A real teenage girl beams up to the Enterprise! MERCY!
Frank was just a normal guy living a normal life. That's until he "dreams" into existence a real USS ENTERPRISE. To be more specific; a fully functional USS ENTERPRISE. Now he must fight governments, including America, to keep this wonder of the scifi world out of the wrong hands!!!
Original Series Characters:
Action/Adventure, Family, Fantasy, Friendship, HumorWarnings:
17 Feb 2013 Updated:
14 Jun 2013
1. Insane in the Membrane by RobertScorpio
2. Rebound by RobertScorpio
3. Options by RobertScorpio
4. Brownie Crime by RobertScorpio
5. Target One by RobertScorpio
6. Weed Flux by RobertScorpio
7. Station Down by RobertScorpio
8. Prepare; for Battle! by RobertScorpio
9. Miracle by RobertScorpio
10. A Force for Good by RobertScorpio
11. Hero Worship by RobertScorpio
12. Raise the Curtain by RobertScorpio
Insane in the Membrane by RobertScorpio
Jennifer Grayson opened up the refrigerator and took out the half empty carton of milk from the top shelf. She also reached in and took out the tub of margarine that sat next to the milk. She closed the door and walked over to the kitchen table where her two kids were sitting.
Austin was her oldest child, and he was sixteen years old. He was a good kid, but like his father, Frank, he was head strong. Austin had already been in three fights this year at school year, and it was only mid January. But Austin had a hero complex, again, just like his father. He would always defend those who couldn't defend themselves which was the only reason keeping him from being expelled. All three fights were against the school bully who had nothing better to do than to make fun of the handicapped children than attended the school right next to her son' school.
Jennifer's other child was Amber. She was fourteen years old, and already she held the world in her hand; an Iphone. They had caved into her demands to have text messaging, and that meant every hour of the day, when she was not at school, was spent glued to that cellphone and its text messaging, games, Facebook connection; the whole nine yards.
It was nearly 5:30pm and that meant that Frank would be coming through the front door at any moment. Tonight she had made his favorite meal; Tostadas. Frank had recently been on a Tostada kick, which was alright with Jennifer, since they were easy to make.
Moments later, just like clockwork, Frank came through the front door. He placed his wallet and keys on the small counter near the door. Jennifer really loved her husband's rugged nature, the free spirit that came through his personality. And, it didn't hurt that he looked like a cross between Brad Pitt and Nicholas Cage.
Jennifer walked over to the front door area to greet Frank. He was hanging up his jacket in the closet that was situated right next to the front door.
"Hello honey." She said to him.
He turned to her and took her into his arms. He kissed her on the lips, while letting his hand slide down to her shapely rear end, which was couched in a nice pair of faded blue jeans. She stopped his hand's approach and raised it back up to her back.
"Honey, the kids are watching." She whispered.
Frank looked past her at the kitchen and saw the two kids. Austin was busy pouring a glass of soda, but Amber was watching and giggling.
"Damn," Frank said with a whisper. "You're lucky, because one day I am going to come through that door and the kids are not going to be looking and then nothing is going to stop my hand from, well…who know what."
She gave him a coy smile. "I can only dream." She said as she winked at him.
They both walked into their modest kitchen, sat down, and began to eat dinner with the kids. As they did, the TV on the kitchen counter was on. An episode of the Simpsons was entertaining the kids as Frank and Jennifer spoke.
"How was work?" She asked as she placed another Tostada on Frank's plate.
Frank shook his head. "They let Mr. Wilkes go today. He has been working on the line for fifteen years, and just like that, they let him go."
She shook her head. "That's too bad, I remember him from the company picnic. He seemed like a nice man."
Frank nodded. "He was. This economy has to start turning around, or I may even be on the chopping block."
Jennifer sipped from her glass of wine. "You just make sure you're the only one who can do what you do and you'll be fine."
He kissed her, and let his eyes wander down to the top part of her cleavage, which was like a beacon, calling to his eyes. She put her fingers on his chin, and raised his gaze back to hers.
"Sorry honey," she said, "it's that time of the month." She said with a whisper.
The kids had already moved into the living room and were still watching the Simpsons, but on the larger livingroom TV. Frank helped Jennifer by clearing the table and helping her do the dishes.
"We have kids for this." Frank said as he handed her another washed plate.
"I know we do." She said to him. "But Tuesday night is our night to do dishes." She added.
"Well," Frank added, "I thought by having two kids we would also get to enjoy the luxury of forced labor on them."
"Oh, by the way," Jennifer said to him, "Austin got into another fight today."
"Who was it with this time?" Frank asked.
"It was with that same boy again. That bully was picking on a boy who had Parkinson's disease. Austin got into it with that bully, and then they got into a fight. From what I hear though," Jennifer said with a brief smile, "Austin kicked his ass today."
"We have to change this behavior of his, Jen." Frank said to her as he scrubbed out a cup of dried chocolate milk. "He needs to grow up."
"This is coming from the man who beat up my ex-boyfriend in the twelfth grade because you wanted to date me?" She said with a slight laugh.
Frank stopped for a second. "Well, that isn't the point." Frank said.
She stopped drying the dishes and put her arms around his neck. "He is a lot like you Frank. If one else would have saved that unfortunate kid, then who would have? Our son is going to make some girl happy someday because he is so compassionate."
He leaned in and kissed her. "Well, I will have a talk with him."
She turned back to the dishes. "You might want to ask about the joint I found in his backpack today."
Frank stood back, "Ummm… the what?"
She looked to him with a wry smile. "Hey, don't you get all huffy with him. If I recall you were 13 when your dad caught..."
He cut her off. "Look, we have to start dealing with him like he was an adult. Just because I was some wild hell bent kid, doesn't mean he needs to be."
"But that was your charm back then, and it's his now." She replied. "Oh, ground him, I think you should. But go easy on him Frank. As I recall, your dad let you find your own way and you turned out just fine."
"Yeah," Frank said, "but times are different."
Frank would talk with the boy and try to change his ways as best as he could; but not by force. His wife was right; Austin need to fight his own battles, and live with the consequences of his actions.
Later that night it was time for bed at last. The kids were in their rooms, and Frank and Jennifer were in their bad, together. She was on her side facing him as he was on his back. He rolled over on his side to face her. They kissed.
"Things will be okay at your work." She said to him.
He slid his hand up her thigh, only to find that she was wearing panties.
"Oh yeah," Frank said, "that time of month." He said he skipped his hand past their original target and up to her shoulders. They kissed again and prepared to sleep.
Nearly two hours later Frank was in a deep sleep. In his mind he was aboard the USS ENTERPRISE. He could see Kirk and Spock, on the bridge, the Enterprise being attacked by a Romulan ship. Kirk turned to the helmsman, but it wasn't Sulu. It was him; Frank Grayson.
"Fire the phasers!" Kirk demanded of his new helmsman.
Meanwhile, as Frank slept, storm clouds had gathered over the city of San Diego, where Frank and his family lived. It was one of those summer storms than came up through the Mexican desert and swooped in tons of moisture, and thunder storms, into the San Diego area. The lightning flared across San Diego County, while waking many, but not all. Frank, who had lived back in Texas in his youth, was used to far worse storm activity. He slept through the entire storm; peacefully and why not; he was board the famed Star Trek ship for most of the night, in his dreams.
And then it happened; the clouds gave off a strange pulse of energy. It wasn't lightning, it was something else…and it swept over the city below. And as it turned out; it wasn't some stray lightning bolt, or anything like that; it was man made!
Due to the storm activity during the night, the power had gone out. Frank woke up late and had little time to get ready for work. He threw on some clothes, and woke Jennifer so she could get the kids up and ready for school. Moments later, after putting on his jacket, he reached for his wallet, keys, and something else he didn't recognize, but took it anyway because it was probably his anyway.
He zipped out to the garage, got into his pure black 2011 mustang and headed off to work.
Twenty minutes later, the black Mustang that Frank drove was stuck in stop and go traffic due to a car wreck somewhere up ahead. He turned up the volume of his stereo, and listened to the radio. Some group called the Bravery was blaring away. He had never heard of them before, but liked the sound. As he got older he found himself being more open to his wife's crazy music tastes, The Carpenters-Air Supply-heck, even Barry Manilow. But when he was alone in the car; it was ROCK!
As he sat, bored, in his car, Frank slid his hands into the right front pocket of his jacket. Expecting to find his wallet, he found something else. He pulled it out. It looked his cellphone for second, but looking closer he could see it wasn't. It was a toy the thought because it looked just like a communicator from the old Star Trek show. He knew it couldn't be his son's because, first off, he was too old for toys, and second, his son was a big Star Wars fan and hated Star Trek. So whom did it belong to?
With nothing but time to kill, and traffic to endure, he flipped open the communicator and, like any man his age would, said those immortal words. "Kirk… to Enterprise." He even used Shatner's staccato way of speaking.
He smiled at himself, and then looked over to his right. Several teenagers, on their way to school, were in the car next to his. Two of the teenage girls saw him, holding the communicator, and laughed.
Feeling embarrassed, Frank prepared to put the toy into his glove box when suddenly a red light on the communicator toy started flashing. He looked at it brought it closer so he could see the blinking light. He reached up with his index finger and pressed the red flashing button.
"Huh," he said as he prepared to put it into the glove box. Suddenly he started feeling funny, and his stomach began to churn wildly inside. He felt dizzy, and then…..he was transported away. His car was instantly empty.
STAR TREK: FRANK GRAYSON
Kiefer Sutherland as Frank Grayson
Jeff Bridges as General Drake Morton
Mark Valley as Major Irv Wilson
Will Smith as Lt. Leonard Jackson
Joshua Jackson as Austin Grayson
Evangeline Lilly as Jennifer Grayson
Frank lost all sense of reality as he fell to the ground, and he landed square on his ass. He shook his head, and blinked his eyes as he struggled to stand up. He was frozen stone cold at what he saw.
He was no longer in his kick ass car. He was standing in what appeared to be, as crazy as it seemed, on the Transporter pad from Star Trek. Frank had watched the show off and on since he was a kid; in fact he had just watched an episode a few nights earlier on Netflix.
Frank realized what was going on, as he stood there; he was dreaming. That had to be it. So, if it was a dream, then why not go with it. But if he was dreaming, was the traffic jam a dream too? He must have dreamed about the morning as well.
With nothing else to do Frank stepped off of the transporter pad. He was really amazed at the detail of the dream. But where was Scotty, or that other guy, who was always running the transporter. It was the guy who got karate chopped by Khan and McCoy practically in back to back episodes. Kyle! That was his name. Where was Kyle?
Frank walked around the controls and stared at them. The control pad was pretty hokey, considering how far technology had come from 1960s depictions of the future. Two words were flashing on the monitor; Emergency Transport.
Frank wondered what that meant.
"Well," Frank said to himself out loud. "Might as well see how detailed this dream can really get."
He walked toward the door and, sure enough, it swished open, sound effect and all. The corridor was as bare as could be. There was no one walking through them. He frowned at that. Usually there were hot chicks walking around in those old style uniforms that showed a lot of legs, and nice cleavage too, on the women. Heck, it was his dream, why not? But there was no such luck.
He wandered down the corridors. Taking a moment, he even stepped into one of the rooms. It was just how the quarters looked on the show, there was even a small plate of yellow cubes. He remembered seeing them on one of the episodes. They were some kind of food, as he recalled. He picked one of them up and nibbled at it. He smiled.
"Mmmmm," he said to himself, "these are good."
He took a sip from the cup of water that was next to the plate of food, and then left the room to continue his exploration of the ship.
Down the corridor he came up to one of the Turbolifts.
"This should be fun." He said with a smile as he stepped inside. He looked around and then he said; "bridge."
Nothing happened. Then he remembered Obrien and Bashir having the same problem on DS9. He had to admit, he was a dork for even remembering that episode. He tried to keep his inner-dork from his family. But he suspected they all knew.
He tried again, but this time he placed his hand on the control device that operated the transporter. And once again he said; "bridge".
Instantly the Turbolift jolted into movement. He turned to watch the light thingy spin as it did on the show.
"This is so damn amazing." He said to himself with a laugh.
Then, it stopped, and the door swooshed open, and there it was in all of its glory; the bridge of the Enterprise! He stepped out of the Turbolift and onto the bridge. Just as with the rest of the ship, no one else was there. He looked at the various stations. There was no Uhura, no Sulu, no Chekov, no Spock; and the chair, no not the chair, THE chair, was empty. There was no Captain Kirk either.
"This is really something." He said to himself, still not believing any of it. "I hope this isn't some residual shit from when I tried LSD."
It was something he did when he was in college, and wasn't proud of it, and never told anyone in his life now; including his wife.
He walked around the rim of the bridge. The view screen showed Earth, in all of its splendid beauty, below. Frank could only stand in awe of the whole situation. It all seemed so real.
Finally, he built up the nerve. He stepped down into the center of the bridge and approached the chair. He even looked to make sure there were no tribbles on the seat. And, like any Trekker, he reveled in the feeling of sitting down in, perhaps, the most famous fictional seat of all time. It was surprisingly comfortable.
"This is heaven." He said out loud. "This is absolutely heaven."
Then he had a thought; what of this wasn't a dream. What if, in fact, he was dead? Could this really be his mind's interpretation of heaven? He stood up at that thought. Even though it was fun to be here, he had to wake up.
