Christopher Filippone's
PARADIGM SHIFT
EPISODE 10 "Borg Like Me"
part deux
By Michael Sweeney
The spanner slipped from Doctor Tedmoore's sweaty palm once again, causing his knuckles to grind against the bulkhead for the third time. "God damn it, why do I have to loosen these restraining bolts by hand?"
"Oh stop your whining," said Carol. "I told you already. My sonic screwdriver blew out weeks ago."
The Doctor leaned against the cold coil assembly and turned to Carol, sweat dripping down his forehead. "No, you missed my pronoun use - I want to know why I'm doing this laborious work. I have the hands of a surgeon. I can't risk damaging them on manual labor. I'm a doctor, not a construction worker."
Carol folded her arms and smiled. "I told the Captain I needed help. Everybody else is busy handling other repairs. That's how you wound up with me."
"I've never been inside a nacelle before," grumbled the Doctor. "I hate it in here. It's too quiet. And it's dangerous in here too. One wrong move, and zap - we're fried."
"It's perfectly safe. There's no juice in the warp field generators. The engines are cold."
"But why do I have to do the grunt work? I'm a doctor, not a jarhead. Why don't you do it?" he whined.
"Because I'm recalibrating the transducer assembly for the phase tolerance needed for optimum warp field transfer." With great pride, Carol held up a PADD displaying a schematic of the plumbing work on deck three. The doctor took one look at the complicated schematic and sighed with frustration. As he went to retrieve his fallen spanner, Carol struggled to choke back a laugh. He was all too easy to fool.
In truth, Carol didn't need any help at all. Nearly all the transwarp coil installation could be done from inside engineering. All she was really interested in was making the Condor's resident mad scientist suffer a little.
Carol despised Tedmoore ever since he implanted his Communing chip into her brain without ever knowing the risks involved. Now, thanks to his invention, she could use her thoughts to control key ship systems. That was the upside. The downside was that she could never leave the ship or have the chip removed. Either act would spell her death. This fate was true of every crewman equipped with Communing chip. Seeing the Doctor suffer, even a little, helped to ease Carol's cursed soul.
The doctor went after the restraining bolt once again, his bloody knuckles pulsating with pain. Through grinding teeth, he asked, "So, where are we, anyway?"
Carol gracefully placed her PADD under her arm and peered down the narrow access strip that traced the length of the nacelle. "You're still on the first coil."
"No, I'm talking about the ship - where are we docked?"
Carol waved a dismissing hand in the air. "Oh, some place safe. It's some kind of out-of-the-way space station."
"A Fed station?"
"Of course not!" spat Carol. "We'd be shot on sight at a Federation station. It's a small Ferengi station. It's really nothing more than a watering hole. It doesn't get many visitors, which makes it perfect for us. We can install the transwarp coils without anyone bothering us."
Tedmoore was getting exited. He could feel the large bolt he was fighting with slowly begin to loosen. "How the hell did Reming find this place?"
"He was hitching his way around the alpha quadrant for a few months before entering the academy - you know, taking rides on passing transports; seeing the less traveled back roads."
"You mean, he was a bum," chuckled Tedmoore.
"Something like that."
"And he thinks he can trust this Ferengi?" grunted Tedmoore, working the spanner with all his might. "One thing about the Ferengi, they don't believe in charity. They won't help us without getting something in return."
"I suppose so. Mike says the Captain has a plan."
Tedmoore laughed sarcastically. "That would be a first. Hey, and where do you get off calling him Captain? He's nobody's captain. He's a renegade."
Carol scoffed. "I gotta call him something. I'm not calling him Phil."
"That's what Ms. Reed calls him."
"Well, she's allowed. They've been on a first name basis ever since he started plunging his control rod of pleasure into her reaction chamber of love. "
Tedmoore shivered. "You certainly have a way with words, my dear." The Doctor smiled to himself. The restraining bolt was nearly off. "You don't think this little rescue mission of his has a chance, do you? I mean, even if we somehow dodge the Federation, which is a long shot, we won't stand a chance against the Borg. This whole thing is suicide."
"Maybe so," said Carol, begrudgingly. "Still, we owe it to both my brother and Sarah to try. That's why I'm involved. Why are you still here? If this mission means certain death, then why are you still here?"
Tedmoore smiled. "There are things worse than death, my child. And speaking of death, how can you be sure Nick is even alive? I mean, you know that anyone with the Communing chip will die if separated from the Condor. Your brother's bond with the ship was strong; he was one of the first to be implanted. No one with the chip can live for long once the symbiotic link is broken. No, the Captain, as you call him, is off his rocker. Even if the admiral's daughter is alive, I don't see how Nick could be. Reming is risking all our lives just to ease his own guilty conscience. This excursion of his can only end badly."
As Carol listened to the Doctor's words, she struggled to suppress the cold lump of depression growing in her throat. She needed to believe that her brother was still out there somewhere waiting to be rescued. Her delicate emotional state depended on it. She already felt guilty for getting him involved with the Communing experiment in the first place. If Nick were dead, the disappointment would be more than her heart could bear. Carol had to believe he was still alive. It was the only thing keeping her sane. The Doctor, on the other hand, had no problem with dashing her hopes. Inwardly, she believed he took pleasure in it. So, in retaliation, Carol turned to him and said, "You know what? You're a real asshole. Do you know that?"
Tedmoore ignored Carol's slanderous attack. "Where is Reming now, anyway?" he asked.
