Lizards. Big, huge, carnivorous lizards. Also called Dinosaurs. Beasts from times of old on planet Earth. . . but resurrected again on this planet: the dinosaur park. Resurrected for the enjoyment of millions.
This planet has become a vacation spot. McMillan thought to himself. Not his kind of vacation spot though. . . he *hated* lizards of any kind, especially these big ones. There was something about them which just made his skin crawl. Perhaps that was because of one too many experience with deadly lizards in his past. . .
Nevertheless, this *was* the place where Starfleet had sent the
"No weapons." Commander Arado, his trusted First Officer, replied, his answer also meant for the entire crew. "This is a place where millions go to for their vacation. The government doesn't want to see anything which might cause panic, down there. Understood?"
As the crew moved to the Transporter Room, McMillan threw a sideward glance at Arado. His First Officer was a man of duty: one who could appreciate a joke every once in a while, but who wouldn't have *any* problems with addressing the crew if they weren't paying attention to their duty enough. A man who had proven himself as McMillan's right hand time and time again. He will make a good Captain someday. McMillan thought as he entered the transporter room. For my sake though, let's hope that don't doesn't come just yet.
The blue-ish beams faded away, and before them, a world filled with green emerged. "Wow." Kieran Braveheart, the Science Officer, uttered. Similar phrases of approval were heard from the rest of the teammembers. Even Petty Officer Westland, the Vulcan Operations Officer, didn't seem to mind this place all that much. It was truly understandable that this was a place for vacation. Except they were here on duty. They had a job to do.
Judging by the tricorder readings, Captain McMillan lead the team through the thick vegetation onto a path, straight towards a visitor centre. He had hoped the tricorder readings would become more clear once in there, but. . . alas. No such luck.
"Captain." The Vulcan spoke up. "There seems to be some sort of dampening field, blocking our tricorders." She moved away the tricorder to show what she said next. "They are useless, at the moment."
"Thank you Ms. Westland." McMillan said, most likely looking as annoyed as he felt. If he did, nobody said anything about it. He imagined that they all felt the same way, after all. Without tricorders, it would be much more difficult to track Slade, or any sign she might have left.
Eventually, the team moved outside of the centre, only to be stopped by a huge gate. One which had power surges running through it. "Probably to keep the dinosaurs in." Heron wagered a guess. She reached out to touch the gate, but quickly withdrew her hand when a spark interfered with those plans. "Yep." She said, shaking her hand. "Not a good idea."
"Captain." Ms. Westland then spoke up. "It would seem that we are getting a signal on the tricorder."
McMillan quickly grabbed the tricorder of his own, and checked. Yes, the Vulcan was correct. "But how?" He asked. "I thought they were blocked?"
"Either the signal is powerful enough to reach our tricorders," Ms. Westland said as an explanation, "Or the signal blocking our tricorders is weaker here."
Probably due to the electrical current. The Captain thought, and then nodded. "According to this, the signal is coming from. . ." He paused for a moment, and swallowed softly. He had feared as much. "From inside the area where the dinosaurs live." The decision was easily made, though McMillan knew he could just now be ordering his crew to their deaths. "Let's go in."
The crew wasn't making much progress in covering terrain, that was for sure. Not because the terrain was hard, but because they had to evade dinosaurs. McMillan had to admit, he was in awe of these creatures. From what he had read, they could easily tear each and every one of them apart, without the crew even knowing what hit them. It most certainly warranted the careful approach.
Nevertheless, their search had immediate results: they had found a building, very much like the visitor centre earlier on. . . except this one was *inside* the dinosaur controlled portion of the park, *and* it was broken. Very much so, even. The doors hardly worked, and thick, black smoke came from smouldering remains near the still-working transporter. Who or whatever had done this, couldn't have gone far.
And at the moment, everyone obviously assumed that one person was responsible for this. Slade.
"Careful." Commander Arado said as the crew looked around this building. "It could be a trap." McMillan nodded: if it had been Slade, she'd have set some traps for them. Traps which, as McMillan knew from experience, the crew wouldn't like at all.
All of a sudden, a mighty roar echoed through the woods. This one was closer than the ones the crew had heard before. And they could *see* where this roar was coming from: a white velociraptor was standing there, glaring at the Starfleet crew. There no longer was a gate, a fence, or even a building in between. This dinosaur had entered the building. And it wouldn't leave. . .
It seemed everything was happening in slow-motion. Doctor Seesaw, Ensign Braveheart and PO3 Westland quickly activated the transporter, and they were gone. But for Captain McMillan, Commander Arado and Lt. Heron, there was no time left to do this. The dinosaur moved closer, as Lt. Heron stood before the Captain, between him and the dinosaur.
