Christmas wishes

That's right, the crew of the USS Gibraltar has a message for you. Of course, being all Klingon still after last monday's RP, we did this Klingon style!

Enjoy the holiday season folks, and we hope to see you again in 2012, when the Gibraltar will continue to go where no-one has gone before!

Episode 47: "The Klingon Way"

Pointy teeth, ridges on his forehead and an armour which felt as if he was trapped inside a metal crate. No, Captain McMillan couldn't say he was feeling at ease, looking like a Klingon. Doctor Talax had done an excellent job though, surgically altering him and most of the rest of the senior crew to look like Klingons. Of course, the true test of Talax's handiwork would be later on, when the crew would actually walk amongst real Klingons.

Lieutenant Desade and Ensign Debbydo had been kidnapped by Klingons. A quick check with the Klingon High Council told McMillan that they weren't responsible: it had to be a Klingon House that opposed the High Council. Rebels, so to speak. And they could be anyone. And anywhere.

Luckily, the Gibraltar crew found the warptrail of the ship that took their officers. They followed that ship – a Klingon Bird of Prey – to a planet nearby. McMillan had ordered the ship to use the planet as a shield to make sure their approach wouldn't be detected. So far, it didn't seem that the Klingons down on the planet knew they were there. However, they also couldn't just beam the missing officers out: there was too much interference.

So, it was decided to send out a team to recover the kidnapped officers. And that team would be surgically altered to look like Klingons. It'd be a mission where they'd get in, not attract any attention, get Desade and Debbydo, and get out. Hopefully it would be that simple.

As McMillan and his 'Klingon' crew stood on the deck of the Bird of Prey, he actually started to believe it *would* be that simple. There were no Klingons in sight. . . in fact, there was nobody. The ship seemed to be empty.

"Alright folks," McMillan stated as he moved onwards, "Remember who we're supposed to be. Let's get our 'prisoner' incarcerated, shall we?" 

The 'prisoner' was of course Ensign Johnson. The plan was to beam on board the ship with a prisoner, hand her over to whomever was in charge, so that Johnson could explain the plan to Debbydo and Desade. Then they had to wait until they were rescued: probably the most difficult thing Johnson had ever done. She was an action girl, after all.

After roaming the empty decks of this Bird of Prey for a while, the 'Klingons' and their 'prisoner' arrived at what seemed to be an Engineering room. There was one Klingon here. Now, McMillan realised, the game began.

"Q'apla!" McMillan shouted out, walking towards this mean looking Klingon. But then again, they were all mean looking. "Are you in charge of this ship?"

"I am now." The Klingon responded. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"I am Ro'Bob, of the Klingon ship Gib'tar." McMillan said with a grin on his face. "While we were on our home base, we found this prisoner." He pushed Johnson forward for effect. The look she gave him was a foul one, and for a moment McMillan wondered if she was even acting. "We heard you had experience with these Federation people?"

The Klingon's lips parted in a grin as well. "Indeed we do. We can put her with the others." He moved to escort Johnson to the brig, but he 'prisoner' wasn't going to allow someone else to touch her.

"Don't you dare touch me, Klingon." Johnson said with anger. "If you do, it will be the *last* thing you'll ever do."

"Silence, Trill scum." Commander Westland seemed to be enjoying her role a bit too much.

The doors opened, only to reveal Lieutenant Desade and Ensign Debbydo behind a red shimmering forcefield. The Klingon, apparently named 'Kor', turned the forcefield off, at which point Commander Braveheart led Johnson in. After the usual threats were exchanged, the shield was put back on, and the 'Klingons' went back into the main room.

At that point, Desade turned to Johnson. "Pretty smart Ensign... coming here without any backup?"

Johnson smiled. "No backup eh? Let me tell you something. Did you see the Klingons I came in with?"

…

In the main room, Kor quickly checked the settings, at which point Commander Braveheart turned to his Captain. "Sir. . . Ro'Bob of the Gib'tar?" he asked with a smile.

McMillan grinned too. "I never said I was original. . ."

Kor quickly returned, at which point McMillan started talking to him again. "So Kor, are you here alone on this ship?"

The only *real* Klingon on the ship began to laugh. "Oh, I won't be alone for long. My crew is out on an honourable mission. Once they come back. . ." He glanced at the others, changing the subject. "What do you think of the Federation?"

The way Kor spat out that last word, told the Gibraltar crew enough. "Kahless would be ashamed if he saw we had allied ourselves with those. . . P'takh." Westland bellowed.

"They are *not* honourable." Reimiyaki chimed in.

"One wonders how they win so many battles." McMillan added. "During the Dominion War they did pretty well, even though they fight without honour."

"Luck." Braveheart answered. "Sheer luck."

"Klingons do not *believe* in luck." McMillan said loudly, grinning. "It's their tactics. Scanning first, asking questions later. That is no way to wage war."

"Exactly!" Their little performance seemed to have convinced Kor. "Our people have lost their ways by allying themselves with the Federation. So it is up to us to make sure our people see how weak the Federation really is. To that end, I have sent my men off to gather intelligence. Federation ship deployment, their number of troops... the information we need to strike, and strike hard."

