Arr Chronicles: The Final Frontier (Part 1)

[Sonnenburg]

Arr Chronicles: The Final Frontier (Part 1)
by Chuck Sonnenburg & Scott Gordee

The Confederation Starship USS Arr hung over the alien world the same way that bricks don’t. It soared through its orbit smoothly, it’s gracious curves glistening in the sunlight in a decidedly un-brick-like manner. On the bridge, Captain Buck Random, commander of this vessel, completes their latest mission involving contact with an alien race. For a change, there had been little bloodshed.
“And we hope the high priestess understands that it was all just a big misunderstanding. On our planet commenting on a woman’s physical appearance is considered a polite compliment.”
“No it’s not,” Armstrong grumbled.
“Shut up, I almost have big-ass convinced.” He threw his hands in frustration as the screen switched from the angered alien to a view of the planet.
“They’ve cut the transmission, craphead,” Bambi Hyde remarked from communications. This being a special occasion, she wore her dress bathrobe on the bridge.
“Well, it’s in the hands of the diplomats now,” Random said, taking his seat. “Set in a course for Stardock.”
“Aye sir,” said Buddy Steele from the helm. Space shifted as the Arr broke orbit and vanished into hyperspace.
“And another successful offending of a new species by Captain Random,” Nonek remarked smugly. “Keep that streak alive, captain!”
“’Mission of peace,’” Random spat as if the words meant the same as scrubbing out a toilet. “We should be out enforcing the peace… our kind of peace!”
“You mean promoting the peace,” Armstrong, his first officer, remarked.
“Yes.”
“You know,” Armstrong remarked with clearly strained patience, “finding the common ground is the first step towards peace.”
“Is that so,” Random said with complete disinterest.
“Frankly, captain, if you’d bothered finding it this mission would have been a success.”
“Bah! They were obviously pre-disposed towards conflict.”
“You’re pre-disposed towards conflict.”
“So I oughta know,” Random said irritably.
“Diplomatic missions aren’t easy, sir, but every effort should be made to find that common ground. With empathy and patience, there should never be a failed first contact.”
“Watch your tongue,” Nonek remarked, gyrating with self-satisfaction inside his jar. “The captain isn’t afraid to try what other’s say is impossible, even if it means failing a mission. We salute you, sir, and you remain an inspiration to all of us who set our sites so incredibly low.”
“Well said,” Random said with enthusiasm. “Your high morale is important in keeping this ship running as well as it does. And that’s why I’m happy to announce that I’m promoting you… to the new post of Comic Relief, Senior Grade.”
“Congratulations,” Bambi said with a voice that sounded like gargling gravel before taking a drink from her mug. “Your mother must be proud.”
If it was possible for a brain to look shocked, Nonek was doing his best. “Excuse me?” he said as the fluid drained out of his tank and onto the floor below his jar, then refilled from some unknown location.
Random laughed heartily. “You know I love that trick! You’ve been long overdue for this promotion.”
“Are you insan- wait, foolish question, of course you are. I’m your science officer… I can multi-task seven thousand operations at once-“
“Good, you can do both!” And with that Random rose and exited the room, leaving the rest of the bridgecrew to enjoy Nonek’s grumbling for the rest of the trip back to Stardock.

