“Wanna live like an animal,

By the skin of your teeth.

Put your good face on, not foolin’ no one,

You’re a jackrabbit underneath.”

Sam Fermin.(2015)

 

Have you ever played ‘Chicken’?

Sure you have. It’s okay, you can tell me. After all, we’re all friends here right?

If you have and you’d admit to it, then you’ll know the thrill of what it’s like to be a modern – day medieval knight, looking down the quavering shaft of your metaphorical lance as you stare down (and, in turn, are stared down by) your opponent.

The tense knot of excitement gripping your bowels at the prospect of what is to come. The indeterminable seconds before launch stretching somehow into an elongated parody of time. The electric rush down your spine as you suddenly lurch forward, gathering speed. The headlong rush towards the ultimate contestation of wills and possibly oblivion.

Maybe you did it on a bike, laces trailing, snot – nose streaming in the slipstream, legs pumping the pedals for all you’re worth, sweaty hands firm on the handlebars, eyes forward and intent, fate rushing on?

Or maybe you’re made of sterner stuff and are like your chaos of the slightly more unhinged, automotive variety? Fists resolute on the steering wheel, foot mashing the gas pedal to the floor, gauges leaping into the redline and beyond, the scorch of rubber, onward to victory or death?

But I bet you’ve never contemplated doing it in a 578.5 -meter long starship going Warp 9.99, have you?

That’s an act of near – suicidal bravado that really takes a pair.

Of course, the key thing, the definative deciding factor about playing the game of ‘Chicken’, the ultimate contents of wills, is that someone (hopefully the other guy. Maybe You) has to break first, and that’s what makes the game what it is and so much fun.

As one opponent’s sense of self – preservation overcomes their pervading machismo and they turn aside at the very last moment, the day is won and the victor crowned triumphant, leaving the naysayers choking on their dust.

In vanishingly rare instances fate puts together two adversaries, neither of which will or are capable of, backing down from a challenge and the resulting carnage says more about the inevitability of stubborn individual obstinacy that it does about society. A clean up crew will come and cart the wrecks away, maybe sad words are said over a bar – top somewhere and their memory is reduced to a bunch of brown, wilted flowers and a waterlogged card that is no longer legible – tied to a telegraph pole on some forgotten highway.

In most instances though, the game only works if both protagonists know the rules and agree to abide by them.

But what happens when one opponent not only doesn’t know the rules, but lives an existence where the rules don’t really apply to them.

The Loom are one such species.

Effectively omnipotent and definitely omnipresent, these rumbustiously – terrifying tentacled predators of time and space would scythe between the thin meniscus that separated parallel dimensions, seeking out those transgressors with the temerity to stray from the bounds of the universe from which they had been born.

Under which authority they did so, none could say and by the impunity with which they acted it was reasonable to infer that The Loom acted as they saw fit. They would hunt down their prey with unerring efficiency and thus ensnared, eradicate them from existence and memory with lethal precision,  staying the hands of time to ensure their victims could not evade them once more.

In all aspects, a hell of a shitty choice of opponent when you are fixing to play a game of ‘Chicken’.

But that’s exactly what Commander Rozu did.

With a mounting sense of horror and dread the Executive Officer and crew of the USS Vigilant watched the swarming mass of The Loom manifest from a temporal instability created around the 22^nd century NX – class vessel, the SS Challenger, a writhing predatory mass of creatures, some 5 – 6 meters long with a bifurcated, many – eyed heads and a morass of swirling tentacles, currently strobing a deep blue color that denoted the creatures curiosity about the morsal they had returned to feed upon.

“Target’s confirmed. One Hundred Plus.” Lieutenant Thath Jarthell, the ships Tellarite Tactical Officer reported, as he tracked The Loom with the Duderstadt – class vessel’s sophisticated targeting sensors.

“They’re closing on the Challenger, Sir. Preparing a firing – solution. Ready to fire on your command.”

Rozu’s habitually ‘devil – may – care’ masque had taken on a sudden, more serious aspect.

The Loom were an adversary that no one onboard had ever faced before, what they knew about these mysterious creatures was limited to file information and, in Rozu’s experience, you really had to get to ‘know’ an enemy, if you were intent on taking them on.

