ENTERPRISE ]LOG ]ENTRIES SS CONTENTS One That Got Away bv Krvsia Baczala P 3 , 0 Tribble in Store by Mrs. Pippin P 18 The Ultimate Computer the Final Chapter by Ann Neilson P 19 Inscription on a Monument by Teresa Abbott P 21 The Way Back by Matthew Conway P 22 Am I or Not by Katrina Heintz P 30 Friends in Need by Sandy Catchick P40 Eridani Born by Gillian Catchpole P 59 Arena of Combat by Gloria Fry P60 Fear by Susan Keighley P63 Guilt by Susan Keighley P63 Fever by Maggie Symon P64 Remember When the Stars Shone Brighter by Patricia De Voss P69 My Friend by Helen Cakebread P75 Divisions by Teresa Abbott P79 Illos: Lynn Henricks - cover Ann Neilson - P 2 Ann Humphrey - P 68, P 78 Martin Street - r 41, P 53 A ScoTpress publication Editors - Sheila Clark, Valerie Piacentini Typing -Teresa Abbott, Kathryn Boag, Sandy Catchick, Sheila Clark, Matthew Conway, Valerie Piacentini, Fiona Rule, Lesley Thompson Proofreading -Janet Quarton, Sheila Clark & Valerie Piacentini Printing of Masters -Janet Quarton Prin ling - Urban Prin t Distracting -Shona and Cindy ENTERPRISE - LOe ENTRIES 88 is put out by ScoT press and is available from- She i1a Clark 6 Craigmill Cottages Strathmartine by Dundee Scotland © ScoTpress November 1992. All rights are reserved to the writers and artists. Anyone wishing to reprint any of the material herein is asked to obtain permission in writing first. I It is understood that this applies only to original material herein, and that no attempt is made to supersede any rights held by Paramount, NBC, BBC or any other holders of copyright in STAR TREK material. ScoTpress -Sheila Clark, Valerie PiiKentini, Janet Quarton & Shona j ONrtI ',-iHi!1', T;' - Ti\ r'I , \ ~'I !\ -: -I -~ ! I --, ",., ~ ~ b,v Krys ia Haczala As a young and very junior officer on tlw En terprise, ] don't get much of an opportunity to work 1Nith Captain Kirk, Usually I'm only in the same place as him during parades, general inspections and that sort of thing, So you can imagine my surprise and delight when I found out that I was goillli to have him virtuallv dl! to myself for almost six davs, '"-_ l. ~'_' " It was Lt Uhura who first told me about it. She's my immediate superior, the officer in charge of my little section, although we are all, of course, ultimately answerable to the Captain. Uhura, who is in chargl' of all matters relating tl) Communications, acts as head of my sub department, which is Records, It's not ,1 Inrge department; there's only me and two ensigns, I'm sure there are some of the crew of the Enterprise who don't even know where my cubby-hole of an office is, as it's tucked away in the bowels of the ship, Anyway, our job is to keep records of everything that happens, It can be anything from the Captain's log entTies to noting how many uniform shirts the Quartermaster ordered this trip, or anything in between, And believe me, on a Starship that's a lot' We send off all that we record to Starfleet Headquarters. Sometimes I'm awestruck by the thought of the Starfleet Records Department back on Earth, which swallows up all the information we send, And not only what we send, but all the other Starships too, and the scoutships and communications vessels and so on. All the information is analysed, cross referenced and then stored in case anyone ever neecLs it. Even using computer banks, the Records Departmen t is already the size of a whole city. If you think about it, it's not surprising really, Consider all the course of Human history, and all the histories of all the planets we have ever encountered, and all the knowledge, music, literdture and philosophy of all the races, and it isn't hard to see that some day we'll need a whole planet as a storehouse, I'hnv in lny job, in the light of all that information it lNuuld be easy to let yourself begin to think that it doesn't really matter if you don't record the exact number of shirts or whatever, as nobody will ever look at it anyway, But the fact is that I do believe it matters, and it's important. Keeping records, making them accurate, and arranging them for easy access and retrieval is my life's passion, Ever since I was a little girl I made it my business to learn everything T could about recording, T was always fascinated by the attempts of sentient species to make a permanent record of their thoughts and deed,;, whether it be Egypticln hieroglyphics, photography, or the spoken word, I learned all about hand notation, Betazoid hyper-writing, ilnd computerised records, A visit to the Rosetta stone in London, England, on Earth was one of mv bil'yest teenag, e thrills, _ (,j(J (J I've taken pleasure and joy in my work, cmc1 I can say truly and with no undue arrogance on my part that I am very good at my job, I don't suppose rd be in charge of keeping records on d Stdfship if I \'vasn't, 4 I'm side-tracking I Uhura came to see me in the middle of a busy day and told me that the Captain needed me to accompany him planetside for up to six days, and that we'd be leaving in about four hours. She suggested that I pack my gear, and as there was no time to waste she'd brief me as we went to my quarters. She told me that when I had a