| SEASON SIX |
| Stardate 78429.6 |
| More than a year has passed since the end of the Elorg War, and peace has at long last returned to the United Federation of Planets. Peace came at a hefty price. A great many worlds were shattered in the war's twilight hours. Hundreds of thousands of lives were sacrificed in the name of freedom... But the journey's end not truly the end. It is, in fact,another beginning... |
Once long ago, the Ildius Nebula was little more than an insignificant
cloud of reddish dust in the heart of the Romulan Star Empire. It
possessed no strategic value, no scientific curiosities—even its
aesthetic qualities were seriously lacking. The nebula subsequently
went untouched for hundreds of years. And then came the Garidians.
For a great many years, the Garidians were staunch allies of the
Empire. They provided the Romulans with troops and access to natural
resources within their borders; in turn, the Romulans provided ships
and technology. It was a prosperous union, one that lasted many
decades and culminated in the absorption of the Garidian Republic into
the Empire.
It was a union that lasted only as long as it remained useful to the
Garidians. When the Romulan Empire began to capitulate, the
Garidians’ access to new ships and technology came to a rather abrupt
end. Unwilling descend into chaos alongside the Romulans, the
Garidians sought new, more powerful allies—and they ultimately found
the Elorg Bloc. In the blink of an eye, the Garidians were catapulted to
the forefront of galactic affairs—and they fell just as quickly when the
Elorg were ultimately defeated. Battered and beaten, the Garidians
had no choice but retreat to their former territories…
The Romulans were readily awaiting the return of their former allies.
And the Ildius Nebula, which for so long had been an insignificant cloud
of crimson dust, was suddenly a highly strategic area of space less than
a light year from the Garidian border.
Subcommander Kalas watched intently as three tiny Garidian craft
decloaked on the viewscreen. They powered their weapons and swiftly
assumed an attack formation. Kalas sighed. “A people should know
when they’re defeated…”
cloud of reddish dust in the heart of the Romulan Star Empire. It
possessed no strategic value, no scientific curiosities—even its
aesthetic qualities were seriously lacking. The nebula subsequently
went untouched for hundreds of years. And then came the Garidians.
For a great many years, the Garidians were staunch allies of the
Empire. They provided the Romulans with troops and access to natural
resources within their borders; in turn, the Romulans provided ships
and technology. It was a prosperous union, one that lasted many
decades and culminated in the absorption of the Garidian Republic into
the Empire.
It was a union that lasted only as long as it remained useful to the
Garidians. When the Romulan Empire began to capitulate, the
Garidians’ access to new ships and technology came to a rather abrupt
end. Unwilling descend into chaos alongside the Romulans, the
Garidians sought new, more powerful allies—and they ultimately found
the Elorg Bloc. In the blink of an eye, the Garidians were catapulted to
the forefront of galactic affairs—and they fell just as quickly when the
Elorg were ultimately defeated. Battered and beaten, the Garidians
had no choice but retreat to their former territories…
The Romulans were readily awaiting the return of their former allies.
And the Ildius Nebula, which for so long had been an insignificant cloud
of crimson dust, was suddenly a highly strategic area of space less than
a light year from the Garidian border.
Subcommander Kalas watched intently as three tiny Garidian craft
decloaked on the viewscreen. They powered their weapons and swiftly
assumed an attack formation. Kalas sighed. “A people should know
when they’re defeated…”
| LINGERING THREATS... |
“Report.” Captain Erin Keller strode onto the Majestic’s bridge,
butterflies already fluttering in her stomach.
Cadet Za’lon glanced back from the operations console. “An alien
vessel is approaching,” he said before relinquishing the station to
Ensign McKenzie.
“The ship is of unknown origin,” added Courtney Rose a scant moment
later.
“It’s on a direct intercept course,” said Drayge as he took his position
at McKenzie’s side. “Bearing one-one-seven mark four.”
It didn’t seem like anything too terrible, but Keller wasn’t about to let
her guard down because things seemed okay. “Hail them.”
Lieutenant Rose tapped a few quick commands into her console, but
the result was not encouraging. The computer emitted a few shrill
bleeps before Rose shook her head and said, “No response.”
On the viewscreen, the shadowy dagger-shaped outline of the
approaching vessel appeared in the nebula’s azure murk. Keller peered
into the nebula a while longer, but knew that no amount of squinting
would get her the answers she desired. She glanced back at Courtney
Rose. “What can you tell me?”
