StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Well, i've not done that much, but i've got the basic overall story written down in ladder-format, and am playing around with the start.

I've put stuff in brackets where i don't know what would be accurate, for now.

Tell me what you think of it.



[News report stardate [Maquis and cardassian war]]

Maquis sepratists are blamed for extremely bloody attack on cardassian moon "Kaleph"on the fringe of Bajoran space. Aggressive actions by the Cardassian empire has been faulted as the main cause for Maquis actions. No Maquis spokesperson available for comment.
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[News report stardate [Maquis and cardassian war], subsection: update]

The Maquis have claimed that the bloody attack on the moon Kaleph was "nothing to do with them". Intelligence sources say they have no idea who else could have been in the vacinity at the time of the particularly vicious attack a week ago. Cardassian intelligence agencies refuse to comment.
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[News report stardate [Maquis and cardassian war],subsection: paranormal news]

Reports from front lines combat from Maquis sources describe mysterious "spirits" and entire groups to going missing in combat zones. Said "spirits" are said to be almost transparent and extremely violent. No evidence has ever come forth that any such "spirits" exist, and reports are so sketchy as to be thought average wartime superstition. Due to the covert nature of the Maquis, no eyewitnesses have been available for interview.
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[News report stardate [Maquis and cardassian war]]

Anomalous reports from the cardassian and maquis front lines of teams going missing then being found later, skinned and sometimes decapitated. Revenge killings is thought to be the explanation...

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He was imagining snow, crisp and white, like the kind his village in Austria saw, reflecting the little sunlight back up at his eyes, the cold wind biting through his clothes. He knew it was futile. He sweated uncomfortably under the binary sun and boiled in the humid air and vapours. He was trapped on a jungle moon behind enemy lines, the whole landscape around him could erupt into disrupter fire at any moment.

How stupid of me, he thought, how stupid and foolish and desperate to prove myself to Captain Gray. Now you're trapped here, on this armpit of a moon, ready to die at a moments notice for a fight that doesn't even include your species or your planet. Well done man, seriously.

Something twinged deep down in the primal areas of his subconscious. He silenced his brain and signalled to the others to stop in their tracks, his head cocked to the source of the deja-vu feeling buzzing away at the back of his mind.

They stayed paused, barely breathing for an unspecified amount of time. Schaefer then slowly lowered to his knees, pointing his Bajoran rifle at the indistinguishable greenery swaying in the humid stench of this hell-hole moon.

He signalled to his second in command to creep over and join him. Slowly, Gardia Lotha crept through the muck, till he was alongside Schaeffer.

"What is it major?" Lotha quietly inquired.

"I'm not sure," came the flat reply, Schaefer's eyes squinted at the distant foliage, up in the trees. "Do you see something there, Lotha?"

Lotha's head followed Shaefer's gaze, piercing through the dense jungle at a section of tree. Nothing seemed amiss to him, just your average jungle, he thought. He smirked inwardly, but refrained from doing it outwardly out of respect for the man.

"Sir, it's difficult to see things here in the jungle, the vapours and paranoia make the humanoid mind more suggestable. That's partly why the cardies are here in the first place."

"I know about that, I was also at the briefing," sighed Schaefer, his eyes briefly snapping at Lotha, before returning back to the area he was scanning.

"Sir, I meant no disresp-"

"I know what you meant, i'm telling you there's something in those trees."

Lotha was unnerved. The burly human was so sure there was something there, which meant they were either being led by a madman, or there was actually some unseen danger, out in the jungle, amid the vines and debris of fallen trees.

"I believe you sir, should we check it out?" whispered Lotha, his whispering voice trembling slightly, and his goosepimples rushing unseen down his back, even in the stifling heat.

"No," replied Schaefer, his voice had shifted to tactical. "We have a mission, investigating ghosts in the forest is not part of it." His lips raised slightly at the corner of his mouth, and he turned and started down another path, away from the unpleasant feeling of being watched.

When the whole group had passed on into the brush, something shimmered between the trees. The air distorted for a few moments, and the distortion moved off through the trees, and everything looked untouched again.

------

"Ahhh, nice of you to join us, crewman" jabbed Chakotay warmly.

"Sorry I'm late sir, I've been having some weird dreams lately, and i went to meet up at the transporter room, but the-" chattered Schaefer uncharacteristically.

"Yes, i know,"interjected Chakotay. "The transporters are offline for the moment, which is why we're here. So, please, let's get in the shuttlecraft."

Schaefer dropped any conversation and walked his impressive frame into the shuttlecraft, along with Chakotay, and two starfleet ensigns. He knew one of them, she was a petite human who excelled at science, she was a little patronising around those who didn't go to the Academy. Schaeffer eyed her and she appeared to get nervous. She quirmed briefly and started flirting with the male ensign.

Schaefer sighed inwardly at this lack of professionalism he often observed with the starfleet crew. He decided it would be best not to talk and folded his arms and retreated into himself.

Chakotay noticed Schaefer doing his silent defensive routine, and swung his chair round.

"Schaefer, would you mind being the navigator please?" suggested Chakotay, with an air of spontaneity.

Schaefer stood up in the cramped shuttlecraft and walked to the cockpit area, and assumed the position of navigator, his fingers deftly dancing over the controls and making the appropriate pre-flight checks. He was more interested than perhaps he need be to ignore Chakotay's occasional gaze and the eventual conversation where Chakotay would probably lure him into a talk about his past.

He didn't want to talk about his past, especially not about that godforsaken moon in the middle of nowhere, 5 years ago.

It seems a little too short to really introduce us all to it.

That said, I fucking love the way you described the predator's cloak.