fuller understanding of what was required I would return to Records and collect the tools of my trade. We got to my cabin in double-quick time, and I began to throw together a bedroll and basic survival equipment. As I packed I listened to what she had to say. Apparently what had happened was this. A distress call had been received from Outpost 127, where a scientific colony of Federation personnel was based. It explained that there had been some sort of explosion, and several of the staff had been contaminated with radiation. Although medics were available, there was an urgent need for top-class facilities if the injured people were to survive. The Enterprise had been swiftly crossing a relatively empty section of space on its way to the rescue. As it sped through the void, still about three and a half days away from the outpost, scanners had registered a small ship travelling in the same direction as us but far ahead. Because we were going much faster we would have overtaken it in a matter of hours. Mr Spock had been particularly interested as sensors had indicated that it was of a design not known to the Federation. We had been too distant at that point to take any life readings. A watch was kept. As we had come closer Mr Spock had reported that the ship was definitely of a type unknown, and was crewed by eight life forms which were humanoid but not Human. There was no match with any previously encountered race. We had been travelling close to the limits of charted space at the time, and a possible conclusion was that the travellers were from a planet never before contacted by the Federation. Captain Kirk had begun to get excited. Uhura told me that at about that time the small ship's sensors must have detected the giant Starship following and gaining on it, because it had suddenly darted off and hidden behind the nearest heavenly body, so to speak. Despite efforts to hail the craft no reply had been received. The inference was that they were scared. The Captain had discllssed with Mr Spock the need for speed to reach Outpost 127 versus the missed opportunity to contact another potential member for the Federation. On being assured that a delay of few hours would not be crucial, he had ordered the Enterprise to halt and then cautiously approach the smaller vessel. Constantly broadcasting friendship messages, he had finally been rewarded with a reply. To cut a long story short, these turned out to be people of a race who called themselves Xen, from the planet Xen'ir. They had limited spaceflight, had been visited by offworlders in the past, and had then decided to go out and se what they could find for themselves. They had not previously contacted anything of the magnitude of the Federation and its giant Starship. Captain Kirk had decided to go for a First Contact. Preliminary exchanges of information indicated a civilisation ripe for membership, and a chance meeting like this should not be allowed to pass by. Kirk explained to the Xen commander (a man whose name we could not pronounce, so we simply resorted to calling him 'Commander',) that we were on a mercy mission, that OUI' ship had to go on but that the Entermise would be willin2: to leave a small team on the nearest suitable Dlanet to talk and 1 U 1 5 exchange information. In six days the Enterprise would return from the round trip to Outpost 127, and we could go on our separate ways, carrying information about each other to our appropriate superiors. The team of eight from each crew which Captain Kirk proposed didn't meet with Commander's approval. He didn't want to risk all his people away from his small ship at once, but did want to match numbers exactly with personnel from the Enterprise, not wishing to be ou tnumbered, we guessed. He was still clearly suspicious of the unknown race, and our superior firepower. He proposed going down himself, accompanied by just one other crewmember, possibly to be joined by others later if all seemed well. He requested that Captain Kirk join him on the surface, and that he bring just one other person. Commander indicated that he would bring a female Records Officer, to keep an account of all that was said at this important first meeting. Kirk agreed that he would do the same. Spock had checked the physical requirements of the Xen, and found them not dissimilar to ours. A suitable planet, listed as having no sentient inhabitants, was only six hours away and roughly on our path of travel. Agreement was made to meet there. That was two hours ago, and now we were four hours away from the planet, and I had that much time to get organised. The last two hours had been full of discussion and preparation at senior levels. By the time Uhura finished briefing me I had not got a great deal of time left to get ready and report to the transporter room. I had a thorough shower, and put my hair up in a tight style so that it wouldn't get messy on the unknown planet. Most exploration is insulated behind the walls of a ship. This would be the real thing. I agonised over whether to wear dress uniform (after all, it was a First Contact, and protocol was important) or whether to consider instead the