Stonerager Chronicles -

Stonerager Chronicles

By 2Charlie

This is a science fiction series that happens to include occasional erotic scenes. If you have not yet read previous chapters of this series, I highly recommend going back to do so before you read this chapter.

All characters in this story are of the age of majority.

Chapter 11

*****1600 Ship's Time, Day 57*****

Alisia accepted the observation watch from Pheebs as Crew X-Ray completed their watch turn-over to Crew Yankee. The Odyssey bridge, no longer cruising in stealth mode, was lit with a soft white hue, not too bright, and all her control surfaces shined in the ambient illumination. After a full day of patrolling the sector in the vicinity of Omega Centauri, they'd yet to detect any sign of the Oo'lan'Dang.

Alisia poured over sensor readings using the console at her observation station. Finally, locating what she'd been searching for, she waited for Lt. Carpizzi to complete her watch turnover from Lt. Galt. As soon as the young woman accepted the UI OOD watch, Carpizzi came to Alisia.

"Any special instructions for the watch, Commander?" the Rigellian trainee asked.

Bringing up the results from her previous search, Alisia gestured to the screen. "I've located a mineral-rich asteroid belt not far from here," she zoomed in on the scan results, panning them across the screen for Carpizzi to see. "It's still too far away to detect any vessels that might be in the area, but I'd like you to change our course, and have NAV plot a new heading to take us closer. Let's see if we can't find ourselves some Oo'lan'Dang mining vessels."

Grinning at the prospect of meeting a new alien species, Carpizzi nodded. "Can you forward that to my screen, please?"

With a light press on the panel, Alisia nodded. "Done."

Returning to the command chair, Carpizzi brought up the scan data on the console on the left armrest of the chair. Studying the data for a moment, she raised her head and addressed Lt. Abrams, "NAV, set a new course. Adjust our heading 30 degrees to port and descend ten degrees along the Z-axis. Let's see what's out there."

"Aye, sir. Thirty degrees to port by negative ten degrees on Zed axis," the navigator replied, the new course overlayed on the main viewscreen.

"On our new heading," Lt. Pierce interjected from HELM, "we should be in sensor range of the asteroid field within two hours, based on our current speed."

"Steady as she goes," Carpizzi muttered, settling in to observe the goings on surrounding her.

*****

Off watch, Dutch made his way to one of the multipurpose chambers just above the hangar bay. He wanted to test some theories about practical applications of interactive holotechnology. He'd been noodling on a concept over the past few days and was eager to test it out. Days earlier, while combing through various technologies from the Tao database, attempting to find something to address their current gap involving real-time, long-distance telecommunications, he came across mention of holotech and marked it for further review when time permitted.

Two days later, Miles was letting his thoughts wander during an observation watch. Suddenly, it occurred to him that it might be possible to bring essential skills and capabilities during an away mission by having some means to deploy and support them via a portable holographic matrix. Considering that his crew possessed no medical training, he decided to experiment with a holographic medic as his first effort.

The ship's medical bay essentially functioned via various automated capabilities, beginning with diagnostic and imaging capabilities, integrated with a specialized subset of the ship's AI, and included various treatment capabilities. Dutch just needed to determine how best he might deploy those capabilities into a portable form factor - something that possessed the knowledge and treatment capabilities of the med bay - but in a package that could be used away from the ship.

Dutch's first attempt at a prototype unit was a bit clunky. He started with a sphere about ten centimeters in diameter that was capable of self-propulsion, essentially rolling along in whatever path it needed to travel. The sphere responded to voice commands and could be instructed to follow a specific target. Tiny holoprojectors covered the sphere, capable of projecting a holographic image of a vague, faceless humanoid figure.

Epiphany struck when Dutch sat back after an hour or so and asked, "Prime, can you figure out a better way to get this to work?"

After several seconds, Prime responded, "Captain, perhaps it would be better in the future if you would articulate your intentions and, in doing so, guide me toward the desired outcome. I am vastly superior at combing through the many yottabytes of data we have accumulated from the combined sources of what we recovered from the Terran and iShan'tal warships, the data taken from the Noraxi vessel, the data gifted to us by the Tao Alliance, the data shared with us by the Rigellians, all on top of our original databases from circa 2125."

"Someone's feeling neglected," Dutch observed sarcastically.

"Unlikely," Prime countered. "Must I point out that your first partner is quite literally myself made corporeal?"