And then. . . the dinosaur spoke up.
Ensign Braveheart looked at the transporter controls. "It's no use." He admitted. "The circuit's fried. And even if it wasn't, I wouldn't be able to beam the Captain, Commander or Lieutenant over." They hadn't transported far away. . . a few dozen meters, at most. But that was enough to bring them out of danger. For how long, nobody knew.
"Tricorder readings suggest they are still all alive." Westland said in a tone which Braveheart was beginning to dislike. "Nobody has been killed just yet. There is no reason for panic."
Before Braveheart had a chance to respond, Doctor Seesaw spoke up. "Let's safe the bickering for later: we've got a laboratory to examine." And she was right. The transporter had beamed them into some sort of laboratory. One which was also nearly destroyed, but still. . . perhaps there were still some instruments which they could use.
"It looks as if scientists had been monitoring the progress of the dinosaurs." Westland observed, glancing at the nearby monitors. A faint sound was heard, as Westland's eyebrow jerked upwards. "Curious. A program seems to have been activated just now."
A shock of horror went through Braveheart as he too looked at the readings. "That's not just any kind of program." He bellowed. "Doctor, look at those readings. Aren't those DNA sequences?"
"Humanoid DNA sequences, to be precise." Seesaw answered, after which she too showed a look of horror. "Oh my god. If this does what I think it does, it will mutate humanoid DNA into that of dinosaurs." She glanced at the others. "That program. . . it must be spreading a gaseous form of the biological program which rewrites the DNA!" She looked around. "If you see any gas-vents: block them! We still have a chance!"
Not wanting to change into a dinosaur this early in his Starfleet career, Braveheart obeyed, as did Westland. Just a few moments later, the hiss of gas being pumped in the room was heard no more. "We've got to report this to the Captain." Seesaw said, after taking tricorder readings.
"We will, once we get out of here." Braveheart responded. He then tapped his commbadge. "Braveheart to Captain McMillan, are you alright?" As he contacted his CO, he remembered that the three of them were in the same room with a *dinosaur*. . .
But apparently the Captain had survived. "We are, Ensign. We have. . . just made first contact with what seems to be an intelligent form of dinosaur. How are you holding up?"
"We have found evidence that the dinosaurs on this planet might not be actual dinosaurs Sir." Seesaw responded, almost unable to hide her eagerness. "We've disabled a program which tried to turn us into big lizards."
"Good lord." Came the response from McMillan. "Hold on, I will contact the Gibraltar, and have you beam to us. Stand by for Transport. McMillan, out."
The blue light disappeared again, and Braveheart and Seesaw almost jumped up a meter in the air when they saw a white striped velociraptor standing in front of them. To her credit, Westland didn't move a muscle. "It's alright." Came the quick insurance of Captain McMillan, "Allow me to introduce 'Spike'." He smiled slightly. "He's been telling us about Slade. . . or well, more about their hatred of humans, actually."
The dinosaur swept his tail in an angry fashion. "Humans." He said with contempt in his voice. Not to mention, according to Braveheart, a lot of bad breath. "They act as if they're so superior, while it is *us* who are superior, not them!"
Braveheart noticed Captain McMillan frown, even though the CO didn't say anything. Instead, he started about something else. "Spike. . . we will take every precaution to make sure Slade doesn't come back here. Also. . . we shall contact the government of this planet, and see if they *know* that intelligent dinosaurs live here."
'Spike' simply watched the Captain with a deadly gaze. Braveheart had to give the Captain credit: he didn't even blink. "We will leave." McMillan then stated. "We will leave, and not bother you again. But I do hope that one day we will be able to return, and talk. . . peacefully."
Another sweep from the dinosaur's tail, but this time not as angry. "We shall see, Captain. We. . . we shall see. And I will spread the word to my kin: we will look out for Slade."
"All the best, Spike."
"All the best, Captain."
"Gibraltar. . . six to beam up." McMillan smiled faintly as he looked at the dinosaur. "Thank you. For your vigilance, for your talk. . . and for not killing us." His face then straightened. "Energise."
From beyond the damaged dome, a pair of familiar eyes watched as the Gibraltar officers disappeared in a blue light. Idiots. She thought to herself. Blind fish. She had been observing this situation for a while now, and still they hadn't noticed her. And these are Starfleet's finest?
Demeter Slade shook her head. She almost felt sorry for them.
Almost.
"Slade to Scimitar." She said, pressing her own communication device in opening a channel with her own personal warship. "Transport me up." The chase was far from over.
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