need for comfort for survival in unknown conditions. No-one had given specific orders in that respect. I opted for the latter, and selected a warm but light jumpsuit, which had numerous pockets. I packed them with a few personal things like chocolate ([ love the stuff) and handkerchiefs (I'm allergic to just about any pollen I've ever encountered on any planet, and for all I knew we could be beaming down to a jungle in the middie of summer.) I made sure that I looked really smart. I didn't want the Captain to find any fault. I strapped on my equipment belt, clipped on my communicator, and taking a last look around the cabin I picked up my small holdall and went to visit Security. Any crew going planetside regularly dravvs phasers, so I signed one out, clipped it alongside my communicator, and after dashing to g<'t a n1<'al] went back to Records. Once there I picked up my recording case. This is rather like a briefcase, but when you open it it's an absolute marvel of computerised circuits, electronic wizardry and state of the art tricorder and universal translator technology. It's not standard Starfleet issue, although components of it are. My parents had given it to me when I was assigned to the Enterprise. It was very expensive. In the culture from which] spring a girl gets a dowry when she marries. In my parents' social class this may be a house or other dwelling for the couple. When it became clear that I didn't need a house when I 'married' StarfIeet, I guess they reckoned I might as well have a dowry anyway, and they gave me my case. I treasure it. If it was going to be my job to record everything that was said on this First Contact I was going to make sure I did the best job anyone could. I wasn't going to miss one grunt, one gesture, one word. Not on this mission. When the time came 1 was all packed and ready to go. The door of the transporter room swished open and in came Captain Kirk, followed by Mr Spock and Dr McCoy. They stopped just inside and the Captain looked me up and down, then glanced at my gear, which was in a 6 small pile at my feet. He too was wearing standard rather than dress uniform. I don't think he even realised he was inspecting me; I think he did it automatically, scanning constantly to see that everything on his Starship was as it should be. He didn't comment on my appearance or gear, and I took that to mean he hadn't registered any fault. Approval by lack of disapproval. I was glad I'd made the effort. He simply inclined his head towards me. "Hussen," he said. "Sir." I snapped to attention. He smiled. "Let's get going." He headed for the transporter platform. I was surprised when Mr Spock picked up my gear for me and swung it effortlessly onto the transporter pad. He placed it next to a larger pile which I assumed was Kirk's personal gear and token gifts for the Xen. "Thank you," I said, but he didn't reply. "Take it easy, Jim," Dr McCoy said with a smile. ''We'll be back for you in six days." Captain Kirk simply held up his hand as if to say, "Bye'. "You have the con," he said to Mr Spock, then simply, "Mr. Kyle," and the transporter shimmer took us. We materialised on the edge of a plain which rippled with a plant that on this planet passed for grass. To the other side of us the ground sloped up, and we could see that the land became rougher as it rose to foothills strewn with boulders, and finally to high hills, but not to mountains. The tops were shrouded in mist. There was no precipitation at present, but looking at the cloud,; that scudded on a blustery wind, rain seemed imminent. Low scrub and woodland was beginning to colonise the lower slopes and the edges of the plain. The Captain looked around. "Spock chose carefully," he approved. "There should be \vater just up ahead in the next valley." And indeed there was. We carried our packs just a short distance and found an ideal spot to make a base. There was a flat piece of land a short distance above a small fast-flowing river. We didn't want to be too close to the watercourse in case it should flood if it rained. There was a small rock face which seemed to have caves along it, perhaps excavated by water when the river had once been higher. They looked as if they might be useful if we needed shelter. The Captain suggested we pile our equipment in one place and then wait for our visitors. I unpacked a few things, activated the recorder, and tied in the universal translator. While we waited for the agreed meeting hour we had the time to do a swift preliminary survey. With tricorders going at full speed we checked out the air, soil and water for poisonous elements, and even had time to test a few of the local plants for toxicity. Very little on this planet was edible; perhaps one or two of the tubers, but mainly only the fruit of a few of the small trees and shrubs we had seen growing, gave any hope at all of fresh supplies. We didn't have very long to wait. We heard the hum of a transporter, similar to ours, just across the stream on the other side of the valley, and saw four figures materialise. Four! 7 Captain Kirk and I exchanged glances. Was this treachery already, when agreements had