Sighing, Dutch opted to avoid this conversation. "Fair enough, I yield the point. What alternative would you propose?"

After several more moments, a technical schematic appeared on the screen before him, displaying something similar to what he'd been tinkering with, but smaller. It was no longer spherical but more of an obloid saucer shape. The device portrayed did not need to roll along at all, as accompanying specifications claimed it was capable of electrostatic propulsion, effectively enabling it to hover or fly omnidirectionally.

"And you can produce this, I take it?" Dutch challenged his AI companion.

"Of course," she replied cooly. "It would be a relatively simple matter to make this ubiquitously reconfigurable so that it could be multirole enabled, while still utilitarian in form."

"Okay," he shrugged, "how long to make a prototype unit?"

"I can have one ready before we get to the Oo'lan'Dang vessel," she claimed.

"What Oo'lan'Dang vessel?" he asked her, rising from his seat.

Just then, the boatswain's whistle sounded across the all-hands speakers, followed by Alisia's voice, "Captain to the bridge."

Shooting a skeptical glance at the console, he quipped, "Okay, get started," then turned and headed forward.

*****1830 Ship's Time, Day 57*****

Stepping onto the bridge, Dutch took a moment to absorb the activity. Alisia was still at the observation station, so whatever the matter was, it couldn't be that bad. Lt. Danielli Carpizzi was sitting calmly in the command seat, alertly observing the various stations as the other UI watch standers fed her data. On the main viewscreen, he could see that they were rapidly approaching a cluster of asteroids, and he could just barely make out what appeared to be an Oo'lan'Dang mining vessel nestled up close to one of the larger asteroids in the cluster.

"No response to our hails, sir," Jontalla Ironheart reported from her post at OPS. The lithe tribal woman was focused on her console, switching rapidly through views as she attempted to establish communications with the mining ship.

Noticing Dutch enter the bridge, Alisia stood and approached him, a slight frown creasing her beautiful features. "Captain, we received a distress call from the Oo'lan'Dang vessel we are approaching, but thus far, we have been unable to raise them on comms. The distress call continues to repeat at regular intervals, suggesting that it is automated."

"Any sign of other vessels in the area?" Dutch snapped immediately, turning to look at Lt. Edmund Piccolo at WEPS.

Piccolo, standing at perhaps 1.8 meters in height, was trim and athletic in stature, but darker in complexion than his name would suggest. That, coupled with his tightly curled dark hair, indicated perhaps some southern Mediterranean lineage in his heritage. Looking up from his console, he shook his head, addressing his response to the bridge as a whole, "No sign of other vessels in the vicinity."

From her post at the Science station, Zandile Cyara suddenly tensed, leaning close to peer at a fresh readout on her console. The woman's appearance, to Dutch's eye, was that of a person of African descent. Her skin was quite dark, her hair trimmed very short, its length measured in millimeters, but her figure was curvaceous, almost to the point of being voluptuous. "I'm picking up some anomalous readings from the asteroid adjacent to the Oo'lan'Dang vessel," the dark skinned woman reported tersely. "It almost appears as if some form of artificial habitat is in there - it's difficult to tell, as something seems to be interfering with the sensors."

Suddenly springing from her seat, Alisia rushed over to the Science station, urging the darker woman, "Show me!"

Dutch was immediately alert, based on his wife's actions.

"Damn," Alisia muttered under her breath, before raising her voice suddenly. "Lt. Carpizzi, break off our approach and hold us at this distance."

"Helm," Carpizzi immediately barked, "bring us to all stop."

"All stop, aye!" Pierce repeated from the helm, his fingers dancing over his controls.

"Raise shields!" Alisia continued, her eyes darting across the multiple screens. "WEPS, scan for tiny objects which might appear to be simple space dust or debris - there may be a cloud of them between us and the Oo'lan'Dang vessel."

Lt. Piccolo bent closer to his screen, fingers flying over his control surfaces. "Scanning," he responded, images whirring past, until he paused. "Got 'em," he confirmed suddenly. "Just over a thousand tiny particles, less than two centimeters in diameter, appear to be drifting from that ship toward ours."

"HELM, back us off, full impulse!" she barked, then pivoted to face Piccolo. "WEPS, send a Plasma Torpedo downrange, set to detonate in the midst of that spore cloud. Fire!"

