Part of USS Odyssey: Into The Jaws of Death, Into The Mouth of Hell and Bravo Fleet: Blood Dilithium

Forty-Seven – Part 1

USS Odyssey (NCC-80000) Gradin Belt, Delta Quadrant
Stardate: 77838.47
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Thirteen minutes had passed, and their attempts to retake the ship were being hampered in every direction they could find. Nervously, Acting Captain Duncan paced around the pool table in engineering as he allowed those that were left to do their jobs. The ship was now at high warp after Hunsen and T’Rani had found a way to transfer helm control to the bridge. The vessel was heading towards the telepathic pitcher plant, and there seemed no way out of it.

“Any luck, Lukiz?” Duncan asked the joined Trill.

Looking up from the station he had been working on, Jen nodded at his superior. “I’ve bypassed most of the lockouts that Hunsen has placed after we reactivated command functions. Give it a try now.”

“Computer,” Duncan said, “Recognise Duncan, Maxwell Jack, Alpha-Two clearance.”

The computer beeped before responding. “Priority clearance recognition, Alpha Two.”

“Isolate all remaining command functions and accept related orders and inquiries from main engineering only,” Duncan ordered.

“Acknowledged.”

Duncan turned to look at the computer console that Jen was at to see if his actions had helped him. “Do we have full control now?” 

“We do, but helm control has somehow been isolated with a computer virus. No one has control over it.” Jen answered after checking the readings. “Helm control seems it will be restored once we arrive at our destination.”

“Perfect, which by the time that happens, we’ll either be under the control of this telepathic pitcher plant, or the self-destruct would have gone off.” Duncan responded. “Keep trying to gain access, Lukiz.”

Jen just nodded.

Duncan turned to Jen’s deputy, who was sitting next to him, “Decter, unluck with our covert distress call to Starfleet?” He asked.

The Rutian man shook his head, “Commander Hunsen has not made it easy for us, sir; he has somehow been able to prevent us from covering up any external communication channels. The moment we send a message out, we’ll be seen by the Devore.”

“What about our receiver array? Can we get access to the latest updates from Starfleet?” Duncan wondered.

Pushing his grey and white lock of hair back, Jines tried to do as he was asked but ended up shaking his head again. “No, sir, if we attempt to uplink to the Starfleet relays in the area, the Devore will be able to triangulate our position within seconds.”

“Damn it,” Duncan cursed again. “What about if we separate from the chevron section? Could we restore complete control then?”

“The same computer virus has blocked out chevron separation as helm control,” Jines reported. 

Duncan’s youngest son, William, approached his father with a mug of tea. “Dad, I thought this might help.”

Smiling in appreciation for the gesture from his son, Duncan patted William’s left shoulder as he took the mug. “Thanks, William.” He took a sigh. “You should really get yourself down to the Calypso and be with your brother and dad.”

William shook his head. “I want to stay with you, dad.”

Duncan didn’t bother to argue with him, not now or in front of his crew. “You can stay for another fifteen minutes, then I want you out of here, no questions, understood?”

His son just nodded. “Sure. Is there anything I can help out with?”

“Do you know how to break through a computer virus or how to stop a baby telepathic pitcher plan from controlling everyone?” Duncan asked, slightly teasing him.

“Sounds like more of a job for Doctor Slyvexs,” William said, indicating towards the chief medical officer that stood behind him. 

Agreeing with his son’s idea, Duncan excused himself from his operations officers and headed over to see Slyvexs. “Anything more about this pitcher plant?”

 Standing with Banfield, the CMO just shook her head. “Nothing more than what we’ve already shared. From what we can see, the creature conforms to the same sensor readings that Voyager took when it encountered its mother in twenty-three-seventy-five.”

Banfield then spoke up. “We’ve got readings of organic compounds, bioplasmic discharges and a vast network of neural pathways.”

“However it’s only five hundred kilometres in diameter,” Slyvexs added. “We think it became laced with the blood dilithium after the small planetoid the Devore were mining had exploded. It was a lot closer to them than we were.”

 “Okay, any theories on stopping it from using its psychogenic manipulation on the crew?” Duncan asked.

