room 1, where they walked straight to the dais, stepping up onto it. "Beam
us to the transporter room of Starbase 33, chief," said Freeman. The officer nodded, and,
a few seconds, nodded again to Freeman. "Energize," barked the chief engineer, and the
two men shimmered out.
They materialized inside an enormous transporter room (compared to the ship), and
they nodded at the officer in charge. "Conference room 22-B?", asked Freeman. "3 decks
up, lift down the hall to your right, sir," replied the officer. "Thank you," said Eddie, and he
and John exited the room, heading for the turbolift. They entered, and Freeman said,
"Conference room 22-B." The doors closed, and the lift took them away. The men arrived at
their destination, and they stepped out into the corridor. To their left came the subdued
murmur of voices, and they began walking that way. They came to a cavernous room where
several Starfleet personnel of varying rank were slowly milling about, or gathered in small
groups conversing. John looked around for a few moments, then a man entered from a
door in the port side wall; clearly a senior officer just by the way he carried himself. He walked
to the head of the huge round table in the center of the room, and stood in front of a small
podium with the seal of the United Federation of Planets on the front of it.
The man spoke into the microphone on the podium: "Please take your seats. We're
about to begin." The crowd assembled around the table, sitting down in the chairs provided.
John and Eddie sat down with the Challenger crew, and Randall whispered to Freeman as
they took their seats. "Something big's going on, sir." Freeman began to reply, but checked
himself as the man at the podium began speaking. "Thank you all for coming. My name is
Admiral Norman Schultz of Starfleet Alpha Quadrant Command. What you are about to see
and hear is highly classified, and must not leave this room." He pushed a button on his
podium, and the lights went out. He pushed another button, and a 3D image appeared
in the center of the table; clearly a starmap. A section of the map began to glow, and the
admiral said, "This is the Romulan Star Empire, as you well know." A blip appeared in the
image, and the admiral said, "This is Lunar Colony R-334." At the mention of the Romulans,
John snapped to attention, and his eyes became riveted on the starmap. Schultz continued,
"It is located a few hours inside of Romulan space. I've brought you all here to inform you
that a recovery mission is to take place on this colony. A high profile Romulan has knowledge
of an impending attack on Federation bases or colonies next to the Neutral Zone.
"He has agreed to divulge all information he has in regards to the attack, as well as
information about the Romulan Command, in exchange for asylum here on Earth." At this,
John unconsciously clenched his fists hard, not believing a word of it. The admiral continued,
"We are to initate a recovery mission and retrieve this individual, bringing him to Federation
space." The various crewmembers all looked at one another, then turned their attention back
to the admiral. "How are we going to do that, you might ask?" He glanced to the right side of
the table where a young blonde captain sat ostensibly with her crew, all adorned in black
uniforms with the Starfleet logo emblazoned on them. "A few years ago, not long after the
signing of the Khitomer Accords, Starfleet commissioned a project to test out cloaking
capabilities on Federation vessels. The ASDB has constructed an experimental starship that
served as a platform for testing out a cloaking device. The USS Altair, NX-3000, is that ship,
and has just finished conducting space trials of the cloaking device. It is the first of hopefully
many ships that will be equipped with a cloaking device."
Schultz continued, "It is this ship that we will use to conduct the recovery mission;
however, as this is an experimental ship, Altair does not have the adequate personnel required
to successfully carry out a recovery mission. That's why we've asked the crew of the Challenger
to attend this meeting. A number of its senior crew, along with security personnel and Marines,
are to transfer to the Altair to assist in the recovery mission." The crew of the Challenger all
looked at one another, and John was not believing his ears. The admiral said, "Captain
Ja'lale and the Challenger will stay behind to plan out a defense in response to the impending
attack. We've summoned more ships in the area to this station to help with the defense. But,
we'll need to retrieve the Romulan informant to help with the details.
"To help with the recovery mission, our operatives managed to secure a Romulan
medium range shuttle to transport down to the colony. Before you arrive there, the recovery
officers will disguise themselves as Romulan Tal'Shier operatives and retrieve the informant."