"He's dealing with the Ferengi owner as we speak."
"Really? I wish him luck," Finished the job, the Doctor handed the massive grease coated bolt from his bloody hands to her pristine ones. "Here, all done."
"Good, now get started on the next. You only have fifteen more to go. And if you break the spanner, don't worry. I have a rusty spoon you can use."
"Come on," he griped. "I'm a doctor, not a, a..."
"Oh, shut up!"
***
Reming sat alone at the bar, peering into the dark brown liquid sloshing around the bottom of the rectangular glass he held in his hands. The liquid tested bitter. Reming didn't like it much. However, it did a fine job of filling his head with a warm buzz. That part he liked.
Reming needed the buzz. He needed to be taken to the place only alcohol could send him. He needed the world around him to melt away. He needed to forget, at least for a short while.
And yet his troubles found their way back into his conscious mind. From their mysterious escape from Starbase 47, to their successful, albeit tense, transwarp coil heist, right up to their present docking - all of it kept sneaking back into his head. The bitter drink wasn't working well enough. More needed to be pored down his throat.
"You want more?" growled the small Ferengi behind the bar.
Reming looked at his glass. He could see the bottom. "Yes, please."
The short orange fellow bent down and retrieved a bottle from behind the counter. He uncapped it and then pored a portion of its contents into Reming's empty glass. Reming wasted no time. The glass was half way to his lips as soon as the barman finished filling it.
"Look, hu-mon. We need to talk."
Reming licked a stray drop of liquid from the corner of his mouth. "What about, Blech?"
The unsavory Ferengi leaned across the bar toward Reming. "I let your ship dock here at my small out-of-the-way station. I let you perform repairs on your ship. I even let you sit at my bar. For what? Time is money, my friend. I demand retribution for my generosity."
"I told you when we got here, I'd make it all worth your while."
"You don't understand, Captain. I took you at your word - that's a crime on my world."
"So why did you?"
"Because I've had dealings with the Federation in the past. They've always been most generous. They never stiffed me, that's for sure."
Reming turned his blurry gaze to his friend. "And you think I'm gonna stiff you? Is that it?"
The Ferengi bared his gnarled teeth with anger. "My patients are wearing thin with you, hu-mon. I demand payment - NOW!"
"Okay, what do you want? I have no money and I'm sure my credit stipend has been revoked by now."
"I've check already. It has! Tell me, Captain, what did you do that was so bad?"
Reming knit his brow. "What do you mean?"
"I always check my investments. I checked on you. You, your ship, your entire crew is in big trouble. The entire quadrant is searching for you. What did you do?"
Reming took another gulp. "It's a big misunderstanding."
"I bet."
"Blech, I'm gonna pay you, don't worry."
"You don't get it, do you? Starfleet has a bounty on you. It's big. More than you can afford. Tell me, what's stopping me from turning you in right now?"
Reming calmly looked down into his glass. It was empty again. Slowly, he ran his finger along the inside of the rim, trying to collect a small amount of beverage residue. Satisfied with the job, he took his finger and shoved it into his mouth. He swashed it around before finally removing it. Wiping his wet finger along his uniform, Reming said, "You won't turn me in, Blech."
Blech winced, slightly disgusted by Reming strange finger performance. "How do you know?" he asked.
"Because you've already made a mistake. You helped us. That makes you an accessory after the fact. The Federation barely tolerates your little watering hole in this small corner of the galaxy as it is. Given enough reason, they'd push you out the first chance they got."
"I'll take that chance."
"Wait, Blech. There's another reason you won't turn me in." Reming looked down at his glass, then back at his intent friend. He placed the glass on the counter and waited patiently. The smarmy fellow got Reming's message. He refilled his glass in record time.
Reming took a gulp of the bitter brown liquid, then continued. "You were so interested in my crimes. Why? Didn't your digging tell you anything?"
"Nothing," growled Blech.
"So, you figured it must have been pretty bad. As a matter of fact, you're hoping, maybe, I stole something. Am I right?"
A thin smile curled up on Blech's face. "What is it?"
"Slow down there, buddy. Terms come first. You let my crew stay a few more days to finish our repairs then, when we leave, you forget we were ever here. Got it?"
"If you keep drinking like that, my liquor cabinet won't forget."
Reming waved his free hand at Blech. "Pish posh, my friend. Pish posh. Those are my terms. What do you say?"
"How many days do you want to stay?"
"Hmmm, let's say three."
"Let's say one."
Reming winced as if poked with a pointed stick. "One? That doesn't give my people enough time to get the ship ready."
"There's word going around that a Starfleet vessel is heading this way. It'll be here in two days."
Reming got the point. "Fine. One day."
Blech rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He began to drool too. Bargaining always excited him. "What are you offering, hu-mon? Tell me now."
Reming took another health swallow of his drink. "What do you know about transwarp technology?"
Blech scoffed. "Only that every race wants it and none have it."
"Starfleet is close. That is, they were close. I'm pretty sure I set them back a bit. You see, me and my people stole some highly sensitive hardware."
"It being?"
"Eight transwarp coils in mint condition."
Blech's jaw nearly hit the bar. His eyes went wide with shock. He couldn't believe what his huge ears had just heard. He forced a smile over his stunned face. "You must be joking."
"No joke. We need six for our trip. The rest are yours if you want them. Think of it, Blech. You could present them to your government personally. Your race could be the first in the quadrant to have transwarp capable ships. Think of the profit!"