"Torpedo away," Piccolo confirmed, turning to nod at Alisia.

The main viewscreen showed the weapon blaze quickly away from the Odyssey, headed in the general direction of the Oo'lan'Dang vessel. Perhaps a hundred kilometers before reaching the mining vessel, the warhead detonated, enveloping the nearby vicinity of space in its destructive wrath.

"Scan that area again," Alisia ordered tersely. "Let me know if there are any survivors."

When she turned back to him, Dutch raised his eyebrows in question, silently requesting an explanation. Alisia held up one finger, begging him to wait, and turned to Piccolo. "Anything?" she demanded.

"I do not see any indication of surviving particles," he said eventually, having repeated the task twice to be certain.

"Good," she released a breath in relief. "So, this is what we're looking at here," she began to explain, getting the attention of all the UI watch standers, as well as her Captain.

"More than a century ago," she began, "an invasive species began making its presence known in this sector of the galaxy. It's unknown where they came from, but they have demonstrated that they're opportunistic and malignant."

Pointing to the viewscreen, where the Oo'lan'Dang vessel appeared, she continued, "Those miners have all been consumed and replaced, at a genetic level, by a species known as the Tlylaxians."

Responding to the questioning looks on all their faces, Alisia pulled up a quick species description from the ship's library. Pointing to the image of the creatures displayed on the main screen, she continued, "Tlylaxians are a hybrid of fungi and insectoid lifeforms, and they do not procreate as normal species do. Instead, they propagate via infestation. They emit spores, which come into contact with a target organism and attack the telomeres of the unwitting host. Telomeres are the protein structures capable of editing DNA code. They normally dictate the purpose of cells or tissues, determining all the functions of every part of an organism. By repurposing hosts at the genetic level, the Tlylaxian spores mutate the organism into an approximation of a large insectoid creature - hideously strong and highly resistant to most known weapons. Intense heat can destroy them, as well as intense exposure to ionizing particles, but they can heal quickly from most other forms of attack. They have been known to place spore pods into areas where they can encounter other vessels and spread upon contact."

"And you believe that the miners aboard that ship...?" Dutch began, his eyes reflecting his bias against the notion of such a means of propagation.

"Lt. Cyara, please scan that vessel," Alisia requested. "Let me know the atmospheric composition. I'm especially concerned about the presence of ten- to fifteen-percent methane."

Cyara consulted the data on the readouts in front of her before reporting back, "Scanners indicate an atmosphere aboard that vessel composed of thirty-percent nitrogen, fifty-percent carbon dioxide, with about fifteen percent methane, and the rest a low mix of inert gases."

Turning back to Dutch, Alisia elaborated, "The Oo'lan'Dang, being heavy-gravity beings, require a higher percentage of oxygen than the eight percent or so we humans need. The Tlylaxian, however, are adapted to breathe higher amounts of methane."

Dutch looked to Lt. Cyara. "Do your scans reveal any pockets of oxygen-rich atmosphere anywhere on that vessel?"

Before the trainee could respond, Alisia stepped closer and spoke again. "Captain, even if we locate survivors, we cannot bring them aboard. If they are infected but have not yet transitioned, bringing them aboard the Odyssey would expose our crew to the same fate." With a haunted look in her eyes, she took a deep breath and shook her head sadly. "Standard protocol upon encountering such an infestation - at least in my prior service - was to annihilate the infected ship."

"What if we leave them be?" he wondered.

"The asteroid was the site of the original infestation," she explained. "Tlylaxians from another ship left a spore pod concealed in that asteroid in the hopes of just such an encounter. In the case of the mining vessel, eventually, the Tlylaxians will achieve sufficient familiarity with the ship to operate it. At that point, their primary motivation is to spread to a larger collection of host organisms. So, they would seek out the nearest inhabited planet and crash their ship upon it, essentially consigning the entire planetary biosphere to their infestation."

"Do we face a similar risk whenever we harvest asteroids for raw material?" Piccolo asked.

Turning to the trainee, Alisia smiled, acknowledging the sharpness of his question. "We do, which is why I added screening protocols for this scenario. Any indication of spore pods would automatically trigger an alert to the bridge crew."

Turning back to Dutch, she pressed home the point. "Captain, I urge you to destroy that vessel. Those miners are already gone. We cannot attempt any sort of rescue - the genetic transition process, once initiated, cannot be reversed. All that remains is to prevent further loss of life."