At this, John's fists clenched so hard he drew blood from one palm, and his eyes turned
ice-blue with anger. Freeman noticed the movement, and began watching the ensign from
the corner of his eye; Eddie knew how John felt about Romulans, and knew the young ensign
was having a hard time with this. Schultz continued, "Once you have secured the Romulan,
you will give him a secret code word so he knows you are Federation operatives. You will
then head back to the shuttle, and return to Federation space on the Altair. Are there any
questions?"
Freeman quickly glanced to Randall, who settled back in his seat, and closed his eyes;
Eddie could see him doing deep-breathing exercises, and knew the ensign was angry. The
chief engineer also secretly marveled at Randall's ability to keep his anger under control.
He then turned back toward the table as the blonde captain cleared her throat slightly.
"I see; quite risky, this," she said in an unmistakable British accent. "Altair will be under cloak
for many days, then. Our space trials went well, but we've never attempted to keep the ship
under cloak for so long." The admiral smiled at her, and said, "I'm sure Altair can hold her
cloak that long. All the same, I would like some of Challenger's engineers to transfer over
and help with keeping the device operational as Altair is short-handed in engineering."
Schultz then said, "If there aren't any more questions, I'll let you get on to it. Challenger
personnel are to beam over to Altair ASAP. Good luck in your mission, and may fortune favor
the brave. I'd like the Altair to leave within the hour; time is of the essence. I remind you
again, this briefing and mission are classified. Dismissed!" John immediately got up out of
his chair, and went to lean against a nearby wall, still fighting his anger. Freeman watched
him go for a second, then turned to talk to the captain of the Altair. After a few moments,
John stood straight, almost at attention, and watched Freeman. The chief engineer finished
his conversation with the blonde captain, and turned to him, saying, "Let's get going."
John said, "Aye, sir," and followed Eddie out of the room.
Once they were in the corridor, Freeman stopped and turned to him. "Randall, you okay?"
John looked at him a moment, then sighed and said, "No, sir, I am not." Freeman nodded, and
said, "I can write an excuse for you if you need to sit this one out." John looked at him, thought
for a second, then slowly nodded. "That might not be a bad idea, sir." Freeman regarded him a
second, then nodded. "Okay, we'll keep you on board the Altair. You can help with the
cloaking device. Sound good?" The young ensign smiled in genuine relief, and nodded. "Thank
you, sir." Freeman half-smiled, clapped him lightly on the shoulder, and said, "All right. Let's
go get our gear." "Aye, sir," John replied, and the two men headed for the base transporter
room.
END LOG
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OFFICIAL LOG
ENSIGN JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(Personal Log, Stardate 10812.3)
The Challenger had been requested to investigate the disapperance
of a freighter near a large nebula not too far from Starbase 103. When the
ship arrived at the last known coordinates, after a little searching, a planet
was found, and scans detected a Starfleet vessel on the surface.
The ship went into orbit around the planet, and an Away Team was sent
down to the surface to check for survivors. John was left in charge of
engineering while Freeman went down with the team. Randall and Jeff
Michaels soon discovered that faint radiation from the nearby nebula, along
with some dense vegetation on the planet's surface, began causing problems
with communications, and the two engineers began working to enhance the
ship's sensors for receiving transmissions from the Away Team.
After a couple of mostly garbled attempts, the men finally managed to
calibrate the sensors correctly, and communications were good for the rest
of the mission. A couple of hours later, the Away Team announced it had
located all the survivors, and were ready to beam aboard with the help of the
pattern enhancers taken along by Freeman. All personnel were beamed up
from the planet, and Challenger immediately broke orbit and headed for
Starbase 103.
The engine whine increased down in engineering, and John looked
over at Michaels. "Well, looks like they found the survivors, and we're
heading back. I guess we resume our normal duties, and wait for the chief."
Michaels nodded, and both men went to their respective stations, John
stopping in the chief engineer's office for a second to check the computer;
finding nothing, went to his normal duty station. Though technically still
in charge until Freeman returned, he preferred his station over the chief
engineer's post; John didn't feel like he was any better than anybody else,
and some of the crew had commented on that to him, saying they appreciated
him not letting command over engineering go to his head.