"I am," squealed Blech with joy.
Out of the corner of his eye Reming spotted his lovely first officer, Donna Reed, stepping into the bar. She had no problem spotting Reming since the place was empty. Reming took the last mouth full of alcohol and slammed the empty glass against the bar. "Think about my offer, Blech. In the mean time, I'll be over here with my sweetie."
With some effort, Reming stepped from his barstool and walked to Ms. Reed. With little grace, he flung his arms around her and leaned in close. "Hello, honey."
Reed waved her hand in front of her nose. "Ugh, you've been drinking. I didn't know you were a drinker."
"I thought it was time I learned."
Reed tried to pry herself from her intoxicated mate, but it was of no use. She resorted to covering her mouth and nose to shield her from the smell. "How're the negotiations going?" she asked, a bit muffled.
Reming smiled weakly. It was all he could muster at the moment. "No worries. I have him eating right out of my hand."
"HEY HU-MON!" called Blech. "Get over here."
Reming heeded Blech's call. With some confidence in his stride and little dignity, he strolled back to the bar with Reed still by his side. "What is it, old buddy? Do we have a deal?"
Blech smiled. "No deal."
His unexpected decision made Reming woozy. If he hadn't been leaning against Reed, he would have surely fallen over. "What?" he asked, exasperated. "I'm giving you the ultimate profit making opportunity of a lifetime. How can you say no deal?"
"No deal," repeated Blech. Reming became weepy, "There must be something I can offer you to change your mind. Just name it."
Blech uncurled a crooked finger and pointed it in Reed's direction. "I want her."
A look of shock flashed over Reed's face. Needless to say, she was utterly appalled by the suggestion. She flung Reming off herself and rolled her hands into tight fists. "Me?" she yelled. "You can't have me, you little dog faced creep."
"Now wait a minute, honey. Let's not be hasty," said Reming.
With the fires of hell in her eyes, Reed glared at Reming "What did you say?!"
Fearing for his life, Reming looked away from Reed. He turned back to Blech. He was the only thing less threatening in view. "How long would you want her for?" he asked.
"Two hours," answered Blech.
Reming flung out his arms at Reed. Smiling broadly, he said, "You see, honey? Only two hours. That's not so bad."
Reed locked her hands at her hips and laughed. "Yeah, if I can do it with you, I guess I can do it with anybody."
Reming smiled, "There you go. That's the attitude." Reming took a few steps closer to Reed, closing the gap between them. In a poor attempt at whispering, he said, "Look, Donna, all you have to do is rub his ears for a while. That's all. That's what Ferengi like. Come on, what do you say?"
Reed shook her head and sighed. "I don't believe this."
Blech then broke in. "Of course, you'll have to be naked as well."
Reming had to step away from Reed again. The many shades of red she was turning made him sure she was about to explode. She did. With shrieks and screams and wild gestures, she made it clear what she thought of Blech's suggestion. She also made it clear what she thought of Blech and suggested to him what he should do with himself.
When she had finished ranting, Reming stepped in again. "How about just topless then?"
Blech smiled broadly, "We have a deal."
With that, Reed reached a level of anger only a few in the history of the universe had ever reached. Her face reddened. Her eyes flared. Her chest heaved. Through bared teeth, she looked at Reming. "I can't believe what you're doing, Phillip," she said, harshly.
Reming smiled meekly and shrugged. "He'll turn us in if you don't."
Reed let out a frustrated laugh. "You know what? Fine. I'll do it, but not for you, Philip. I'm doing this for Nick and Sarah. They deserve this sacrifice, not you." She took a step closer to Reming to address him more personally. "I only have one more thing to say to you, Phillip, and here it is." With her white knuckled fist she struck him hard against the jaw. Reming went down with no trouble.
Stepping over Reming's unconscious body, Reed turned her attention back to Blech. "Now come on, you horny little bastard. Let's get this over with."
***
The next day, Reming found himself sitting behind the desk in his ready room praying for death. His head felt like there were tiny miners searching for borite banging away against the inside of his skull. It was a hang over; something he didn't recall ever experiencing before.
He should go down to see the doctor, but he decided against it. With one quick scan, the doctor would know what his problem was and that would be that. The doctor would laugh at him and then, like some gossip queen, proceed to tell as many people as he could. Seeing Reming suffer pleased Tedmoore to no end. That was the kind of guy he was. Kick a person when he's down. Turn the knife one more time and laugh while doing it. No, Reming didn't want to give him the satisfaction. He'd suffer though it.
The pain in his jaw was the thing that really puzzled him. The whole left side of his face throbbed. He didn't remember anyone describing this kind of ache associated with a hangover. It didn't matter much. He'd deal with that too.
Most of the night before was a blur. Reming didn't remember much. He remembered striking a deal with Blech, the owner of the tiny space station where the Condor was docked. He remembered drinking a lot too. He couldn't recall much else. He remembered the deal, or most of it. He remembered handing over two transwarp coils to Blech as payment for his silence. There was a complication, though. Blech didn't take the deal at first. Reming had to give something else up. What was it? Reming couldn't remember. Oh well, it would come to him eventually.
There came a loud blaring noise. It rang though Reming's aching head. The sound ripped though his ears, sending his head spinning. Reming recognized the sound immediately. It was his door chime. "Ugh, come in," said Reming wearily.