Deft fingers dancing over the tactical station, Lieutenant Rose quickly
pieced together a profile of the alien ship. “The ship appears to be
armed with multiphasic polaron-based weapons and has a considerable
compliment of plasma torpedoes. It’s also twice our size with a
comparable shield grid
butterflies already fluttering in her stomach.
Cadet Za’lon glanced back from the operations console. “An alien
vessel is approaching,” he said before relinquishing the station to
Ensign McKenzie.
“The ship is of unknown origin,” added Courtney Rose a scant moment
later.
“It’s on a direct intercept course,” said Drayge as he took his position
at McKenzie’s side. “Bearing one-one-seven mark four.”
It didn’t seem like anything too terrible, but Keller wasn’t about to let
her guard down because things seemed okay. “Hail them.”
Lieutenant Rose tapped a few quick commands into her console, but
the result was not encouraging. The computer emitted a few shrill
bleeps before Rose shook her head and said, “No response.”
On the viewscreen, the shadowy dagger-shaped outline of the
approaching vessel appeared in the nebula’s azure murk. Keller peered
into the nebula a while longer, but knew that no amount of squinting
would get her the answers she desired. She glanced back at Courtney
Rose. “What can you tell me?”
Deft fingers dancing over the tactical station, Lieutenant Rose quickly
pieced together a profile of the alien ship. “The ship appears to be
armed with multiphasic polaron-based weapons and has a considerable
compliment of plasma torpedoes. It’s also twice our size with a
comparable shield grid
Keller exchanged a curious glance with Lucas Tompkins. He bristled in his seat for a
moment before deciding, “We could take them if we had to. It might not be pretty…”
The Majestic was not much of a battleship, but it was easily more maneuverable than
the looming alien craft. There was a possibility that sole advantage could prove vital,
but Keller was not eager to find out. “Back us off, Neelar.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Drayge keyed a few commands into his console and moments later, the
Majestic set into motion. A few moments after that, the alien vessel followed suit,
shadowing their every maneuver.
Tompkins clenched his fists. “Damn.”
“They could be assessing our threat level,” suggested Doctor Shibata. He stood very
near Courtney Rose at the tactical station just behind Keller’s seat.
“They could very well be doing that,” Rose agreed.
“So how do we convince them that we are not a threat?” asked Za’lon. After vacating
ops, he assumed one of the vacant science stations in the aft
section of the bridge.
“Hail them again,” said Keller. “Open a channel on all frequencies—if they don’t want
to talk to us, at the very least they can listen.”
Courtney Rose again entered the necessary commands into the computer. “Channel
open.”
Keller had made contact with four new species since the Majestic’s launch. All of
them were friendly and open to the notion of a civilized conversation—so this little
exchange marked her first stern-but-friendly overture to a potentially hostile alien
race. It was a daunting task, but Keller had seen it done before. She knew what to
do. “This is Captain Erin Keller of the Federation Starship Majestic. We are—”
A flash of greenish light suddenly streaked across the viewscreen. It struck the shield
grid with little fanfare and then dissipated without incident.
The tactical station chirped. “The aliens have severed the com channel,” said Rose a
moment later.
Keller bit her lip. “Must have been something I said,” she mused.
Moments later, a second flash of light streaked across the viewscreen—only this time
the blast was crackling with tendrils of yellowish energy. It slammed into the shields
with enough force to jolt the entire ship. The lights flickered briefly, and when they
returned, the red alert sirens came with them.
“Direct hit!” said Rose. “No damage, but shields are down to fifty-three percent!”
One more hit would leave the Majestic in a very unfortunate position. Keller knew
they had to retreat, but not before showing some teeth—if they were going to leave,
they were going to leave a lasting impression at the same time. “Return fire,” she
said, “and then get us the hell out of here!”
moment before deciding, “We could take them if we had to. It might not be pretty…”
The Majestic was not much of a battleship, but it was easily more maneuverable than
the looming alien craft. There was a possibility that sole advantage could prove vital,
but Keller was not eager to find out. “Back us off, Neelar.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Drayge keyed a few commands into his console and moments later, the
Majestic set into motion. A few moments after that, the alien vessel followed suit,
shadowing their every maneuver.
Tompkins clenched his fists. “Damn.”
“They could be assessing our threat level,” suggested Doctor Shibata. He stood very
near Courtney Rose at the tactical station just behind Keller’s seat.
“They could very well be doing that,” Rose agreed.
“So how do we convince them that we are not a threat?” asked Za’lon. After vacating
ops, he assumed one of the vacant science stations in the aft
section of the bridge.