John was a little curious about the new intermix program he and Steve
Davis had put in place a few days ago, and wanted to see, now that the ship
was in warp, how the matter/antimatter convertor chambers were doing under
the new program. He called the data up on his panel, and was pleasantly
surprised that the ship's engines were running at a 98.7% efficiency rate. He
breathed a silent 'thank you', and then closed the program and went about
his normal duties, as well as overseeing his crewmates.
His intercom beeped, and he punched the button. "Randall here."
"Randall," came the voice of acting chief of engineering Eddie Freeman.
"This is Freeman. I'm back from the surface. I'll be down in ME in 20 minutes,
tops." "No worries, sir," John answered. "Take your time, we're all good
here, and welcome back." "Thanks," said Freeman. "It was pretty muggy
down there; need to get cleaned up a little. Freeman out." "Acknowledged,
sir," replied John. "Randall out."
A few hours later, Challenger arrived at Starbase 103. The ship docked,
and Captain Ja'lale announced the crew would be on leave while he went to
the Command Center to get the orders for the ship's next mission. John
finished up his duties, logged his daily report in, then went over to the main
console where Freeman was also logging in reports. "Sir, I'm going aboard
the base, heard they have a great deli here," he said. "Sounds good,"
replied the chief engineer. "Take your time, and relax; we should have a few
hours, at least."
"Thank you, sir," said John. "You should take some time, too. See you
later." Freeman half-smiled and nodded. John turned and headed for the
engineering doors; on the way, he was met by Jeff Michaels. "Hey, John, you
going aboard the base?", asked the ensign. "That was my plan, yes," smiled
Randall. "Okay, come on; I'm meeting Steve and Susan there. You'll make us
a party of four, huh?", asked Michaels. The men went through the doors, and
went down the hall to the turbolift. "Susan?", asked John. "Ah, yes, Ensign
Maloney from Starbase 33. Ok, sounds good; we ARE changing into civvies,
right?" Michaels laughed as the lift arrived. "Of course. Just meet us at the
deli, all right?" "Will do," said John, as the men stepped into the lift. "Deck
8," snapped the young ensign, and the lift whisked them away.
The men arrived at their destination, and they exited; Randall went
down the corridor to the left to his cabin. He entered, took his duty uniform
off, went to the head and took a sonic shower. He changed into civilian
clothes, and exited his room, heading for the turbolift. "Deck 6," he said
as he stepped inside, and the lift took him away. He arrived at the deck, exited
the lift, and went to the airlock to access the base turbolifts. He checked the
station guide quickly to see what deck he needed as the base turbolift
arrived. "Deck 4," he told the base computer, and was taken away.
He stepped out of the lift as it arrived, and was met by a Starfleet
security officer. He showed his Starfleet ID to the officer, who handed it back
to him, and nodded. John walked down the long hall, taking his time, and was
soon sure of his destination; the sound of many voices in conversation told
him he was on the right deck. He arrived at the deli, and walked in. He went
to the counter, gave and received his order, took his tray and looked around,
spotting two familiar faces: Michaels and Steve Davis. I should have known
they'd beat me here, he thought. He shook his head as Michaels waved at him,
and made his way to their table.
"Hey, John, glad you could make it," said Michaels as John sat down.
"Hi, guys," he said. "What happened to the lady ensign?" "She wasn't feeling
too well, so she decided to stay aboard the ship, and rest in her cabin," said
Michaels. " "Hm, I'm sorry to hear that," mused Randall. "She seems to be a
very nice woman." Steve Davis's eyes widened slightly, then he winked at
Michaels. "So, you think so, huh?", he said, and John raised his head, his eyes
narrowed. "Now, hold on a second," he began, but Davis, laughing, cut him off.
"Just kidding, John, just kidding," he said. Randall looked at him for a few
seconds, then turned to look at Michaels, who was trying very hard to keep a
straight face. John slowly smiled, and said, "Ok, I guess I had that coming. Yes,
I have noticed her; you guys happy now?"
Both men grinned, and they then ate their meals. They finished, disposed
of their trays, and John said, "Ok, what now, guys?" Just as he finished speaking,
their communicators beeped, and they saw on the text window that all Challenger
personnel were to report to the ship for takeoff. They looked at each other, sighed,
and made their way to the station turbolifts.