clearly stated mo? The Captain's hand went to his phaser. So did mine. "Gently," he said to m<', and turned to face the advancing Xen, I took up a position just behind and to the side of my Captain's right shoulder. I was not Security, but if it came to a fire fight, J was going to do everything J could to protect him. The Xen commander was an extremely man. Tall and dark, his skin olive hand~ome coloured like my own, he appeared strong and confident. The female at his side projected an aura of stillness. She had an economy of movement about her that promised great agility if required. We sized each other up across the decreasing distance. Behind them came mo men who could have been twins. Shorter then the Commander, they stared straight ahead as they strode toward, us. Captain Kirk took a step forward and we faced one another across the narrow channel water. "Greetings, Commander of the Xen," he said formally. "On behalf of the United Federation of Planets, may J express our delight at contacting a new people. We hope that our chance meeting will leads to much progress and friendship between our races." The Xen male made a gesture with his left hand which amounted to holding it out palm up then palm down three times alternately. I made a mental note to ask him the exact meaning lilter, but under the circumstances I assumed (hoped!) that it was a gesture of greeting and peace. In a low and complex language, more burr and slur than clipped consonants, he replied. The transla tor told us, "We Xen are in trigued by your presence and your claim to represent so many worlds. We share your hopes of friendship. If what you say is true, there is much we can learn fTom you." Preliminary courtesies having been exchanged, I wondered wha t came next. The Captain glanced at me and muttered, "Start as you mean to go on," and then he said aloud, "Commander, we are on the brink of a historic meeting. I must say, therefore, before we begin - and I apologise if I offend the way of the Xen - that our agreement was for two representatives of each craft to meet, and it would seem that you have brought four. Is this hmv the Xen begin an exercise in trust?" There was a moment's silence, and I felt the Captain tense, but the Xen Commander'S expression seemed to be one of genuine puzzlement. He turned to his companion and they discussed something quickly before he turned back to us. "Captain," he said, "you need not apologise. You do not insult us. We have kept the agreement. These ... " and he indicated the 'mins', "they are ... " He hesitated, and the translator faltered for a moment before finally coming up with "droids." The Commander called them forward, and close up we could see that they were indeed sophisticated androids. The Xen gave some further gestured instructions and the whole group of four made their way over some rocks in the bed of the narrow river to join us on our bank. He indicated that we should examine them more closely if \ve needed to, but now it was obvious, despite their extremely life-like appearance, that they were simply drone robots of the personal servant type, which we had previously encountered among other races. Trust having been established and the ice having been broken, so to speak, there began a whole series of gestures of friendship and diplomatic 'courting'. It was clear that the Xen 8 wanted to know as much about us as we did about them. We sat together and exchanged artefacts. We recorded each other's lifesigns on our respective tricorders, and mostly we just talked and talked. As night fell we built a small fire not far from where an overhanging rock gave some shelter from the breeze. We exchanged food and drink, and told tales of the Federation. Eventually I remember hardly being able to keep my eyes open. Captain Kirk dismissed me and I went to lie down against the rock wall, wrapped in a blanket. Gradually I dropped off to sleep while I watched the fire die to embers and listened to the drone of the voices of the Xen and the Captain and the universal translator as they talked on, deep into the night. What woke me, I think, was the dampness. I felt cold and clammy, and part of my brain told me to move, that I shouldn't be cold and clammy, but mostly I experienced a reluctance to come awake. It was like the feeling some people experience when they are coming out of a general anaesthetic. Something was wrong. I realised that I didn't feel well. Much, much too sleepy and woolly, not like waking from a normal sleep at all. I felt drugged. Drugged! I struggled and opened my eyes. I was still wrapped in my blanket, still turned close against the rock wall. It was daylight, but very grey with scudding clouds and a penetrating drizzle. That explained the dampness of my blanket and clothes, which had been made wet as the wind blew the moisture under the overhanging rock where I lay. If it hadn't been for that small overhang I would have been soaked. I rolled sluggishly over onto my back and then to my other side, to look over to where last night's fire had been. Captain Kirk lay tumbled on the ground next to the soggy pile of ashes. Out in the open, without the protection