It was hard for the Gibraltar crewmembers not to look shocked, but somehow, they managed. "Sounds like an honourable mission." Westland spoke up. "We would like to join you."

"To what house should we pledge our loyalty?" Braveheart asked. An excellent question indeed: that way they knew exactly who their adversaries were. The Klingon High Council would also be pleased with this information.

"Why, the House of Kor of course!" Kor said as if it was obvious. "And the mission has only just started. The things we have planned. . . it will be glorious!"

"Good." McMillan said, his grin disappearing from his face. "You can tell it all to Starfleet Security. Commander Braveheart, Commander Westland. . . hold him. Lieutenant Weatherwax, free our crew please."

Kor was genuinely surprised when the two 'Klingons' grabbed him. "What in the name of Kahless is going on?"

"I'm afraid I haven't been entirely honest to you, Kor." McMillan said, standing in front of the man. "My name is Captain RoBobby McMillan of the USS Gibraltar. We came here to rescue our crew." He nodded to the trio of Starfleet Officers who now walked out of the Brig. "And we stumbled upon a plan to attack the Federation. Thank you for that."

Kor spat at the Captain. "This changes nothing." he said defiantly. "The Klingon Empire *will* be restored to its former glory!"

As Kor was held tight by both Commanders, Ensign Johnson moved closer, jabbing McMillan in the side. "*Never* push me again, Sir."

"Noted." McMillan said with a smile. "Now, how about we go back to the Gibraltar? I for one could do without the teeth."

"As soon as I've downloaded their database in my matrix Sir." Lt. Weatherwax, the hologram, stated. It would be best to learn all these Klingons knew about whatever plan there was to attack the Federation. . . since McMillan had a feeling Kor would not be particularly helpful. . .

With all the necessary information downloaded, the crew beamed back. They had succeeded in their mission and had uncovered a plot against the Federation. Today, McMillan reflected, was indeed a good day. . . to live.

Episode 46: "Missing"

Odd was one word to describe it. Strange, was another. McMillan glanced at the empty seat at the Helm, now taken by Mr. Actor, and the chair at the tactical station. Lieutenant Desade and Ensign Debbydo had not reported in for duty this morning. That was *not* like them. They were usually well on time. Sure, they had reported going down to the surface of this planet to visit an Irish Pub that had just opened, and the Captain knew full well what alcohol did to one's sleeping pattern, but even then they would have responded to the Bridge crew trying to contact them. They hadn't.

"Try again." McMillan said to his XO, feeling more and more ill at ease with this whole situation.

Braveheart nodded and tapped his commbadge once again. "This is the Bridge to Lieutenant Desade and Ensign Debbydo. Come in please."

No response. Again.

This just wasn't like them. "Ensign Johnson, run a scan of the planet surface." McMillan ordered. "See if they're down there."

"Aye Sir." came the response, before Johnson turned to the Gibraltar's resident hologram. "Rich, can you give me more power?"

Richardjrn Weatherwax grinned. "I'll transfer auxiliary power to the sensors, that should help."

"Thanks Feathers," Johnson responded, before going back to work. Something was going on between the two of them, that much was obvious. Now Captain McMillan wasn't all that strict about banning relationships between crewmembers, as long as they just did their jobs. Fortunately, Weatherwax and Johnson didn't seem to have any problem keeping their minds of the job.

"No sign of them Sir," Johnson said after a while. "I did find the shuttle they went down in: it's standing next to the Irish Pub."

"Alright then." Something had happened to both officers, and McMillan needed to find out what. "It's time we paid a visit to that pub."

 

It didn't take long for the Gibraltar's away team to be standing inside the pub, armed to the teeth. A while back, McMillan would have found it unnecessary to come in this hot. Nevertheless, the last few missions they'd been on had required them to be armed. He wouldn't get caught off-guard again. Not anymore. If the price of vigilance was a few armed people, then so be it.

 

However, today he could have just left the weapons at home. There was nobody here at this Pub. No sign that Desade and Debbydo had been here. Nothing. Not even a...

"Sir!" came the call from Lieutenant Weatherwax. "Over here, you'd better see this."

 

"What is it Lieutenant?" McMillan queried as he followed the hologram behind the bar. And there he saw it. It was a Klingon Bat'leth: a Klingon's weapon of choice. Sharp, strong, deadly. It definitely *wasn't* McMillan's preferred weapon. Too bloody.

Speaking of blood. . . "Oh no." Braveheart stated as he scanned the weapon. "No, no no!" Something had really spooked him. "Sir, there's blood on the weapon. It's. . . It's Lieutenant Desade's!"

Chief Medical Officer Talax was brought in, and he confirmed Braveheart's findings. This, McMillan knew, wasn't good. Klingons, attacking Desade? Had Ensign Debbydo been there too?

Speculations ensued, but McMillan's mind wasn't really in it. At least one of his officers had been attacked by Klingons. . . perhaps taken away too. But why? What would the Klingons have to gain from attacking Starfleet Officers?