The doors slid open and in stepped Donna Reed. The room grew noticeably colder the moment she stepped in. Reed quietly walked to the empty seat beside Reming's desk and sat down. She stared at him with cold dead eyes. Her expression was blank.
Reming, his hands constantly rubbing the sides of his aching head, turned to face Reed. "What?" he whined. "What is it? What do you want?"
Under her arm Reed carried a small PADD. She took the PADD and slammed against the desktop. The sharp noise sent vibrations flying though Reming's paper skull. Reed clearly intended to contribute to Reming's suffering. She succeeded with flying colors.
Grimacing all the while, Reming picked up the PADD and attempted to read it. The words looked like gibberish to him. He couldn't read it. The pains parading around his head would not allow it. "What does it say? Oh, just tell me."
"In short, it says the transwarp coil installation is complete ahead of schedule. As soon as the drive coils are reconnected, we'll be ready to leave," said Reed dryly.
Reming felt the temperature in the room drop even more. Reed was the source. Her every word sent chills down Reming's spine. Through eyes accented with red streaks, he looked up at her. "What's wrong? What'd I do?"
"You did a lot of drinking last night. Feeling it today, are we?"
Reming grit his teeth. "Yes, we are."
"That's good," said Reed coldly.
"What's good? The fact that my head feels like it's about to explode? That's good?"
"It's not even half of what you deserve."
Reming shook his head, "What are you talking about?"
"Don't even pretend you don't remember." She stood and walked to the door, leaving icicles in her wake. "Call me when we're ready to shove off. We need to change our transponder signal, don't forget. We can't be announcing ourselves as the USS Condor if everyone's looking for us. I'm going back to my cabin. If you want me, I'll be taking my fiftieth shower."
The moment Reed disappeared out the door, Reming let his head drop to the desk with a soft thud. "Ah shit. I guess I screwed up again." His desk was cold and hard. It wasn't meant for sleeping on. With a significant amount of effort, Reming lifted his head again. If he intended to sleep, he should probably do it in his quarters. He wasn't needed on deck one, anyway. Everyone had a job and they were doing it. The ship was in capable hands. What could go wrong?
***
"Warning! Modifying a Starfleet transponder signal without proper authorization is illegal," announced the computer.
As she took another gulp of her caffeine fortified beverage, Carol Smith could feel her blood pressure rising. She absolutely hated arguing with the ship's computer. Even with all its advanced computing abilities, real intelligence still seemed just beyond its grasp. And yet, to Smith, the Condor's computer system seemed different somehow. She had no evidence to support her belief. All she had was a feeling. She couldn't report a feeling to the Captain, so she decided to keep it to herself.
Smith was back at it after on only a few hours sleep. Keeping her focus was becoming a chore. If she could get the transponder changed quickly, maybe she could find an out-of-the-way corner to collapse in. That became her new motivation. She took a deep breath and started again. "Okay, computer. Let's try something else. Tell me the names of any Challenger class ships in active service."
"The USS Condor, NCC 102868, is the only Challenger class ship currently in active service."
"Okay, fine. Give me the names of all Challenger class ships and their current status."
After a series of whines and beeps, the computer finally answered. "The USS Challenger, NX 191611, is currently in dry dock at Utopia Planitia ship yards, Mars. The USS Wombat, NCC 334211, was dismantled for parts during the Dominion war. The USS Condor, NCC 102868, is currently in active service. A bulletin is attached - its crew is to be arrested..."
"Never mind that, computer. Please continue."
"The USS Snow Monkey, NCC 123456, was converted into a playground for the children on planet Androgynous IV."
Smith leaned against the bulkhead closest to the warp drive assembly and looked up with bewilderment. "I must to be hearing things. Give me that last one again, please."
"After numerous design related failures, the USS Snow Monkey, NCC 123456, was decommissioned and converted into a playground facility for the children living on planet Androgynous IV in 2370."
"Now I've heard everything." muttered Carol. "Computer, this is what I want to do. I am going to modify the Condor's transponder signal. If you give me a hard time, so help me I will take you apart, piece by piece, with my bare teeth."
The computer bleeped sharply. "Please state new transponder signature."
***
Reclined on his soft sofa, Reming was nearly asleep. The lights in his quarters had been dimmed enough to satisfy his aching head. A cool damp cloth now draped his forehead. The past several hours had been tumultuous. Perhaps a few minutes of quiet would do him good. He was nearly asleep now, just about to slip into the abyss of unconsciousness.
Then his comm. badge chirped, yanking him back to reality. Reming slapped at it in annoyance. "Reming, here. What is it?"
"Captain, we have a hail coming in from the station." Mike Parks' voice told him over the intercom.
Reming sighed. He loathed dealing with the little troll, but it was the price of being a fugitive. A fugitive - he had almost forgotten. With little ease, Reming managed to pull himself up into a sitting position. Beside him was a small table. On it sat an even smaller terminal. "Pipe it through to my viewer," Reming said as he activated the personal workstation.
The screen jumped to life with a strange Ferengi opening message which quickly switched to the repulsive Ferengi station owner. "Greetings, hu-mon."
"Blech, our business is done. What do you want?"
"I just thought I would tell you that your day is up. You must leave." Blech sneered at him.
"What attention to customer service," Reming returned dryly. "My chief engineer is working as fast as she can. We will be out of your hair in a few hours."
The Ferengi's sneer faltered for a second but came back stronger then ever. "No, hu-mon. I said one day. 24 of your hours. You leave now."
