Dreams...Ghosts of the Past "
By: Dr. Alyssa Caitlin Northrop, Intel Officer, [PST]

Stardate: 58205.15 0400

The ruffle of sheets broke the silence in the dark bedroom. Starlight filtered in through the large windows that made up the outer wall, casting the room in a pale semi-light. There wasn't enough to call it anything else.

On the bed the body of a woman tossed and turned, her hair getting tangled as she tossed. It was jet black, like the view outside the windows above her head. Her pale skin was a stark contract to all the blackness around her. Her face fairly glowed in the starlight.

Upon closer inspection, one would note that her features appeared pained. Then a voice, her voice, split the quiet, though it was not very loud itself, "No....No...Professor Morita...."

Alyssa Northrop was dreaming. Though perhaps nightmare would more appropriate a term for it. She began to thrash, the dark red silk of her nightgown gliding against the slightly harsher material of her sheets and blanket causing more of the rustling sound heard before.

"Please....we're not Tomb Robbers.....we're archeologists!" she screamed out, "The Government allowed us to come here...to study the ruins!"

Alyssa looked from the eyes of her mentor up to the eyes of the leader of the group that had them cornered. "Please....we mean no harm. Let us go...and we'll leave the ruins."

Morita was gravely injured. He had been shot by the mob as they had fled the dig site. These people thought they were grave robbers.....Tomb Raiders. They were wrong, but no amount of stating that fact would make them believe otherwise. They had plagued the dig for weeks. Almost from the time they had arrived at the site. Despite the fact that they had permits to be there from the Pellan Government, these particular Pellans didn't want them there. It seemed that they were willing to do whatever it took to make sure no one disturbed the ruins here. "You two are the leaders of this band of theives. You are here to steal our past, our history, our heritage. This cannot be allowed."

The mob's leader's eyes buned in hatred as he pointed his weapon at Northrop and her fallen mentor. "We tried to persuade you to leave in a non-violent fashion. But you would not listen. You forced us into this."

The man came closer, lowering his gun. "And now you will pay for your crimes."

The others in the group, eight in all, fanned out around them in a circle. They kept their projectile weapons drawn and aimed at Morita and Northop as their leader drew a very nasty looking knife. Grabbing Alyssa by the hair, he yanked her up to her feet.....and held the knife to her throat. "In the name of our God...."

The man never finished the sentence. Before he could, the air filled with the sound of a transporter. The sound was next replaced with a group of armed Starfleet Officers....most of the dressed in Yellow. At the head was a red shirted man Alyssa recognized, "ROBBY! HELP ME!" she screamed.

After that, all hell broke loose. The members of the mob opened up on the Starfleet crew....who broke formation and dove for cover. They returned fire soon after.....downing foes or forcing them to dive for cover. One of the women called for her leader, "NOLAN! LEAVE HER! GET DOWN!"

Nolan hastily drew the blade across Alyssa's throat....but it didn't penetrate fully. As he dove for cover, she fell....clamping her hands to her throat hard....fearing the worst. Her eyes were huge with fear. She could feel her own blood seeping through her fingers.

Lt. Commander Robert Northop saw his baby sister go down.....and lept from his place behind the cover of a rock. He fired his phaser, downing another Pellan as the others in his team took care of the rest. In a second, Robert was at Alyssa's side. "It's ok Lys....It'll be ok."

Alyssa watched as he tapped his comm badge, everything moving in slow motion. "Northrop to Perseus, lock on to my comm signal. Three to beam directly to Sickbay. We've got two seriously wounded."

But a moment later, the transporter effect took over....removing them from the surface of Pella V and replacing them in the middle of the USS Pegasus' Sickbay. Doctors converged on them....pulling Alyssa from her brother's arms. Morita was lifted onto a table, as was the female archeologist. The full barrage of Starfleet Medical Technology was brought to bear......however, in the end, only one of the two survived. Professor Harold Morita was declared dead....not long after they beamed aboard.

Back in the darkened room, tears filled Alyssa's eyes and began to run down her face. Her eyes shot open...just as in her mind the CMO was telling her of her mentor's death. "NO! PLEASE GODS NO!"

Her hands moved to her face as she wept openly. "Sensei....," she whimpered.

The tears leaked between her fingers and fell down, staining the red silk of her nightgown. Her brother had been just in time to save her....but had been only moments too late to save her mentor. She never blamed Robby.....it wasn't his fault. He hadn't shot Morita. She blamed Nolan.....and his band of thugs.