"Wake up!" He yelled to himself. "WAKE UP!"
He didn't wake up. He was either so far asleep he couldn't wake up, or he was really dead and all of this was the afterlife. What was going on? Why couldn't he wake up?
Meanwhile, at that moment, deep inside the NORAD complex deep inside the Colorado Rockies.
General Drake Morton sat in his office and listened to his duty officer. Morton was chewing on a cigar as Major Irv Wilson repeated giving the most incredible report.
Gen Morton looked up at Maj. Wilson with utter disbelief in his expression.
"What the hell did you just say, in English this time!?" Morton demanded.
Wilson cleared his throat. "An unidentified object is in orbit of this planet." Wilson" said, in a matter of fact tone. "And," he added, "It appears to be the USS Enterprise."
Morton slammed his hands down on his desk. "Would you mind telling me what kind drugs you are doing Major Wilson!" Morton demanded. "Do you take me for some kind of fool? If the Navy had some kind of top secret technology that allowed their carriers to fly; I WOULD KNOW ABOUT It: God dammit!"
Wilson shook his head. "Sir, it isn't the Air Craft Carrier USS Enterprise!" Wilson fired back.
Morton took a deep drag on his cigar. "Then what the hell are you talking about?" Morton demanded again. "That idiotic Star Wars movie crap?"
"Star Trek." Wilson corrected him.
"What?" Morton screamed back.
"Sir," Wilson said, "Star Trek. You know, Captain Kirk?"
Morton picked up the large dictionary that he kept on his desk, he would randomly turn to a page, find a word he didn't know, and read it out loud fifty times, and threw the book against his wall.
Gen. Morton pointed at the Major. "Is this some kind of joke? It's my birthday next week, and you're trying to make me look like fool, aren't you? I have told you before, Colonial, I don't care for surprise parties and or screwing around on the job!"
Maj. Wilson shook his head. "No sir." Wilson said softly. "Come see for yourself. We have it on one of the satellites."
Gen. Morton followed Maj. Wilson into the main command center. Wilson pointed at the middle screen. A small white blip could be seen.
"What the hell is that?" Morton asked. "Hell; that could be one of our own satellites."
"Magnify image Lt. Jackson." Wilson said to one of the men who sat at one of the control stations.
The image magnified to show the pristine image of the USS Enterprise.
"Isn't it cool sir?" Lt. Jackson asked.
Morton didn't share Jackson's enthusiasm.
"No, it isn't." Gen. Morton replied. "Obviously someone, somewhere, has hacked up the feeds and we are being toyed with. Instead of being stupid," Morton said to Wilson, "perhaps you should all be trying to find out who the hell is accessing my post?"
Wilson interjected. "Yes sir," he said to Morton, "but we have already tripled checked our systems and feeds. And according to the tactical radar, there is something there in that exact position."
Morton turned to face his Major, his cigar only inches from the other man's face. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?" Morton demanded.
Maj. Wilson nodded his head. "Yes I do sir", he smiled and then said, "The Federation starship Enterprise is orbiting Earth."
Morton turned back to face the image of the legendary fictional spaceship. He then made a stunning announcement. "Maj. Wilson, please take us to Defcon-3."
Wilson was as shocked as the men around him. "Sir," Wilson said to the General, "if we go to the Defcon-4, then the Russians and Chinese will notice our increased readiness level as well."
Gen. Morton nodded in agreement. "I know that mister." Morton said. "But if we can see this thing, then so can they. Just follow your orders Maj. Wilson."
Morton turned, went back into his office, and slammed the door; there were calls to make.
He picked up the dictionary from the floor, and threw it again; but this time it rebounded off the all, and onto his desk, where it knocked over his cup of coffee.
TO BE CONTINUED
STAR TREK: FRANK GRAYSON
Kiefer Sutherland as Frank Grayson
Jeff Bridges as General Drake Morton
Mark Valley as Major Irv Wilson
Will Smith as Lt. Leonard Jackson
USS ENTERPRISE in orbit of Earth...REAL EARTH!
Frank Grayson, sitting in Captain Kirk's command chair, did what only a sane person could; he contemplated. He had to now accept the fact that he was either dead, or, this was real and wasn't a dream. The detail of the events, and the fluidity, were too detailed to be that of a dream. So, reluctantly, he decided to proceed as if it were real, because he didn't want to believe he was dead. Who would?
He had watched Star Trek through-out his life. He didn't consider himself a diehard fan, but maybe he was more of a fan than he thought. In fact, as he recalled, he had just dreamt about the show the night before this all started. Perhaps that had something to do with what was going on. But, there was no time to consider the "how"; he had to deal with more important things at the moment.
Frank racked his mind, trying to recall any information from the show that could help him now. He remembered that in a couple episodes, or so, people reading technical manuals. Perhaps he could find a few of them and see if he could understand them. He also remembered that whenever the ship had time traveled there was always concern from Kirk, and Spock, about being detected by NASA or some other military outfit. That possibility started to worry Frank.
The technology of real Earth, circa 2013, was far more advanced than that of the 1960s. Frank had been up on the ship for nearly an hour, and who knows how long the ship had been here before that. Was it possible that the ship had already been detected?
He also recalled several episodes where Kirk conversed with the computer, usually the voice of a woman. And it always seemed to happen over by Spock's station. He stood up from Kirk's chair and walked over to Spock's station. He closed his eyes and tried to recall what buttons were pressed to make the ships computer operate. He reached out and pressed one. He sat down on Spock's chair.
"Computer?" Frank asked, feeling rather silly as he did.
And sure enough, it answered back. "Working." It was with the same voice Frank had remembered hearing countless of times before on the show.
"Ummmm," Frank began, not really knowing what to say, "Scan the planet below and tell me if the Enterprise is being scanned?"
"Affirmative." The voice replied after making a couple clicking noises.
"Oh shit," Frank said.
That confirmed Frank's worries. The ship had been detected. And if in fact this was really happening, he knew that not only would this ship be a valuable asset to the United States of America, it would also be a prize to other countries as well. Frank realized right there and then that if all this was really happening, he had to make sure the ship, and its technology, did not fall into the wrong hands. And, he had to admit, he didn't even trust his own government with this kind of technology.
In his dream the night before, Frank remembered it was revolving around a battle with the Romulans. He had just seen one of the episodes recently where Kirk had stolen one of those things that make a ship invisible. He searched his memories trying to remember what they called that device.
"A Cloaking Device!" he said to himself.
"The device is functional and in Engineering." The computer voice suddenly said.
"Turn it on." Frank said to the computer.
"Not able to perform that command. The device must be manually operated." The computer replied.
"How do I do that?" Franks asked softy.
"Insufficient data," was the computer's only reply.
With no other course of action to take, Frank headed toward the turbo-lift. If there was indeed an operational Cloaking Device, Frank would have to activate it. How exactly that would happen, Frank had no idea.
As the Turbo-lift took him to engineering, he relaxed for a moment to think through what had to be done. First off, he couldn't possibly run this ship all by himself. Eventually he would have to get help. Second, he had to contact his wife and let her know what was happening. But he was also worried. If the government found out that he had access to the ship, they might come after him and his family, and then silence him, and even them, to keep it all a secret. Yeah, he had to admit, it all sounded paranoid, but inside he knew something to that affect would happen. Homeland Security, GITMO, heck, maybe he was over reacting. He would have to err on the side of caution, for now.
NORAD COMMAND; DEEP INSIDE THE ROCKIE MOUNTAINS
General Drake Morton sat in his office, waiting for Major Wilson to join him. He looked down to the dictionary on his desk, and randomly opened it to a page. He took out a twenty sided dice from his pocket, rolled it on the desk. It came up fifteen. He counted down to the fifteenth word, ready to learn the new word of the day. The word was erudition. He read the definition. He 'filed' it into the back of his mind. He then closed the book, noting the small indentation on the front. He swore he would never throw the dictionary again; though he doubted he would honor such a promise to himself.
Major Irv Wilson came into the office, along with Lt. Leonard Jackson. General Morton motioned for the two men to take their seats across from him.
"Alright, gentlemen, give me something to work with." Morton said quickly.
Maj. Wilson nodded to the General, and then started. "As per your orders, sir, all personal have been denied permission to leave the compound. All external forms of communication, except those with the Pentagon, have been suspended."
Morton lit a cigar as the Maj. gave his report. "What more can you tell me about our friend up there in space?" Morton asked.
Wilson nodded to Jackson and Jackson spoke.
"General," Jackson said, "we have conducted a complete survey of all feeds and servers. There has been no penetration of our systems. Meanwhile, the ESLIPS-1 tracking radar has confirmed that there is an object in that exact location, in geosynchronous orbit above North America. We are re-deploying a MQFIT high resolution satellite to get a better view of the object. It will be on site in two hours."
General Morton blew out some smoke, away from his two officers, and then he spoke to them. "What I am about to tell you is top secret."
The two officers nodded in acknowledgement.
"I just got off the JIG with the Joint Chiefs." He chewed on the butt of his cigar, and then continued, "They have confirmed, to me, that whatever that thing is up there is, it has surveillance capabilities as well. The Joint Chiefs do not know what, or who, the bogie is scanning down here, but our smartest people are confident that there are people up there initiating the scans."
Lt. Jackson raised his hand, as if in school. Morton looked over to him.
"Lt. Jackson," Morton said, "this isn't some elementary school; so if you have something to say, then just say it."
"Yes sir," Lt. Jackson replied, "But I would remind your sir that if there was a crew up there..."
Morton cut him off. "Mr. Jackson, are you really trying to tell me that you think Captain Kirk and Dr. Spock are up there, right now?
"Mister Spock; sir," Major Irv Wilson corrected him.
Morton looked to Wilson. "Oh Jesus Christ Major Wilson," Morton snapped back. "I'm starting to think you two are candidates for the fucking Army nut farm at White Bluff!"
"I know it sounds crazy sir," Lt. Jackson pressed, "but if for argument sake there was a crew up there, not necessarily Kirk and his crew, but some other crew, they would no doubt scan Earth. It would be standard procedure for a Federation Starship."
Morton started to laugh. "It's a Federation Starship?" he asked, humorously.
"Yes sir," Jackson replied. "The Federation is a consortium of planets that Earth belongs to. The USS Enterprise, and other ships like her, is part of Starfleet Command. It is their mission…"
Morton slammed his hands down, again, on his desk. "Now look here," he told both his officers, "do you realize how nutty you two sound. There IS NO Starfleet Command, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes sir." Both Jackson and Wilson replied in unison.
"And; the Joint Chiefs, and I, have decided to treat this UFO as a hostile threat until proven otherwise. I want you two to start taking this situation more seriously. In fact," Morton said as he took a deep drag on his cigar, and blew the smoke out, readying to use his new word of the day, "I am imparting this little bit of information on you with such erudition, there can be no cloud of doubt as to what I am saying; if we determine it is hostile, or might come under the influence of another country," he leaned in closer to make his point, "we are ordered to blast it into a million pieces."
Maj. Wilson and Lt. Jackson exchanged worried glances.
Brownie Crime by RobertScorpio
THE ENGINEERING SECTION OF THE NCC-1701; ENTERPRISE
Frank Grayson sat with his head buried in his hands. He slid his hands down his face, feeling the rough stubble along his face as he did. He blinked his eyes, again, and looked back to the tech manual the computer referred him too. He also held one of those strange three pronged devices that Scotty, or his men, could be seen using from time to time on the Star Trek TV show. He had no idea what it was, but it appeared he could manually activate the Cloaking Device with the device.
Apparently, after the events of the episode where Kirk stole the damn thing, Scotty had begun to inter-phase the Cloaking Device with the primary systems of the ship. Why Frank had no knowledge of such events, but that they had happened, inspired even more questions than those answered. Luckily Frank had spent four years in the Us Navy when he was younger. He had been an "AZ", thus he had some knowledge of basic computer technology. But would his real world knowledge help him control a fictional TV device? Somehow; he doubted it.
He followed the directions again and then stood up, taking the strange three pronged device with him, and walked over to where the Cloaking Device was. As he did he couldn't help but look around the familiar, but strange room. The sounds, the look, everything was just as it was on the show. He half expected to see Scotty coming through one of the doors to help, but there was no such luck.
He stopped for a second, realizing he was standing on the same spot where one of Scotty's men was killed while trying to do something, Frank couldn't recall. In his mind he could see the beam instantly appearing, killing the poor soul. He closed his eyes and walked past the area and over to the Cloaking Device. He breathed a sigh of relief when nothing happened.
He looked up at the Cloaking Device and he smiled. It sure did look like the same prop they used for a probe on another episode. Yeah, Frank surmised. The fact he could remember something like that proved, once and for all, he was a dork after all. If anything else, this whole ordeal proved that fact! Oh well, there could be worse lots in life.
NORAD COMMAND AND CONTROL DEEP IN THE ROCKIE MOUNTAINS
General Morton stood behind the men, and women, who operated various stations in the command center. He was puffing on his cigar, directly below a DO NOT SMOKE sign that was mounted to the wall above him. Maj. Irv Wilson, and Lt. Jackson, stood to either side of him.
"The MQFIT will be in position in ten minutes or so." Lt. Jackson reported to his two senior officers.
"Very good," Maj.. Wilson said.
"Now, just to be clear on this," Gen. Morton said to them, "I don't want any dumb-ass glamour shots. Just tactical photos of where this thing might be the most vulnerable, that is all I want."