SeebianWurm wrote:It seems a little too short to really introduce us all to it.

Yeah, i plan on writing a little more tomorrow when i have time.

That said, I fucking love the way you described the predator's cloak.

Thanks.

I plan on having 2 running stories to introduce the predators and aliens before it all goes to shit, but not had all that much time to write it.

Love that spirit shit thing, nice. Somehow my mind started imagining troops in WWI trenches telling ghost stories about the predators.

And that jungle scene with Schaeffer was extremely like a scene in Pred 1.

Is Schaeffer supposed to be an Ah-nuld dude in Starfleet?

Shroom Man 777 wrote:Love that spirit shit thing, nice. Somehow my mind started imagining troops in WWI trenches telling ghost stories about the predators.

And that jungle scene with Schaeffer was extremely like a scene in Pred 1.

Is Schaeffer supposed to be an Ah-nuld dude in Starfleet?

Little known fact: Schaeffer is Dutch's last name.

So he's likely a long away descendent of the schaeffer's. Or it could jsut be a coincidence.

As general philips says in "Predator"(the comic, and imo the REAL predator 2 ) "these hunters seem to have a thing about your family"(spoken to Dutch's brother).

Could somebody gimme a synapsis of the comic? If you consider it as the real Pred2, then it's gotta be good.

What's the ETA of the next chapter?

I like it. Short, but good start.

Could somebody gimme a synapsis of the comic? If you consider it as the real Pred2, then it's gotta be good.

If follows Dutch's brother, Schaefer (spelling mistake, shall shortly edit first post)as Predators descend on New York, and deals with the whole thing cooler than predator 2(although it came out before predator 2, so they don't really have any of the new predtech). And yes, it's probably my favourite comic of all time, and the art in it's what i would aspire to be like, comic artist wise.

What's the ETA of the next chapter?

Soon. Very soon.

Kuja wrote:I like it. Short, but good start.

Yeah, i had a bit more time today, so there's a bit more.

Schaefer was pleasantly surprised at the nature of the inane chit-chat on the short warp travel across this new system. It was idle and the conversation was more work-based, reporting scans and shield strength, all very normal.

Then Schaefer noticed an unfamiliar light illuminate on his console.

"Sir, I've just picked up a recorded distress signal. It's coming from the nearest S class planet."

"Does Voyager know about it?" inquired Chakotay.

"No sir, it's very weak and due to the unusual amount of ionising radiation in this part of space, it's unlikely they will have picked it up."

"Well then, crewman Schaefer, we have a job to do, i'll communicate with Voyager, then we'll check it out," Chakotay said, then swung to activate the comm-link with Voyager. The link crackled into life, intereference occasionally degrading the connection.

"Commander?" asked Captain Janeway, the look of a minor calamity narrowly averted on her face. "You already have something to report?"

"Yes captain," reported Chakotay, a wry smile at the corners of his mouth, he knew the captain's body language well. "We've just received a distress call from an unknown alien ship from the planet below us, it appears to me an automatic repeating message in a language the universal translator is having trouble decoding. Do i have permission to check it out?" He inquired, already sure of the answer.

"Yes commander, this is a potential first contact situation, as i'm sure you're aware. I wouldn't have anyone else on the job." She smiled baring some of her teeth, and cocked her head back.

Chakotay smiled in response."Aye captain. Chakotay out."

The screen died and Chakotay turned back to his console. "Well crewmen, it seems we might get some adventure after all," Chakotay said to the shuttle at large.

"Life on board Voyager is a perpetual adventure, sir." said the all-too eager young ensign. Schaefer ignored the urge to hit the young ass-kisser.

"Starting final descent sir," stated Schaefer in an uninterested tone, dismissing the young ensign's comments in the process.

The canopy of stars and the large green cloudy planet swerved across the cockpit windows and soon the shuttle was completely enveloped in the thick gases of the planet. A few thousand metres dropped by unfelt in the cabin, and a flash and a bang caught Schaefer's attention.

"It seems the atmosphere of this planet is in a state of perpetual storm sir, wind shear is tolerable," Schaefer relayed from his console. "We're almost at the landing site anyway."

"Turn off the inertial dampners, artificial gravity, prepare to land," ordered Chakotay. "Oh, and you in the back, buckle up, this could be bumpy." As he said that, the craft made a gut wrenching left barrel roll, then corrected.

"Sorry, my fault," apologised Chakotay, biting his lip. Schaefer considered it might have been intentional. If it was, his estimation of Chakotay's character had just gone up several points, as the male ensign was now green.

Another wind shear buffetted the small craft and caused the inhabitants to react like rag dolls.

Schaefer gritted his teeth and jabbed compensating maneuvres into his console. He wished they would hurry up and get to the surface in one peace, as this was getting really old really fast.

Then his wish was answered, the craft evened it's keel and set down on a rocky range, jarringly hard.

The inner lights flickered on contact with the planet, but they were down.

Chakotay exhaled, and sighed "any landing you can walk away from, crewman," glaring semi-seriously at Schaefer.

"Hull integrity...nominal, all systems working. Oh wait, transporter is now offline, internal sensors are at 30% accuracy. We still have everything we need to get back to Voyager if need be." schaefer

reported after scanning the various instruments around him.

"Like i said any landing...whoa..." Chakotay started.

"Wow." agreed Schaefer.

The pale male ensign and the female ensign leaned forward, both their gazes fixed on something indeterminate out in the stormy wastes of the planet.

A strange, organic-looking "arm" of a vessel was sticking out of the rock the rest of the hull was half buried in. No details could be reasoned from the cockpit, but it had a very eerie presence about it.