“Distance from it is key,” Banfield explained as she activated a holographic display of the baby beast. “Voyager only escaped thanks to help from an alien called Qati, who had tetryon-based weapons and fired on a pocket of antimatter released from Voyager’s nacelles. It produced an electrolytic reaction that forced the original telepathic pitcher plant to release them.”

“It puked them out,” Slyvexs clarified. “We’ve already got a team working on making adjustments to the Telemachus to fire a similar beam, and the nacelles will be able to eject the antimatter.”

“But that doesn’t help us with the blood dilithium,” Duncan pointed out.

Both women agreed with that assessment. 

“We need more data, but it’s data we don’t have,” Banfield said. “Sir, as your acting first officer, I think I need to say that I think it’s worth contacting Starfleet.”

“Not with the Devore so close to us,” Duncan disagreed with her. 

“Max, with or without the Devore on our backs, you’ve set the auto-destruct. They wouldn’t be able to take the Odyssey.” Slyvexs reminded him. “Let us run those scans, get in contact with Starfleet and deal with this before we are all incapacity.”

Duncan rubbed his temple as he considered his choices. He was about to agree to their idea when both Horin and William screamed out in agony. Rushing to his son’s side, Slyvexs and Banfield moved quickly to get to the counsellor as well.

“What is it, William?” Duncan asked as he grabbed his son into his arms.

“I can hear them, dad,” William said as he grabbed hold of his head. “All of them.”

“Who?”

“The Brenari,” Horin whispered as she knelt down on the floor with Slyvexs over her with her medical tricorder.

“It’s the neurogenic field,” Slyvexs said as she quickly scanned William. “It’s increasing in strength as we get closer.”

The intercom then went off, followed by the worried tones of Master Chief Court. “Court to Duncan, we’ve got a problem with our young people down here.”

Duncan tapped his combadge, “What do you mean, Tobias?” He asked his husband.

“Remi is running scans of them now, but they all just dropped to the floor in agony.”

“The same happened here with William and Louwanna. We think it’s our proximity to the creature,” Duncan said.

Slyvexs came over to William and placed a cortical inhibitor behind his lobe.“Tobias, tell Remi to attach cortical inhibitors to each and everyone one of you. Then he needs to increase neurotransmitter levels by forty-seven per cent.”

 “Understood,” Court replied.

As she finished working on William, the teenager appeared more at ease after the inhibitor started to work. “That’s better,” He smiled at the relief.

Slyvexs moved to Horin and helped her. “Are you okay, Louwanna?”

“Yes, it was like a sharp pain of agony being projected into my mind.” She answered. “But it wasn’t from the Brenari on the ship.”

Slyvexs appeared confused by that statement. “Then which Brenari?”

“This is going to sound stupid, but it felt like there were Brenari with the creature,” Horin said after a breath. 

“Sir!” Jines shouted. “I’ve been able to get something from Starfleet.”

Hearing that, Duncan jogged over to Jines to see what it was. “Anything of use?”

“It’s a small data block; I’m just attempting to retrieve it now.” Jines then activated a holographic interface as he loaded up the work. “I’ve got what looks like a schematic of something.”

“Let’s see it,” Duncan ordered.

The schematic appeared before them all, but it was only partially complete. 

“What is it?” Horin asked as she approached the group with help from Slyvexs.

“It appears to be a subspace resonance emitter,” Jen said. “I recognise some of the technology from something one of my previous hosts once encountered.”

“Without knowing why Starfleet has sent this out, we can’t be sure how it will help us,” Jines said. “And without breaking the radio silence, I can’t get any more data, sir.”

“Damn,” Duncan cursed again. He looked at Banfield and then back to the deputy ops manager. “Decter, you have my permission to break radio silence and get in touch with Starfleet. Inform them what is happening onboard and what action we are taking to retake back the ship.”

“Aye, sir,” Jines said nervously as he looked to Jen for encouragement, which he got with a simple nod. 

“Corella, begin long-range scans. I want to know everything about that pitcher plant,” Duncan ordered her. “And someone start looking out for the damn Devore.”


“They’ve somehow restored the lockouts,” Lenjir announced at tactical. “The computer is not accepting any enquiries or input from up here.” The Tiburonian hit the console with a heavy thud. 