“Hail them again,” said Keller. “Open a channel on all frequencies—if they don’t want
to talk to us, at the very least they can listen.”
Courtney Rose again entered the necessary commands into the computer. “Channel
open.”
Keller had made contact with four new species since the Majestic’s launch. All of
them were friendly and open to the notion of a civilized conversation—so this little
exchange marked her first stern-but-friendly overture to a potentially hostile alien
race. It was a daunting task, but Keller had seen it done before. She knew what to
do. “This is Captain Erin Keller of the Federation Starship Majestic. We are—”
A flash of greenish light suddenly streaked across the viewscreen. It struck the shield
grid with little fanfare and then dissipated without incident.
The tactical station chirped. “The aliens have severed the com channel,” said Rose a
moment later.
Keller bit her lip. “Must have been something I said,” she mused.
Moments later, a second flash of light streaked across the viewscreen—only this time
the blast was crackling with tendrils of yellowish energy. It slammed into the shields
with enough force to jolt the entire ship. The lights flickered briefly, and when they
returned, the red alert sirens came with them.
“Direct hit!” said Rose. “No damage, but shields are down to fifty-three percent!”
One more hit would leave the Majestic in a very unfortunate position. Keller knew
they had to retreat, but not before showing some teeth—if they were going to leave,
they were going to leave a lasting impression at the same time. “Return fire,” she
said, “and then get us the hell out of here!”
| NEW ENEMIES... |
She knew that ignoring Groms wouldn’t make him go away—that tactic had failed miserably the first (and last) time she tried it. Alas, Hartman had little choice but to deal with
him. “You can tell my guests to go away. I’m a little busy here.”
“I’ve already told them,” said Groms. “They won’t leave.”
A weary sigh escaped Hartman’s lips. “If it’s Commander Urquinai checking up on that resequenced protein culture again, I’m going to take his Petri dish and shove it where the
sun doesn’t shine!”
Groms produced a humorless smile. “First, I should again like to remind you that Commander Urquinai doesn’t have such an orifice.” Then his toothy smile faded altogether.
“Second, it’s not Urquinai.”
And then someone chuckled. It certainly wasn’t Groms. The man never laughed. Then again, whenever Hartman was around him, she tended to be yelling at him—a situation
that generally did not favor laughter. And since Groms wasn’t laughing, that meant an unauthorized third party had entered her lab. Hartman immediately bolted from her chair
and came about, quite eager to throw the both of them out…
And then Alan Christopher stepped into the room. “You haven’t changed a bit, Sarah.” He chuckled again. “Well, maybe you’ve gotten a little crankier.”
Though she was still somewhat pissed, her anger was gradually making the transition to complete and total surprise. “Alan… What the hell are you doing here?”
He flashed a wide grin. “Miss me?”
“No,” she replied without hesitation. The sentiment wasn’t entirely truthful, but Hartman was not eager to feed Alan Christopher’s ego. Thus, she smoothly transitioned the
conversation in a direction that would satisfy her blossoming curiosity. “So, what brings you to the Junon System?”
“A huge ion storm in the Revada Sector.”
“That’s thirty-three light years away!”
Christopher arched his brow. “I said it was a huge ion storm!” He crept closer. “And it’s actually thirty-eight light years away.”
Hartman shrugged. “I’m a doctor, not a cartographer.”
“Thankfully.” Christopher hadn’t changed much at all since the last time Hartman saw him. His hair was a little longer and he hadn’t shaved in a few days, but he was otherwise
unchanged.
Sensing that she might not get too much done the next couple of hours, Hartman briefly turned back to her computer terminal. A few quick keystrokes saved her work and
cleared it from the screen, leaving Hartman free to pursue something else. Her attention started to drift back toward Christopher—but about halfway there, Hartman glimpsed
Nils Groms still standing nearby. She sighed. “I can handle this,” she said as she directed him toward the exit.
Groms started to say something, but Hartman quickly raised a dismissive hand. “Really,” she said, planting that hand upon Groms’ chest and shoving him out the door, “I can
handle this.”
The doors summarily slid shut.
A wry grin befell Christopher’s face. “You know what they say about paybacks…”
“It’s a bitch.” Hartman shrugged. “So am I.” She collected the few stray padds sitting atop the nearest computer console and neatly stacked them into a single pile. “So,
where’s Justin?”
“Still on the ship,” replied Christopher. “Civilians aren’t typically granted permission to come aboard Cold Station Theta. Not a very popular tourist spot, I suppose.”