"I'm guessing that's where the distress signal is coming from," Chakotay noted, then jabbed at some of the controls in front of him. "Yes, that's definately the source, sensors indicate an entrance on the near side. Everybody apart from ensign Michaels, suit up."

"Why am i not going?" inquired ensign Michaels, her voice angered, as a scientist not being allowed a chance such as this was intolerable.

"Ensign Jones has had the same amount of science training as you, i'm a commanding officer, and crewman

Schaefer is a security officer. In addition to that, you took a communications technology course at the Academy, whereas Jones didn't. You're the only one who would get the commincation relay working again if it breaks. You stay," replied Chakotay, as a commanding officer should. There would be no dissent.

He pulled on his spacesuit and checked his arm-mounted torch, oxygen levels and secured his suit.

Michaels sighed, and collapsed into a chair in the front of the craft. Chakotay joined Schaefer and Jones in the rear compartment of the shuttlecraft, and was passed a pack of expeditionary tools. He checked the tricorder and flipped it shut.

"Throw up a forcefield ensign," commanded Chakotay. The ensign pressed the appropriate buttons and blue sparks glanced across a thin line seperating the front compartment from the rear. "We'll keep in contact. We'll return in an hour or two at the most."

The rear door of the shuttlecraft lowered down onto the cold stormy rocky world. It had a grim dark green tint to it. Nervously, the trio stepped out on to the rocks and turned on thier various lights.

The door returned to it's upright position and they set off for the alien craft.

-----

"How many miles is it to the Cardassian camp, Vigo?" Schaefer inquired to Vigo, the group's tracker and guide.

Vigo looked perplexed. "I think it's about 5 miles south west from here, Major. But i think i found the

previous Maquis group's tracks, here, six different tracks, five wearing Bajoran Jungle terrain boots, one wearing human hiking boots."

"Let's follow those then. That team was led by James Hopper, i used to know him, we joined the Maquis and trained together."

"I'll scout ahead." said Vigo, Schaefer nodded and the Bajoran swiftly and silently passed into the brush, his Bajoran ornaments reacting to his movements.

Schaefer ducked down to reduce visisbility again, and got his troup to fan out in a 5 meter spread around him in a semicircle.

The plants seperated again where Vigo had just disappeared, he was back, eyes wide and white as a sheet.

"Vigo, what is it?"Schaefer inquired, vicariously leeching the man's fear.

"You should come and have a look at this, Major," replied Vigo cryptically.

"Circular defense formation, follow Vigo" Schaefer indicated, then followed Vigo through the dense undergrowth.

They covered a short distance, over the roots and under the vines, and Vigo stopped at a tree.

"What is it?" asked Schaefer, a confused look on his face, his palms wrapped around his rifle. Vigo silently pulled apart the leaves and birds fled before them.

There were six picked and partially eaten skinned corpses hung from the tree, without heads. Schaefer's and the Bajorans' eyes widened, and colour drained from their cheeks, only the sweat highlights and muck remaining.

Vigo unsheathed his combat knife and picked up some blood-stained dog-tags with the blade. He tossed it through the air silently, and Schaefer caught it abruptly with his black-gloved hand. Clear as day, it read "James Hopper". Schaefer slowered his arms silently, a moment thinking about who could've killed his friends in this way.

"There's more Major. I've found scorch marks all around this area. The trees have burnt bark all over them, they were shooting in all directions," Vigo explained, he had an excellent poker-face, but confusion and worry filled up his eyes.

"I don't beleive Jim Hopper would have walked into an ambush," disbelieved Schaefer, repeatedly gripping his rifle, to make sure it was there, to make him feel less anxious.

"I don't believe he did, Major. I can't find a single track in or out of here," replied Vigo, crouching and scanning nearby ground. "Just doesn't make sense," he added, shaking his head.

"They skinned them? Who would do this to a man? I grew up during the occupation, the Cardassians never did anything like this," asked Poncho.

"Looks like they found a new way to kill somebody," added Friya, his nostrils flared.

"But why did they skin them?" Poncho replied, his teeth gritted in revulsion.

"Cut them down." ordered Schaefer, and Vigo cut the bloody vines holding them to the tree, their heavy bodies falling to the floor in a bloody crumpled mess.

Two words: ASS KICKING!!!

I loved how you integrated ST with Predator, especially these flashbacks. And you've even used the names of the original dudes. Please continue.

Hmmm... is that wacked up crashed ship the derlict vessel from Alien? And that stupid shit redshirt ensign is gonna get his face hugged, right? Oh yeah....

Shroom Man 777 wrote:Two words: ASS KICKING!!!

I loved how you integrated ST with Predator, especially these flashbacks. And you've even used the names of the original dudes. Please continue.

Hmmm... is that wacked up crashed ship the derlict vessel from Alien? And that stupid shit redshirt ensign is gonna get his face hugged, right? Oh yeah....

You know it.

The first part of this story is to give everyone a familiar feel for aliens and predator, then it goes apeshit once we get back aboard voyager.

I wrote a bit more today, but it's not that great. I'll write some more for tomorrow i think.

Shroom Man 777 wrote:Two words: ASS KICKING!!!

I loved how you integrated ST with Predator, especially these flashbacks. And you've even used the names of the original dudes. Please continue.

Hmmm... is that wacked up crashed ship the derlict vessel from Alien? And that stupid shit redshirt ensign is gonna get his face hugged, right? Oh yeah....

His last name is "Jones." Is there a stupider question?

I like it. Good way to introduce the bad guys. One request/thought: can you put your flashbacks in italics? It would ease the transition from present to past and IME, ups the mysteriousness a bit.