"Khan centered his attack on the engineering section, as I recall. We should start there." Lt. Jackson offered.
Morton looked to Lt. Jackson. "Khan attacked? What the hell are you talking about, son? And who the hell is Khan?"
Maj.. Wilson answered for Jackson. "Khan Noonien Singh, sir. He was a genetically altered Sikh warrior who attacked the Enterprise in revenge for the death of his wife. She was a former officer aboard the USS Enterprise. Khan blamed Captain Kirk for her death and for…"
Gen. Morton shot Maj.. Wilson a stern look that could have frozen the already frozen sperm inside of a frozen dead polar-bear, covered in frozen snow!
"Ummm," Wilson began, "sorry sir, it won't happen again; sir." He added quickly.
"See to it." Morton suggested.
"But sir," Lt. Jackson said, in defense of the Maj., "what if this ship does have the same vulnerabilities as the ship in TV episodes and movies. Shouldn't we use what knowledge we have of it to our advantage?"
Morton nodded his head. "Good point," Morton said. He took the cigar out of his mouth and tipped the end of it, letting the ashes fall to the floor by his feet. He looked at a nearby fire extinguisher, and the sign next to it. CIGARS ARE A FIRE HAZARD. He wanted to flip the sign off with a bird, but decided against it. "Well, tDrake Patton's ghost I have not one, but two, Star TRACK experts right here next to me, just great." Gen. Morton said. "But the moment any of you say the word Klingons; you're both going to the brig!" Morton was practically shouting.
Both men smiled. Then they realized it wasn't a joke, and their smiles vanished instantly.
THE GRAYSON FAMILY HOME
Jennifer Grayson was in the kitchen preparing a small lunch salad, when she heard a knock at the door. She set a head of lettuce down, and rinsed off her hands, and headed for the front door. Maybe Austin was ditching school again and had got caught. She spied through the eyehole on the door, and was not surprised to see two police men. She had dealt with them before; the aforementioned ditching situation with her son Austin. She opened up the door.
"Hello officers," she said with a smile. "How can I help you?"
Officer West spoke. "Sorry to intrude ma'am, but your husband's car was found abandoned in the middle the road about a few hours ago. It was towed to the local impound. We tried contacting him at his place of work, but he hadn't made it to work. Do you have any idea where he might be?"
"Umm," Jennifer began to say, "no officers I don't. You mean he just left it in the middle of the road?"
"Not only that, he left it running. Anyone could have stolen it," the other officer, Gordon, said. "Do you have any means of getting a hold of him? Perhaps he has a cellphone with him?"
"Yes," she said snapping her fingers, "please come in." She told them.
The two officers came inside the house as Jennifer searched for her purse. She brought the two officers a plate of cookies as they sat at the kitchen counter. She continued to look for her purse as the two officers ate their cookies.
"This is a pretty damn good cookie." officer West said, as he savored the chocolate chip laced cookie in his mouth.
"Mighty fine, I agree." officer Gordon said with a nod in approval.
FIVE MILES ALWAYS AT JEFFERSON HIGH SCHOOL...
Austin Grayson jumped the fence near the back of his high-school, skateboard in hand, and joined his three friends, and skated off toward their usual hang out spot when they ditched; Kathy Sobada's house. She had graduated last semester, but she still liked to chill with them. Her, and her three horny girlfriends too!
"Did you bring them?" Lance Tripp, one of Austin's friends, asked, skating at the front of the pack.
Suddenly Austin, who was forth in the line, skidded to a stop. "Ah fuck," he said to his three other friends. "I forgot them in the kitchen. My stupid ass sister dropped some eggs after breakfast, and I left the cookies on the counter to help her clean them up. Shit, I hope my mom doesn't throw them away."
"That's brilliant," Lance said. "We were supposed to go to Kathy's place, get stoned off your specially made cookies, and then get it on with her and her three friends. Good going, jackass."
Austin gave them all a defeated look. "Okay, okay," he said, "I'll go home and get them. I'll meet you guys and Kathy's. But," he said to them, "no one touches Trina, she's mine!"
Austin pushed off, and headed back home while his three friends headed off in the other direction. He had to figure out a way he was going to sneak in, get the pot stuffed cookies, and not be seen by his mom. It was going to be a challenge. Moments later, as he rounded the bend toward his house, he froze in place at what he saw. A black-and-white cop car was parked in the driveway of his house.
"Oh shit!" He said to himself.
NORAD COMMAND AND CONTROL
General Morton, Maj. Wilson and Lt. Jackson, and the rest of the assorted command crew, watched the main screen as the MQFIT high-res satellite was brought into position.
"All right, men," Gen. Morton said to them all, "show us what we got."
Displayed on the screen was the unmistakable image of the USS ENTERPRISE. The alpha-numerical numbers NCC-1701 were painted proudly on the underside of the giant saucer section. The entire assembled crew became silent. The image from the earlier feed was grainy; this one wasn't. The magnification did not blur, or become fuzzy at all. They were actually looking at the USS ENTERPRISE, from TV's Star Trek. It was massive.
"What do we do now sir?" Maj. Wilson asked, in a quiet tone.
Morton puffed on his cigar, as he pondered the next move. He reached down for the handle of a red-phone that was situated on a nearby control panel. He spoke to someone on the other end.
"Are you seeing this?" Morton asked the person on the other end.
Morton nodded his head as he listened to the voice on the other end. After the conversation was over, he hung the phone back up.
"Prepare to launch a DiVAQ." Morton said.
Maj. Wilson looked to Jackson, then back to Morton. "Sir," Maj. Wilson said, "if that missile hits that ship, even the USS Enterprise, and it is unprotected, a DiVAQ will blow a hole in it the size of a canyon, and kill anyone on board."
General Morton turned to Wilson and nodded his head. "Precisely, Maj.." He then looked back up at the Enterprise. "That is the plan."
At that instant, Frank Grayson flipped the lever on the Cloaking Device, having prepped it with the three-pronged doohickey thing. He smiled as the top of the Cloaking Device hummed to life, and the few lights on it began flash.
He flicked another switch on the consol.
"Okay, computer, did the Cloaking Device engage?" Frank asked.
"Negative." The computer replied.
Frank's happy expression turned sour. "Are you sure? Are we still visible?"
Suddenly the alert klaxon began to sound, and it was as loud as hell.
"What's going on?" Frank asked the computer.
The computer made the familiar clicking noise, and then it replied. "Automatic Deflector shields have been activated."
Frank shook his head. "Why?"
"Sensors have detected the launch of a missile from the planet the below."
"What is the trajectory?" Frank asked as became worried what the answer would be.
"Current trajectory of the missile is a collision course with USS ENTERPRISE." The computer replied, with absolutely no emotion.
"Ummm," Frank said softly, "is it a nuclear missile?"
The computer clicked then replied.
Frank stood up in a panic.
"How long will it be until the missile will get here?" Frank asked quickly.
The computer clicked again, and then responded.
"The missile will arrive in approximately 90 minutes and thirty-seven seconds."
"Holy shit!" Frank replied. "What the hell am I suppose to do?"
"Insufficient data; insufficient data."
Target One by RobertScorpio
ABOARD THE USS ENTERPRISE
Frank Grayson ran as fast as he could down the corridor. He found the closest Turbo-lift and entered it. He reached out and pressed the control switch.
"Bridge!" He announced to the computer. Suddenly, the Turbo-lift whisked into motion.
"Computer, how long is it now until the missile will hit the Enterprise?" Frank asked quickly. He couldn't help but think he was in some kind of twisted Star Trek episode. But he didn't have time to screw around. If this was real, and it was really happening, any misstep he made could cause even more problems than the missile hitting the ship.
: Seven minutes and five seconds:
"Go ahead and display the navigation/helm manual I was reading earlier on the main viewing screen on the bridge. Also, activate the weapons targeting system." Frank added. Moments later the doors swooshed open and deposited him on to the bridge. He saw the tech manual pages displayed up on the screen. He took a deep breath. It was now or never.
He hurried down to Chekov's station and sat at the navigation consol. As he did he could see the weapons targeting system viewer rising out from what would be Sulu's consol. Frank pressed the com switch on Chekov's consol.
"Computer, if I were to fire a torpedo at the missile, and missed, what would happen to the torpedo?" Frank asked.: Insufficient Data, Restate the question:
Frank was getting impatient with the computer and now understood why Kirk did as well. "What happens if I miss? Where would the torpedo go? Would it hit the damn planet?": Affirmative:
"Shit, then I can't risk firing a torpedo at it." Frank said to himself. He then continued on his other line of strategy. He looked up at the tech pages that were displayed on the screen. He read as fast as he could, making sure he wasn't totally confused. He read about plotting, and instrument configuration and usage. But he absolutely took his time, because if he didn't, everything could go terribly wrong. He looked at the old style digital clock counting down; it was located between the navigation and helm controls and it read; 06:31.NORAD COMMAND CENTER, DEEP IN THE ROCKIES
The activity of the command center was at a fevered pitch. General Morton stood above it all and watched the men and women shuffle below and various computer posts. Major Irv Wilson was down in the 'pit', the area which housed most of the control stations, and was giving orders. The DiVAQ was equipped with a Five Megaton nuclear device.
The blast, in space, would have to be explained to other countries, but that wasn't Morton's job. But Morton was quite sure that the Russians, and Chinese, were probably already monitoring the situation as well. Morton could only hope that CNN or FOX didn't have a secret pipeline into either Norad, or, its Chinese/Russian counterparts. Keeping this from the public was priority one.
Morton watched as Maj. Wilson walked up the steps, out of the pit, and came over to make a report.
"Give it to me." Morton said, puffing on his cigar as he did.
"All stations report nominal on the DiVAQ. We have positive control of the missile, and detonation solutions as well. As best as we can tell, the missile is being tracked by the Russians and Chinese radar. They must be aware, sir, of why we have launched." Maj. Wilson said.
"Believe me; they are." Genl. Morton said to Wilson.
Both of the men stared up at the live image of the USS ENTERPRISE, as it literally hung there in space above Earth.
"Sir, we have a small problem though." Wilson continued.
Morton blew out some smoke, this time aimed directly at the scurrying officers below, just to let them know he was there, watching over them. "Go ahead." Morton said.
"We had a local reporter from a Colorado news station here today. Her name is Angela Rodriguez and she was here doing a fluff piece on one of our pregnant officers." Wilson told the General.
"Don't tell me," Morton said with a slight sound of anger, "she's still here."
Wilson nodded. "I'm afraid so sir. We have her isolated in one of the upper level food courts. But she is starting to demand answers since we confiscated her assistant's camera and both of their cell-phones."
Morton shook his head, and then he contemplated his next move. The Gen. moved in closer to Wilson, not wanting to be heard. "Does she have big tits?" Morton asked.
"Ummm," Wilson said, confused, "I am not sure sir."
"Get up there, and I find out Major. I need know." Morton said, pressing the matter.
"Why?" Wilson asked.
Morton took a very deep drag on his cigar, and then he blew the smoke up into the air. "Major, I know women," Morton said, "I've been married to one for over twenty years. They are a strange kind of animal."
"Yes sir." Wilson said, just pretending to be going along with the Gen.'s line of thought. But also wondering how someone as nutty as Morton Drake could even become a general.
Morton continued, "I have noticed that the bigger their breasts are, sometimes, the more ambitious they are in certain careers, in this case, TV news, or in my wife's case, trapping me when I was a young man with her fine rack."
Wilson nodded in feign agreement. "I see sir."
Wilson thought to himself; How did this neaderthal get this far?
Lt. Jackson walked up, ready to give a report, and listened as Gen. Morton continued.
Morton smiled at younger officer; Jackson, "Come on Mister Jackson, I want you to hear this. The major and I we're just talking about women with big boobs." Morton said, with a friendly smile, "Now, men, I've met your wives at the various picnics we've had, and just like my wife, I noticed that your wives have big boobs too. No doubt, like me, you had several women buzzing around you when you were young single fellas', and eventually you chose your wives, based in no small part, on the size of their boobs. Am I right or am I right?" His hand making the motion as though he was squeezing melons.
Lt Jackson and Maj. Wilson nodded their heads to accommodate the General.
"Good to see we agree about women; men." Morton said with a warm smile. "I can't trust a man who doesn't like big breasts on a woman. It's un-American." He looked up at the American flag hanging near the main entrance, and put his hand on his heart.
"What does this have to do with the reporter sir?" Maj. Wilson asked.
Morton took out his cigar, flicked some ashes on to the ground, next to the emergency fire hose that was incased inside a glass-housing, and then continued, "She is no doubt trying to make a name for herself in her business. A woman cannot make it big in her line of work without a nice rack. If you don't believe me, look at all the locak news babes doing the weather reports. Anyway,if she has big ones, this tells me she is ambitious. So, if I use that to my advantage, and something big comes of this Star Track crap, I can finally put a higher rung on my ass and get me a new billet for Brigadier General. If I do, then I'll take you both with me when I plant my ass in the Pentagon!"
"And so your next career jump, heck ours too, are only possible because this woman reporter may have big breasts?" Maj. Wilson concluded for the General.
Morton nodded his head. "You got it."
"Did you have a report to give?" Maj. Wilson asked Jackson, wanting to change the subject.