McCallister smirked from his command chair as T’Rani’s grip against his face tightened. “Cline, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“What’s wrong, commander? Unable to make the connection?” McCallister teased her. Whatever was preventing her from placing him under her control, McCallister was thanking it. 

T’Rani gave out a huge sigh of frustration, which was unlike her. She let go of him and walked away. “I’m sorry, sir,” She said, looking at Hunsen. “I can’t focus.”

Hunsen, standing in the centre of the room, looked at McCallister deeply. He was almost studying his captain, trying to read his mind and work out what McCallister had planned. “I can’t get anything either,” He stepped forward and picked his captain up by his uniform jacket. “Tell me what Max’s orders are.”

“I don’t know,” McCallister said with a smirk.

Hunsen used the back of his right hand and slapped McCallister’s face. As the captain fell backwards onto his chair, Hunsen picked him up again. “Tell me what you told him to do.”

“Nothing,” McCallister spat blood out. “Honestly.”

Kneeing the captain into his stomach, Hunsen then punched him in the jaw, knocking the captain down to the deck plating.

Seeing what Hunsen was doing, Flemen stood up from sitting at ops. “Sir, is that really necessary?”

“Get back to your station,” Hunsen said between gritted teeth. “I don’t need your input, Craigen.”

“We’re still Starfleet officers,” Flemen said in defence. 

“I said get back to your station,” Hunsen hollered before he kicked the captain again, where he lay on the floor. 

Samris interjected. “Craigen is right; this isn’t a part of the plan.”

Pulling his phaser out of its holster, Hunsen aimed it at Samris. “And neither is questioning my orders. Are we clear, counsellor?”

Samris and Flemen both looked at one another. “Perfectly clear, sir.”

“Good,” Hunsen leant down and picked McCallister up. “Now, deactivate the auto-destruct.”

Coughing up more blood and barely being able to see, McCallister shook his head. “Go to hell, Tremt.”

Tierra then stepped forward from the engineering station. “He won’t be able to give us any computer access, sir.” She passed a PADD to him. “It would seem he has been relieved of command by the good doctor.”

Slapping the PADD out of her hands from pure rage, Hunsen gave out a roaring sound. “So Max is the damn captain now?”

Startled by his reaction, Tierra picked up the PADD. “It would appear so, sir. All of our access clearance codes have been rescinded too.”

Hunsen stepped over the captain and sat down in the centre chair. “How long until we arrive at the convoy?”

T’Rani, who had returned to the helm, looked at the readings. “Just over twenty minutes.”

“We would have ten minutes before the auto-destruct completes once we arrive,” T’Rani stated. 

Hunsen was about to say something when Lenjir interjected. “Sir, I’m not sure how they’ve done it, but we’re now broadcasting a general distress call on all Starfleet frequencies, and our lateral sensor array is in full use. The Devore will be able to see us.”

Feeling like everything was crumbling around him. Hunsen tightened his grip around the arms of the chair he was in. 

“Duncan to the bridge,” the intercom went off, and Odyssey’s acting captain’s voice followed. “Tremt, by now, you know we don’t have long until the self-destruct is completed. I’ve also sent out a distress call and used the lateral sensor array. The Devore can see us. A squadron of their warships are on a parallel course with us and will intercept us just before we drop out of warp. Either you take that computer virus out, or we’ll be blown up. The Brenari convoy is not real. You are all being manipulated by a telepathic pitcher plant. Adjust your sensors to scan for bioplasmic activity.”

“No, Max! You’re wrong. The Brenari need us! Now stop the countdown, or I’ll take further action!” Hunsen replied with a sincere and angry tone.

Spitting out more blood, McCallister quickly spoke up. “Max, it’s the captain, do whatever it takes!”

Hunsen got up and kicked McCallister in the back one more time. “Shut up!”

“Tremt, none of us will be conscious by the time we reach the telepathic pitcher plant. The neurogenic field it is producing will overwhelm us all. Now surrender, and we can sort this mess out.” Duncan pleaded one more time.

“Never; we’ve got to help the Brenari,” Hunsen stated with affirmation.