Kuja wrote:I like it. Good way to introduce the bad guys. One request/thought: can you put your flashbacks in italics? It would ease the transition from present to past and IME, ups the mysteriousness a bit.

It's done, should get to writing next bit tomorrow, been damn busy over the weekend (for a change).

Ok, well i just wrote this bit just now, it's not great, but i wanted to save myself for the battle scene which is imminent. This is just really to introduce "old painless".

The three starfleet officers marched over the the rain-soaked rocky ground, their sight fixed on the unorthodox monolith towering over them, winds shearing at their suits, and guiding the rain to be lit up by their assorted lights as it beat down.

Chakotay removed his tricorder and began to scan the organic looking vessel, with it's unsettling gothic ridges that the rain slid down, as if the vast structure was a drooling jawbone of some hungry animal. It's effect was not lost on the humans, all of whom were feeling a mixture of awe, curiosity, and apprehension.

"No noticable warp nacelles," reported Chakotay, his vision switching between the tricorder and the alien craft."It's not organic either, it just looks it...hm," one reading caught his eye.

"I'm not seeing any impulse engines either, perhaps they had a completely different kind of propulsion altogether," added Jones, turning his tricorder across his x axis.

"I think I've just found an entrance," answered Chakotay, his curiosity clearly piqued. "Ensign, can you climb up there?" Chakotay inquired, pointing his gloved hand up at an area of the hull.

The wind howled, and blew up more rain. "No sense in staying here, sir, and please, call me Timothy."

Chakotay smiled, and helped Ensign Jones up onto the curved hull of the craft. "When the mission's finished, ensign. Tell me what you see."

"Seems to be some sort of vent or exhaust, sir, approximately 2 metres wide by 4 tall. It seems to go on for a long way into the craft. No lifesigns," Jones replied, then summarised; "It's weird, dark and deep."

"Stick a piton in please, ensign," ordered Chakotay, eager to see it for himself.

Ensign Jones crouched, removing a self-inserting climbing piton from his backpack, and inserted it into the apparently derelict craft's hull. A quick escape of gas was heard as the piton sealed itself in place. Ensign Jones attached a rope and flung it over the side of the cave to Chakotay and Schaefer, who abruptly scaled the wall and crowded into the vent.

Their torchlights stretched across the walls of the craft, illuminating small strange parts of the alien architecture then disappearing into the void beyond the reach of the torchlight. They quietly walked forward, constantly scanning with their tricorders.

Schaefer's nose twitched, and he palmed his phaser. "Sir, i don't like this place. I say we get the hell off this ghost ship and leave this area right now."

"I know what you mean crewman, but trust me, it's just paranoia. The architecture all around you adds to the effect, but as you just said, it's a ghost ship, there's nothing left alive that can harm us. Added to that, as the ensign noted this thing has no impulse or warp drives, they could have some kind of new propulsion that we haven't seen yet, could help to get Voyager home in days rather than decades, like a trans-warp drive," Chakotay said, as if he'd been rehearsing this with an inward battle in his own head. The ensign looked visibly pleased that he'd been mentioned, but attempted to cover it up when Schaefer noticed.

Schaefer returned his gaze to Chakotay, and they locked in eye-contact for a moment. Schaefer looked impassive for a moment, as if he was in an internal debate of his own. "Yes sir," he nodded, "I don't know what came over me."

They passed deeper and deeper into the craft, until they noticed the floor had changed. No longer was it The smooth chute of the entrance vent, now it had an unsettling rib-like appearance, the ribs stretching like cobwebs from corners and meeting up with other ribs in spines that snaked around all the inner corridors. The walls had a similar rib-like architecture to them, stretching in gothic structures across the ceiling, and curving down to other walls.

"Spooky place," ensign Jones pointed out the obvious. "Hold on, I think I found something!" he exclaimed enthusiastically into his communicator, following the shifting lights of his tricorder.

"Ensign! Stop!" shouted Chakotay, his voice audibly switching pitches out of responsibility for the impetuous young ensign.

They followed the ensign into a tall circular room, and noticed he was just stood silently, tricorder dangling somewhat aimlessly by his side. They caught up to him and grabbed his arm, his head snapping to silent eye contact.

"What the hell do you think you were doing, running off like that?!" yelled Schaefer, misting his visor briefly with each angered breath. "That's how ensigns get killed, idiot!" he finished, then let go of him with a shake, following Chakotay's beam of torchlight to the strange structure in the centre of the darkened room.

"Whoa."

The lights crossed and danced on the long dead alien corpse and the bizarre implement reaching up into the ceiling at a 45 degree angle away from the alien's head. The alien was lying on it's back, with 2 long arms by it's side, it's lifeless cranial structure looking towards the strange alien equipment. They couldn't see any legs, perhaps this "pilot" or whatever it was, was somehow fused with the ship, either way it's reason of death seemed clear. Something looked to have exploded in it's ribcage, all the skin around the area was torn and dehydrated, but it was clear some sort of internal trauma had occurred.

They turned from the giant corpse, and circled it, examining the strange architecture and ancient machinery of the room. Old wires or pipes slid about everywhere and hid behind the rib motif that was everywhere onboard.

"Commander!" shouted Jones, clearly interested with something he'd found.

Chakotay jogged over to him and saw. He looked down into a hole, a gateway between this pilot room and a wide abyss filled with low-lying mist, concealing several small pods in an eerie pale light blue light.

----

"Find the Cardassian trail again Vigo, we assault the camp today," ordered Schaefer, matter-of-factly. He turned to the rest,"Follow Vigo, 5 metre spread, no sound."