The cautious Orion officer nodded but held a green – hand up to the Tactical Officer, holding him at launch for now.

“T’Shon? What are The Loom doing?” Rozu sat forward in the captain’s chair, putting an elbow on his knee and resting his handsome chin on a fist. At present the forward viewscreen showed the tentacled creates swirling around the pancake – flat hulled NX – 03, like a circle of sharks prowling around a cloud of smaller fish.

Waiting to feed.

Lieutenant – Commander T’Shon, the phlegmatic Vulcan Chief Science Officer, consulted the readout from the Vigilant’s adept sensor – pallets and considered what she was seeing for a moment before giving her conclusion to the XO.

“The Loom appear to have adopted a murmuration wave pattern around the Challenger, a behaviour that currently appears benign. Our sensors show marked phase variations of Tachyon – Radiation concurrent with the swarm passing in and out of temporal phase. It is reasonable to assume that they have ensnared the Challenger and it’s occupants in a localized sphere of transubstantiated space/time, effectively slowing down relative time to a standstill for the occupants of the ship.” The Vulcan postulated.

“Your hypothesis as to this behaviour?” Rozu prompted him uneasily.

“Previous encounters with The Loom do not denote individualistic intelligence, rather that they act with coordinated social cohesion and communication. These are attributed commonly with predatory species, allowing the pack protection from other predators, whist optimizing hunting – efficiency. Their current state might suggest that they are ‘sizing-up’ their prey, working out the best strategy to approach as a cooperative, before engaging and taking it down.” T’Shon shrugged unemotionally. Everything with the Vulcan sounded worryingly like a hypothetical.

Rozu nodded. If he did not take decisive action now, the Captain and the away team were certainly doomed to oblivion at the tentacles of The Loom.

“OPS! Take us to red alert!” The Commander directed and the duty Ops officer duly sounded the alarm that would take the ship’s compliment to its highest state of readiness and Tactical raised the shields. The emergency lighting state dimmed the light on the bridge to a dull, monochrome blood- red and the warning Klaxon sounded throughout the interior of the ship.

“Helm, plot an intercept course with the SS Challenger, evasive pattern Zula – Alpha – Seven!” Rozu gripped the armrests of the ‘Big – Chair’, as the young pilot who was filling the seat recently vacated by Ensign Lewis, gunned the lithe – vessel’s powerful impulse drives and the fleet – footed fast cruiser slid forward eagerly.

“Tactical! Let’s get their attention!” Rozu smiled grimly. Pick a portion of the outer edge of the Swarm and fire a salvo of Photon Torpedoes. Set your fusing to point detonation. We don’t want to damage the Challenger!”

“With pleasure!” The stout little Tellarite smiled thinly and they hull resounded to the muted rhythm of the crafts four forward facing launchers as they sent one, two, three, four sleek Photon – munitions winging towards the seething mass of The Loom, engines burning crimson – bright in the night dark of space.

“Torpedo’s away and tracking. Range to target 500,000 km and closing.” Thath reported in a businesslike murmur, his intent, bearded pig – like features backlight from the screen wash from his targeting readouts.

“Impact in Six seconds.”

Rozu watched with bated breath and the bright necklace of torpedo’s converged with their targets with lethal finality.

“Two seconds to detonation.” Jarthell maintained his countdown.

“I’m reading a change in the temporal phase variation of The Loom.” T’Shon reported evenly. “The appear to be reacting to the incoming torpedoes.”

Commander Rozu watched with great consternation as the creatures of The Loom, tentacles suddenly flaring from cool – blue to an angry red color, suddenly turned indistinct and non – corporeal. A strange spectacle, where their writing forms could see seen, yet not seen. Ghost images flowing around the Challenger.

“Torpedo lock lost.” Thath scowled with chagrin. “Munitions did not detonate, the Tactical officer added needlessly.

“It would seem our guests are a little cannier than we gave them credit for.” The XO admitted.

“A group is breaking off from the main body of the Loom and is on an intercept vector with us, Commander.” The Tactical Officer grunted, as if the actions of the predators was a personal affront.