Reming fought off the rising urge to activate a site-to-site transport so that he could throttle the sneering annoyance. "Well, it will be a Bajoran day. 29 hours."
The Ferengi leaned forward filling the viewer with an ear to ear sneer. "Then you had better start thinking of what you will tell the Federation starship that will be here in ten minutes."
Reming was in no mood for negotiating new terms. "Don't even try to threaten me, Blech. We've got long range sensor probes just outside the system monitoring ship traffic, and we've been jamming your outgoing communications since we got here."
"Then your long range sensor probes will be detecting the incoming starship that is eager to find out why I have not responded to their inquiries."
Reming felt his heart jump into his throat. "You're not bluffing."
The screen went black as the Ferengi cut the channel. Reming jumped up from the sofa and slapped his comm. badge. "Reming to Bridge!" The doors of his cabin had barely opened when Reming shot through them and sprinted down the hallway.
"Reed here."
"Check the long range sensor probes for incoming starships! Prepare to disembark!"
Reming stopped running. The turbo lift wasn't there! Where was the freaking turbo lift! Reming slapped the turbo lift call button repeatedly.
"What? Carol isn't nearly ready to leave yet."
When the turbo lift doors opened with the usual swoosh, Reming jumped in. "Bridge! Now!" he barked.
"What? Who are you talking to? This is the bridge? What's going on? Why are you panting? Are you drunk again?" Reed asked sarcastically.
"Check long range sensors! NOW! Disembark! We're leaving now!"
A new voice interrupted the conversation. It was Parks. "Captain! I'm reading a boogey coming in on a six o'clock tangent! It'll be here in ten minutes!" His voice jumped three octaves.
Reming could hear Reed swearing at her console, the ship, the Ferengi, him, and everything else in the universe. "Phillip, it's the USS Challenger, Galaxy class. We're shielded by the planet, but they'll know we're here in three minutes."
Reming joined her in cursing. "Reming to engineering!"
"Carol here. We're pretty busy down here. No, no, no, this one goes there that one goes there."
The turbo lift doors finally opened and Reming bolted out onto the bridge. "Carol, we need warp speed in three minutes or we're all dead."
Reed looked up at Reming, sweat was pouring off his brow as he sat heavily into the command chair. Michael Parks' was struggling with the helm, trying to plot a course that led out of the system but stayed in the planets sensor shadow for as long as possible, and not freak out at the same time.
"I'll appreciate your joke when I'm less busy." Carol Smith replied.
Commander Reed cleared her throat. "Lieutenant Commander Smith, we have detected the USS Challenger on an intercept course with the Ferengi station. We will be out of the planet's sensor shadow and visible to them in less then three minutes."
There was a long pause. Reming glanced at Reed, who sat staring at the view screen. Her forehead was furrowed in concern.
"I'll have to get back to you on that one, Commander." Carol finally replied. Reed looked back at Reming. Now she was sweating.
"Lieutenant Parks, go to one hundred twenty percent impulse," ordered Reming.
Pushing the impulse engines would make them go faster, but also increase the time dilation. Time on the ship would feel normal, but in relation to the rest of the galaxy time would actually slow down. It was risky. Warp drive allowed a ship to travel faster and not suffer from the time dilation. Parks could only push the impulse engines so fast for so long before the Condor would become a sitting duck moving in slow motion.
Parks swallowed a little too loudly. "Impulse at 120 percent. Timing for engine pull back at 98 seconds."
God, Reming thought, less then two minutes. The Challenger would spot the Condor and zero right in. Then they'd have a race on their hands. Reming was no fool. The small nimble Condor could run circles around the large Galaxy class ship at impulse. But once the chase went to warp speeds the Galaxy class ship would have them. They needed as big a lead as possible.
"Engineering to bridge." Carol Smith called over the intercom. Reed looked over at Reming again.
"Gimme some good news, Commander." Reming leaned forward.
"It's no good, the warp drive will take twenty minutes to bring back online." Reming closed his eyes and pretended that he didn't hear it.
"We don't have twenty minutes." Reed stood up and moved forward to look over Parks shoulder. "We need it now."
"Commander, the drive coils are physically disconnected from the plasma conduits." Carol stated flatly. "There is no way to reconnect them to the power grid on the fly. The power will surge through the coils and fry them instantly."
Reming realized he was rocking and hugging himself. He stopped and tried thinking instead. "Can we bring the transwarp coils online?" he blurted out.
Reed turned and gave him a frown. Another awkward pause followed.
"The transwarp coils are connected to the plasma grid, but I don't have any data on how they will respond to a power up."
Reming stood up and felt a sliver on confidence return. "Commander Smith, we don't have time. We'll have to test them on the fly."
Parks coughed. "We have moved out of the planets shadow and are now visible to the Challenger. I am reducing our speed to 100 percent impulse."
Reed glanced nervously at Reming. He was rubbing his brow in frustration.
"Captain, we have absolutely no idea what to expect from the coils." Carol explained over the intercom.
Reming clasped his hands behind his back and stood straight. "I expect to be in the Challenger's brig in five minutes if we don't do this."
"The Challenger has altered course. She is on an intercept with us, moving at full impulse. She will clear the planet and be warp able in 30 seconds."
***
Lieutenant Commander Hobsen walked down around the bridge horseshoe and stood behind the ops station. "Is it the Condor?" he asked the ops officer.