Friya checked over his Klingon rifle, making sure the beam would cleanly cut out of the weapon. He nodded to Blaine, the only other human in the elite soldier group. "Time to get old painless out of the bag."

Blaine unzipped his long green bag, and removed the scariest custom-gun known to the Maquis. He and Friya had made it together in their spare time, from spare parts and no less than six miniature particle accellerators, each barrel propelling highly charged particles at near to lightspeed at the intended target. The barrels were enclosed in a few critical magnetic coils, to keep the particles on path, and also to hold them in place as the barrels spun to keep cool and to keep a high charge.

Blaine rocked the barrels and checked the cables to the powersource backpack that the weapon required. "Payback time," came the brief promise. Friya activated the power source and there was a characteristic thump noise, then a low pitch whine that quickly evaporated.

He slowly backed away from the extremely dangerous and undoubtedly badass heavy weaponry that Blaine was toting. Friya then grinned a big white smile, then chuckled, "It's definately you."

Blaine secured the weapon, and held it by the handguard under the barrels and the upside-down trigger mechanism at the rear. Due to the weight of the weapon, he semi-squatted with his legs apart and moved off into the jungle. Friya followed, feeling a pang of gun-envy.

First Post!
And I'm kicking my self for not recognising 'Old Painless' until the description!
Looking good so far

Very nice... oh, and shouldn't that be "Penis Envy"?

Singular Quartet wrote:Very nice... oh, and shouldn't that be "Penis Envy"?

Well no, for we know Bajorans have the biggest cocks in the milky way galaxy.

This is amazing! MORE!

Rye wrote:

Singular Quartet wrote:Very nice... oh, and shouldn't that be "Penis Envy"?

Well no, for we know Bajorans have the biggest cocks in the milky way galaxy.

Ah, should have known...

Singular Quartet wrote:

Rye wrote:

Singular Quartet wrote:Very nice... oh, and shouldn't that be "Penis Envy"?

Well no, for we know Bajorans have the biggest cocks in the milky way galaxy.

Ah, should have known...

I just reread the whole "getting out old painless" part and it could easily be used as heavy innuendo.

Heheh, thought i'd start to write some more of this...i'll write the pred half in a bit...
---------------------------------

Chakotay lay on his stomach, his arm and head perched on the edge of the hole in the floor. He held up his arm mounted torch so he could see the detail in the craft's composite materials. The light and shadows scratched and sunk in little pools on the pock-marked and bubbled material, the contrast of apparently ancient scorchmarks draping down into the chasm below.

"I think this was burned through by some kind of corrosive chemical, possibly a strong molecular acid of some kind," said Chakotay, standing up and turning to his equipment on his belt. He removed a slender piton and placed it on the ground.

"You're going in, sir?" said Jones, looking at the piton as it burrowed into the floor and stuck fast.

"I certainly am, ensign. Seems unsatisfying to come this far and not go further. We are explorers after all."

With that, and a friendly smirk, Chakotay tossed a snaking line from the piton down into the hole. He hooked himself to the line and slowly backed towards the hole, teetering back over the 90 degree bend and then began lowering himself down into the empty blackened space, lit from below by the calm unearthly sea of light.

Chakotay was in silent awe of this room of the ship, the light from his torch slipping and sliding over the strangely reminiscent and suggestive curves of the ship's architecture. His feet caught an uneasy purchase on a ledge, he examined the silent still panorama, never had he seen anything so alien, there was no semblance of any common technologies humanoid races used.

"It's ok, you can come down now," Chakotay whispered. He wandered back slowly, panning his torchlight back and forth at the architecture and into the queer lowered pit either side of the ledge.

His world turned upwards and sideways as he slipped on the curved surface of the ledge, panic and dread grabbing his stomach as he broke the surface of the room's lake, then a harsh bang on the floor stopped his descent.

He groaned, sat up and rubbed his knee, feeling like a misadventurous child. He pulled himself up to standing height and breached the surface again, to the sudden reactivation of his internal comms, the worried questioning of his shipmates.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I just...lost my footing," he panned his torch again under the skin of the field he was breaching. "This appears to be some sort of field, it looks like it's protecting these..." he paused to scruitinise, "...leathery eggs. Maybe our friend upstairs laid them? The field reacts when broken." Chakotay stuck his finger in the field to replicate the subdued high pitch sound it made when breached.

He turned to his descending teammates, then something caught his eye. A subtle movement. He strode through the eggs and ducked down beneath the blue field to get a closer look. The torchlight shone into the egg, it looked ancient, not as ancient as the fossilised elephantine alien fused to the ship above, but old enough to have lost all colour and become transparent. The egg itself looked porous, dimples and warts not unlike the skin of a toad, to collect water and channel it.

Something flexed within the egg. Perhaps this was a baby, the creature above was to protect, a nursery ship? Other species were known to do similar things, what would the prime directive say? Chakotay's mind was scattered, his attention drawn to this baby...he couldn't just leave it here, it may require a parent, and it may have been his movement that set it off, it would be his responsibility.

The egg creased at the top, 4 lips cracked their ancient seals and spread slowly out like a timelapsed flower. Chakotay leaned over, there was a throbbing bag of mucus, not unlike a fat covered heart, it began to stretch and contort, like something inside was sucking it in, something within the egg turned and 10 long bony fingers snapped in a vice grip around his helmet.

Chakotay screamed and tried to run, but this giant hand obscured all view . This was pretty bad, but worse was the creaking sound around the sides of the helmet, and the cracks beginning to appear on the transparent sections. The yells from his teammates didn't make any sense, this thing had him. He looked for eyes, there was nothing there, just some soft tissue that looked like, oh gods, a vagina with a penis-like tube coming out. The entire front of the helmet gave in to the pressure and the thing lunged in, then it all went black. The muscular vagina-like structure forced his mouth open and a tail snapped round his neck. His scream muffled to nothing shotly after.