“Then you leave me with no choice,” Duncan said, “I’m sorry, my friend, but I won’t let you do anything more that will risk everyone. Sleep well.”

 Hunsen looked over at T’Rani, but before he could say anything else, gas started to pour out of the vents at a vast rate. They all began to collapse from the toxic fumes.

McCallister, lying straight out on his back, just smirked as he took in the gas and knew what Duncan had done to their ship. Glad that Duncan had taken that action, McCallister soon fell out of consciousness as he took one more breath in. 


“Has it worked?” Duncan asked, rubbing his forehead again. The massive headache he could feel was starting to get worse.

Banfield nodded. “The neurozine gas has worked well.”

“Well done, doctor, in coming up with that idea to trick the computer into letting us release the gas,” Duncan said, congratulating Slyvexs. “Now, how much time do we have?”

Slyvexs shrugged her shoulders. “Not much longer; I think we will start to feel the effects of the neurogenic field in the next ten minutes.”

Duncan turned to their ECH, “Penelope, it’s more than likely we will all succumb to it. You will be the only one left unaffected. Do you understand what needs to happen?”

The hologram just nodded. “I do, sir.”

“Good; activate the rest of the holographic crew and get them on mobile emitters. I’m entrusting you all to see us through this.” Duncan said before transferring command codes over to Penelope.

“Lukiz, Decter, where are with this subspace resonance emitter from Starfleet?” Duncan questioned.

“The plans show us that Starfleet has created a communication device with the blood dilithium,” Jen explained. “Attempts by the crew of the Discovery show that the subspace trumpet, as they called it, gave them a chance to find out that the consciousness our telepathic crew experienced at first was the subspace imprint of the collective telepathic rage of millions of Brenari murdered by the Devore.”

“How’s that possible?” Horin asked.

“Let’s not worry about that for now; let’s worry that same rage is now interacting with a baby telepathic pitcher plant,” Slyvexs stated. “I can only imagine what distress the pitcher plant is in.”

No one spoke for a moment. None of them could believe what they were now dealing with or considering. 

“Maybe we could communicate with it using this emitter,” Horin suggested.

“I don’t think we would be able to,” Banfield remarked. “It would be far too dangerous.”

“I don’t see how else we’re going to get out of this mess,” Horin remarked. She looked at Duncan, “Please, Max, let me try and communicate with those Brenari who are linked to the plant. I might be able to find a way out of this mess for us.”

Duncan shook his head, “Corella is right; it’s too dangerous. We don’t know what you’ll encounter or what pressure you’ll put on your baby.”

“Actually, Louwanna would be safe,” Slyvexs stated. “Her pregnancy is creating a natural defence, plus what else have we got to lose?”

“Besides our minds?” Jen asked aloud. 

Ignoring the comment, Horin turned back to Duncan. “Max, come on. We can give it a try, and if I don’t succeed, then we have our other plan.”

“The only issue with our backup plan,” Banfield started, “Is the moment we detonate an antimatter cloud, we put the creature at risk of the dilithium crystals from exploding.”

Considering his options again, Duncan relented and gave Horin the nod. “You go in, and you get out quickly, but if we all succumb to this neurogenic field, then the EMH will be ordered to bring you out before Penelope detonates the antimatter.”

“Understood,” Horin said.

“I just hope I don’t end up regretting this,” Duncan said as he gave out a heavy sigh. He looked over at the countdown. They had just under twenty-five minutes before the ship destroyed it.

Comments

  • Wow, things are heating up on the Odyssey! Nice going on the gas, knocking those on the bridge out cold including the Captain! Hopefully, Horin will come through and be able to talk to them before it's too late! Though did they really send a distress call out or was that a diversion to? Hopefully, they can get out before the Devore shows up if they actually did. I can't wait to read what happens next in this crazy saga!

    November 27, 2022
  • The team discussing their options is solid, and I like Banfield and Slyvexs showing their logic and reasoning - talk to Starfleet, because it basically can't get any worse even if the Devore get involved (and to be honest, they might make a useful distraction, even if it's adding chaos on top of chaos). Ooh, things get heated with Hunsen - and he's taking steps even the others won't. Is he just a more powerful telepath, so more susceptible? The plot thickens!

    December 27, 2022