END LOG
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OFFICIAL LOG
ENSIGN JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(continued from Log 12)
John sat at his computer terminal onboard Challenger; he was
really looking forward to talking to his mother. He had really been too
busy over the past couple of weeks to think about his family; now he
realized it had been almost 3 months since he started duty aboard
ship, and he wondered where the time had went. Now, he realized how
much he missed his family, and sat waiting for the communication from
Centaurus to come through.
The terminal beeped, and, a few seconds later, his mother's face
swam into view. John, surprisingly, felt his eyes sting a little; he hadn't
realized how much he had missed his mother. Her eyes widened, and a
hand went up to cover her mouth; John realized his mother had just seen
him on the monitor, and he smiled tenatively. "Johnny?", came a loud
whisper through the speakers, and Randall smiled a little more. "Is it
really you, sweetie?", asked Denise Randall. "Hi, Mom," he said, and
his mother's eyes got even brighter. "It's really me, and it's so good to
hear your voice."
"Yours, too, my angel," said his mother. "Where are you, honey?
At a starbase?" John nodded. "We're at Starbase 32, currently on leave
in-between missions." Denise nodded. "How are you holding up, son?
Are you taking care of yourself?" "Yes, Mom, I'm fine," said John, trying
to reassure his mother. "The ship has a gym, and everything you need
to stay in shape. Plus, I'm putting in the hours in engineering; I'm pacing
myself."
Denise nodded her approval. "All right then. John, I have some sad
news for you, dear. Your uncle Jason passed away last week." John closed
his eyes briefly, and lowered his head, then looked back up. "The Rigellian
flu finally got him, huh?" "Yes, he was in bad shape before that, as you well
know, son, " replied his mother, and he nodded. "When was the funeral,
Mom?", he asked. "Three days ago Centaurus time, " said Denise. "I'm not
sure about the starship conversion rate on that."
"About the same," replied John. "Did uncle Cole show up?" His mother
nodded. "Yes, he actually did. I think they patched things up between them,
son, so you don't have to worry about that any more." John nodded. "That's
good to hear, Mom; I'm very pleased. How are you doing? Are you letting the
doctor treat you for your arthritis? And osteoporosis?" His mother grimaced.
"I'm doing fairly well, son. Good days and bad days. And, yes, I'm taking my
medicine. Rick is seeing to that."
John nodded. "Good. I'm really glad to hear that, Mom. That takes a load
off my mind. I worry about you, you know." "Yes, and you worry too much,
darling, " chastised his mother. "It's going to make you old before your time.
We're all doing all right here. You concentrate on your tour of duty; you worked
too hard to get there." "All right, Mom, I will, " said John. "I have just one more
question. Have you heard anything from Starfleet about Dad?" His mother
closed her eyes resignedly. "John, son, I wish you would let that go," she begged.
"I can't do that, Mom, and you know it, " he replied.
An announcement then came over the 'comm that Challenger was preparing
to leave, and John said, "I have to go, Mom; we're being ordered into duty. I'll call
again as soon as I can. I love you." Denise's eyes filled as she said, "All right, my
son. I love you, too. Be safe, and be careful. I can't wait to hear from you again.
All my love, my darling." "Me, too, Mom," said the ensign, and his mother's face
disappeared from the monitor. He dropped his head for a few seconds, then
called up the duty roster. He looked at it for a few seconds, didn't see his name,
and walked into the bedroom to get some much-needed sleep.
He awoke about 6 hours later, and went to take a shower; in the end, he
took the sonic and the water both, and felt much more like himself. He put on
his duty uniform, and left his cabin. He considered eating breakfast (for him
anyway), but decided he wasn't really hungry, and walked down the corridor
to the turbolift. "Deck 12," he intoned, and the lift whisked him away.
He arrived at his destination, and exited the lift; walking along the corridor
until he reached engineering. He walked in, and began making the trip to his
duty panel, nodding at several of the crew along the way. Just before he sat
down, he caught the eye of the acting chief of engineering, Lieutenant Eddie
Freeman, who nodded at him. John lifted a hand to Freeman, and then turned
to his monitor.