"Long range scans match the configuration of a Challenger class starship."
Hobsen had expected as much. He didn't like it though. "Captain Peirceson, report to the bridge." Hodsen called out.
"Commander, the target ship has long moved out of the planet's gravity well. However, they have not gone to warp."
Hobsen leaned over the ops officer. "Jaxor, are there any strange frequencies coming from the target? Could they be readying the transwarp coils?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary. Their ion trail is very hot though, it looks like they had their engine above 100 percent while they were in the sensor shadow." Why hadn't they gone to warp? Hobsen wondered.
***
"Why don't we just go to warp?" Tedmoore looked across engineering at Carol Smith. She was standing talking to the ceiling, well, actually the microphone pickups in the ceiling. She looked back at him and glared.
"Captain," Carol paused. She felt the room spin around her as she tried desperately to think the problem through. She glanced at Tedmoore again and pulled herself up straight. "Standby for transwarp drive."
Tedmoore hadn't expected that. Smith moved her hands across her console and began routing power to the transwarp coils.
"Okay, Doctor, we're going to need every ounce of luck and smarts to pull this off." Smith glanced up at him, and Tedmoore nodded at her in response. Carol looked back down at her console and braced herself. "Bridge, this is engineering. Transwarp drive at your command."
***
"Ah, Commander, we're reading those unusual frequency spikes you were looking for," Jaxor stated as Hobsen looked at the ops console.
"Go to warp, ready tractor beams," Hobsen ordered.
The turbo lift to his left opened and Captain Peireson walked onto the bridge. "Report," he barked.
Hobsen looked up at him. "It's the Condor. It looks like they are trying to go to transwarp."
Peireson walked over and sat in his command chair. "Time to intercept?"
"Ten seconds, coming out of warp now," Jaxor reported.
Peirceson sat up. "Fire a warning shot across their bow."
***
"The Challenger has come out of warp. They are right on top of us!" Parks felt his heart racing. Reming felt his own heart race. A phaser beam exploded across the view screen.
"That was close," Reed called out.
"They just want to get our attention," Reming replied.
Reed looked up. "They are hailing us."
Reming patted his head and stood. "It's now or never. Mr. Parks, activate transwarp drive."
Parks moved his hands across his console. Abruptly, the bridge lights dimmed and flickered. That can't be good, Reming thought. Suddenly the deck lurched.
"The Challenger has fired on us! Shields at 87 percent." Reed reported. The deck lurched again, only different this time.
"Transwarp coils powered to seventy five percent." Parks stated as calmly as possible. The lights dimmed again. "Power at eighty percent!"
A wave of nausea washed over Reming. It felt like the gravity systems were malfunctioning.
"Power at ninety percent!"
And then it happened. A whining noise that Reming hadn't noticed before suddenly became loud and unbearable. Reming clasped his hands over his ears. Reed was doing the same. Parks had one ear covered, and the other on his console, but just barely.
The lights flickered wildly, and the gravity system washed up and down. Reming's inner ear was going nuts and his stomach turned knots. Suddenly, sparks exploded from somewhere behind them, showering Reed and Reming.
Reed slapped her console and looked up at Reming with fear in her eyes. "We've got a serious problem here."
***
In engineering all hell had broken loose. The warp core was literally screaming. A coolant leak was streaming bluish steam everywhere. Carol felt her head ready to explode as she tried desperately to equalize multiple competing harmonic frequencies. She watched as critical failures cascaded through the ship's systems. It was as though the world had gone mad, the transwarp coils were producing frequencies in ranges that shouldn't affect any systems, but it affected every system!
Tedmoore had his hands clamped firmly over his ears. He had no idea what was happening, but he knew it was bad. A sudden wave of nausea told him that the gravity systems, the structural integrity field and a dozen other systems were not playing well with each other. The deck was literally shaking, requiring him to practically hug the console to stay standing. He glanced down at his console and saw what he feared most. The warp core containment systems were failing. The core was going to breach. Tedmoore felt a shiver of fear run down his spine. He knew that if anyone could make it work, it was Carol. He glanced up at her and felt another wave of nausea stronger then the rest.
Carol had collapsed. Blood was streaming from her left ear. Tedmoore jumped forward and pulled his medical tricorder partway out of his pocket. As he moved, the inertial dampening field spiked with the gravity field. Sudden blackness washed over him and the warp core stopped screaming.
***
"She's shaking apart! I'm reading cascading system failures across the ship," Jaxor called out. Captain Peirceson sat quietly. Commander Hobsen glanced at him. He didn't expect anything, but he had a feeling he should expect the worst.
Hobsen looked back at the view screen. The Condor was literally shaking. The long under swung nacelles looked like they would come off any second. Suddenly the small ship lurched sideways, and was enveloped by a shimmering green aura. Hobsen stood up straight.
A double light flashed from the Condor's warp engines and then ship surged forward into a burst of light.
"She's gone!" Jaxor practically shouted.
Hobsen let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. He turned to his captain. "Should I lay in a pursuit course?"
Captain Peirceson stood and straightened his tunic. "No, launch several high warp probes. Then return to the Ferengi station." Peirceson walked across the bridge to his ready room.
"Captain, should we look for anything in particular." Jaxor asked.
Hobsen frowned.
Peirceson gave one last look at the view screen. "Yes, a debris field."