After a few moments, Alyssa was able to get herself back under contol.....and slowly slipped out of bed. Moving over to a shelf, she lifted a cerimonial Japanese sword our of it's holder. It was her most prized possesion. Morita's wife, Kagome, had wanted her to have it. The older woman had said that the sword had been passed down through the Morita Clan for generations. But since Kagome and Harold had no children, she wanted Alyssa to have it. She had said that Harold had always thought of Alyssa as the daughter he'd never had.

As she stood there, holding the sword in her hands, Morita's words filtered though her mind, "No matter how old you get, Alyssa...there is always more to learn. You simply have to see the opportunities. Who knows what direction those opportunities will take you? Never stop growing. For a person that does so is a fool."

Apparently her path had led her here. To the Zion. Alyssa had always wondered about the afterlife. As she stood there, she thought that maybe there was something to it. Maybe Professor Morita was looking in on her....trying to point her in the direction of an opportunity that she didn't want to see. The only thing she could think of was the Chief Warrant Officer's tests. Could that be what this was all about? Her subconscious mind dredging up maybe one of the worst moments in her life to push her towards taking that test? "Never stop learning," he had said. Well, maybe it was time to learn again.

Arrival "
By: Ian Hunter, Commanding Officer, [PC]

Stardate: 58205.15 1100

"I have the warden on a secure com channel Captain," barked the console. Hunter, who had been reading daily reports in his ready room acknowledged the call. "Patch it through to me here." he said.

A haggard looking Klingon appeared on his screen. "Welcome back to our little gulag Captain Hunter. We've been expecting you. "

"General Barlok, I had no idea you were still commandant after all these years." The klingon grinned, "How many can boast dominion over an entire planetoid?" he replied in jest.

Hunter smiled and nodded his head. "Did you get my request?" he asked.

Barlok scowled, "Things may not be as harsh as they once where, but visitors!? I have a reputation to maintain!"

"The Alien's Graveyard?" queried Hunter.

Barlok snapped his fingers. "Yes! The Alien's Graveyard!" Then, he slammed his hand on his desk, "We will still send a man to his death if he disobeys."

"I understand." said Hunter, "but will you allow it?"

The warden scowled again, "Only because it is you."

"Thank-you, Dr. Dane and I will beam down to the surface when we arrive."

A displeased look crossed Barlok's face. "I...can't allow that. You will have to come down on the transport with the prisoners. We do not drop the magnetic field for any reason."

"Understood."

Barlok continued, "The transport will commence at 0600. Your prisoners will be beamed aboard and then delivered to the surface. The transport is meeting 3 other ships. It will make several trips to and from the surface as it transports the prisoners to the surface and dilythium back up to a cargo ship."

Hunter nodded as Barlok spoke.

"The transport leaves for the last time at tomorrow at 2359. If you are not on it, you will be stranded here for 30 days until it comes back again.

Lost love and memories "
By: Craig Witmore, Engineer, [RNPC]

Stardate: 58205.15 2030

It was dark when Craig Witmore entered his quarters. From his port window he noticed Rura Penthe, the ice planet. People who were sent there were forgotten. Disappering in oblivion. He suddenly felt sad, and a thought of his beloved popped up in his mind.

This was certainly strange. Enjoyable. He hadnt thought of her for years. How many? An entire age, perhaps. And such beautiful memories to have set aside. There was a poem she liked. Which was it? She liked long poems and epics. She had such patience........ who reads epics? She read them aloud sometimes, all in one sitting. And so well for an untrained voice. Or have the years made it sound better? Craig did not know. Suddenly a poem came to mind.

Absence, like dainty clouds, On glorious bright, Natures weak senses shrowds, from harming light Absence maintains the treasure of pleasure unto pleasure Sparing with praise; Absence doth nurse the fire, Which starves and feeds desire With sweet delays.

Craig heard it read before. And hadnt thought of it since. Listened to and forgotten; his memory caught up with the girl and her voice and not the poem, yet how he remembered and re-experience every word every syllable, every nuance. The meanings of the words together, their meanings separately, even the music of the letters. The whole poem.

He had paid little attention in the classes he signed up for especially since he only signed up for it so he could walk Laura there every other day.

Old experiences that he thought had faded came charging back in full light. Craig walked over to the window and looked outside. So many stars, so many races, would she be out there?

Dead relatives, missing comrades, absent friends, friends who also died, one after an other they came to visit him in his silent place here and he re-experienced them, from pleasure to pain, and he felt him self cry.

Turning from the window Craig walked towards his sleeping area, silently he removed his cloths and lay down on the bed, covering himself with fresh crisp, cold sheets. Finally he fell asleep dreaming of the past, of Laura his sweet.

Log Index | Go to Stardate 58205.16