"Ahhhhh, yes sir," Jackson said, as he took in what Morton has just said, "I do. We.."
Suddenly the alert klaxon sounded.
"What's happening?!" Gen. Morton screamed.
"Sir, look!" Maj. Wilson said, pointing at the large, main screen that was displaying the live image of the USS ENTERPRISE. "The damn thing is moving; in reverse!"
Suddenly another alert, of a higher pitch, started to blare as well.
Wilson's eyes darted over to the where the second alert was coming from. The DiVAQ control section of the command center. Lt. Jackson was already over there getting a report from the men, and women, who were in that section.
"What's going on Major?" Gen. Morton asked softly.
"I'm not sure sir. Here comes Jackson now." Wilson answered.
Lt. Jackson's face was grim with concern as he rejoined the two senior officers.
"What's the matter?" Wilson asked Jackson.
"The bogey, by going into reverse, has somehow confused the targeting computers and the onboard RGMS stabilizers on our missile." Jackson said.
Morton chimed in, "Lt Jackson, I am a highly decorated General in the United States Air-Force, so I have no idea what the fuck that means. In English; please!"
Wilson sighed deeply, and then took over for Jackson. "The bogey's movement has confused the missile. It is having trouble maintaining a lock on the bogey."
Morton shook his head. "Shit!" Morton came back with. "These were supposed to be top of the line assets."
Jackson nodded in agreement. "Yes sir, they are," Jackson said, "but we have never really tested them at depths in space this far."
Suddenly another klaxon, the third one to go off in less than two minutes, began to sound off. It too came from the DiVAQ section. Jackson and Wilson looked at the readouts displayed on one of the DiVAQ screens.
"What is it?" Morton asked as Wilson and Jackson shared a concerned glance.
Major Wilson, with all seriousness, shook his head. "The on-line computer has armed the warhead solution, and because the targeting system can't maintain a lock, the missile has gone into some kind of reboot phase. It is malfunctioning."
"So?" Morton replied. "Activate the fucking override and blow it up!"
"The manual override isn't working!" Maj. Wilson said, in a very worried manner.
"The manual override is not working and all, Major? This is so 'Star Trek'" Jackson dead panned.
"Can the missile escape Earth orbit?" Wilson asked Jackson.
Jackson shook his head. "No sir. It will fall back to Earth. It probably won't survive re-entry, but the warhead could possibly detonate on mere impact with anything, even a satellite, in orbit. And if I recall today's briefing, the international space station should be coming through that area in about two hours from now."
Morton took off his baseballcap, which proudly displayed his rank, and rubbed his forehead. "Are you telling me this missile of ours might blow up that idiotic space station?"
Jackson nodded. "It's possible sir. The missile just ran out of fuel. It will take nearly two hours for it to fall back into the atmosphere from where it is now." Jackson pointed at another tactical screen that displayed the missile's position, and the space station. "If I read my telemetry correctly, it is going to be pretty damn close to where the space station will be."
"Do you want me to get the reporter now?" Wilson asked, in all seriousness.
Morton shot Major Wilson a very pissed off glare.
Weed Flux by RobertScorpio
Just outside the suburban home of the Grayson's.
There could be some really serious jail time for something crazy like serving policemen pot-laced cookies, Austin Grayson thought to himself. And as he crouched down behind a nearby row of shrubbery, Austin could only wonder why the cops were even at his house at all. He had already been arrested for ditching a couple weeks back, so he knew getting caught doing it again so soon would be bad.
He racked his brain, and came up with the only idea. He had to get the cops to leave his house. He was looking down at the ground, when he saw a large rock. It was definitely large enough to break the window of the cop car. He could smash the window with the rock, then high tail back to where he was, behind the shrubbery, before the cops came out to see what the noise was.
Austin scanned the surrounding area. Luckily, there was no one was mowing a lawn, or walking a, or just doing things outside. But that wasn't going to last all day. With no other option, he dug the large stone, the size of a half of loaf of bread, out of the dirt by his feet. He scanned the street, and neighborhood, one last time and then started his approach towards the police sedan.
The shrubbery Austin was hiding behind belonged to the Inglehoppers. They were the typical family, a mom and dad, and two kids. One of the kids, Sally, had a crush on Austin that dated back to when they went to elementary school together. She had tried to cozy up to Austin for years, but she had to accept the fact that he didn't find her attractive. In fact, most boys didn't.
And as it turned out, she had stayed home from school that day too. She was feeling a little under the weather, and would use the sick day from school to catch up on her homework. She sat at her desk, her small toy poodle, named Puff Puff, in her lap, looking out the window which looked out over the street below. And then, she saw him. It was him! It was Austin. And it appeared as if the love of her life, though he didn't know he was the love of her life, was sneaking across the street, toward his house, where a police car was parked. And he was holding a large rock over his head!
"What the heck is he doing Puff Puff?" She asked Puff Puff as she petted her poodle, "Isn't he such a doll with that body of his? He is a babe!" She added, in total lush over Austin. "Now, what is my stud muffin up to? Let's go see if we can help him."
Inside Austin's home, his mother Jennifer and the two police men, Gordon and West were sitting in the living room, the two policemen on the couch, Jennifer in the rocking chair, watching an old Tom and Jerry cartoon. The three adults were laughing hysterically, and really enjoying the cookies.
"This is the best damn part." Gordon said as they watched Tom the cat sneak up on Jerry.
Suddenly a giant brick rolled off the roof of the cartoon house, smashing the unsuspecting cat in the head. The three adults laughed even harder, while chewing down more cookies. Officer Gordon was slapping his thigh in utter laughing hysteria.
Meanwhile, outside, Austin stood beside the cop car, and raised the rock over his head. Instantly he crashed it down on the back window of the cop car. He ran back across the street and hid behind the shrubbery, just as he planned it.
Suddenly, at that instant, a green Honda Civic sped by. It was Kathy Sobada's car! The very sexy blond was in the front seat driving, and next to her was Trina Jenson; Austin's soon to be girlfriend! He could also see his three skate-park friends, crammed in the back of the green car, along with two hot looking girls, as the car passed by, just as the two cops came running out of his house!
The kids in the car, seeing the crashed police car's window, screamed and sped off. The police officers, West and Gordon, were giggling as they rushed over to their police cruiser, got inside of it, and then sped down the street after the fleeing civic.
Once both cars were out of view, Austin ran over to his house and quickly went in, and shut the door. He saw his mom laughing her head off while watching a cartoon. She looked at him with glazed eyes.
"This is so funny!" She said, as she took a bite of a cookie.
He turned his attention to the plate of cookies on the table. They were his "special" cookies. He had made eight of them last night, and now, only two of them were left.
"Holy shit, holy shit!" He said, as he ran his worried hands through his scraggily hair.
His mom pointed at him. "You should be in school, mister!" She said, laughing all the while.
Austin ran over to the table, and grabbed up the remaining cookies. He ran into the kitchen to throw them away, but then the thought of Trina. He went ahead and wrapped up the other cookies, and stuck them in his pocket. His mom came in to the kitchen. He turned to see her looking for more cookies on the obviously empty plate.
"Where are the other two cookies?" She asked, giggling as she did.
"Mom, listen to me." Austin told her. "Did the policemen have any of the cookies?"
She nodded her head. "Oh yes honey," she stammered out, "they really liked them. I told them you made them." She made a stern face. "No one ever likes my cookies."
"Damn!" Austin cursed, as he immediately darted out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room. He ran over and opened up his closet, and then felt for the wall above closet door. He breathed a sigh of relief after he found his stash still taped to the wall; nearly three pounds of pot. He took it into the bathroom and was about to flush it, when, he stopped himself.
"Am I crazy? This cost me my 360 and Halo4," He said to himself. "Fuck that, I'll bury it in the backyard!"
He zoomed back down the stairs, where he found his mom sitting on the bottom stair, her head buried in her hands. He stopped to make sure she was okay.
"Mom, are you okay?" He asked her.
She was crying. "Why can't I make cookies?"
She looked up at him, and Austin instantly could tell she was about to crash out.
"Mom, go lay down on the couch." He told her, as he took her by the arm and led her in to the living room. He helped her lay down, and then, he darted towards the back door.
He ran over to the small garden his mom had planted, and grabbed the small hand held shovel and dug a deep enough hole, in the dry part, away from the sprinkler, and placed the baggie of pot inside of it. He covered up the hole, and was startled when he heard a voice.
"Whatch'ya doing?" A girl's voice said from the gate. And not just some ordinary voice, Austin thought to himself. It was Sally Inglehoppers voice. He turned to see the girl, standing at the gate, making goo-goo eyes at him. He walked over to the gate. She stood on the other side.
"Umm, I was just helping my mom by checking out the garden." Austin said quickly.
"I saw what you did to that police car." Sally came right out and said. "Are you trying to get yourself arrested?"
Austin shook his head. "No, it was just an accident. The rock slipped out of my hand."
Sally smiled a devious smile. "Well, I don't know. I saw you raise it over your head and slam it down. Oh, don't worry Austin; it will be our little secret. Just like the time when we were nine years old and you…"
He stopped her. "Yes, yes, I remember. Just please don't tell anyone about the police car; okay?"
She nodded. "You know, next week is the sweet-heart dance. No one has asked me out yet and I would sure like to go."
Austin could tell by the tone of her voice, Sally wanted to go with him, or else.
He would have to take one for the team. "You want to go with me?" He asked her.
She nodded her head. "Yes!" Sally said, joyfully. She started to walk back to her place. "I have this perfect new dress, it will be the bomb. See you then Austin!" And with that she was gone, as if she was floating on could nine; whereas it seemed to Austin that a dark cloud was now hovering over him.
But while Austin was trying his best to stay out of juvinile hall; his dad was going to have to act fast to prevent World War III!Next time…the International Space Station will be destroyed, all six astronauts killed; unless it is saved by the USS ENTERPRISE
Station Down by RobertScorpio
BRIDGE OF THE USS ENTERPRISE
Frank Grayson sat back in the Navigation chair. The missile had lost its lock on the Enterprise, so he was safe for now. He watched as the view screen displayed the missile. It was quickly running out of speed, which got Frank to thinking.
"Computer, won't the missile keep going off into space?" Frank asked.
: Negative. The missile is still in the gravitation pull of the planet Earth:
Frank nodded his head. "So, it will just burn up in the atmosphere and cause a great fireworks show."
There was no answer from the computer. Why would there be, the computer probably didn't even know what a firework's display was. Frank took a sigh of relief, and then he looked at the missile again as it started to tumble back towards Earth.
"Ummm, just in case computer; was the warhead on the missile armed?" Frank asked.
Frank's smile began to fade. He stared at the view screen and could see a large object in far orbit of the planet.
"Computer, magnify and identify the object in the upper part of the screen." Frank said quickly.
The image was magnified. Frank gasped. It was the international space station. He looked at the position of the tumbling missile.
"Computer, plot the course of the space station, and the missile. Are they on a collision course?" Frank asked, not wanting to hear the answer.
"How many humanoid life forms are on the space station?" Frank asked softly.
: There are nine humanoid life forms. Six male, three female:
Frank shook his head in disbelief. "Shit! Unless those idiots down there do something about it," he said to himself. "I'm going to have to shoot the missile down after all." He snapped his fingers. "Computer, scan the missile. Is there a manual override function for the missile?"
There was a slight pause and then. : Affirmative:
"Are they trying to do use it? Scan for any signals between the missile and the planet below." Frank suggested quickly.
: Affirmative. The manual function of the missile is non-responsive:
"Gee; like I couldn't see that one coming. This is bad. I could wait for them to shoot it down," Frank said out loud. "But what if they miss or something else goes wrong." Then he looked at the targeting scanner at Sulu's station. He took a deep breath. "Computer, display targeting and weapon's control SOP on the main viewing screen."
Suddenly, the tech pages that explained the use of the weapon system were displayed. He didn't have long, and started reading immediately. Just as with the navigation of the ship, he had to take his time to get this right as well.
"Computer, how long will it be until impact between the missile and space station?" Frank asked, hoping it was longer than he knew it would be.
: 97 minutes, 37 seconds:
Frank took a deep breath, and began to read the manual.
SOMEWHERE IN CHINA
A NON DESCRIPTIVE BUILDING IN THE CITY OF HANGZHOU
the office of Liu Fong.
General Zhan stood at the desk of Liu Fong. Liu Fong sat in the chair on the other side of the desk and read the incredible information, and pictures, that Zhan had just handed him. They spoke in Cantonese, but for our story purposes, it is translated.
"This is most incredible General Zhan." Liu Fong said as he studied the pictures, of the USS ENTERPRISE in orbit of the Earth, and the current status of the American's defensive posture.
"They have failed to cripple it with a missile?" Liu Fong asked.
Gen Zhan nodded his head. "Yes. However, the missile has been armed, and poses a direct threat to the space station."
Liu Fong grimaced. "That would be most unfortunate for the crew." Then he smiled. "But fortunate for us. Our own space station is set to launch in one year. We will finally have dominance in space."
Gen Zhan gave Liu Fong a puzzled look. "One of our exchange astronauts is part of space station's crew. He will be killed unless we offer to intervene."
"Yes, I know." Liu Fong said, with sorrow. "We shall see to it that his family is well taken care of."
Zhan pressed the issues. "We could easily offer the Americans our assistance by offering to launch one of our own G-2 intercept missiles to destroy the missile before it threatens the space station. Beijing could use this act for positive propaganda against the Americans."