This, he vowed to himself, he'd find out. When they'd get back up to the Gibraltar, he'd have a talk with the planet's government. If there *had* been a Klingon ship here, at least they would know about it. And then the Gibraltar would pursue. Because one way or another, he'd get his officers back.

Episode 45: "Clones? Not again!"

"Ship's Log supplemental, what a couple of week's it's been. a couple of weeks without the Captain and Starfleet Command have reported a ship of Gibraltar's Specs which has recently been destroyed. We've been ordered to investigate. Who knows what we'll find. End log entry."

Braveheart advised Debby that he wanted an immediate Yellow Alert once the ship had reached the debris field, as he didn't want to be caught short by the Borg or anyone.
    When the ship arrived Sophie scanned the field and discovered that the debris is spread out over a few thousand kilometers so scans of the area would take longer than expected.
    Once Sophie had scanned 30% of the field, she confirmed it matched over 400 vessels in the Starfleet database, and was later confirmed as having an 84% match to standard Intrepid Class designs in Starfleet.
    Sophie recommended beaming a fragment of the hull to Cargobay 2, to run a sub-molecular scan. However when Richardjrn had managed to beam the piece aboard he advised it was off on the transport spot by 0.1m, advising the targetting scanners were off.
    After the error was corrected, Braveheart sent Debby to Cargobay 2 with Sophie to ensure safety to the ship whilst Sophie performed the scans.
    Whilst the Ensigns were gone, Braveheart had a communique sent to Starfleet Command advising of the current situation.

    When Sophie and Debby returned to the bridge, they brought with them some startling news. According to all of the scans they ran. The ship debris we were investigating was a 100% match... to USS Gibraltar! Sophie went on to add to her report that there was residue of a Tricobalt device on the fragment. The ship was destroyed!
    As the situation had got worse. Braveheart asked for Richard to open a secure channel to Admiral Janeway and patch it through to the Conference Room.

    Upon his return to the bridge. Braveheart and Sophie had a theorising 'cross-examination' moment until Braveheart quoted something he learnt at the Starfleet Science "the more you have to think as a scientist, the easier the answers get...the only question that remains is...why?" After which he then put a 'hypothesis' to the bridge crew "Suppose the ship was filled with clones?" To which Richardjrn replied by asking "When were we all cloned?" The Big Question!
    Chronic then put another hypothesis to the bridge. "Suppose that ship out there was from another dimension?" At which point Braveheart asked Sophie to confirm if scans revealed any indications of parallel worlds. She advised it was of this universe, and built 6 months ago.

    Further scans went on to reveal that the warp core had a mixture of matter/antimatter AND a tricobalt device. However the tricobalt device was impure in strength, hence why there was debris in the first place.

    Braveheart asked if there was any confirmation as to where the ship was made, but there was nothing as yet.

    Sophie and Richard started to work through the possibility of trying to find an emergency transponder, however the location of this was limited to senior engineers and command officers due to sensitivity.
    When Braveheart tried to find it, Sophie was unprepared to allow Braveheart to conduct the scans for it himself as she was sure he was going to get the ship into danger, and even told Braveheart that if during his scans he puts the ship in danger, she will come down hard, advising him to transfer the co-ordinates to the helm before she does it. However Braveheart advised that he was transferring the co-ordinates to Ops as he wanted further scans being conducted.

    Whilst all this was going on, Sophie and Richard were privately conversing without Braveheart's knowledge. At which point, Braveheart turned to Richard advising that if there is a transponder found...to have it beamed aboard to the Science Lab behind a forcefield whilst asking Debby to continue on Tactical scans.
    Richard goes on to tell Braveheart that if they can calculate the axis of the explosion, they can then calculate the corresponding force and radius... THEN calculate the transponder location, which he's actually already done, and transfers the co-ordinates to the helm.
    Braveheart asks for a course to be set at full impulse.
   
    Once they found the transponder, Braveheart ordered it beamed aboard and had Sophie follow him to the Lab so that she could see he was only interested in the security of the Federation. Not liking what he found. He returned to the bridge with Sophie in hot pursuit. Instructing Sophie to run a full scan for any functioning sources in the debris, finding beta-emissions and a possible Z-Neutrino core. Technology used by both The Cardassians and...according to information gathered by USS Voyager... The Hirogen. Which in turn...could mean...The Borg!

    Braveheart asked Sophie the best way to completely destroy this debris. Sophie advised of 1 photon torpedo with a boost of reserve power to the torpedo tube. Braveheart asked if 3 torpedoes without the boost would do it. Sophie thought it might if detonated at the right place. Braveheart ordered 4 torpedoes to be armed at Sophie's best guess. Whilst having the ship prepared for maximum warp so that as soon as the 4th torpedo detonated, they would be able to go.

    Sophie went on to advise that the torpedo explosion has created a level 2 shockwave. Braveheart advised he would personally inform Starfleet and take any blame.

Episode 44: "We all die together"

"Computer, begin personal log, Commander... no, just Kieran Braveheart... I think. I don't know who or what I am anymore. I am alone. Alone on this ship, that I thought I knew so well. The crew is dead. What am I to do? Perhaps... perhaps if I send this log out, someone will find it. Someone will read it, and someone will understand what happened here today. Because people have to know. We cannot just be forgotten."