***
Reming opened his eyes. He was flat sprawled out on the ground. It was dark. Darker then dark. There was no light at all. That was bad. For a time Reming wondered if he had been suddenly struck blind.
"Emergency lights," he called out. Nothing. That was worse.
Reming pulled himself to his knees and search around him with his outstretched hands. "Parks? Reed?" he called out again.
A moaning noise greeted him. He followed it, not far. It was Reed. He felt around her gingerly, soft parts, hard parts. Wet parts. It felt like blood. Reming's heart rushed in fear. Please be okay. Please. Reming touched his comm. badge hopefully. "Bridge to Tedmoore."
Nothing.
Donna moaned again. Reming wanted desperately to hold her, make her better.
"Captain?" It was Parks.
"Mike, where are you?" Reming looked around in the dark trying to hear where Parks was.
"I'm, I'm over by the view screen. I can feel the bottom of the emitter array."
Reming pictured it in his head. "Good, keep going to the left, there is an emergency supply cabinet there."
"Got it."
A palmlight tore through darkness. Reming blinked away the tears that had built up. The brilliant beam of light caught him right in the face, burning his eyes. Reming sighed quietly. He wasn't blind, after all.
Parks walked over to Reming and flipped open the medical tricorder. "Minor cuts and scrapes. Slight concussion. Nothing serious."
Reming felt his heart slow down. "Oh, thank God she's okay."
"No, that's you. The Commander's a mess."
Reming's heart jumped again.
"Fractured ribs, multiple concussions, internal bleeding." Parks shinned the light around the bridge. "Looks like the gravity systems are working."
That thought hadn't even occurred to Reming.
A flood of static burst through the overhead intercom. The abrupt sound made Reming jump.
"Engizzzeringbuzztozzbrizzdge."
Reming took the tricorder from Parks and looked Reed over closer. "Bridge here. Damage report."
Parks opened the medikit and began tending to Reed as best he could. He fumbled with gauze and placed band aides on her at odd angles.
"Syzzztemszzzoutbuzzshisho.zzEmergenzzzypowerzzsoon."
Reming wiped his brow. His hand came back soaked with blood. He cut his forehead somehow. "We hear you. All possible speed. Tell Tedmoore that Commander Reed is seriously hurt."
"Onzzbuzzway."
Suddenly the emergency lights came up. Red light lit up the main arrays, but shadows loomed in the corners. Moments later the turbolift opened and Tedmoore walked across to Reed. He waved his tricorder around meaningfully.
"She's good enough to move." he glanced up at Reming. Without hesitation Reming picked up Reed and followed Tedmoore into the turbolift.
"Mike, find out where we are and get that warp drive working."
Parks saluted Reming as the turbolift doors closed.
***
"Full power is back up," announced Carol. That news was obvious with the bridge awash in brilliant white light again. "Damage was minor. We were lucky." Carol reported with a smile. Reming looked over the terminal screen. They were lucky.
"And you?" he asked her.
"Just a busted eardrum. No biggie. Nothing the fine doctor can't patch up."
"Any idea what happened, with the ship, that is?" asked Reming.
"Not yet. It was some sort of interface problem. I'm running some diagnostics. I think I've walled off the problem areas. Mostly the transwarp coils. Hopefully we won't encounter the same problems the next time we try it. Oh, I almost forgot." She handed a PADD she had tucked under her arm to Reming. "Here."
Reming glanced at the PADD and then at Carol with amazement. "This...this is our new transponder signature? This is what you came up with?"
Carol folded her arms and smiled proudly. "Yes, sir."
Reming rubbed his head. It still ached, but now he was not sure if his discomfort was due to his hangover or the gash Tedmoore had quickly patched. It had to be the gash. How long do hangovers last, anyway? He looked at the PADD and then again at the engineer. "But Carol - dear sweet Carol - this says our new registration number is 123456. You don't think that's a bit conspicuous?"
"Sir, it's a valid number. I took it off a decommissioned Challenger class ship."
"Okay, fine," sighed Reming. "But, what about this name?"
"Why, what's wrong with it?"
Reming stared at her with wide glassy eyes. "Are you kidding? This says our new designation is the USS Condom. According to this, we'll be showing up on Starfleet sensors as the USS Condom, NCC 123456. We might as well hang a sign out that says 'escaped criminals - capture us.'"
Carol looked disappointed. It was a look she rarely wore. "Oh, I see your point. It was quicker to just change one letter. I changed the 'R' to an "M". I thought -"
The weary ex-captain rested his hand on the young woman's shoulder. "I know, Carol," sighed Reming. "Forget it. I understand it's the best you could come up with in a short time. At least they won't see us as we truly are, unless somebody looks out a window." He forced a smile. "Good work, kid."
Carol was not impressed with Reming's poor attempt at faking adoration. "Thanks a lot," said Carol sardonically. She snatched the PADD from Reming's weak grasp and headed off the bridge.
After she left, Reming fell back into his captain's chair and let out a long held breath. He looked down at the only other bridge crewman present. It was Parks. He was studying the sensors while trying to keep the ship on coarse. He was doing the job of two crewmen. Reed should have been manning the helm. She wasn't. Donna was off in her cabin tending to her wounds and her new obsession with cleanliness.
It comforted Reming to know at least Donna wasn't hurt too badly during their short transwarp hop. The Doctor had her on her feet in under an hour, about the same amount of time it took Carol and her staff to get the ship back in order. People and starships could be glued back together so quickly. That fact never ceased to amaze Reming.