Hartman had spent the better part of two years aboard Cold Station Theta and Alan Christopher was the first unscheduled visitor she had seen. “We get new supplies twice a
month. That’s about it.”
“So you must be having a blast out here,” Christopher surmised. “No visitors to annoy you. No missions to divert your attention away from research. No Elorg to destroy your
lab. Starfleet probably even leaves you alone.”
“It is nice,” Hartman admitted.
“Well, I’m sorry I had to disturb you,” mused Christopher.
“I’ll live with it.”
“Well, if you don’t mind staying disturbed for a while, Justin wouldn’t mind seeing you…”
The feeling was mutual. “Why don’t we have dinner tonight?” Hartman suggested. “I’ll get him clearance to come aboard. You can throw together one of your famous meals…
I’ll prepare the antacids. It’ll be great.”
Christopher clasped his hands together. “Then it’s a date!”
Doctor Sarah Hartman brooded over her computer terminal, utterly
perplexed by the microscopic organisms flittering about the Petri dish
under the microscope nearby. For the past six weeks, she had been
growing cell cultures that were supposed to be immune to Zudurian
Scourge. Unfortunately, they mutated into something else entirely,
and Hartman wasn’t yet sure what to make of it.
Hartman had planned on taking the day off tomorrow—her first day off
in more than month. But in light of the sudden mutation, she decided
against it. It could take her days to figure out exactly what happened,
and even longer than that to determine if the unexpected mutation
had any benefits to the world of medicine. A day off was a luxury she
simply could not afford… Then again, Hartman wasn’t exactly itching
for time off. In fact, the only thing she really wanted was a mute
button for her many assistants.
“Doctor.” Nils Groms was a competent scientist. In fact, he was
instrumental in the development of the new treatment for Irumodic
Syndrome. Unfortunately, he was a bit of a windbag, and as he
stepped into Hartman’s lab, her mood immediately soured.
“What?”
Groms strode right up to Hartman’s computer terminal. He was a little
man, balding and bearded, with beady little eyes set beneath a pair of
tribble-sized eyebrows. “Sorry to interrupt, Doctor, but you have
guests waiting for you on Level Seven.” His voice was also extremely
grating, a feature that only worsened Hartman’s mood.
perplexed by the microscopic organisms flittering about the Petri dish
under the microscope nearby. For the past six weeks, she had been
growing cell cultures that were supposed to be immune to Zudurian
Scourge. Unfortunately, they mutated into something else entirely,
and Hartman wasn’t yet sure what to make of it.
Hartman had planned on taking the day off tomorrow—her first day off
in more than month. But in light of the sudden mutation, she decided
against it. It could take her days to figure out exactly what happened,
and even longer than that to determine if the unexpected mutation
had any benefits to the world of medicine. A day off was a luxury she
simply could not afford… Then again, Hartman wasn’t exactly itching
for time off. In fact, the only thing she really wanted was a mute
button for her many assistants.
“Doctor.” Nils Groms was a competent scientist. In fact, he was
instrumental in the development of the new treatment for Irumodic
Syndrome. Unfortunately, he was a bit of a windbag, and as he
stepped into Hartman’s lab, her mood immediately soured.
“What?”
Groms strode right up to Hartman’s computer terminal. He was a little
man, balding and bearded, with beady little eyes set beneath a pair of
tribble-sized eyebrows. “Sorry to interrupt, Doctor, but you have
guests waiting for you on Level Seven.” His voice was also extremely
grating, a feature that only worsened Hartman’s mood.
| OLD FRIENDS... |
“…we were able to visit the ancient Chodak ruins on Trianius II. There was… one pillar, and maybe six or seven bricks on the ground.” Christopher grabbed a slice of pizza. “The
ruins on Cecius IV were much more interesting.”
“We got arrested,” Justin interjected.
And Christopher was forced to concur. “Apparently, we weren’t supposed to see the ruins on Cecius IV—but all was forgiven…”
“…after three weeks in a Romulan prison,” Justin continued. He polished off his first piece of pizza and immediately went on to number two.
And a wry smile befell Sarah Hartman’s face. “You guys were in prison?”
Alan dismissed the notion with a flick of his wrist. “It’s hardly worth mentioning.”
“Does Erin know?”
“As I said… it’s hardly worth mentioning.” He bit into his pizza and tore off a good-sized chunk—which he proceeded to chew until the topic finally changed.
“We found PX-93807,” Justin noted.