"It all started... I don't know when, actually. We became aware of it just a few hours ago. We, the crew of the USS Gibraltar, were just minding our own business, returning after having scanned another planet, when we received a message from Starfleet Command. The news wasn't good. Apparently, when we boarded the USS Troudell a while back, we caught a virus and brought it back to the Gibraltar. Starfleet Medical was working on the issue, so Command told us, but in the meantime they put the Gibraltar under medical quarantine. We had to drop out of warp, and simply... wait. Captain McMillan didn't like that."

"According to Starfleet, this unknown virus caused people to go through behavioural changes and severe headaches. It wasn't something to look forward to, that was certain. But, orders were orders, and the Captain told us to stand down, and check all the systems, just in case."

"I joined Ensigns Miyaki and Johnson to check things in Engineering: what we found there wasn't good. Apparently this virus, whatever it was, seemed to be *manufactured*, rather than created naturally. We hurried back to the Bridge to report this, at which point Captain McMillan just... lost it."

"The Captain started complaining about severe headaches: he wanted the light level lowered, even though it hadn't gone any brighter or anything. He also went on responding out of character... becoming agitated by normal reports, and even shouting at the officers under his command. That wasn't like him. It was the first sign that something was wrong... terribly wrong."

"Captain McMillan was brought to Sickbay with respiratory problems, while I worked with the rest of the crew to find out what was going on. I didn't have much time though, since before I knew it I received a call from Ensign Johnson down at Sickbay... telling me to get down there immediately. When I got down there, I heard a tone I hoped I'd never hear: the flat line tone indicating that a patient's heart had stopped beating. I looked at Ensign Johnson, who was bringing out the medical devices used to stimulate the heart once again."

"But it was no use. The Captain's heart had just given up. Captain RoBobby McMillan was no more."

"As I called down the rest of the senior crew to give them this sad news, Ensign Johnson – heartbroken, and understandably so – started running a scan of the late Captain. None of us could believe it: Lieutenant Weatherwax even suggested that it might be some sort of stasis, but there was no doubt about it: the Captain was dead. And as it turned out, he wouldn't be the only one."

"Ensign Johnson seemed to have found something... but she wasn't able to show what exactly. She too began complaining about the bright light, and started acting irrationally. It wasn't long before she too, died... in the arms of the man she loved, Lieutenant Weatherwax. There was no time to grief though: it was clear that the virus was spreading, rapidly. So I ordered Weatherwax to go over Johnson's findings, while Ensign Miyaki and myself went over to the science lab to get some answers."

"We were quickly recalled to Sickbay, where Weatherwax found something. Something that would rock our world. It turned out that both McMillan and Johnson were... clones. But that wasn't all. After using the results of Johnson's scan, he determined that the rest of us were clones too. We all were. Even the ship was a copy."

"It was hard to take in. It still is. Clones... us? I still have all the memories of Kieran Braveheart: how I worked on the Borg taskforce for Admiral Janeway, how I left the Gibraltar and later joined again, how I became the XO... how could I be a clone? I couldn't accept it. I still can't."

"Not long after Weatherwax told us this, his program suddenly started to destabilise. We couldn't do anything about it: he just vanished. A few seconds later, Ensign Miyaki collapsed to the ground. She too, had died. I found myself alone in a room filled with corpses... people who used to be my crewmates. Or not, if they were all clones."

"I don't know what to do anymore. Someone has made this virus, that much is certain. And if we're all clones, then someone must have made us too. Whoever reads this, please... forward this log to Commander Kieran Braveheart of the USS Gibraltar. They need to know. They've *got* to know. Our deaths cannot have been in vain."

"Computer, save log, and send it out on all frequencies."

<>Unable to comply. Communications array has been disabled.<>

Kieran brought his fist down on the desk, in anger. No, this couldn't be. All his crewmates had died, and even though they were all clones, this was still mass murder. It was a terrible tragedy: something people needed to know. He stood up, or was about to, when he too found his head bursting with pain. The virus was getting to him as well.

All of a sudden, he heard a voice coming from the comm... even though the computer had just said that the array had been disabled. =/\=Just accept it, Braveheart. You're a clone. You'll die. And we won't miss you: I'll just make another you.=/\=

The pain was almost overwhelming, but Kieran stood up anyway. "Who are you? Identify yourself!"

 

=/\=Let's just say I'm your creator.=/\= said the voice. =/\=I made you, and the rest of the clones. However, your batch was defective. Too perfect: you actually thought you were the Gibraltar crew. You lost track of our mission. So I had no choice but to eliminate you.=/\=

"You created the virus!" Kieran stated, leaning against the desk. It was hard to concentrate now: the headache was getting worse.

=/\=Well done Braveheart, you figured it out. Now, accept your fate, and kindly die. This was your Creator... out.=/\=

Kieran moved to the chair, and sat down, squinting his eyes. "I will not give you the satisfaction of watching me die," he murmured. "I will not die laying down. I... will not..."