Several hours later Commander Lance Armstrong found himself in the shuttle bay waiting for the arrival of the latest addition to their crew. “Why didn’t they just wait for us to drydock?” he asked Buddy as the ship came into sight.
“They asked us not to,” Buddy remarked. “They said they were full.”
“Stardock? How can Stardock be full?”
“I don’t ask those kinds of questions, sir, but they were quite adamant, and by adamant, I mean they threatened to fire on us.”
“Full you say,” Armstrong remarked as the shuttle passed through the force field and set down on the pad. The door hissed open and the two watched a buxom young woman step onto the deck. Armstrong stepped forward, extending a hand to the new officer. “Welcome aboard the USS Arr, I’m first officer Lance Armstrong.”
“Greetings,” she said as she shook his head. “Commander Sonja Taykinitov.”
“Yes, I read your file when the captain told me you were being added to the crew. You’re from Minsk?”
“Yes,” she said as Buddy slipped past and began examining the shuttle. “You familiar with it?”
“My grandmother was Russian, I’d know the accent anywhere.” He started leading her towards the turbolift. “The captain said you’d whip the crew into shape.”
“Well, I don’t know about that, but I’ll do my best to improve morale. In the meantime, we should see the captain; I have our orders.”
The trip to the captain was unusually uneventful, but that ended once the introductions were completed. “What kind of a disciplinarian are you?” Random bellowed after he looked at her file.
“Well, I’m not,” Sonja said diplomatically. “But I can see you were expecting someone besides a counselor. I’m afraid that I can’t quite help in the way you’re thinking. But with my telepathic skills I can help your crew deal with their problems that may be affecting their work.” Armstrong looked at Random rather smugly.
“Such as?” Random said irritably.
“Well,” she looked Armstrong over. “I can tell he can use a great deal of my help.”
It took a second before the words sunk in. “’Scuse me?” Armstrong said.
“I’m afraid you’re a rather open book. You suffer from a fear of turbolifts, of doctors, and you clearly view your crewmates with suspicion and mistrust. You also seem to take perverse pleasure in the captain’s mistake.”
“But…” Armstrong seemed to search for the words. “If you knew these people-“
“I understand; you’re paranoia seems very real to you. Trust me, we’ll work through it. But not now. Captain, Admiral Roscoe has a priority mission for your crew.” Minutes later the group was gathered onto the bridge along with the rest of the senior officers. “I’m afraid I have grave news,” Sonja said. “The Confederation flagship has vanished without a trace.”
There was an audible gasp amongst the crew. “The USS Entrepreneur?” Buddy said with shock.
“Yes,” Sonja said sadly, “the finest ship in the fleet.”
“That explains why we were assigned the diplomatic mission,” Armstrong said. “Captain John Frenchy would have been completed it easily.”
“He’s bald you know,” Random grumbled. The crew turned to look at him. “I’ve seen him. Bald as a bulkhead.”
“Yes,” Sonja said, finding it a point difficult to argue against. “Naturally command is keeping a tight lid on this for the moment, but it won’t last. Our orders are to travel to the Entrepreneur’s last known coordinates and see if we can determine what happened… whether it’s merely disabled, or destroyed.”
“Low testosterone causes baldness,” Random remarked.
“Any idea what we can expect?” Armstrong asked.
“None. Not even a ship in distress signal was received.”
“With a situation this dangerous, captain,” Armstrong said, “I suggest we go to red alert.”
“That smug expression below that huge shining dome of his…” Random muttered to himself, oblivious to the conversation.
“I’d also suggest running holographic simulations of all possible scenarios,” Armstrong added to the conversational black hole.
“Good idea,” Nonek remarked. “Given the lack of data I would estimate that such a run-down would take about two years. But not to worry, I’ll get onto it right away.”
“I’ll run several battle drills as well,” Johnny Riprock remarked in a surprising display of clarity.
“Ensign,” Armstrong said, deciding to address the only person who might be listening, “set course for the last known coordinates.”