Randall had been working on a program to better monitor the intermix
rate of the matter/antimatter convertors. This morning, he was putting the
finishing touches on the program, which he had already cleared with the
computer as being techincally sound and feasible. In the background, he
heard Freeman get a call from the bridge, and kept glancing over at the chief
to see if anything big was going on. He finished his program work, and saved
and shut it down; intending to show Freeman the program and get the chief's
thoughts on it.
He watched Freeman a few seconds more, then his own panel beeped.
He looked at the message, and read that the new ensign who had come aboard
at Starbase 32, Susan Maloney, was having trouble, and needed some help.
He got up from his terminal, and went to assist the young lady, who was very
pretty, and greeted him with relief when she saw who he was. They got busy,
and, after a few minutes, John saw Freeman grab a chair, and go to the sensors.
The chief wasn't showing any signs of stress, so the ensign thought, Well, he'll
call me if he needs me. He turned back to the pretty ensign, and continued
to help her.
END LOG
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in USS Challenger Briefings and Logs
Posted · Report post
OFFICIAL LOG
LIEUTENANT JOHN RANDALL
USS CHALLENGER
(Personal Log Stardate 10826.12)
John awakened in his biobed in sickbay, feeling refreshed after one of the
best sleep periods in his recent history. He looked up at the medical panel over
his head, and was startled to see that he had slept nearly 16 hours. 'Whatever
that nurse put in that hypo knocked me out', he thought, and was privately
grateful to the nurse. He also suddenly realized, as his stomach growled, that
he was VERY hungry. He pushed the call button for the nurse, and a few minutes
later, one came to his bed.
"I see we're awake," she smiled. "How are you feeling?" John smiled, and said,
"Much better, thank you, and HUNGRY. Could I get something to eat, please?"
The nurse smiled and said, "I think that can be arranged. Let me check with the
boss, first, though." She punched the intercom, and said, "Doctor, Lieutenant
Randall is awake, and is about to eat the bed linen. Do you think we can feed him?"
In her office, Dr. Gretchen Hanson, the chief medical officer, laughed and said,
"I'll be right out."
The doctor walked out into sickbay, and arrived at John's bed. She smiled at
him, and said, "Hungry, huh? That's a good sign. What do you feel like having?"
John, who had sat completely up, and was pleased that there was very little pain
in his leg, said, "Doctor, right now, I'm not too picky. Just something to tide me
over for a while." Gretchen turned to the nurse, and said, "Bring him whatever
he wants." The nurse nodded and left, and the doctor turned back to John.
"Here's the deal, Lieutenant. You keep down whatever you eat, and I will leave
orders for you to be released from sickbay. Fair enough?"
John smiled and said, "That's a deal, Doc. I have very little pain in my leg right
now, so I'm all for it." Gretchen smiled and nodded. "Good. I'm headed planetside
to talk to Dr. Hermitage again; I think it's going to take a personal visit to
reassure him." John nodded and said, "Doctor, I want to thank you for taking
care of me. As far as I'm concerned, you're the best I've went to." Gretchen
smiled at the compliment, winked at him, and turned to the nurse, who had
returned with a plate of food. "Nurse, I hope to be back soon." "Yes, Doctor,"
replied the nurse. Gretchen lifted a hand to John, who returned it, and the doctor
left sickbay.
The nurse handed the tray of food to John, who smiled and thanked her. The
lieutenant then began to eat hungrily, and, after only a few minutes, was finished.
He pushed the call button, and the nurse came over. "Thank you for this; it was
VERY good." The nurse smiled, and said, "You certainly made short work of that.
Now, let's see how well you retain what you just ate, and we'll go from there."
John nodded, and leaned back in his bed, closing his eyes.
An hour and a half passed, then the nurse came back to his bed. "How do you
feel, Lieutenant?" John looked at her, and smiled. "I feel fine, thank you." The
nurse smiled and said, "Well, I guess you're ready to get out of here, huh?"
Randall replied, "Yes, I am." The nurse smiled and said, "All right, per the doctor's
orders, you are officially released from sickbay. Here is a civilian outfit for you
to wear until you go back on duty. Take care, Lieutenant." "Thank you, nurse,"
said John, who put on the civilian clothes, and, limping just slightly, walked over
to the sickbay doors, which whooshed open at his presence.