At that moment Liu Fong took out a small gun, fitted with a silencer, and shot the General in the middle of the forehead with it. He watched as the General fell backward on his back, stone cold dead. Liu Fong stood up and talked to the dead man's body.
"What Beijing wants, and what the Nine Dragons want, are not always the same." He said, scornfully at the body. Liu Fong clapped his hands twice and two large Chinese men came in and dragged the body out. A third man came in. He was Liu Fong's number one assistant, and his name was Wei-Chun. He stood before Liu Fong and bowed his head, waiting for an order.
Liu Fong held out a passport.
"Make the appropriate arrangements. I am going to America." Liu Fong said.
Wei-Chun nodded in obedience. "How long will you be staying?"
Liu-Fong contemplated an answer. "I cannot be to sure. Just make sure the usual arrangements are made."
Wei-Chun nodded quickly, and then strode away quickly.
Liu-Fong sat back down and looked at the photos. He actually was a fan of the old American program, Star Trek. Looking around his office, and after making sure no one saw, he made a perfect Vulcan hand salute. Then he looked back down at the picture of the USS Enterprise. If the ship was as real as it seemed, and became a tool for his organization, it would be a fine prize indeed. And then he slammed his fist down on the Enterprise.
Prepare; for Battle! by RobertScorpio
THE BRIDGE OF THE USS ENTERPRISE
Frank Grayson prepared to fire the Photon-torpedo. If he missed the missile, the torpedo would continue on, and according to the computer, it would hit somewhere on the Asia continent. Knowing his luck, Frank thought, that probably meant China. What if he blew a hole in the Great Wall? He shook his head, and tried his best to forget the image.
"And I always wanted to see the Great Wall someday." Frank said out loud, mournfully.
Instantly the main screen switched to a nice panoramic view of the Great Wall. Frank smiled.
"Why thank you, computer." Frank said softly.
Of course, there was no response.
Having switched over to Sulu's station, Frank gazed back into the targeting viewer. It wasn't as difficult as he thought it was going to be. The display inside the viewer was not much different from a game he played in his youth at the old Video arcades. It was a video game called Battlezone which was a very primitive video game, by 2013 standards, but it was fun back in the day. The Enterprise targeting system's graphic display wasn't that much different, but with far much more detail. But the stakes in this 'game' were far more high, and deadly.
His eyes squinted as he eyed the target. In his head he went over all of what he had read moments earlier. Because he wanted to be precise, he had taken his time. Now there was only just over an hour to destroy the missile. He held his finger over the button that would be pressed. And once it was pressed, the Photon-torpedo, a science fiction version of a submarine torpedo, would streak out from the ship and, with any luck, strike the missile. He took a quick and deep breath. He pressed the button.
He watched on the screen as the ball of energy headed straight for the falling missile. And though it came real close, the Photon Torpedo sped past the nuclear-tipped missile.
"Shit!" Frank cursed at himself.
Frank shook his head as he watched the torpedo smash into the Great Wall, causing a giant explosion.
"Was that really necessary?" Frank asked the computer.
: Negative. Simulation complete:
The background bridge noises, which Frank always found annoying when he watched the show, was just as loud as it had been, but had faded into the background as he became more accustomed to it. He stood up and stretched his legs. He took a deep breath. It was time for the real shot. He sat back down, and steadied his nerves. It was now, or never. He leaned in and gazed inside of the targeting viewer. And this time, when he decided to press the button, a real Photon-torpedo would burst from the Enterprise, and hopefully, for real, hit the "falling" nuclear missile.
NORAD COMMAND CENTER; Deep within the Rocky Mountains
Gen. Morton sat behind his desk. He was not a happy man. He lit another cigar, it was his 15th this day so far, sat back, and went over the dire situation in his head one more time. The two specially designed F-22s that were outfitted with intercept missiles just for occasions like this had been deployed to Iraq one week earlier due to threats from Iran to launch against Israel. NORAD could attempt to shoot the falling DiVAQ down with another DiVAQ, but one falling nuclear missile was bad enough, without doubling the danger. So far, the entire escapade had been kept top secret; well, except for the fact that the Russians and Chinese knew. Suddenly Major Wilson came into the office.
The Major, who was accompanied by a very attractive young woman, offered a chair for the young lady. As she sat down, with her gaze away from Gen. Morton, as she settled in to her chair, Gen. Morton looked up to Maj. Wilson, and arched both his eyebrows, at the same time, twice. Morton was also about to make the squeezing melon motion with his hands again, but the Major shook his 'no' in very quick motion.
Maj. Wilson sat in the chair next to the reporter. Morton ogled the woman's ample breast, under the guise of reading her visitor badge. She was wearing a nice white blouse that accented her curves very nicely. His well-honed horn-dog eyes could also detect a very stylish lace bra beneath her blouse. Gen. Morton reached under his desk, and pressed the secret button that activated the office's nice and very cold air conditioner.
"This is Ms. Angela Hanes, General." Maj. Wilson said finally.
"Very pleased to meet you," Morton said, as he took a drag on his cigar. "I hope my men have treated you and your camera man with the usual Air Force pride.'
Hanes smile back at him. "Oh yes," she said to Morton, "they have been very respectful. But is there any special reason why my assistant and I can't leave?"
Morton found her very sensual smile, and very bright eyes, intoxicating. She also wore a strawberry scented perfume, or maybe, better yet, it was a body spray. Whatever it was, the smell aroused him.
Wilson cut in. "Sir, I told her about the unexpected drill."
Morton nodded his head. "Yes, Major Wilson is quite right." Morton said to her. "Due to sensitive reasons, which I cannot go into, you and your camera man will have to stay in the compound."
She smiled again. "Is shooting down the USS Enterprise one of those sensitive reasons?" She followed up with.
Morton just kept smiling. "How do you know about that?"
She pointed behind her back at the main display screen, which she had just walked passed, in the command center. It still showed the live feed of the Enterprise.
"Oh, that," Morton said innocently. "Isn't that incredible Maj. Wilson? Are we really shooting the USS Enterprise? Are we going to be killing T.J Hooker today?"
"You mean Captain Kirk, don't you?" Hanes interjected.
Major Wilson, realizing that the General couldn't lie, at all, cut in. "No ma'am. That's just a screen saver that we nerds like to look at in our spare time."
"I see," Hanes said with a smile, "so while you go through one of these drills, you display the image of a TV show's space ship to calm your nerves."
"Oh yes Ms. Hanes," Morton interjected, "it is very supported by the works of Mr. Spock."
"You mean Dr. Spock, don't you; the famed baby doctor?" Hanes asked, slightly confused.
Suddenly, the men and women in the tactical area all started a commotion, which included yelling and shouting loud. There were even a couple screams. Lt. Jackson ran into the office.
"The Enterprise has fired a God damn Photon-torpedo!" Jackson said excitedly, and he then ran back out of the office.
Morton stood up from behind his desk, "Hey; What the screaming balls of cow shit on fire is a Photon torpedo, a sandwich?" Morton demanded as he followed Wilson, who in turn was following Jackson, out the office door, leaving Hanes all alone in the office.
Angela Hanes shook her head. "Ummm, okay." She said softly too herself. "That was kind of strange." She stood up, and took a moment to rub her arms. It was as if the temperature had dropped ten degrees since she had come into the General's office.
She turned around to see what was going on outside the office. On the large main screen she saw a ball of energy streaking across the screen. The ball of energy struck what looked like a rocket. Suddenly there was a small explosion, and then the men and women in the NORAD command and control center all cheered loudly. There was something more going than a simple training exercise, Angela's young reporter mind deduced.
She walked out of the office and over to Gen. Morton, and Maj. Wilson, who were standing on a platform that overlooked the myriad of computers and control stations below them. Several of the officers, and crew men who operated those stations, were exchanging very enthusiastic high fives.
"This is a very good set up you have here." She complimented the two officers as she joined them.
"We call that the pit." Maj. Wilson said, motioning to the area below.
Gen. Morton, meanwhile, couldn't help but notice the two very slight 'bumps' that were slightly visible on her skirt, right where her breast were housed in her bra. He smiled. He would see to it that the night time janitor found another fifty bucks in his locker the next day for rigging up the air conditioning unit in such a way.
"Do your men usually get this excited about watching a screen saver?" Angela asked innocently.
"Sir, look." Maj. Wilson interrupted.
The USS Enterprise was moving again. This time it changed course, and was actually heading toward the position of the approaching international space station.
"What's it doing? Attacking? Gentlemen; listen very carefully." Gen. Morton directed his words to those in the pit. "I don't have time for to babysit each of you and hold your hands. You all need to grow up and act like men!" Gen. Morton told them all. He looked down to Lt. Jackson, who was at one of the main control panels. "Lt. Jackson, would you mine telling me what is going on?"
"It's hard to say at this point, General." Lt. Jackson said from his post in the pit.
Aboard the USS Enterprise,
Frank kept an eye on Earth below, and the space station, which the Enterprise would zip past in a few moments. Suddenly the computer said…
: Cloaking device engaged:
Moments ago, on the international space station, American astronaut Jarvis McGee and Chinese exchange astronaut Hyan Enlai were doing final touch-ups on their spacewalk. Suddenly a flash of light caught their attention, and they saw an explosion in the distance, in a slightly higher orbit than the orbit of the space station. Hyan tapped Jarvis on the shoulder and pointed at a larger object further out in space, but coming their way.
Jarvis's jaw dropped as the object was about to fly over the space station, at about a distance of nearly five miles or so. He recognized it instantly. It was the USS Enterprise, from TV's Star Trek show. And then, without warning, the ship vanished from view.
"They must have a cloaking device." He said to himself, not wanting to believe he just seen. Then he shook his head in a total attempt to forget what he saw. He wouldn't let space sickness be the cause to be let go from the space program.
"Come again?" A voice said from inside his helmet's communication device.
Jarvis smiled at Hyan, who was saying strange, and quick, Chinese words. Jarvis hadn't mastered the language Hyan spoke, the international tone was unmistakable. The Chinese astronaut was cussing words of disbelief.
Frank altered the course of the Enterprise, and actually came about. Soon the ship darted past the point from where he had taken it into drive. He went nearly five minutes past that position before he brought the ship to a stop.
"Computer, am I correct in assuming that this ship cannot be tracked while cloaked?
He took a deep breath, and breathed out. The missile disaster had been averted, but just barely. Now he had to deal with what would happen next. He couldn't live up in space on the famed science fiction ship. And if he didn't go back down, it would cause suspicion. He thought for a moment, and then he came to the only logical answer; He would have to let his wife know what was going on. He stood up and went over to Spock's station.
"Computer, go ahead and lock the ship in this position above Earth. Then display an overhead image of San Diego California." That was where he and his family lived.
Seconds later, the image of San Diego became viewable in the viewer-thingy that Spock always looked into. Frank looked into the device as well. Using the dials nearby, as he had read about earlier, he zoomed into the area. In seconds he could see his house. He smiled. He could only wonder how Jennifer was going to react to what was going on.
"Computer, how many life signs are inside the structure?" Frank asked.
: There are two life forms:
Frank couldn't just beam the two life forms up. He had to determine who they were. He fished inside of his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Just as he was about to dial his home number, he stopped. What if the signal from his phone could be tracked out into space? He didn't know if it could or couldn't. All he really knew was that he couldn't risk it. He gambled that one of the signals was that his wife, Jennifer. The other life sign had to be either their daughter, or their son. It could also be Jennifer's sister, Marissa. In fact, he realized, it could be anyone!
"Computer; get a lock on those two life forms, then relay them to the transporter room." Frank said. "Hey," he said to himself, "I think I'm starting to get the hang of this." He said with pride. "That actually sounded pretty good!"
He stood up and headed toward the transporter room. He stood in the Turbo-lift and told it where to go.
"Transporter room," he told the computer as he racked his brain for the right one. "Ummm, Transporter room, number three." He finally said. "God, I'm a dork." He said with a laugh. He took a moment to think his situation through.
Firing torpedoes, and moving the ship was one thing. Operation of the Transporter machine was another. One wrong move and he might turn someone inside out, just like the monkey in that movie the Fly. He tried to put that image out of his head. And, he recalled the information he had read earlier on how to operate the Transporter machine. Then he realized that he would have to deactivate the Cloaking device to use the Transporter, which would make the ship visible again.
"This should be fun." He said with a wry smile.
The Grayson Home; San Diego
Austin sat on the floor of the living room inside of his house, his back up against the couch. His mother, who was stoned from eating his specially made cookies, was sleeping soundly on the couch. He could only hope that his friends were able to get away after he smashed the police sedan's window with that rock. They had a pretty good head start on the cops, Gordon and West. And no doubt, like his mother, the two policemen were most likely stoned as well, which would hamper their pursuit abilities.
And once they figured out they were stoned, they would no doubt want to spare the embarrassment of being stoned on the clock. Austin hoped that meant he was safe; for now.
He was getting a little hungry himself. Then he realized he had two of the cookies in his pocket. He was about to get one of them to eat, when he thought better of it. He looked over to his mom, who looked so peaceful, as she slept on the couch.
He knew from conversations with his parents that they had smoked pot when they were dating in high-school. Austin suspected they still did now and then, and that was why he thought his parents were so cool. But he doubted his dad ever got his mom stoned, or the local policemen as well!