Dutch considered the situation for several moments, unhappy with his options, before turning to Piccolo. "WEPS, hit that ship with the particle cannon - make sure there's nothing left." Turning to his right, he continued, "OPS, prepare a message buoy - record a warning about the presence of Tlylaxian Spore Pods in this area, and drop the buoy."

"Prime, please capture all details that you can from that Oo'lan'Dang vessel," Dutch requested of the ship's AI. "I intend to send a communication to their government informing them of this situation."

Turning back to Alisia, he asked her, "Anything else you need me for?"

She slowly shook her head. "Not that I can think of, no. I'll make sure this gets covered thoroughly in the post-watch debriefing, and we'll spread the word to the other watch crews."

Nodding his head, he turned to depart the bridge. "I'll be back to relieve you at the top of the hour," he assured her as he closed the hatch behind him.

*****2130 Ship's Time, Day 57*****

"Looks like we've found one," Lt. Perlstein called out from her post at OPS.

Nodding to herself, Lt. Torres calmly turned to her helmsman. "Lt. Galt, please put us in an optimum firing position for that spore pod."

"OPS, any sign of a spore cloud?" Torres calmly asked Perlstein.

"Negative," the young woman replied after rechecking her instruments. "I'm guessing they have a proximity fuse, and don't release until the target vessel comes within a certain range.

"Odyssey is now in optimum firing position, sir," Lt. Galt calmly reported from HELM.

"Very good. Mr. Ironheart, send it," Torres ordered her Navigator.

"Firing particle cannon, sir," Lt. Ironheart quipped from his station as a rapid staccato of energy bolts leaped from beneath the bridge, quickly coalescing where the spore pod sat tucked into the asteroid.

The resulting explosion was brief but impressive, as the asteroid was reduced to rubble.

Lt. Perlstein peered at her readouts for several moments before looking up. "No sign of spores, sir. The pod and its contents have been destroyed."

"Good work, people," Torres complimented her crew. "Let's continue the hunt. There's likely more to be found."

Checking the chronometer on his panel, Dutch returned to his crew evaluation report. Barring unforeseen events, this was his final watch rotation with Crew Zulu, and he wanted to document his evaluations of their performance while the impressions were fresh in his memory.

Wrapping up the report, Dutch returned to an effort he'd begun a few days prior: evaluating the other Terran colonies. He was seeking inspiration for which colony to visit next. He'd considered visiting Methos next, if only to seek out what scientific advantages the system might offer to address some of his most significant gaps, such as real-time communications over long distances. His desire to acquire better comms competed with the desire to liberate more colonies from the ongoing predations by the Noraxi Syndicate.

The iShan'tal were ever-present in his thoughts as well. Sooner or later, he would have to bring the treaty before the Battle Masters to see whether or not they were open to applying it after all these years, especially in the face of their 'victory' over the Terrans. He would prefer to be able to share his improved technology with more of the surviving humans beforehand, but he was also aware that the Noraxi were likely going to press matters before he was ready.

Ultimately, he acknowledged that communication needed to be his priority. Following that, he would enlist the Rigellians to help expand contact with the other human colonies, but he himself must confront the Battle Masters. This was his gambit, and he believed that his origins, which predated the conflict, made him the perfect emissary to the reclusive zealots.

As the end of the watch approached, Dutch completed his crew evaluations, made note in his personal log of his decision to visit Methos next, and also noted his desire to communicate with Prime Minister T'chark sometime the following day regarding the loss of his mining vessel and crew, as well as the danger posed by the Tlylaxian spore pods.

As Dutch closed out his log entries, Jjan'tira arrived to relieve him. Moments later, Crew Whiskey entered the bridge to conduct their turnover with Crew Zulu. Dutch conveyed to Jjan'tira the desire to spend the next half-day searching this region for any additional spore pods - it gave the crew a good task to perform while providing the opportunity to top off the ship's solid matter reserves in the process.

Giving Jjan'tira a quick kiss, Dutch left the bridge to head to the briefing room. Crew Whiskey had left them a large steaming kettle of stew, filled with delicious-smelling meats and vegetables suspended in a beefy broth. Grabbing a large bowl of stew, a large bread roll, and a tumbler of cola, Dutch sat and ate quickly, giving Crew Zulu time to serve themselves and eat before he led the post-watch debriefing.