The trip through hyperspace was uneventful, but by no means without incident. The specific incidents were those concocted by Nonek.
“And in scenario 128, the entire crew is turned into sheep.” A small holographic projection showed the results. “The ship is overwhelmed within six minutes.”
“Oo, that’s longer than we held out as beach balls,” Buddy remarked with satisfaction.
“Of course, once again the solution is a multi-phasic sub-harmonic shielding around the ship, which unfortunately, no cloved creature could accomplish. Barring the Seltorian Yak, of course, which developed the technology to churn its own butter due to its prehensile nasal limbs.”
“Perhaps your studies should be on things more relevant,” Armstrong remarked through his teeth.
“Scenario 129: the crew is infected with a disease that causes them to simulate drunken behavior and then travel through time. The solution: drinks all around. And a multi-phasic sub-harmonic shielding around the ship, of course.”
“Of course,” Sonja remarked, perhaps beginning to understand the asylum she had been assigned to.
“If the Entrepreneur is given up for lost,” Capt. Random thought aloud, “would we go on to be the flagship?”
“It’s – possible,” Sonja conceded.
Random nodded. “Don’t overdue it on the sensors, Nonek.”
Ignoring him, Nonek continued. “Scenario 130: a large spontaneous choreographed musical number breaks out. Scenario 130-A involves a George and Ira Gershwin type romp, in stark contrast to Scenario 130-A-prime, similar but with a style akin to the Muppet Show.”
“All right!” Armstrong said, letting a month of pent up frustration show through. “I get the point! It was a bad idea! Now quit wasting ti-“
“Captain,” Sonja interrupted suddenly, a look of horror on her face. “There’s something here.”
“…with a hint of the piccolo,” Nonek continued without pause.
“There’s definitely a presence,” Sonja said, standing up and looking around the room in abject terror. “I sense an intelligence, more powerful and more advanced than anything I’ve ever felt.”
“It’s nice to be noticed,” Nonek remarked. “Moving on…”
“No. Captain, it’s some kind of lifeform, and we may all be in danger.”
“I sense nothing,” Nonek remarked. “Now, for Scenario 130-C…” He trailed off for a moment before continuing. “I think it would go something like this.”
http://www.sfdebris.com/gallery/onib.mp3
From out of nowhere came the distant sound of echoing drumbeats, quickly overlaid by primitive synthesizer. The bridgecrew found themselves unable to leave their seats, unable to even speak as the music continued. The turbolift doors opened and two lines of security guards came walking out across the bridge. Sonja, her expression changed to a kind of vacuous smile, joined them in their line. Incredibly, they began singing in chorus, gyrating in primitive dance moves involving pelvic thrusts and tearing their shirts open.
“One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble
Not much between despair and ecstasy
One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble
Can't be too careful with your company
I can feel the devil walking next to me.”
As the singing stopped two powerful chords were heard. Even as they finished, Nonek, jar and all, came sliding into the center of the group. He didn’t sing so much as chant his lines, but that did nothing to make it sound less horrific as his brain stem swung with the rhythm.
“Bangkok, Oriental setting
And the city don't know that the city is getting
The creme de la creme of the chess world in a show with everything but Yul Brynner.”
He paused, taking a moment to perform a sickening pirouette, stem still swinging. The audience’s face was one of horror, except for Random who seemed to be enjoying himself.
“Time flies - doesn't seem a minute since the Tirolean spa had the chess boys in it
All change - don't you know that when you play at this level there's no ordinary venue.
It's Iceland... or the Philippines... or Hastings... or... or this place!”
The security crew’s dance moves became even more active and carnal as they continued their refrain.
“One night in Bangkok and the world's your oyster
The bars are temples but the pearls ain't free
You'll find a god in every golden cloister
And if you're lucky then the god's a she
I can feel an angel sliding up to me.” Nonek resumed his place in front of the group, hovering right next to the undulating Sonja.
“One town's very like another when your head's down over your pieces, brother.”
Sonja retorted seductively.
“It’s a drag, it's a bore, it's really such a pity
To be looking at the board, not looking at the city.”
Nonek was indignant.
“Whaddya mean?! Ya seen one crowded, polluted, stinking town...”
Two female security guards stepped right up to the audience like naughty Japanese school girls.
“Tea, girls, warm, warm, sweet, sweet
Some are set up in the Somerset Maugham suite.”
Nonek remained indignant.
“Get Thai'd! You're talking to a tourist
Whose every move's among the purest.”
As Sonja seductively stroked his jar the brain turned away.
“I get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine.”
The sickening refrain kicked in again, the assorted performers somehow managing to become even more debauch than they’d been. As the singing stopped they formed a line and began riverdancing. The viewscreen behind them showed flashing lights while smoke rolled across the bridge. The line split and Nonek slipped back into the center of the room to continue his chant.
“Siam's gonna be the witness
To the ultimate test of cerebral fitness
This grips me more than would a
Muddy old river or reclining Buddha
And thank God I'm only watching the game, controlling it.”
His voice took on a queer tone, as if he were mock scolding in some naughty S&M fantasy, which given the performers might not be far from the truth.
“I don't see you guys rating
The kind of mate I'm contemplating
I'd let you watch, I would invite you
But the queens we use would not excite you
So you better go back to your bars, your temples, your massage parlours…”
With full fury the group took up the chorus again. Behind them those members of the crew not performing saw that this spectacle wasn’t limited to the bridge. The engineers were at that moment gyrating in the manner that the overly nerdish tended towards, almost like a horde of Harold Green clones had escaped from some horrific lab and decided to get funky. Crewmen on catwalks throughout the bowels of the ship moved with the choreography of an Oscar celebration, somehow managing to be even less artistic. In Exobiology, Mick Danger slow-danced with a bear.
“One night in Bangkok and the world's your oyster
The bars are temples but the pearls ain't free
You'll find a god in every golden cloister
A little flesh, a little history
I can feel an angel sliding up to me