He would wait a couple more days before even thinking about baking another batch of cookies. And because Sally Inglehopper might have known more than she seemed to, Austin decided to move his stash from the garden once he had the time to.
The bedroom of the door next to the living room was wide open. And, oblivious to Austin, the window of the other room provided a direct view into the living room. Little did he know, but he was being watched by Sally Inglehopper.
Sally was watching Austin as he propped himself up against the couch.
"What a sweetie you are." She said to Austin, knowing he couldn't hear her, but wishing he did. "Looking after your mom like that? You are the best son a mom could ever have hoped for!" She smiled. "I love you Austin Grayson." She said softly. "And I can't wait until we go to the dance next week."
She imagined what that night would be like. He would come to her front door, and her parents would let him in. He would be dressed in a very dashing tuxedo. And then, with much fanfare, she would come down the stairs in her flowing white gown. She would go up to him, and he would take her hand, and kiss it, as he knelt to the floor, like a knight. Then he would stand, and prepare to pin a corsage to her dress.
She blushed at the thought. But then, suddenly, as she watched Austin, a strange thing happened to his body. It began to shimmer, as well as his mom's body too. And in mere seconds; they were both gone. Instantly Sally fainted.
THE TRANSPORTER ROOM
Frank Grayson watched as his wife, Jennifer, and son, Austin, materialized on the Transporter platform. She was apparently a sleep.
Austin buried his head in his hands, and then he opened his eyes to look around. At that moment Frank ran over and knelt down next to his wife.
"What's wrong with mom?" Frank asked his son.
"Ummm… dad?" Austin said, as he looked around worried. "Where exactly are we?"
Frank looked to his son. "Where do you think are?" Frank asked.
Austin looked around, again, and started to worry. Maybe there was something more than just pot in that stash. Maybe the seller had blended it with something else.
"Dad, I think I've had an overdose." Austin said as he buried his head into his hands again.
Frank didn't want to believe his son. "No you haven't Austin," Frank said, "we are really aboard the Starship Enterprise."
Austin could only shake his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the wrapped pot-laced cookies. Frank took the cookie, opened, and then he sniffed the cookie. Frank almost fell over from the smell.
"Jesus Christ, Austin!" Frank said. "I thought you learned your lesson last summer when we caught you with that joint in your backpack."
Austin shook his head. "I know dad, but come on, it isn't that easy. All of my friends smoke weed, it's not like I go out and kill people for drug money. It's harmless fun. You even said you did it when you were my age."
Frank shook his head. "So that's why you don't have your plasma TV any more. You sold it for drug money didn't you?"
Austin nodded. "I don't even like to watch TV, dad."
Frank breathed in deeply. He had to remind himself that simply because he was somehow beamed aboard the USS ENTERPRISE it didn't mean he could just forget his real life. He pointed at Austin, and even poked him in the arm a couple times as he spoke.
"You can't spend your life getting high; Austin." Frank said. "Yeah, I know sounds cliché but it's so true. Yeah, and I know I did it too. But promise me you're going to try to ease out of it."
Austin nodded his head. "I'll try dad. Just don't make me stop seeing my friends."
Frank thought for a moment. "You're getting to an age I can't control every aspect of your life. We've raised you to be independent, and that's what I like about you. I just hope you got some common sense in your head, as well as pot."
Austin laughed. "Don't worry dad, I won't let you down." Austin replied.
Frank looked at Jennifer, his wife. "Now; what's wrong with your mom. Why is she so tired?"
Austin could only tell the truth. "She's stoned too."
"Shit," Frank said as he rested his head on his wife's stomach. "Anyone else I need to know about?"
Austin nodded yes, "Just those two cops; Gordon and West.
"You got two cops stoned?" Frank asked as he shook his head in disbelief.
Austin nodded, and then he looked directly at his dad. "Dad, where are we?" He said as he looked around at the strange surrounding.
Frank stood up. "We're aboard the starship Enterprise."
Austin could only manage one word in reply. "Cool." He stood up too.
"What do we do now?" Austin asked.
Frank leaned down and picked his wife up in his arms. "We'll take her down to sickbay to see if we can do something to help snap out of it."
"Ummm… sickbay?" Austin managed to ask as they walked out of the TRANSPORTER room and turned the corner.
A JET FLYING HIGH OVER CHINA
Liu Fong sat on one of the large chairs that were arranged in the large meeting area of the jet. The jet had just taken off moments earlier, and was on its way to Honolulu Hawaii, and then, from there, Denver Colorado.
Liu Fong, although he at times worked for what was best for Beijing, also worked for what was best for the Nine-Dragons. The Nine-Dragons were a secret society that had secretly guided China's course for nearly two thousand years. This meant having to prod the mass of humanity that populated China in ways that might seem questionable, but had to be followed through with none the less.
The 21st century had already proved to be the century of China; as prophesized by the American President Richard Nixon. And if somehow the Americans had constructed a fully operational USS ENTERPRISE, then it fell upon the Nine-Dragons to either seize the vessel, or destroy it. Liu Fong was the Nine-Dragons most capable agent; he would not fail. He would kill, or have killed, anyone who stood in his way.
His number one assistant, Wei-Chun, handed Liu several files, as well as a cup of hot tea. Chun bowed his head, and then silently left the room.
Liu Fong looked at three files. Because there wasn't much time to plan a more covert operation, Liu would have to find a more direct way to obtain up-to-date info on the mysterious ship that was somewhere in orbit of Earth. To do that, he would have to find a way to gain leverage over an officer who was stationed inside the American complex at NORAD.
Each file provided a possibly weak link into the nerve center of the top secret Rocky Mountain command platform. But after nearly 15 minutes he came to a conclusion as to which option to initiate. He clapped his hands twice and Wei-Chun returned.
"Have you made your selection?" Mr. Chun asked as he came back into the main room.
Liu sipped from the teacup and smiled. "Yes I have Mr. Chun." Liu handed We-Chun the chosen file. "Please make the necessary arrangements in Colorado. I will send a coded message back to Beijing to see to it that the necessary stem-cells are procured."
"The use of stem-cells, in this manner, is outlawed by American legislation." Wei-Chun reminded liu.
"Since when has American law altered our plans? Just make sure we have access to the target's little girl; when the time comes." Liu-Fong ordered.
Wei-Chun eyed the folder. "It shall be done." Wei-Chun replied. He looked down one more time at the name of person who would provide a direct link to the inner workings of NORAD. It would be a young African-American male named Lt. Leonard Jackson.
A NON-DESCRIPTIVE BUIDLING IN THE MIDDLE OF A LARGE CITY; SOME WHERE IN THE USA
The elevator shaft went deep, very deep, underground. A lone man rode down the shaft in inside the scruffy elevator car. But where the elevator car was heading was not scruffy at all.
The man's name was Narrenson; or at least that's what people called him. His real name was a mystery, which is how he lived his life. The post he commanded predated the old J. Edgar Hoover days of American secret government agencies, meaning; it was far more secretive. The agency was so secret it wasn't even kept on the list of agencies that were kept off the list. The agency drew from resources that went all the way back to J.P. Morgan, the famed American Banker of the 1800s. The name of the agency was only known to a very select few; and even they did not speak of it to others. The agency was called "Eight".
Narrenson was in his mid-fifties and was the director of Eight, having assumed the directorship of the agency when he was thirty-four years old. He would retire his post on the day turned sixty, as was policy. His successor would be selected by a secret quorum. And on that day, Narrenson would be given a sedative, and another injection that would bring his life to a quiet and dignified end. It was a fate he accepted when he took on the role of director.
The elevator finally came to a stop and the door opened. Narrenson stepped out and he then he walked down a long dark hallway that led to a door that slid opened, and he stepped through it.
The room was dark with a myriad of computer posts arrayed in small cubicles. The different posts were manned by men and women who, upon selection of service, served for twelve consecutive years with absolutely no contact with the real world. There were no televisions, no internet, absolutely no contact at all in any form, with the outside world. This, too, had been policy from the beginning of the agency.
Once their twelve year commitment was over, the service member underwent nine months of mind programming to change their memories so as to minimize the knowledge of the agency to reach the world.
All communications in the facility were exchanged through emails, or other instant messaging protocols that were all contained in house. No verbal communication was aloud at any time. Violation of that simple rule meant being removed from the service. There was only one secured line that could reach the outside world, and it was kept under severe security measures. Only Narrenson had access to it.
Kept in a very secure room was the most important component of Eight. It was simply called the Server. The first version of The Server was built and operational, in this very building, in 1923 using technologies and theories from scientist as diverse as Einstein and Tesla. The current version of the Server was the sixth of the line, and the most complex.
Despite what the masses had been led to believe, no alien craft had ever crashed at Roswell. There have been no alien abductions, no string of alien lights flying over the Arizona desert in front of High-school football game crowds. But what there was, was, the Server. And it was a very special device with a very special purpose.
Narrenson walked over to the security door that led to the Server. He was scanned by a purple light. The door to the Server opened, and Narrenson stepped through. The door slid shut behind him. He was in another elevator car. Suddenly in traveled down several floors and came to a sudden stop. The door slid opened and Narrenson stepped out. The elevator shut behind him.
Narrenson walked toward the center of the room; and there it was; The Server.
The Server had one simple purpose, and one simple purpose only; to protect Earth. Narrenson walked over to the sleek looking Server. It was nearly seven feet tall, six inches wide, and totally black. It made absolutely no sound. Narrenson reached out and touched the Server. Instantly a virtual keyboard and monitor were projected from the Server for Narrenson to use. He used the keyboard to key in a simple command.
Suddenly a strange object was projected next to the Server. It was, for lack of better words, a ball of energy. But in the center of the ball of energy was something that Narrenson recognized instantly. It was the USS ENTERPRISE. The ball of energy was surrounding the Enterprise, and deflected light. Narrenson smiled at the force field around the ship. It was, just as he guessed, a Cloaking Device. Though it was intended to shroud the ship with invisibility, the Server could see right through it.
And the Server had also detected signals coming from the famed fictional ship earlier. The signals scanned a particular area on the planet below. Narrenson keyed in more commands and the Server zoomed in the coordinates that Enterprise's scanners had zeroed in on. It was a simple home in San Diego California. The faces of the family were displayed one at a time from youngest to oldest. The last image displayed was that of a man named; Frank Grayson.
THRYSON-CLEMENTS HOSPITAL, DENVER COLORADO
Ryana Jackson could only sit in the observation room and watch as her seven year old daughter, Shyawna, was being prepared for her monthly CAT scan. Nearly four months earlier the young girl had been diagnosed with a rare brain disorder that slowly, but surely, would cause her brain to degenerate. Her death was certain; there was no treatment.
Being so rare that Shyawna's condition was Ryana, and her husband, Lt. Leonard Jackson, had volunteered to let their daughter's condition be studied so that through the doctor's efforts, a better understanding could be attained, and maybe, someday, a cure could be found. Stem-cell research looked promising, but legislature regulating this new medical technology would not be worked out for years to come. By then Shyawna would be dead, but others could possibly be treated. Maybe their daughter's short life could help others.
"Your daughter is very brave. " Dr. William Hunt said as he joined her in the observation area. He sat down and held Ryana's hand in his. "The scan is already showing the signs of neuron degradation." He said to her.
As he spoke, Nurse Donna Willis came in from the room and the CAT scan techs prepared for more tests.
"What does that mean?" Ryana asked, as a tear came down from her left eyes.
Doctor Hunt put a hand on her shoulder. "I believe she will start showing more signs very soon."
"How long does she have to live?" Ryana asked softly.
"Maybe three months, maybe a little more," Dr. Hunt said with sorrow.
Ryana bowed her head down. Giving birth to Ryana was not easy. After the complications of childbirth it was determined that Ryana would never be able to have children again. It was a secret she did not share with her husband Leonard.
Nurse Willis came over and sat next to Ryana and held her other hand. It was not a moment that any Doctor or Nurse ever cherished; telling a parent their child was going to die.
"Just enjoy what time you have." Nurse Willis said. "I lost my child when she was at a very young age as well. You're not alone in this."
Ryana nodded her head as she sobbed. She held their hands tight. "I will still pray for a miracle." Ryana said, in a determined way.
Then she looked up and through the window at her daughter, as the CAT scan moved around her small body. Ryana stood up and walked over to the window and waved at her little girl, who waved back. Then Ryana looked back to Doctor Hunt and Nurse Willis.
"I believe in Miracles." Ryana said with a smile.
Inside a top secret Chinese government medical research centers, scientists and nurses hurried about from one project to another. Liu Fong's message had been received.
Perhaps there is a God, perhaps there isn't. But the cure to Shyawna's condition would soon be in the hands of Liu Fong. Fong would use the young girl and her dire condition as a tool. Shyawna was a like pawn that would either survive the game; or die. It would be up to Liu Fong to decide.
A Force for Good by RobertScorpio
ABOARD THE CLOAKED USS ENTERPRISE
Austin Grayson was marveling at the 23rd century spray-bottle he held as his dad prepared a hypo.
Luckily, for Frank, the different ship areas, engineering, weapons, and even medical, kept real detailed SOPS (Standard Operation Procedures) in each work station. If someone took the time to read them, and really paid attention to detail, they were quite helpful. Austin held up the spray-bottle to his father.