of a blanket or the cliffs, he was wet through. I was concerned for him. I couldn't see if he was injured, but I could see that his clothes were stuck to him, and his hair was plastered to his head. Droplets ran down his face and dripped into the mud. Of the Xen and their droids there was no sign. And there was no sign of anything else, either. It looked as if they'd taken all of our equipment, including my 'supercase'. I cursed them savagely in my mind. Movement was an effort. My hand went under the blanket to the belt at my waist. It was still there! I couldn't believe it. I actually had my communicator and phaser. Perhaps they hadn't dared to search in the tangled blanket, where I'd rolled on top of the small items, for fear of the risk of waking me. I pushed the blanket off me and moved a bit further across the ground. Some of the wooliness receded as cold rain splashed into my face. I managed to crawl across to the Captain. I shook him, but he didn't wake. I felt for his pulse. It was strong, if slow, and he was breathing normally, thank goodness. But his skin was cold to the touch - very cold. I looked up. By the quality of the light it must have been mid to late afternoon; we had been lying there for the night and the best part of a day. I had been slightly covered and sheltered, but the Captain had been right out in the rain, and if I didn't dp something quickly he'd end up suffering from exposure, if he wasn't already. I shook him again, hoping he would wake, but there was still no response, I struggled to my feet. The world wobbled a bit around the edges at first, but steadied quickly enough, I decided that I had to get the Captain under cover and warm as quickly as possible. 9 The overhanging rock behind us was the best bet. I explored qUickly, and it did in fact deepen into quite a good cave. It would have to do. I went back to the Captain and straightened him out onto his back. Hooking my hand, under his arms, I heaved. In a succession of about twenty tugs I managed to get him about as far back as we could go, I piled up a heap of small rocks next to us and heated them with the phaser. The glow they gave off would warm our little cave for quite a while. Uprooting a few bushes and young trees, I put up a quick screen across the entrance. It was poor, but it stopped the worst of the wind and rain, I collected my muddy blanket, tucked one end into a crack in the rock, held the other end to straighten it, and dried it by using the lowest setting on the phaser. The water evaporated in a hiss of steam, I then did the same thing with Captain Kirk's shirt. It wasn't easy to take it off him, as it was cold and clammy and stuck to him, but I managed it. I debated the rest of his clothes, then decided against it. If they had got him with the same drug they'd used on me, probably administered in the drink they had shared, he'd come round soon enough, though he'd had more of it than I had. If I could raise his temperature that would help, then he could take care of getting the rest of him dry himself. I used his dry shirt to dry him off. I rubbed his skin until it glowed, rubbed his hilir dry ilnd then quickly zapped the shirt with the phaser again and put it back on him while it was still warm, Finally, I wrapped him in the blanket. My own jumpsuit was fast drying out with the warmth of my physical activity and my proximity to the phasered rocks. Bless all phasers, I thought as I went down to the stream and looked for something to carry water in. A hoi drink will be .'lex:.! for us, I thought, but there was nothing suitable to be found at all. Finally I broke some wood, hollowed out a section with the phaser and used that. While there I washed my face and hands, rinsed my mouth and drank plenty, What I took back would be needed by the Captain. On the way back to the cave I searched again in the campfire area, but there was simply nothing left, I hadn't missed anvthing, , v I ducked into our makeshift shelter and gut dry again. Shortly afterwards the Captain stirred. I knelt beside him, but wasn't in too much of a hurry to try and explain to him what had happened, or even ask how he was. If he felt anything like I had done when I came round, he would be too disorientated to take much in at first. I stayed by him, but kept my eyes averted. No-one likes to be stared at when they're at their worst. I suppose I was torn between helping, and wanting to allow him privacy, At first, he was simply aware, Then he became aware that he was aware, Then I could almost sense him working out where he was and what had happened. After a good few minutes he developed the desire to move. I didn't refrain any longer, but helped him to a sitting position and offered him some water. He drank it thirstily and swilled a mouthful ilround before turning aside and spitting it out. I knew how he felt. He sighed deeply and shivered. "I suppose they've gone?" he asked more rhetorically than ilnything else. I nodded, "And they've taken everything," I told him, He shuddered. "If you'll allow me, sir?" I said by way of asking permission, and I laid a hand on his forehead, He felt hot. "How do you feel?"