One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble
Not much between despair and ecstasy
One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble
Can't be too careful with your company
I can feel the devil walking next to me.”
The music ended as quickly as it had begun. At the same moment that the performers started to realize they were finished, the audience could move once again. To say the atmosphere was uncomfortable would be a gross understatement as they all did their best to avoid making eye contact with anyone else.
Buddy broke the silence. “Okay, let’s try that multi-phasic shield thing,” he said as he hit some buttons on his panel, “and hope to hell that doesn’t happen again.”
Nonek screamed, then flushed the liquid out of his tank. The warm embrace of the shield’s activation added to the surrealism of the moment as the security guards slipped in the fluid on their way towards the doors. The crew remained stunned, except for Random who was attempting to pin a medal to Nonek’s jar for exemplar performance. “Best damn comic relief officer ever,” he muttered as tears formed in his eyes.
Armstrong recovered next. “What just happened?” he asked. When there was no reply he shouted at Nonek. “Answer me!”
“He doesn’t know,” Sonja said, zipping up the uniform front to cover her revealed cleavage. Nonek screamed again and flushed his jar to emphasize that point. “There’s definitely some higher intelligence at work here.”
“Could this have something to do with the dodecahedron?” Armstrong asked.
“The dodeca-whosa-what?” Riprock asked.
“The dodecahedron,” Armstrong said. “The nanite ship we just captured.”
“Nanite ship?” Random said. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“We just captured it last month,” Armstrong said.
“Gotta look forward if you want to command a ship,” Random said with a wave of his hand.
“This is the best the Confederation has left to send?” a booming voice said out of nowhere. “There’s a drop off in IQ if I’ve ever seen one. Do they send in the amoebas next? No, of course not… the amoebas have potential.”
“Who is that?” Riprock asked, hands poised over the weapons control with excitement.
“I’m sensing self-assuredness,” Sonja said. “He’s certain of his superiority, and higher intelligence.”
“Well, so far that’s Nonek,” Armstrong said, “but what about the lifeform.”
“The other crew figured it out long before you did,” the voice continued. “They hadn’t even gotten through our little introduction before putting it together.”
“You know what happened to them?” Armstrong asked.
“Obviously. Their fate is in your hands now… provided you can fair better than they. Of course, there’s not many left… just the captain, the android, and the blind engineer.”
“Where are-“
“Oops, there goes the android…. looks like he was just degaussed. He’ll make a hell of a paperweight.”
“Who are you,” Armstrong demanded. “What are you?”
“I am from a different level of existence than you. And I have come to put your species to the test.” It laughed with condescension. “So far I am not impressed. But we’ll see if you can do better. But as for me, worms, you may address me as,” there was a pause of such perfect dramatic length it could only come from a superior life form, “~.”
“Tilde?” Buddy asked. He was blasted from his chair.
“No, ~,” the voice said with frustration.
“Look, ~,” Nonek said, his voice unrecognizable without the sarcasm, “what is this test, and how will we be judged?”
“Ah, but that is part of the test,” ~ said. “But I’ll try to prod you feeble-minded creatures along as best as possible.” A figure appeared on the bridge, and despite everything they’d just witnessed, there was the sound of stunned awe at his appearance. “For our interactions, I’ll appear as one of you. Towards that end, I shall adopt the shape of one whom you’d know and respect.” He admired his form with satisfaction. “Television’s John Ritter.”
Buddy gasped. “Tilde,” he intoned. He was giving under hit for his trouble.
“~,” the being said with irritation.
“Enough!” Random said. “You may have gotten rid of that stupid bald French captain, and don’t think I’m not grateful for that. But you don’t come on this ship and strike my officers… and you sure as hell don’t defile the image of John Ritter!!!”
Riprock had his laser rifle out. He cocked it menacingly. “Just say the word sir,” he rumbled.
“Oh, the word is so given,” Random said with a glint in his eye.
“And let the testing begin,” ~ said with a snap of Mr. Ritter’s fingers.
The ship began spinning wildly. The crew was thrown about, their Newtonian Disregarders having no effect on the forces the ship was subjected to as it spun through space. Untold time passed until finally, mercifully, it stopped. Armstrong pulled himself up as best he could. “Damage report,” he called, but there was no answer. “Buddy, damage report.”
“He can’t hear you, sir,” Sonja said, pointing to the empty chair. Armstrong pulled himself up and checked the bridge, noting that half the bridgecrew were gone as well. “Captain…” he began.
“He can’t hear you,” ~ said coyly, sitting in Random’s chair with smirking self-confidence. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to blame your failures on him for this one, Lancey.”
“What are you talking about?” Armstrong said, ready to punch him, John Ritter or no John Ritter. “What have you done with my crew?”
“I’d be a little more worried about yourself, Lance. The ship is in your hands now, just like you’ve always wanted it. You think you can handle it, so handle it.”
“There’s a ship coming in,” Bambi said, replicating a new cup of coffee to replace the spilled one.
“Nonek-” Armstrong began.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to make due with your own teeny-tiny brain,” ~ said. A quick glance around the room revealed that the three of them and ~ were all that were left.
“Computer, how many crew members are left?” Armstrong asked.
“278,” the computer replied.
“Out of 1520,” Sonja intoned.
“And so, Lance,” ~ said as he started to fade, “we’ll see how ready to command you really are.” As he disappeared Armstrong heard him singing in his mind, “All change - don't you know that when you play at this level there's no ordinary venue.”
Armstrong took a deep, controlling breath, looking around the bridge. “Commander,” he said to Sonja, “put the ship on the main viewer.”
“Aye sir,” she said as she slipped into Buddy’s chair. A moment later the image of a huge vessel appeared. It was unmarked, its surface composed of jutting instruments, pipes, and the occasional weapon emplacement. It was like no ship any of them had ever seen before.
“What is that?” Armstrong said in awe of its size and Spartan design.
“It looks…” Sonja shrugged, “like a brick.” The gigantic brick-shaped ship grew on the display as Armstrong wondered if the test would be even harder than he’d imagined.

[to be continued]