“Helm. Evasive maneuvers. We need to keep distance between us and the incoming swarm.” Rozu commanded. In response the helmsman carved a curving course away from the oncoming attackers.

“Tactical! Let’s see what our phasers can do!” Rozu ordered. “Target the incoming Loom and fire at will.”

The familiar hazing fizz of the Duderstadt’s powerful Type – XIV Phasers sounded, the effect dopplering and migrating around the hull as the sleek – bellied ship canted, zoomed and dived – maintaining the effective distance between pursuer and pursued and the different arrays offered themselves a clear field of fire upon the targets.

“Negligible effect!” Thath swore frustratedly as the main viewer confirmed the bright lances of phasic – energy were passing harmlessly through the onrushing bodies of The Loom, who were closing with execrable – certainty.

Rozu frowned massively, without any way to hit back, it was only a matter of time before The Loom came close enough to ensnare the USS Vigilant in that same mire of ‘sticky’ slow – time, at which point their fates would be sealed.

Redemption came, as it so often did, from the Chief Science Officer.

“Lieutenant.” T’Shon spoke, as calm as a summer’s breeze. “I have taken the opportunity to study The Loom’s phase harmonic variations from rest and transposed them with the reactions to both the Photon Torpedo strike and our Phaser salvos. I believe I have identified a pattern to the variations. Routing a subroutine to your board now. Whilst I can’t guarantee how long the effect may last until The Loom adapt to it, it should give our attacks some ‘teeth’, if only for a little while.

Rozu smiled at the Vulcan.

“For now, I’ll take what I can get, Commander! Tactical, lay in the parameters and adjust our fire to the new phase -harmonics! Fire at will!”.

The deck canted and lurched as the Vigilant was trailed by the pursuing creatures of the Loom and, after a brief pause whilst Thath updated the emissions protocols to each of the phaser – arrays, bright lances of energy stabbed out once more, this time making connection with the writhing mass of oncomes, who flailed under the assault and were slowed, but ultimately were not deterred by their pursuit.

“We’ve bloodied their noses, but they still appear eager for the fight!” Lieutenant Jarthell observed as he fired again and again into the seething mass.

Commander Rozu swore inwardly. T’Shon’s shrewd tactic had brought them a little time, but was a pyrrhic – victory at best if the couldn’t deter the remainder of The Loom from the time – frozen 22^nd century vessel and also avoid being ensnared in the same net.

“T’Shon, I find myself playing Dabo with a dead – man’s hand here?” Rozu called out to the scientist. “We need some way of turning this situation from one of defense and taking the fight to The Loom directly?” The Orion reasoned aloud.

The Vulcan though about this quandary for a moment.

“What you ask is impossible, Commander.” T’Shon shook her head neutrally. “The Loom have demonstrated remarkable adaptability to our attacks. It is logical to infer that they will continue to do so with greater alacrity, learning from each attack until they have effectively negated our advantage to zero.”

Rozu slammed his fist on the arm of the captain’s chair in impotent frustration.

“I can’t believe we have to do nothing and just take this!” The Orion protested.

T’Shon raised a mildly quizzical eyebrow at this outburst and countered factually. “I did not say that there we were without options, Commander. Rather I logically concluded that our current strategy will ultimately meet with failure, if we continue. To persevere, we must change the rules of engagement.” She added pointedly.

Rozu peered suspiciously at the Vulcan.

“I take it that you have something in mind?”

T’Shon nodded sagely and explained, “The Loom is animalistic in motivation and drawn to feed on sources of Temporal anomaly.”

The scientist reasoned. “Currently their point of focus is upon the SS Challenger, presumably due to the proximity of the Displaced and our Away Team. It is logical to suppose that, given a more compelling source of paradox, that they might re-direct their attention away from the Captain and to that more attractive source of sustenance?”

Commander Rozu followed the Vulcan’s train of logic and found that the station that it had pulled into was one he was not keen to visit, but considered himself to be out of options.

“Something like the Vigilant?” Rozu smiled uneasily, uncomfortable with the implications.

The Vulcan inclined her head. “Indeed.”

The Orion grimaced and then drew himself up straight in the chair.