"Dad, this is just a bottle like the ones for 409. Look at the sprayer-trigger thing. They don't even make them like this anymore in our time." Austin said with a slight tone of disbelief in his voice.
"Yeah, well just in case, don't touch anything in here." Frank said as he put the hypo up to his wife's arm. Jennifer was still in a nice peaceful sleep, thanks to the special cookies she had eaten earlier.
Jennifer Grayson opened her eyes and smiled as she saw her two most favorite men looking down at her; Frank and Austin. Her last cohesive memory was laughing it up with the two policemen and then complaining that no one liked her cookies as much as they like her son's.
"Hello dear." Frank said to her.
She smiled back at him. The feeling she had was one she had had many times before. It was the 'after the high' feeling of being stoned. But how could that be. She sat up from the bed she was in and felt a little dizzy, but then she started feeling better.
"What happened to me?" She asked softly.
"You got stoned mom." Austin said, as he stood next to Frank.
She giggled. "What do you mean I got stoned?" She asked back to him.
Frank helped her stand up. "Austin's right honey, you got stoned. Apparently our son can make really good cookies." Frank said with a slight smile, and even with a little pride. Frank had made some pretty interesting brownies back in his old college days that were still legendary. Though, he would never tell Austin.
"It was the cookies?" She asked surprised.
"Yeah," Austin replied in a guilty tone, "I made some cookies last night and I, well, I blended in some weed and, ummm, you ate them. Were they as good as dad's brownies?"
"You told him about that?" Frank said in slight anger.
Jennifer smiled back at Frank, and she looked a little peeved. "No, your brother did."
Frank looked to Austin. "This isn't funny Austin. I hope this is the last time." Frank knew it wouldn't be; Austin still had college in his future. But he knew his son well enough to know it was just a phase with the young man, as it was with him.
Jennifer gasped, and put her hand over her mouth. "Frank, I gave some of those cookies to the policemen who came looking for," she directed her attention to Frank, "you." She took a second and looked around her strange surroundings. "Hey, where are we?" She asked.
Frank looked at the two of them. "I just got done telling Austin, but I'll say it again to you." Frank said. "Somehow, someway, and I know it sounds incredible to believe, but we are aboard the Starship Enterprise."
Jennifer looked at him with a smile. "Of course we are honey." She didn't let two seconds pass until she continued. "Have you been eating our son's cookies too?"
"Mom, he isn't kidding." Austin said quickly. "He actually beamed the two of us up here about fifteen minutes ago." Austin said "Then he carried you here to sickbay, gave you a shot from that thing," he pointed at the hypo that was in Frank's hand, "and now here we are. Isn't if fucking cool?"
"What your language." Frank reminded Austin.
"Sorry dad, but shit, it's all too hard to believe. I must be dreaming." Austin said.
"That's what I thought at first." Frank said to his son. "But you're not, I'm not, none of us are." He said as he looked to his wife. "And, as far as I can tell, we are the only ones aboard."
Jennifer shook her head. "You expect me to believe that the three of us are in outer space aboard that ship?" She asked.
Frank sighed. "Yep," he told her, "and I have no idea what is going on. And the bad news is that someone on Earth knows we are here. They just tried to blow this ship up with a nuclear missile, but I was able to destroy it with a Photon-torpedo. We're cloaked right now, but I'm not sure how long that will last."
Jennifer began to laugh. "Do you even realize how silly that sounds? You shot it down with a fucking Photon-torpedo? Excuse my French."
Frank nodded. "Believe me, I do honey." Frank said. "Better yet, I'll show you, come with me." He told her.
They walked toward the door and it opened, making the familiar swooshing noise.
"That's awesome." Austin said as he heard the noise of the door.
The three of them walked down one of the corridors of the ship. Frank spoke as they did.
"I was in my car, and I found this in my pocket." He reached in his pocket and showed them the communicator. "The next thing I know, I'm up here on the ship."
"That's why the cops were at the house." Jennifer told him. "They found your car abandoned on the freeway, and wanted to know where you were."
"Great," Frank said, "just great. Keeping this secret is going to be harder than I thought." Frank told her.
"You want to keep it secret?" Austin asked.
They came to a Turbo-lift and entered it. Frank gave it the bridge command and the Turbo-lift went into action.
"Yeah, we have to keep this secret, at least for now." Frank told Austin.
Austin's idealism rang through his words as he spoke. "Dad, can't you imagine what something like this ship could do for the world? You could use it to transport resources around the planet; like food and water for the poor. You've kind of always been open to new ideas like that. You could even save the whales by blasting those asshole whalers out of the water. This ship could be used for so much good." Austin pleaded.
Frank liked his son's free spirit. "Yes, we could use it to do good things like that." Frank agreed. "Then again, what about the other uses of this ship?" Frank said in a soft voice. "What if Al-Qayda; or heck, some of the goofball people in our own government got their hands on this ship? For all the good a ship like this could do, it could also be used to cause more harm than good."
"We won't let them." Austin said resolutely.
"Austin, listen to me, if someone found out we had access to this ship, someone who wanted to use it for their own selfish reasons, our family could be in danger. Not just our family, even our friends could be used to get to us."
Austin shook his head. "Dad, you sound like a super-hero worried that revealing your secret identity could get your girlfriend killed."
Jennifer chimed in. "Dad is right Austin." She said. "I know it sounds crazy, like from a stupid movie, but I don't want any of us getting hurt by this damn thing. I think we should just leave it up here, or set it off into space, and move on and forget all about it." Then she paused, and thought about what Frank said. "Oh my God, we have to make sure Amber is okay!"
The Turbo-lift opened and they all walked onto the bridge. Austin was amazed and walked around and surveyed the entire bridge. Frank stood with Jennifer and put his hands on her shoulders.
"I'm sure Amber is okay honey." Frank said. "I doubt anyone knows exactly who is up on this ship (see last issue to know that isn't quite true). She still has an hour or two of school left. Once she gets home we can beam her up here."
Jennifer shook her head. "Didn't you hear what I said?" Jennifer came back with. "We have to get off this thing, let it go, and not come back. I know how amazing this thing is to you, but our family is more important than this."
Frank nodded in agreement. "I know it is honey." He told her. "But this has happened for a reason. We can run from it, and go on with our lives as you said. But Austin isn't completely wrong on this either. We could find a way to help change the world, make something good happen from all of this."
Jennifer hugged her husband tight. Then she looked at him.
"Okay, John Denver" she said to him, "but the moment it looks like we're losing control, I want you to promise me you will walk away from this if I ask you to."
She kissed her. "You have a deal."
They both watched as their son looked around the bridge. As they did, she reached down and squeezed Frank's ass, through is jeans. He looked to her, and she gave him a sexy smile. Frank looked to Austin.
"Austin, I'm going to show mom around the ship for about a half hour. Don't touch anything. If anything happens," he pointed at a button on Kirk's command chair, "I think this button activates the ship wide PA system."
"Okay, I will." Austin said as sat at the helm.
"I mean it," Frank warned Austin again, "don't touch anything."
"Okay, I heard you." Austin said again.
Frank and Jennifer stepped into the Turbo-lift. Moments later they walked into Captain Kirk's quarters.
"Is this Kirk's room?" Jennifer asked.
"It is." Frank said as the two looked around. "This is where he bedded a few of the women on the show."
"But that was all a TV show." Jennifer said in a sexy tone. "None of that was real." She added.
Frank turned around to face her, only to find she had already slipped off her shirt, and bra. He became aroused as he watched her slip off her shorts, revealing a very sexy pair of all white cotton panties; his favorite to see her wearing.
"I thought it was that time of the month." He said softly as he watched her slide on to the bed, with only her panties on.
"No, it was over yesterday." She told him. "That is why I wore these today." She said as she slid her hand across her tight stomach and into her panties, followed by his eyes the whole way. "Now, are you going to stand there like Captain Picard and do nothing?" She asked. "Or, are you going to give me a spanking like Captain Kirk!" She rolled over on her stomach, and rose up on her knees and elbows, offering a nice view of her panty-clad rear end.
"Hmmmm," He said as he began to take off his own clothes. "So you have been paying attention to the differences of the Captains." He said with a smile as he slid onto the bed next to his wife.
And as Frank Grayson and his wife engaged with foreplay before making love on the bed of Captain Kirk, and as their son marveled as he sat in Captain Kirk's command chair on the bridge, none of them knew the entire truth. For despite what Frank believed, they were not the only life forms aboard the USS ENTEPRISE.
Hero Worship by RobertScorpio
LIU FONG'S JET: SOMEWHERE OVER THE PACIFIC OCEAN
The jet was four hours from its destination; Denver Colorado.
Liu Fong, member of the secret Chinese sect known as Nine Dragons, feeling freshened after a little nap, enjoyed a bowl of cereal; Total Raisin Bran. He truly believed this cereal was all a person needed to live a healthy life. He was busy reading the USA TODAY as he ate his modest breakfast.
The Jet had stopped over in Honolulu for fuel. While there, Fong's assistant, Wei-Chun, saw to it that the current American newspapers were brought aboard.
Liu Fong liked the USATODAY the best. It was nothing short than a microcosm of Americana. He would always start with the sports section, he had a soft spot in his heart for the Los Angeles Dodgers, then the life section, just to get a grip on what the American culture was being attracted to. Then, after that was done, he would read the front section to see where American policy was headed in public, and what, if anything, could be reasoned from it all. After reading the paper he realized that, as usual, the American public was being diverted from real issues by sideshow stories about a Polygamist sect in Texas, and the ongoing problems of Rihanna and Chris Brown. Wei-Chun came into the seating area of the jet.
"Sir, we just got a signal from Beijing. The resources will be available by the time we land in America." Wei-Chun said.
Lee Fong looked up from his USATODAY.
"That is very good news indeed." He contemplated what was to come. "The little girl may actually get the chance to live, if her father does as we ask of him."
"And if he doesn't?" Wei-Chun asked.
"Then she will die." Fong said with a frown. "Some of my critics in Beijing may think this course of action is not honorable. But, in the end," Fong said as he sipped on a glass of orange juice, "no act that leads to China's survival is dishonorable."
Wei-Chun bowed once, and then headed out of the seating area. Liu Fong went back to reading the USATODAY.
THREE HOURS LATER
NORAD COMMAND; ROCKY MOUNTAINSCONFERENCE ROOM J-47
General Drake Morton, Major Irv Wilson and Lt. Leonard Jackson all sat down around the large table in the conference room adjacent to the General's office. They were preparing for a classified call from the Pentagon, and the Pentagon wanted answers. Major Wilson handed the General talking points for the coming meeting.
"What am I looking at?" Gen. Morton asked, as he sipped on a cup of coffee.
Before Maj. Wilson could answer, local news reporter Angela Hanes came into the room as well.
"Can I help you?" Major Wilson asked, as he stood up to greet the very attractive reporter.
She looked a little dazed, but she didn't let that stop her. "So, from what I gather, this USS Enterprise is the real deal."
Maj. Wilson nodded. "Yes, it is." He told her. "And to answer your next question; it isn't ours."
"It isn't ours; yet." General Morton corrected him, as he read the talking notes.
Hanes walked over and sat in one of the seats across from Gen. Morton. Without missing a beat, she continued. "General Morton; is this why my cameraman and I are not being allowed to leave?" She let her anger come through her words slightly. "I have a two year daughter with my mom. If I don't pick her up in about," she looked at the clock, "two hours, my mom is going to get worried."
Gen. Morton looked up from the paper, nodded his head at Major Wilson, and then turned his attention toward the young woman, "Its policy, Ms. Hanes." He told her. "I'm sorry about your little girl, but Maj. Wilson will see to it that she is picked up from your mother's home and taken a secure location. We will also contact your station and, well, they won't be missing you either. Now Ms. Hanes, if you play your cards right this could be the story of a life time." He added with a smile.
"And quite a feather in your ball cap as well." She threw back at him.
He nodded with a devious smile. "I see we understand each other." He looked over to Maj. Wilson and winked. "So, Major Wilson; are these the talking points you want me to give a Five Star General?"
Angela Hanes took out her notepad and started to take notes. She looked over to Morton. "Can my cameraman at least start getting some of this on tape? Someday the decisions you make here during this situation might be important for historians."
Morton agreed. "Very well," Morton said to her, he looked over to Lt. Jackson, "please have one of the airmen retrieve her cameraman, and have him brought here."
"Yes sir." Lt. Jackson replied, and he headed toward the exit of the conference room to do as ordered.
"Oh," Morton added before Jackson had made it out the door, "have the laundry press my dress uniform. I want it done in fifteen minutes or there will be hell to pay."
"Yes sir." Jackson added as he darted out the door.
General Morton began to read his talking points. "So let me get this straight, Major Wilson," Morton began to say, he took a deep drag off his cigar, and then he continued. "This ship is nearly 290 meters in length, has a crew of over 400, can reach a top speed of Warp 9, and is outfitted with Photon-torpedoes, phasers, Transporter Rooms, and force fields, and apparently, a recently acquired Cloaking Device."
Maj. Wilson nodded slowly. "Yes sir."
Gen. Morton continued, reading from the notes. "Several hours ago it obliterated one of our DiVAQ missiles with one of these a Photon-torpedoes, and then we lost sight the ship after it activated the Cloaking Device."
Ms. Hanes shook her head as she wrote it all down in shorthand. "That's' pretty amazing material." Angela Hanes said with a slight laugh, and then she looked up at the General, who was looking back at her with a cold glare. "Sorry sir." She said, trying to regain her composure.