Ensign Michaels was perusing some random files on the shuttlecraft's computer, she was bored out of her mind and attempting to read some news reports from the Alpha Quadrant before they'd been dragged all this way into the Delta Quadrant. Some small environmental records were broken on colonies, heatwaves, it seemed, followed by all the members of those colonies disappearing or turning up dead. Yes, it was morbid, but it was certainly more interesting than looking at an unfunctioing transporter panel.

She almost jumped out of her skin when the forcefield came on of it's own accord behind her. Static scratched across the air and the rear door folded down. Schaefer walked in, looking like he'd seen a ghost.

"Ellie, right?" asked Schaefer. Ellie nodded.

"What's...?" Ellie started to ask.

"Ellie, I'm gonna have to ask you to sit down and stay calm. Start to plot the course back to Voyager and do it now."

Ellie nodded again and turned around, prodding at the LCARS system till Voyager and a targeting reticle appeared, followed by streams of information, and the closing of the rear door.

She spun around in her chair as the shuttle started to take off, "What's going...OH MY GOD!" she screeched, covering her mouth with her hands and squinting in horror.

"Just keep the forcefield up, we don't know what it is, we'll sort this out when we get back to Voyager." Schaefer said, urgently.

Ellie spun round and looked at the outside to try and take her mind off it. Her brain pointed out she could still see the thing in the reflection, stuck on the commander's face. She wiped her eyes and looked at a different portion of the screen.

"Help me get it off," Schaefer ordered Jones.

Jones tried to secure a grip on a knuckle of the alien, as did Schaefer, and they saw the thing's tail tighten around Chakotay's neck.

"Okay, let it go, get the medical tricorder," said Schaefer, sitting down. "And don't take off your suit, it's possible that thing's carrying something airborne."

-------------------

Schaefer moved slowly through the sweltering jungle, the scent of death and decay nourishing the trees and insects now packed away in a box in the corner of his mind. Blue sky could be seen through the spine-like leaves of the bushes and small trees in front of him, he slowly crept out, his camouflaged clothes and paint on his face keeping him hidden in plain sight.

They were approximately 150 meters from the cardassian camp, surrounded by tall thin stalk-like trees. The camp was formed from 5 round terracotta coloured buildings with the occasional communication spines lurching out like fins. Dotted around the sides of these main buildings were cruder yurts that the lower members of the cardassian occupiers had been to live in due to the unfinished construction of the barracks.

Schaefer held his rifle behind him, it was taken gently and replaced with some binoculars.

He turned to his teammates and whispered "turn on your sensor cloaks, they will only work for a short time, but with any luck we won't need them that long." He pressed a disc on his belt, then turned, as if mechanically back towards the camp and lurched slowly forward.

Schaefer moved fluidly on his stomach through the leaves, mud and fallen branches down the small hillside, coming to a rest behind a dead tree trunk. He slowly raised his head above the wood like a submarine's periscope breaking the water, and brought the binoculars to his eyesockets.

Closest to him was a cardassian with his back turned, his hands in some sort of relay or transformer, connected by a thick cable to the inside of a small brown shuttlecraft. The craft had it's rear door down, cable fed into the exposed reactor assembly. Inside there was another cardassian, pressing various reactor controls on his station.

Schaefer panned up, towards the main base, a cardassian was walking slowly, his disruptor rifle slung on his shoulder, and expression apparently uninterested.

From there he panned to his left, the cardassians had built a raised platform, a guard tower, though it wasn't so much a tower as a platform with a wall around the top, occupied by 2 cardassians with disruptor rifles, no scopes.

Schaefer panned back right to the base, the largest central dome must've been the barracks, there were several greenskins eating something unpleasant looking in a loud, rumbunctious way.

He lowered the binoculars, his eye caught some movement by a side dome. A cardassian was kicking a Maquis scout in the chest, and two others were mocking and laughing the hapless bound prisoner. The bjoran prisoner took a boot to the face and coiled in the dirt helplessly, coughing up little clouds. The aggressor removed a sidearm and casually shot the Bajoran in the head. He then turned to the two onlookers with a smirk on his face, and lifted his hands away from his thighs, essentially a shrug gesture. The two onlookers burst into laughter and applause.

Schaefer had seen enough, he sighed with his back on the trunk and attempting to force the face of death from his mind. For a moment, he just sat in the glare of the sun, amid the dead, bleached leaves and branches. He looked up at his team, and signalled for them to come down to the vantagepoint. The team moved on their stomachs, just as Schaefer had done, their bulky backpacks uneasily swaying through the bushes and leaves.

"They killed one of the hostages, we move," stated Schaefer, patting his pockets and belts as to reassure himself everything was there. He consulted his mental map of the base, and began giving assignments. "Friya, Blaine, the nest, Vigo, Poncho, the guard, Dilan, Pallra, backup. As soon as they're set, I hit the main reactor." That was it, they silently moved out, hunched over to the leafline, their minds focused on the task at hand.

Blaine had secured Old Painless on his backpack, preferring instead to go for something lighter and less bulky, a smaller run of the mill cardassian disruptor rifle, taken from a warzone years earlier, before he left federation service. He and Friya ran silently between trees wide enough to block them visually from the base, till they were at the final trees before the "nest," the raised platform. There was still around 4 meters distance through thick undergrowth to the structure, the guards scanners seemingly hadn't picked them up and the cloaks were working like clockwork. They crept forward, barely disturbing the leaves, dragging themselves by pulling on the roots of the local flora.