“Well, my mother did always tell me that my capacity to annoy was almost without precedent.” Rozu smiled grimly. “ A 25^th century fast cruiser is probably one of the more attractive items on the menu, I suppose, but how do we stop The Loom from moving on to cigars and coffee – namely us?”

T’Shon considered this and then said, “Based upon the Tachyonic phase – variance we observe from our interactions with The Loom, I should be able to create a heuristic learning – algorithm to modulate & rotate the pattern – harmonics of our Multiphasic Shield array to protect us from the worst temporal effects of The Loom. The Challenger and ships of its vintage lack such shielding systems, but it should prevent The Loom from being able to breach our hull.”

Rozu didn’t like the odds that the ‘should’ inferred but nodded, “Make it so, like yesterday.”

T’Shon nodded and went about making the necessary adjustments to the shields.

They couldn’t kill the Loom, but they could surely get their attention and the Commander was reasonably sure that the Duderstadt was fast enough and agile enough to draw The Loom away from the Challenger and give Captain Hyland a fighting chance at survival.

The were about to become the fleet – Jackrabbit to The Loom’s ravenous coursers.

Rozu took a deep breath.

“Helm!” He ordered, trying to keep his voice calm and level. He was about to do a very brave thing or a very stupid thing.

Possibly both.

“Bring us about to face The Loom. Make your course the SS Challenger. Full impulse. One straight line! Engage !” Rozu barked.

Like a gyring – raptor, the USS Vigilant came smoothly about and reversed her course. The main forward viewscreen was suddenly filled with the oncoming rush of the section of the Loom that had been pursuing them.

Starfleet had a history of putting its faith in Science and this time it paid off again.

The angular hull of the Duderstadt, now cosseted in a metaphasic shield harmonic that modulated and adapted to the indistinct forms of The Loom, slammed bodily into the oncoming mass of creatures, sending them this way and that in a howl of frustration as the Starfleet vessel carved a path straight through them.

“Take that you flagellating pieces of shit!” Lieutenant Thath Jarthell smiled nastily as they slammed through the writing bodies, which were able to phase through the protection of the shielding and mire its occupants with its temporal trap.

The ultimate game of ‘Chicken’.

Onward the USS Vigilant sped, free now from the group of The Loom that had detached in pursuit, Commander Rozu guided the ship towards the main body of the creatures, who had started to penetrate the hill of the SS Challenger.

Rozu just hoped that they were in time.

“Well.” He breathed out a long breath. “Let’s make a nuisance of ourselves and become the most annoying person in the room! Tactical! Fire Phasers at will! Helm! Take us right through the middle of The Loom. Try not to take all the paint off!!”

The UFP Starfleet vessel fell upon the creature swarming the hull of the stricken and stranded UAE Starfleet vessel like an avenging banshee, spitting fire in all direction at the chaotic profusion of tentacled bodies, using its shields like a battering ram as it plough through their numbers and presented a far – greater threat.

“It’s working!” Lieutenant Jarthell confirmed, “The main body are disengaging from the Challenger and are in pursuit! We’ve really pissed them the hell off!!” The Tellarite chuckled wryly.

His mother would have been proud.

“Acknowledged. Good work, people!” Commander Rozu allowed himself a moment of reprise, the events of the last few minutes reaffirming his faith in this odd, motley collection of misfits that comprised the crew.

Their problems were just beginning through. Now that the USS Vigilant was now squarely the point of attention to a horde of very pissed – off interdimensional predators, what the hell was he going to do with them next!?

It seemed to Rozu that he had made his choice. It was clear that they had to lure The Loom away from the NX-03 and that, whatever Captain Hyland had to do next in her hunt for the Displaced members of their crew, she would have to do so without the advantages of 25^th century know – how.

Commander Rozu had willing taken the on role of the Jackrabbit, now it was up to him to lure The loom down a series of rabbit – holes and keep them distracted long enough for Sam to find Captain Hansen and Six of Eleven and find some way to link back up and get them all home back to the Prime Universe.

First things first though.

Straightening his uniform tunic and resolved to his course of action, Commander Rozu made sure his voice sounded more assured and confident than he really felt inside and gave the order.

 

“Helm! Set a course for the Probe – Net and take us to Maximum Emergency Warp! ENGAGE!!”