A few seconds later, there was no living sole left on this fake ship. Everyone on board was dead.

((At the same time, a few systems away, on board the USS Gibraltar))

Captain RoBobby McMillan sat back in his chair. "Any word from Starfleet yet?"

Commander Braveheart nodded. "It seems that they've analysed what we brought back from the Troudell. There's some rather interesting scientific data there. They commended us for getting it."

McMillan smiled. "All in a day's work." He looked at the viewscreen, which showed the stars flying by. "Now... let's go back to finding those clones, shall we? I've got a feeling they're nearby..."

Episode 43: "Data to Die for"

The air was filled with smoke, as McMillan hurried to Ensign Deianirrah, who lay motionless on the floor. "Doctor, quickly!" he shouted, which caused the monstrous looking creature, only known to the crew as 'Jimmy', to approach quickly, avoiding the green bots flying towards him.

"She's been hit pretty badly." Jimmy said, examining Deia. "However, with some medical care, I'll have her up again soon."

"Do what you can." McMillan said over the noise of shots being fired. "We can't stay out here in the open forever." He looked around, glancing at the rest of the Gibraltar crew, firing whatever weapon they had with them, against their adversary.

The Borg.

Starfleet had sent them to find the USS Troudell, a science ship missing in this sector. When the Gibraltar did indeed find the ship, there were Borg signatures all over it, while it was towed by a Borg ship. The Troudell carried valuable data, so McMillan took charge of an away team. "This might be a dangerous mission," he had said right before beaming over. "We might encounter the Borg."

In retrospect, that was the understatement of the year. The Borg just kept coming, and the crew wasn't even close to the Bridge, where all the data was stored. "How're you holding up, Ensign Johnson?" McMillan asked. She had just come back to duty, after spending a week in Sickbay after the last mission.

 

"Just peachy Sir!" came the response, as the Hazard Team Ensign killed another Borg coming her way. Another Security Officer, Mr. Wayne, nodded in response. "Haven't had this much fun in years!"

McMillan winced slightly at this response, but before he had a chance to say something, 'Jimmy' spoke up again. "I've done what I could, Captain. Ensign Deianirrah will be back on her feet shortly."

And he was right: the blue-skinned Ensign stood up, wobbled around a bit and brought her hands to her head. "What happened?"

"You got shot." McMillan answered quickly, grabbing his weapon. "We can't stay here much longer: we need to go to the Bridge. Can you walk?" Deianirrah was the key to their whole mission: she and Ensign Visage had to pick the data out of the damaged, probably partially assimilated main computer.

With a nod, Deianirrah showed that she could indeed move out. "Alright folks," McMillan shouted, getting the attention of friend and foe, "To the Bridge!"

Fighting their way through hordes of Borg drones, the crew finally entered the Bridge, where only one drone was awaiting them. He was quickly taken care of, at which point the crew started to relax somewhat.

That didn't last long though. "They're right outside," Commander Braveheart pointed out.

"Ensign Johnson, Lieutenant Weatherwax, Mr. Wayne," McMillan started, knowing full well what he was about to say. "Buy us some time: keep the Borg away from the Bridge."

A small chorus of 'aye Sir' was the response, after which the trio walked out, into what might as well be their deaths. But McMillan wouldn't just give on them. "Ensign Deia, Ensign Visage, it's up to the two of you. Do your magic: get the data."

 

Their job wasn't an easy one. Of all the consoles on the Bridge, only the Tactical console wasn't assimilated. That also meant the main computer was seriously compromised. But, McMillan knew, if anyone could do it, it was them.

They had to hurry though: the team outside gave reports from time to time, and while they were holding their own, their ammunition and energy reserves were starting to get depleted. It would only be a matter of time before the Borg would break in, and assimilate the Gibraltar crew *and* the important data.

"Energy pack at 31 percent." came the voice of Ensign Johnson over the commbadge. "Captain, we can't stay here that much longer. We need to go back to the beam-in point, now."

"I just need another moment!" Deianirrah shouted out, working as fast as she could. Her fingers were almost moving faster than McMillan thought was possible, but it wouldn't matter. He couldn't risk it.

It was at that moment that Commander Braveheart started moving towards the door. "Commander?" McMillan asked, slightly surprised. "What are you doing?"

"Time to show why I became XO." his friend said with a faint smile. "They need help out there: I'll help them."

It was crazy. Braveheart didn't have all that much combat experience. . . at least, not that McMillan knew. Still, he *did* have extensive experience fighting the Borg. "Alright then." the Captain said softly. "Good luck, Commander."

 

Just moment after Braveheart joined the fight, Deianirrah stepped back. "I got it... well, most of it." She took in a deep breath. The effort, in addition to her being shot earlier on, had tired her out. "There's a lot of damaged files... we were unable to save those."

"Fair enough." McMillan knew those files were very important, otherwise Starfleet wouldn't have wanted them in the first place. But at the moment, the survival of his crew was more important than any kind of files. "It's time to go. But first... Ensign Visage, activate the self-destruct."

The Science Chief looked at McMillan for a moment, as if not believing what the Captain had said. He then swallowed, but nodded. "Aye Sir. Setting self-destruct sequence." When Visage tapped in the barely working lights, a counter appeared on the screen. 180, 179, 178..