"That about sums it up sir." Maj. Wilson said to the General.
"You do know it sounds," Morton said as he exhaled some smoke, "FUCKING UNBELIEVABLE!"
Angela Hanes was startled by the outburst, but Maj. Wilson was not.
Morton reclaimed his composure, and looked over to Hanes. "Sorry about that Ms. Hanes," Morton said, "but I feel like a complete fool reading something like this." He said as he slapped the piece of paper down on the desk.
She nodded her head. "It's actually a character defining moment. Too bad it wasn't on film. My friend's grandfather actually interviewed General Patton during World War II. And from what I heard about it, Patton was very prone to outbursts like that."
Morton smiled at the comparison. "I like you Ms. Hanes. Next time I have an outburst, and if your camera-man is here, have him film the left side of my face. I think I look more stoic from that angle."
"I'll remember to tell him that." She smiled back.
Wilson looked down at a flashing light on the table top.
"Sir," Wilson said, "the call is coming in from the Joint Chiefs."
Morton stopped him from answering the call. "Jesus Christ, Maj. Wilson! Don't answer it; not yet!"
Maj. Wilson, was about to press the button, next to the light, stopped from pressing it at the last moment, "Why?" He asked.
"Because I want that fucking camera man to get his ass down here and I want to be wearing my dress uniform, before I talk to the Joint Chiefs. This is my moment, our moment, Major." Morton said. "And I want to live it up as much as I can. Who knows," he said as he looked over to Angels Hanes, "I might have an outburst or two."
Maj. Wilson nodded. "Very well sir." Wilson agreed, wondering, inside his mind, how someone like General Wilson was not in a padded cell somewhere.
General Wilson puffed on his Cuban made cigar, and then he looked over to Angela. "I'm going to say something profound, so jot this down in your notebook." Morton told her.
She nodded to him. "Go ahead, I'm ready."
Morton stood up and put his hand on his heart for a second, as he gazed at the American Flag that was proudly displayed in the corner of the room. "No greater honor can come from serving this great nation. We have our problems now and then, but let this be said," he said as relit his cigar, while eyeing the fire sprinkler system nearby, "there is no power, short of God, in this universe as mighty as the United States Air Force!"
Deep In space…
Meanwhile, at that very moment, trillions upon trillion upon even more trillions of miles away, deep into the vast reaches of space; the Romulan Bird of Prey was motionless. Commander N'vraln had ordered the ship to a complete stop until all systems were back on line, and readied for whatever was to come next. Nearly two cycles had passed, and the crew was getting restless. But N'vraln did not feel restless at all. James Kirk was a legend, and not only to the Romulans; but to the Klingons, Gorn and Tholians as well. Kirk was not to be taken lightly.
The reports that his officers were handing him, as the data kept coming in from the various science stations, was thoroughly unbelievable. The sensors could not get an exact grip as to where their position was. For all intents and purposes it was as if they had slipped through a door and into another universe. But if that was true, then where was the Enterprise? Where was Kirk's ship? These were questions he did not have answers to; now.
But he did know one thing. One of the Centurions was able to beam over to the Enterprise before what ever happened, happened. There was a good chance that the Centurion survived Transport, and was undetected, somewhere aboard the Enterprise. N'vraln smiled at that prospect…and he was right!
Raise the Curtain by RobertScorpio
Kiefer Sutherland as Frank Grayson
Jonathan Jackson as Austin Grayson
Evangeline Lilly as Jennifer Grayson
Jeff Bridges as General Drake Morton
Mark Valley as Major Irv Wilson
Will Smith as Lt. Leonard Jackson
Teresa Castillo as Television Reporter Angela Hanes
John Cusack as Narrenson
Kirsten Storms as Sally Inglehopper
Morgan Freeman as General Augustus Brown
Frank Grayson stood at the control panel of Transporter Machine. He was readying to beam his daughter, Amber, up to the ship. The past several hours had become a blur, but Frank, and his wife and son, were aboard a real-life version of the famed fictional ship; USS ENTERPRISE. How this had come to be, Frank could not be sure. But one thing he knew; someone down Earth, the U.S. Government it would appear, knew there was a real Enterprise in space. A failed attempt to shoot down the Enterprise almost became a tragedy. But, for now, it was averted.
"Are you sure you know how to do this?" Jennifer asked nervously.
"I beamed you two up with no problems." Franks said to her, to calm her down.
Frank and Jennifer, and their sixteen year old son Austin found the entire situation fascinating. "Dad, remember the movie The Fly when it turned that monkey inside out; could that happen to Amber?"
"Oh my God!" Jennifer said upon hearing Austin's words.
Frank looked angrily to Austin. "Shut up Austin. You're talking about your sister!"
"I know," Austin said with a laugh. "Besides that shit never happened on Star Trek." Then he pondered for a moment. "Well, until the first movie."
"Be quiet." Frank demanded.
"Maybe she'll get transported to an alternate universe." Austin said, with a slightly excited voice, feeling for a goatee that didn't exist on his face.
"Besides Austin, I thought you didn't even like Star Trek, mister 'Hon-Solo could kick Captain Kirk's butt." Frank said as he adjusted two of the controls.
"Well, he could." Austin added.
"No way," Frank said under his breath, "not a chance. Now," Frank said to them both, "please be quiet as I do this, I have to concentrate." Frank said as he reached for the sliding bar controls of the Enterprise's Transporter Machine.
Earth...just outside the home of Frank Grayson
Sally Inglehopper was in pure heaven. The school-dance was over, and Austin had brought her home after a wonderful time. They had shared a wonderful dinner, with lavish service. He had also taken her on a horse and buggy ride through downtown San Diego's Gas-Lamp district. There was even a stroll along the boardwalk, just beyond the old Beaumont Park roller coaster. This was, no doubt, the greatest moment in her life.
And now, here they were. The two love birds were standing on the porch of her house, preparing to say goodnight. Austin held her soft hands in his, and his eyes were full of lust for her.
"You looked very dashing tonight in that tuxedo." Sally said as he held her close. She could tell that feeling her ample breasts, pressed up against his strong chest, had pleased Austin; the love of her life.
"And not a single girl at the dance radiated with as much beauty as you." Austin said. "I love you Sally, and I have wanted, for so long, to share a moment like this with you, and to have it end like this." He moved his mouth closer to her mouth. She tilted her head to the right, and gazed into his eyes.
Overcome by excitement, and hormones, Sally closed her eyes in total anticipation, and then she opened them and woke up. The dance had all just been a dream, one of many she had of Austin over the years. She looked around as she regained her composure. She wasn't on her porch. She was on her back, on the side of the Grayson's house, next to where they kept their trashcans. Then she remembered. Earlier she had seen Austin smash the police-car, so she came over to see what Austin was up to. She was then spying on both Austin, and his mother when suddenly, they dissolved away.
She must have fainted, Sally surmised. Then, suddenly she heard noises. She got back up, and looked into the window again. Austin and his mom were gone, the living room, at least the part she could see, was empty. Then she heard a voice. It was Austin's younger sister, Amber. She had just gotten home from school. Sally envied Amber. Austin no doubt walked around the house in all sorts of semi-nude combinations. Sally's mouth watered at the thought, when suddenly she could see Amber in the living room. The young girl was talking on her cell phone, and then she plopped down on the couch where Austin's mom had been sleeping in earlier.
Sally was about to leave, when suddenly Amber's body started to shimmer, just as Austin's had earlier, and then, just like Austin and his mom, Amber dissolved away. Sally's eyes rolled up into her head and she fainted again.
A NON-DESCRIPTIVE BUIDLING IN THE MIDDLE OF A LARGE CITY; SOME WHERE IN THE USA; SECRET HEADQUARTERS OF "EIGHT"
Narrenson stood in the secured room that housed The Server. Just to the right of the Server, a representation of what was happening, high in Earth's orbit, was being, for lack of better words, projected for three dimensionally Narrenson to view.
A globe of energy, no larger than a soccer ball, and no more than a foot away from Narrenson, could be seen. Inside the globe of energy was what appeared to be the USS ENTERPRISE from Star Trek. And just at that moment, the globe of energy vanished, but the ship remained. And then, a small stream of energy stretched out from the Server, and toward ship.
Narrenson's hands glided over the virtual keyboard before him, and he keyed in some commands. He looked at the virtual monitor. The Server had analyzed the strange energy pattern, and confirmed Narrenson's suspicion. It was indeed some form of teleportation. Then, as fast as it had disappeared, the globe of energy returned and surrounded the ship as the 'beaming' ended.
A few more keyed command strokes also confirmed Narrenson's other suspicion. Who ever had just been teleported up to the ship had been teleported from the home of Frank Grayson. Narrenson shut down the Server. He had all the info he needed; for now. He walked toward the exit, and rode up the elevator. He then rode up the second elevator, and soon left the old brick building. He had much work to do. Narrenson was well aware of what was going on at Norad, concerning the strange ship in space. And he was also pretty sure the Chinese Nine Dragons were already aware of the situation as well.
What it meant was this; American, and Earth's very survival could be hanging in the balance.
But he also had another thought; it had happened again. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened!
NORAD COMMAND...the Rockie Moutains
General Drake Morton, General Irv Wilson, Lt. Leonard Jackson, news-reporter Angela Hanes and cameraman Brock Lennon all stared up at the large screen as the image of the Chairman of Joint Chiefs of Staff was projected. The Five Star General, who was in Washington DC at the Pentagon, was busy on the phone, and would speak to them when his call had finished.
Lt. Wilson was sitting next to Angela Hanes. He was showing her a picture of his daughter, Shyawna, telling about the condition of his little girl.
"She is so beautiful." Angela said as she looked at the picture. "I'm so sorry."
Lt. Jackson smiled, but it was clear it was hurting him inside. "My wife and I are praying for a miracle. You never know." Jackson said.
Angela nodded her head in agreement. At that moment the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Augustus Brown, finally faced the camera for the briefing.
The Chairman was a Five-star General, and he was highly decorated. The ribbons that adorned his uniform were nothing short of stunning. It was clear to all, he was as serious as it came, but also very friendly.
"Drake, it's been too long," Gen. Brown said to Gen. Morton, "When are you going to come out of that hole in the ground you call a base and visit Stella and me?" Gen. Brown asked with a warm smile, referring to his wife Stella.
Gen. Morton smiled back at his old friend. "Just as soon as you and Stella come out west and go duck hunting with me and Veronica and the boys. It's been too long." Morton replied.
"Too long," Gen. Brown nodded in agreement. He quickly got on point. "What do you have for me Drake? What are we dealing with up there?"
Gen. Norton looked over to Maj. Wilson first, then down to his talking notes. "I know this will make me a candidate for a padded wall," Morton began today, "but it would appear as if there is a," he paused to collect his words, "highly advanced Constitution-class Starship in orbit of this planet."
Gen. Brown nodded his head. "We have been getting the images from the recons too." Gen. Brown said. "And it would appear as if we owe a debt of gratitude to whatever that thing is up there. We almost lost the space station." Gen. Brown paused to read a note he was just handed. "Do we have any idea where the damn thing went?"
Norton shook his head. "No Augustus, we don't. But we are pretty sure it is still up there. One of our sweeps picked it for a few seconds about fifteen minutes ago but we couldn't get a fix. But it's still up there, that much we are sure of." Morton said. He looked over to Hanes and winked, and then Camera man, making sure he was filming the meeting, and then added, "But we're ready to kick some ass if it comes to that. There's only one superpower on this planet and it's the God damned US of A, not Sergeant Kirk!"
"You mean Captain Kirk." Gen. Brown corrected Morton. "I get your meaning. However, I just got off the phone with the Secretary of Defense. You are not to take any offensive actions toward whatever that thing is, again, without direct approval from White House."
"But why," Morton said, a little disappointed, "that's what we're here for; it's our main duty Augustus."
Gen. Augustus Brown frowned. "I know Drake, I know. But Washington is having a hard time keeping this under wraps. The Chinese and Russians are already suspicious as to what is going on. And for all we know," Gen. Brown paused so his words could have better effect, "we all saw what this thing can do. What if it attacks us back?
"Then we blow it out of the sky!" Morton replied.
Brown stared back with all the conviction he could. "What if we can't?" His words were filled with dread. "If this thing is even as powerful as I remember from watching that show on TV, we may not be able to even lay a scratch on in."
Morton had not considered the possibility. "I see your point." Morton agreed.
"Wait for further instructions, and keep us advised." Gen. Brown said.
Morton saluted his long time friend, and then the screen went dark. Morton collected his thoughts.
"Well, that wasn't inspiring." General Wilson said. "But then again, what can we do?"
Morton looked to the camera man, a young African-man, who couldn't be more than eighteen years old, who held the TV camera. His name was Brock Lennon.
"Did you get all that; son?" Morton asked.
Brock nodded his head. "Yes sir," Brock said, "and you looked very heroic indeed." The kid said with a smile, having remembered being told how to suck up to the General by Angela Hanes.
Morton looked to Maj. Wilson. "How did I come off?" Morton asked his second in command.
"Damn good sir." Wilson said with a nod. "Damn good indeed."
Morton puffed on his cigar. He was happy, he was in his element. And despite what his good friend Gen. Brown said, Morton considered the protection of the US of A his primary duty.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.