He exited sickbay, and went along the corridor to the TL. "Deck 8," he said as
he entered, and, just before the door closed, thought he saw Commander Erica
Rinax enter into sickbay. The door closed, and the turbolift whisked him to his
destination. He exited the lift, and went along the corridor to his cabin. He
entered, took off the civilian clothes, and headed for the shower. He finished
showering, and heard his door chime. He put on a robe, and went to the door.
"Come in!" he called, and the door opened to reveal the figure of Commander
Erica Rinax standing there.
The female first officer took a step into the room, then blushed deeply when
she saw John dressed in a robe, and obviously had just finished a shower. She
began to back away from him, and mumbled, "Um, Lieutenant Randall, er, just,
um, checking that you have returned.....and, um, you are fine?" John smiled
at her, totally at ease, and said, "Hello, Commander, you caught me just
finishing a shower. Yes, I'm fine; my leg is more sore than anything right now.
I just need to exercise it, I believe."
The commander finished backing into the hallway, looking from side to side
as Randall talked to her, and said, "I...just wanted to make sure you were
getting along. Sorry to have disturbed you." John waved a hand, and then
went to one side of the door to spare Rinax any further embarassment.
"Actually, Commander, I would like to report for duty, if it's all right with you."
Rinax, who was obviously relieved when Randall stepped behind the door,
asked, "Have you been cleared by Dr. Hanson?" John replied, "Yes, sir, I
have." The commander nodded and said, "All right, then, report for your
next shift, and I will alert the captain that you are back on duty. Welcome back."
John smiled and said, "Thank you, Commander, and I'm sorry I embarassed
you. I will call the bridge in 15 minutes, if that's all right?" Rinax nodded, turned
and left, striding rapidly down the corridor. John's cabin door closed, and he
smiled to himself, then went to his computer terminal. He accessed the duty
roster, and saw that Lieutenant Eddie Freeman was planetside. He went to
his bedroom, put on a duty uniform, and exited his cabin, heading for the TL.
"Deck 12," he said, and the lift whisked him away.
The lift arrived at its destination, and John exited the lift, walking along the
corridor to engineering. Along the way, he nodded and smiled at crewpersons
who were clearly delighted to see him. He approached the engineering doors,
they whooshed open, and he walked inside to a mixture of gasps and shouts
from his engineering crewmates. He held up his hands, smiled, and said, "Hi,
guys, it's great to be back, the leg is sore, but I feel fine. Everyone please
remain as you were; I need to call the bridge."
The crew acknowledged, and resumed their duties. John walked to the main
console, and thumbed the intercom. "Enginering to bridge. Captain Ja'lale."
The reply came back almost instantly. "Ja'lale here, go ahead, Lieutenant. And
glad to see you out and about, by the way." "Thank you, sir," replied Randall.
"Just wanted to let you know I have been cleared by the doctor to go back
on duty. I am officially reporting now, sir." "Very good, Mr. Randall," boomed
the captain. "If you're unsure what to do, please report to Freeman, though
I'm sure he'll be pleased that you're back on duty." "Aye, sir, I will. Randall out."
John thumbed the intercom again. "Randall to Freeman, come in, please."
The answer came back instantly. "Hey, Randall, this is Freeman." "Hello,
Lieutenant, how's it going down there?" "Well, we're making progress,"
reported Freeman. "Not as much as we could be. But progress. How about
you? How are you doing?" Randall replied, "I'm doing better, thanks; just some
soreness in my leg. But, I'll exercise it out, no worries. How would be the best
way I could help?"
Freeman said, "If you're up for it, and don't mind working in a bombed-out
crater, I could use a little help down here." John grinned and said, "Say no
more; do I need to bring anything with me, besides the basic stuff?" "Just
the basic kit," said the acting chief. "We've got prety much everything we
need down here. The only other thing I'd recommend: bring a weapon. We
got looters." "Thanks for the heads-up," John said. "See you in about five
minutes, then. Randall out."
He turned, and saw Steve Davis working at the console. "Steve, you have
control here, I'm going to help the chief." Davis nodded, and Randall went
to get his kit, grabbed his phaser, checked it, put it in his holster, then
exited engineering, heading for the turbolift.
END LOG