Just three minutes. That was cutting it close. "Alright folks, let's get a move on!" They had to get back to the beam-in point on the double, so that the Gibraltar could beam them out. As the crew exited the Bridge, they joined Braveheart, Weatherwax, Johnson and Wayne in the fight, pushing forwards towards the back of the ship. Not a moment too soon: the defenders' ammunition was almost gone. Wayne even had to strike one drone down with a knife. Not that he seemed to mind, though.

The time was running out. "Move, move!" McMillan shouted, as he entered the shuttlebay: the beam-in point. "McMillan to Gibraltar... beam us out, now!"

As the blue beam grabbed the Gibraltar crew, the ship around them started to explode. By the time the crew arrived on the all too familiar transporterplatform, the Troudell was no more. "Bridge, now." McMillan ordered, knowing full well that the destruction of that science ship would bring more Borg to this neighbourhood.

And he was right. "Captain, there's two Borg contacts just dropping out of warp." Visage reported when he sat down in his chair.

McMillan wasn't about to find out what they want. "Helm, get us out of here. Maximum warp."

The USS Gibraltar quickly turned around, moving away from the remains of the Troudell. With a flash of light, the Intrepid class starship jumped into warp. The Borg remained behind.

Even though they had survived – a good ending of any mission, by McMillan's book – the Captain did wonder why the Borg hadn't just assimilated this data. What was so important about it? Well, a closer analysis might prove some insight into that. But that would have to wait until later. Right now, he was just glad his crew was still alive. Because when dealing with the Borg, you never knew what would happen...

Episode 42: "Escape from Echo Colony"

The clones. That's what started all of this. Captain McMillan had been called back to Starfleet Command last week, to discuss the situation with the Gibraltar clones. Starfleet had gathered enough evidence to place several clones in a handful of systems, near the Gibraltar's location. So, McMillan was sent back to the Gibraltar with orders to find any unusual signals, and investigate them. So when the Gibraltar orbited a planet called Echo Tango 27, and found unusual signals from below, the Captain organised an away team.

As they beamed down though, they didn't find any fancy equipment: they found barren rock, as far as the eye could see. Well, and one battered building, which apparently had been there for quite a long time. Just when McMillan felt like there wasn't anything here worth their attention, Science Chief Visage's tricorder beeped. A radiation spike... it was crucial that they'd get out of here.

McMillan tried his commbadge, but the radiation made it impossible to get a clear signal. "Into the building!" he ordered, and his team followed. In retrospect, McMillan came to regret that decision, but at the time, he saw it as the only way out.

It was a way out alright. But not the way the Gibraltar crew wanted. The doors to the building closed when everyone was inside, and a voice was heard: "Welcome to Echo Colony. Please hold on to something." The next thing the crew knew, was the floor they were on going down at incredible speed, and them along with it. After a few terrifying seconds, they arrived at. . . wherever they were.

"Everyone alright?" asked the Captain. It seemed Ensign Johnson had hurt her leg, but other than that, everone was in good shape. That was a good thing, since as the door suddenly came down, the Gibraltar crew saw that they had a long way to go in order to reach the surface again, and have any hope of contacting the Gibraltar. They were in the middle of some enormous structure. This, McMillan knew, was not good.

The away team had only one choice: to keep going. They couldn't get back up to the surface via the way they came. There had to be another way out though. But where? And this Echo Colony... why were there no people to greet them? Perhaps it had been extinct? All in all, Captain McMillan didn't have a good feeling about it.

His feeling was about to come true: the team arrived at a room, stacked with crates. There was something odd about these crates though: they seemed to be strategically placed so that people could jump on top of them to get to a floating platform. Ensign Johnson and Lieutenant Weintraub went to investigate, at which point they found two buttons of some sort. It wasn't until Ensign Visage came closer that they found out that by pressing these buttons, they caused a whole set of platforms to appear. 'This,' McMillan thought to himself, 'looks suspicious'. Nevertheless, it was their only way out... so he ordered the crew to jump from one platform to another. For a moment there this well trained Starfleet crew looked like a circus act...

But this wasn't over just yet. Once they got to the top, the crew had to balance over a small wall, only to jump down from said wall onto a stack of crates, back onto another platform. That wouldn't be so bad, if not for the place they ended up: back at the main room where they found themselves the first time. But wait... they were a few levels up. "Does anyone feel like we've just been tested?" Ms. Johnson observed. McMillan couldn't agree with her more. . . but what choice did they have but to keep going?

It wasn't long after that, when they found confirmation of Ms. Johnson's theory: when the crew arrived at a gaping hole in the floor, a voice suddenly cried out:

"I am your Director. You should take a leap of faith for your Director."

McMillan looked down for a moment, and shook his head. "That's one big leap." he muttered. There was an opening in the wall there, about 10 meters down, but it was impossible to jump in there without falling down. Going back wasn't an option either: there was no other way out. They had to try it. If this was indeed a test of some sorts, then there was probably a solution too.