Blaine felt a buzzing on his side. Slight problem here, his brain noted, and he checked down his side. His cloak was making the buzzing noise, probably a loose connection. Not good. He lay there, motionless, eyes white and forehead shiny with perspiration looking at Friya, practically expressionless.

Vigo stalked, catlike down a mossy incline, Poncho a meter away, hidden behind a tree with a guard on the other side, listening to him breathe and read a cardassian equivalent of a PADD. They looked at one another and turned back to Schaefer.

Friya had a minute electrical device soldering a new electrical bridge inside Blaine's sensor cloak, glowing and spitting worrisomely in the undergrowth. He closed the side and reattached it to Blaine, who sighed in relief as the cardassian manning the cardassian palm-held scanner seemed to shrug to himself and put it down before sitting on the far side of the nest's wall.

Dilan watched the PADD-reading guard get grabbed by Vigo's arm and pulled behind some leaves, and lowered his binoculars. There was a wet "snik" noise as a combat blade cut cleanly through vital neck flesh, bringing quick unseen death and preventing screaming. He looked to Pallra, "one down,"he said, and turned to look at the nest.

Blaine and Friya sidestepped around the sides of the nest. Blaine's boot softly dispersed the clay underfoot, his long muscular arm guaging the height of the wall, then removing a long black unshining knife. Friya, at the opposite side, unbuttoned his knife holster and mimicked a birdcall.

The cardassian pushed his green head over the side and was dragged down with only a ruffle of his clothes as the knife plunged deep into his wide scaled neck, bringing forth very dark, almost black blood from the wound. his pupils were wide with rage and shock, and died with an open mouth screaming silently. Blaine grabbed the other cardassian from the rear and dragged him down into darkness and dumb confusion as he gargled his last breath.

Dilan lowered his binoculars and gave Schaefer the "thumbs up" gesture from the fallen tree trunk. Schaefer nodded from his leafy cover and moved silently towards the base.

He moved towards the rear entrance of the shuttle, aware that any sound at this moment or sheer bad luck could get them all killed. He skulked to just behind the shuttle itself, going to the right of the open door, listening to the sounds of the reactor and the "pilot" talking to the cardassian outside and pressing on his console. His brain wasn't really noticing what they were saying, it was almost like it was censoring them, dehumanising, if that's appropriate, these humanoid enemies, focusing instead on their termination or incapacitation.

He silently lowered his boot to the inner floor of the shuttlecraft, and hoisted himself inside, unnoticed. He stayed low, so no reflections would give him away, then crouched, motionless and unnoticed behind the pilot, staring at the back of his neck with naught but coldness. The cardassan pilot finished his sentence and Schaefer struck like a snake, snapping the guy's head back and sticking the knife in deep and across the neck. Black blood rained fowards and Schaefer stuck in the same position holding him back till he stopped moving. He looked down at the bloodied console in front of him and started jabbing at various navigational controls, smearing the visual display with greasy blood.

"What the hell is he doing?" asked Dilan, almost unbelieving. Schaefer turned and held up his hand, signing to them to "wait" just a few more moments. Then he removed a satchel from his shoulder and placed around the neck of the dead cardassian pilot. He felt the side for a switch and turned it on, a small light illuminated with a bloody fingerprint.

Dilan signed to the other members of the team to stay put and put up the binoculars again. Schaefer slowly backed out of the shuttle, the same way he went in, keeping the shuttle as cover to obscure him from the cardassian at the relay, and hid behind a tree.

The rear door of the shuttle then closed of it's own accord, wedging the cable between it and the doorway as it began to lift up a few feet from the ground.

The relay cardassian begain to yell and shout insults in cardassian at the pilot, who didn't appear to care. The craft then pulled forward in a great big yank, tearing the cable up from the ground, and taking the relay apparatus and the cardassian with it.

Blaine looked on, eyes squinting in unbelief, "What the fuck?" he uttered, almost at a loss for words, but not quite.

It tore forward on an erratic collision course with the barracks, an unstoppable juggernaut that tore up a line of destruction through the base, smashing through some yurts before turning sideways into a chaotic populated barracks in the space of seconds. People were rolling around with broken bones, or crushed beneath the heavy brown metal or attempting to put out electrical fires.

Schaefer took out a handheld grenade, twisted it to arm it and tossed it into the fray. The satchel charge exploded, followed almost instantaneously by the shuttle's reactor, which blew the barracks clean apart. In slow motion, a white shockwave bursts vertically from the upturned side of the shuttle, which splits the barracks right down the middle, as well as blasting the meat clear from the burning bones of those closest to it. Following the initial blast, the yellow afterburn bloats the shuttle into shrapnel, which rips through the hapless bodies of dead and living alike, caught on the tide of burning yellow plasma, which flows through the building like liquid, before billowing out of weak points like high pressure smoke. These weakpoints crack like an eggshell, and the shards of shell are flung in all directions as yet more shrapnel. There are multiple tertiary explosions as other forms of energy storage are fractured and react energetically.

The first chunks of shrapnel begin raining from the sky and embed themselves, steaming, into the flash-dried cracked mud as the yellow gas begins to go transparent and dissipates. The angered surviving soldiers, though caught offguard are extremely scared, angry and predictable, 3 are taken up into the air by Schaefer's grenade, fall back down as lifeless, broken meat. Schaefer arms his rifle and begins shooting into the crowd.

Dilan started to climb over the treetrunk, with a glance to Pallra he simply said, "showtime, kid!"