On most starships, one crewman couldn't handle two bridge assignments. The Condor wasn't most starships. It was the bicycle in a fleet of Saturn rockets. The Condor had controls simple enough for a moron to handle. Parks fit the mold perfectly. Reming looked at Parks queerly. It was obvious that he had heard the whole conversation between him and the chief Engineer Carol Smith. Parks kept his eyes glued on the viewer, trying very hard to look disinterested. Reming knew differently. "Lieutenant Parks, how many female crewman do we have on board right now?" he asked.
"Uh, let me check, sir." Parks was about to punch up the data when Reming stopped him.
"My God, Mike, there's only seven of us on the ship, can't you just tell me?"
"Oh, yes. Okay, let me think. Should I include the Commander?"
"Is she a woman?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then count her."
"There are three women on board," answered Parks.
"Thee women and I've managed to piss off two of them. Amazing. Give me a chance, I'm sure I can find a way to make Lieutenant Terry mad too."
Just then, a small warning tone came from Parks' console. "We're coming up on the outpost that guards our side of The Grahalla Wormhole."
"Fine," said Reming. "Take us to one quarter impulse."
"How would you like me to approach the station, sir?" asked Parks.
"I don't know - Fly casual."
"Aye, sir."
"And remember one thing, Mike, if anybody asks, this is the USS Condom, NCC 123456. You got it?"
"How could I forget?"
Reming tapped his communication badge. "Donna, if you're feeling up to it, please report to the bridge. It's time to play starship again."
***
"Okay, there's the starbase," said Parks, pointing to the white mushroom shaped object on the main view screen. "What should we do?"
Reming sat slumped in his captain's chair. The fingers of his right hand hung down over his eyes. "I have no idea. Head for the wormhole, I guess."
He let his eyes swivel over to Reed seated beside him. "Sound okay with you, Donna?" he grumbled.
She was seated in a slumped manner as well, almost mirroring Reming's posture. "Whatever," she answered without ever looking at Reming. Clearly she was still quite perturbed at him.
Reming wished he knew what he had done to upset her so. Before the disaster with the Borg, he and Reed had developed a steamy relationship. Reming liked that. It was fun for him. Now, it seemed, the fun was over. Something must have happened while they were docked at that Ferengi station. As Starbase L45 grew larger in the viewer, Reming found himself wishing he could remember what happened that night. He remembered drinking a lot. He remembered Blech leering at Reed. He remembered drinking some more. He remembered Blech threatening to cancel the deal. He remembered Blech leering at Reed some more. Then, like a flash of hot plasma, Remeing suddenly remembered.
***
"Commander Kybosh," called the young ensign manning the OPS station on Starbase L45. "We have an unauthorized starship heading for the wormhole."
The grizzled old Kybosh leaned over the young woman's station and studied the display. "What ship is it?"
"Sensors show it as the USS Condom." After announcing the name aloud, the woman reddened and bit her lower lip in an attempt to stifle a laugh.
"The what?" roared Kybosh. "What kind of a name is that?"
"It could be the fugitive starship, sir. It matches the configuration."
"Well, of course it's the fugitive ship. How stupid do they think we are?" The Commander slapped his communications badge. "Launch interceptors. Attack that ship!"
***
"Oh shit, the jig is up. They're sending interceptors after us," said Parks.
Both Reming and Reed sat bolt upright and watched as eight tiny specks flared from the massive space station and headed for the Condor. "I knew that damn transponder signal would hang us," said Reming. "Shields up, please, Mike."
As Parks hit the switch, activating the shields, Reed jumped from her command chair and bounded for the helm.
Reming looked over at Reed. "Take us..."
"Yeah, I know. I know," interrupted Reed. "Head for the big blue swirly thing."
As the Condor took a sharp right turn towards the wormhole, the one-man interceptors closed in fast. All eight fired at once, striking the Condor's shields. The ship took no damage from the barrage, but the shields were weakened significantly.
The Condor was nearly there now. The tiny science vessel was seconds away from the mouth of wormhole. Unfortunately, the eight Federation interceptors were closing the gap between them and the Condor. Their gun ports flared again, preparing to barrage the Condor once more.
"We're not gonna make it!" yelled Parks.
Reed wiped the sweat from her brow but kept her steely gaze fixed on the view screen. She didn't respond to Mike Parks' proclamation, but she knew he was probably right.
Then Reming got an idea. "I've got an idea," he said. "Donna, all stop. Right now! Emergency stop!"
With the reflexes of a cat, Reed hit the switch causing the Condor to grind to a sudden halt. The ship lurched violently forward. Reming had to struggle, quite embarrassingly, to keep from falling from his seat.
Outside the ship, the eight tiny pursuers did not anticipate the action of their prey. After flying effortlessly past the Condor, each labored to change their course. Four of them managed to collide with one another in the process. Beautiful red plums erupted around each ship seconds after the pilots ejected. The remaining four had darted off in queer directions far from the Condor. They tried to regroup, but it was too late. The wormhole had already swallowed the Condor in one large gulp.
Inside the Condor, the bridge was aglow in a cool blue haze, reflecting the light projected from the view screen. It was the embryonic shimmer of the wormhole. They were inside it, traveling at immeasurable speeds.
Reming sat back and let out the deep breath he had been holding. "As soon as we're on the other side, head for Borg country."
***
Continue to Borg Like Me, part deux.