"A leap of faith." McMillan turned to the group's resident hologram, Mr. Weatherwax. "What would happen if your program got lost?" he queried.

Weatherwax looked up. "There's always a backup of me," he said, catching on to what McMillan was thinking. "Sir, are you sure..."

McMillan looked down over the edge, and nodded. "I'm sure. I want you to jump, Mr. Weatherwax."

The hologram looked uncomfortable for a moment, but then nodded and gave the backup module to Ensign Johnson. They shared a look, which McMillan noticed... but he quickly put that aside: Holograms didn't have such complicated feelings, did they?

A few moments later, Weatherwax stood at the edge. He looked around for one last glance, and then jumped. He fell... 10 meters, only to land on an invisible floor. "All clear!" came the call from down below.

McMillan shook his head, and smiled faintly. A test indeed. This had been a test. How many tests, he wondered, would follow?

As the rest of the team jumped down onto the invisible floor, Captain McMillan ordered Ensign Johnson to lead the way. With her being in the hazard team, she was the right choice for that. They quickly stopped though, since they reached a dead end... another one. Just when McMillan was about to suggest turning back to look for another way to go – even though he knew there was none – the wall slid down and trapped the Gibraltar crew here!

To make matters worse, some sort of gas started flowing into the room. Amidst the coughing of the Gibraltar crew, the deep, dark voice was heard again:

"I am your Director! Say the three letter word which honours your Director!"

McMillan didn't know what angered him more: this test or the fact that he so blindly walked into this obvious trap. But then again, he had a history with obvious traps. Still, none of that mattered right now. All that they had to do now was to get the right answer so that they could move on... and more important, stay alive!

"Come on people, think!" McMillan managed to shout out between coughs. "This Director" *cough* "thinks he's very" *cough* "important!" So what, he wondered, would be a three letter word that would fit that?

The word 'ego' came to mind.

Try after try, the words were useless. The Gibraltar crew was just seconds away from passing out, until both Captain McMillan and Science Chief Visage had an epiphany: "God!"

That seemed to be the right answer, for the gas disappeared, and the floor brought them up, into another corridor. They weren't out of the woods just yet, but at least they were still alive. After taking a few deep breaths, McMillan shook his head. "This Director has a serious ego problem." he muttered, before he instructed Ensign Johnson to move on again. Who knew how many more tests would await them? Captain McMillan hoped that this would all soon be over.

Sadly though, what greeted the Gibraltar crew, dashed the Captain's hopes. The corridor expanded into a huge room, with only a small walkway to get to the other side. But that wasn't the worst part: no, the *worst* part of it all was that this walkway was intersected by gigantic turning fans, their huge blades almost touching the walkway. On the far end were two of the similar buttons that the crew had seen before. It was a safe bet that these buttons, once stood on, would shut the fans down. But that meant that people had to cross the walkway... with a great risk of being hit by these fans...

"This is absurd." McMillan uttered, but realised that neither he, nor his crew, had much of a choice. "Right, if we're going to do this, we're going to do this the right way." They needed to see who was the best person to make this crossing. Lieutenant Weintraub volunteered to go first. She was security: it wasn't only her job, but she probably got a kick out of it too, McMillan figured.

The Gibraltar Captain held his breath as Weintraub made the crossing, and released it again when the Lieutenant made it safely to the other side. "Alright. Who's next?"

Lieutenant Desade stepped forward. McMillan nodded, and the scientist walked onwards... only to get hit in the side by one of the blades! Under Captain McMillan's watchful eyes, Desade lost his balance... and fell into the deep chasm below.

It was a good thing that Ensign Johnson was with them, wearing her hazard suit. She quickly used the internal transporter to beam the Lieutenant back. Rsdworker tried, as did Ensign Visage, Lieutenant Weatherwax and Lieutenant Desade again. All fell down, which caused the Captain to nearly have a heart attack. Luckily, there was always Ensign Johnson, who beamed the fallen comrades back. But for how much longer? Her suit's power reserves were running low.

"That's it." McMillan said as Johnson beamed the latest one to fall down, back to safety. "I'll do it." He took in a deep breath, knowing that he had to succeed. His life, and more importantly, the lives of his crew, would hench on his success. He took a step, and only now felt the sucking force of these blades as they passed a mere inch in front of his face. It wouldn't take much to make him loose his balance...

One step at the time, McMillan went forward. He stopped from time to time to see where the blades were. Just a few more meters. One more meter. Just past this one last, fast spinning fan... Yes! He had made it! Taking position on the second button, alongside Lieutenant Weintraub, McMillan caused the fans to shut down, clearing a path for the rest of the crew to go ahead. Finally, they had made it.

But they weren't out of the woods yet. The next test was right up a ramp. And it was a killer... literally.

"I am your Director." the voice came when the Gibraltar crew had assembled in front of a small room with massive spikes and various bloodstains in it. "You should be willing to DIE for your Director!"

"This is me," Johnson said almost immediately. "Definitely." It was clear she was volunteering to enter the room. Yes, it was her job to go head-first into dangerous situations like this, but there was something more. An urge to prove herself, perhaps. Show that she had what it took. She was willing to give her life for her fellow crewmembers.