“The teeny-tiny planet,” Christopher readily recalled.
“I was taller than most of the trees,” added Justin. “It was pretty cool.”
It sounded fascinating, but Sarah’s response didn’t get past her lips. Instead, a sensor alert penetrated the air. “This is a first,” mused Hartman. She tapped her communicator.
“Command and Control—this is Hartman. Report.”
“We’re receiving a distress signal.” The voice was female, and seemed rather young—but Hartman had no idea who it was. Nor did she care.
“Who is sending the signal?” asked Christopher a scant moment later.
“Unknown,” said the equally unknown officer. “It’s a generic, automated distress signal—audio only. A vessel requires assistance in the Athkor System.”
“Athkor System?” Christopher had never heard of it.
The female officer was silent for a moment, no doubt to check up on the Athkor System. “It’s twenty-two light years away,” she soon replied. “Just inside Romulan space. The
Ajax is in range of the Athkor System, however, they are on a priority one mission to Batares.”
Christopher’s gaze immediately fell upon Hartman. “We can check it out,” he decided. “But have the Ajax on standby, just it case this turns out to be something more than we
can handle.”
“Yes, sir! I’ll clear you for departure immediately.” And on that note, the nameless female officer signed off.
Christopher was already headed for the exit, and Justin followed close behind, pizza in hand. Hartman, however, remained firmly planted in her seat. Christopher frowned. “Up
for a little adventure?”
“No.” Hartman's rejection turned out to be rather correct... because this adventure was anything but little...
ruins on Cecius IV were much more interesting.”
“We got arrested,” Justin interjected.
And Christopher was forced to concur. “Apparently, we weren’t supposed to see the ruins on Cecius IV—but all was forgiven…”
“…after three weeks in a Romulan prison,” Justin continued. He polished off his first piece of pizza and immediately went on to number two.
And a wry smile befell Sarah Hartman’s face. “You guys were in prison?”
Alan dismissed the notion with a flick of his wrist. “It’s hardly worth mentioning.”
“Does Erin know?”
“As I said… it’s hardly worth mentioning.” He bit into his pizza and tore off a good-sized chunk—which he proceeded to chew until the topic finally changed.
“We found PX-93807,” Justin noted.
“The teeny-tiny planet,” Christopher readily recalled.
“I was taller than most of the trees,” added Justin. “It was pretty cool.”
It sounded fascinating, but Sarah’s response didn’t get past her lips. Instead, a sensor alert penetrated the air. “This is a first,” mused Hartman. She tapped her communicator.
“Command and Control—this is Hartman. Report.”
“We’re receiving a distress signal.” The voice was female, and seemed rather young—but Hartman had no idea who it was. Nor did she care.
“Who is sending the signal?” asked Christopher a scant moment later.
“Unknown,” said the equally unknown officer. “It’s a generic, automated distress signal—audio only. A vessel requires assistance in the Athkor System.”
“Athkor System?” Christopher had never heard of it.
The female officer was silent for a moment, no doubt to check up on the Athkor System. “It’s twenty-two light years away,” she soon replied. “Just inside Romulan space. The
Ajax is in range of the Athkor System, however, they are on a priority one mission to Batares.”
Christopher’s gaze immediately fell upon Hartman. “We can check it out,” he decided. “But have the Ajax on standby, just it case this turns out to be something more than we
can handle.”
“Yes, sir! I’ll clear you for departure immediately.” And on that note, the nameless female officer signed off.
Christopher was already headed for the exit, and Justin followed close behind, pizza in hand. Hartman, however, remained firmly planted in her seat. Christopher frowned. “Up
for a little adventure?”
“No.” Hartman's rejection turned out to be rather correct... because this adventure was anything but little...
Season Six of The Final Frontier is at
hand! So far, I'm only planning on doing
six episodes, but if these six do well
enough, I may be convinced to do more.
121. "Advent" - 9/23/08
122. "Safe Harbor" - 10/08
123. "Collision Course" - 10/08
124. "Xedunar" - 11/08
125. "Demon Siege" - 11/08
126. "Last Hope" - 12/08
127. ??
128. ??
129. ??
hand! So far, I'm only planning on doing
six episodes, but if these six do well
enough, I may be convinced to do more.
121. "Advent" - 9/23/08
122. "Safe Harbor" - 10/08
123. "Collision Course" - 10/08
124. "Xedunar" - 11/08
125. "Demon Siege" - 11/08
126. "Last Hope" - 12/08
127. ??
128. ??
129. ??