Schaefer launched a grenade from his rifle's attachment at a group of open boxes, "L" shaped components and unrecognisable debris cut through the air like evil birds of prey, smashing and sticking in hapless, faceless enemy soldiers. Another grenade landed by some cleaning fluids, which promptly exploded showering 4 cardassians in burning liquid.

Poncho, perched where the guard was earlier, was launching grenades in quick succession from his weapon, explosions shitting smoke and fire in all directions, then drooping down like dreadlocks or palm trees before being dragged away by the wind.

Inside the base, visibility had gone down practically to nil, random beams and bursts flying out from the trees, yellow fire erupting every other second all around, dust and orange smoke and blood in the air, all they could do was shoot blindly into the trees.

One by one, they were cut down, sliced open by beams, or peppered by burst-modified disruptors, or blown into oblivion by explosives.

The team moved in, running in diagonal paths down the hillside, while Blaine and Friya moved round the sides. Poncho ducked behind a tree, bark and chunks of mud explosing around him, then shot semi-blindly around the tree. The grenade launcher kicked 4 times and he braced. Cardassians were tossed clear of the gantry they were firing from, and out over open ground before they pumelled painfully into it.

Blaine had his rifle packed away under his backpack, this was Old Painless' time to shine. He kicked open a door to a dome and burning yellow plasma scorched from the spinning end, alongside the deafening noise of the spinning motors and the air bnnig torn asunder by the particle beams. The room turned to face Blaine and Ol' Painless, they were clearly outmatched and felt it almost immediately. Holes and trenches were dug violently and instantly into all the materials in the monster gun's way.

It cored apart the wooden bar sending burning shavings in plooms of smoke all over the rifle-bearing cardassians behind. Not that they cared, they'd just been blasted clean open and were doing the dying string puppet dance, where it was as if their strings were being cut unexpectedly, along with the guy's fingers that was operating them. A door opened and some more soldiers ran, in short order their limbs were seperate from the rest of their body and they fell to the floor in devastated crumpled heaps, steaming and burning.

Dilan ducked as an explosion shocked him from behind, and cut down 2 cardassians to the floor to his left. He rolled forwards and stood up to a sprint past the burning building to his left. A cardassian staggered out of the doorway in front of him, shooting wildly and flailing his limbs, to be greeted by a slim shot to the head. He jumped past the body and saw Schaefer fighting off multiple enemy soldiers.

"Schaef! On your 9!" yelled Dilan, shooting another greenskin that had just come out of the woordwork. Schaefer spun mechanically and burst-fire several holes into the abdomens of the 2 cardassians. Dilan was riding the bloodtide, vision practically red in all it's bloodseeking fury, beams lancing out and blowing away others lives like candles, suddenly snuffed out, screams inaudible above the warzone.

Ponchos grenades blew apart yurts and Friya's pulse fire cut down the escaping enemy. Blaine's weapon could be heard ripping up walls and supplies and the occasional enemy into burning confetti. The scene was awash with meat, shrapnel and lakes of fire, black smoke, gore and death everywhere, it was hell.

Pallra stormed a building, turned and shot the bastard that always hides to the side of the door. He examined the scene, it was a kitchen area,and it was practically abandoned. A scream came from upstairs, then silence. Pallra backed slowly to the wall by the stairs, then rolled around the corner, aiming the rifle at anything that dared to move. Nothing. He raised a few steps, a few more. Another scream, it's volume raised as it's origin got closer. A cardassian fell back against the top of the stairs shooting at something in front of him and screaming wildly, Pallra took the opportunity, and put him down, cean shot, just below the ear. The lifeless body slumped down the stairs in a heap, Pallra got out of it's way before it crashed to an abrupt halt at the bottom.

So he slowly and surely ascended the stairs, and arrived at the doorway the cardassian had been firing erratically through. He examined left and right, then explored the single room, a few metal benches, and a skylight. And a dripping. Between explosions outside, it could be heard, a dripping, thick and heavy. Goopy, almost. Behind an overturned table there was a black pool. Dark, cardassian blood. He looked up towards the skylight, against the broken glass and harsh light coming in, naked green bodies hung from the ceiling. Shit.

Pallra started to back towards the exit, get the hell away from this, his instincts ordered. He turned to run for the exit and buckled over something unseen, he dropped his rifle and was just stuck there in shock. A force ripped up, forcing his ribs and lungs to seperate noisily from one another, and an invisible push sent him clean across the floor into an overturned table, with enough force to make the table bang when he hit it. His blood would be on the table, he thought, no idea why that would matter at a time like this. His blood was also on 2 floating spikes, that looked like glass or crystal, refracting the light weirdly then gaining colour.

The monster revealed itself to him, white haloes and crackling electricity moving over parts, distorting and coagulating till they were visible. It's a demon, thought Pallra's dying brain, from the old legends, demon that makes trophies of men.

"No," he tried to defy, his life pouring from him. The demon walked over, and stood, towering above in the sunlight. The sunlight was getting brighter, everything was going white as the blood drained from him.

The monster lowered it's head, wearing a deathmask, darkness where the eyes should've been, eyes that flashed like fire and returned to darkness. It crouched, making a weird exhaling clicking noise as it turned it's head, almost like a quizzical dog, it's long, snakelike dreadlocks slithering over it's flesh to gravity's pull. Without warning, it grabbed Pallra's head and that was the last thing he knew.

The monster then dragged Pallra's corpse up to the dangling cardassians and crouched on the roof, examining the heated conflict for another worthy prey.

Man that was good I just read the whole thing never knew it was here until you posted again but let me tell you it sure was worth it.

Chakotay got hugged instead of that ass-kissing ensign? Did you get some brain damage between now and the last chapter you wrote?