But that wasn't a sacrifice McMillan could ask of her... of anyone. Anyone but himself, that was. "No." he said, determined. "I'll go."

"What?" Johnson stepped forward, facing the CO. "Sir, I've been ordered to protect you, and I shall. I'm not going to let you go in there."

"There's no discussion, Ensign." McMillan commented, looking into her eyes. "My mind's made up. I won't ask any of you to lay down your lives. That's my job."

Johnson was about to protest further, when Commander Braveheart put a hand on her shoulder. "Let him go." he said. "He knows what he's doing."

With a mixture of anger and a sense of failure, Johnson and the rest of the Gibraltar crew watched their Captain enter the bloody room. As the doors closed behind him, they wondered if this might be the last time they would see him. At that moment, another door opened, allowing them access to the rest of the corridor.

Awaiting them there was... Captain McMillan! "It was a test." McMillan said with a faint grin. He was relieved he wasn't dead, that was for sure. "I figured as much... this Director might be crazy, but he doesn't want his followers to get killed, demonstrating their loyalty to him." He smiled. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

Up another ramp they went, finding themselves on the top level of the main chamber they had arrived in. On the other side of the chamber was what seemed like a train of some sorts. When they all gathered, the Director's voice echoed out of the walls again.

"Well done. Now you can go. GO, and spread the word of your Director!"

With that, the glass traindoors opened. "I guess we're supposed to sit," McMillan stated. As the crew followed his example, the doors shut again, and the vehicle began to shudder. For a moment McMillan wondered if they had made a mistake... when the entire thing started moving forward, and then upward, at an incredible speed. This wasn't a train... it was a rocket!

They were taken up through a tunnel of some sorts, crashing into and shattering a pile of Earth, only to roll over and land on the surface of the planet. When they were once again stationary, the rather wobbly Gibraltar crewmembers walked out. They had made it.

And with the emergency transponder in Johnson's hazard pack – McMillan did wonder why they hadn't used that before – the Gibraltar was able to beam them out. As the transporterbeam got them though, McMillan knew, he would never, ever forget this Director person. If he'd ever see that guy, there'd be hell to pay.

Episode 41: "A Troublesome Outcome"

USS Gibraltar RP, 7th November 2011

Episode 41: "A Troublesome Outcome"

Cast and Crew
Kieran Braveheart - Acting CO
Debbydo
Silver Visage
Deianirrah
Sophie Johnson
snapper Desade
Richardjrn Weatherwax
Jimmy Vehrous
Hazel Sparta

Summary:
Captain McMillan has had reports from Starfleet Command regarding the 'Clone' Situation, so has had to return to Starfleet Command to consult with Gibraltar's former XO, Cmdr Fearguis, Admiral Janeway and a load of Top Brass.

USS Gibraltar has been ordered to report to Sector 612 to investigate strange anomalies which could be a wormhole.

En route to Sector 612, Braveheart orders full diagnostics on every system possible, weapons, engines, sensors, the lot. Mr Visage detects an error with the outer sensor grid of the main dish. Mr's Visage, Weatherwax and Vehrous set about to get the dish to maximum efficiency as quickly as possible whilst the ship remained still and void of much activity.

Once the Engineers and Science staff had the sensors back up fully, Debby had detected a Romulan Warbird decloaking near the anomaly we were sent to investigate. Braveheart requested for transponder codes to try and confirm the ship's identity, however this was unsuccessful. So a channel was opened, and Braveheart found himself talking to a Romulan Commander called Talmak who claimed to be chasing a Klingon craft.

Braveheart advised Talmak that the Romulan ship was in violation of treaty and was advised to lower shields and leave Federation space immediately, knowing that if they didn't it could result in engaging in combat. Talmak agreed, leaving Braveheart and the Gibraltar crew to carry out their duties.

Upon knowing the Romulan ship had left, Braveheart had Mr Visage begin scans of the anomaly, knowing full well he wanted to perform the scans himself. Mr Visage confirmed that the anomaly was in fact a wormhole...to where? The crew planned to find out. A probe was launched immediately, however it wasn't long until the crew started to feel a frightening chill. The moment Mr Visage explained what was on the other side. Borg Signatures.

Braveheart had the ship taken to Red Alert, A warning buoy placed and the ship leaving immediately.

Episode 40: "Halloween Horror"

It sounded simple enough. Starfleet wanted the USS Gibraltar crew to explore a planet from which a signal eminated. Captain RoBobby McMillan found this a welcome change of pace after last couple of missions. The Gibraltar crew had been through a lot. . . *he* had been through a lot. A calm mission filled with exploring the surface of a planet would put his mind at ease again.

Unfortunately, when McMillan, Ensign Johnson, Ensign Deianirrah and Mr. Rsdworker beamed down, what greeted them wasn't a nice planet, but a scene right out of a horrormovie. The crew had beamed down near what appeared to be a graveyard, surrounded with scary looking trees and bushes, while terrifying sounds were heard from all over the place. Large, creepy bugs crawled over the ground, as strange transparent figures – they had to be holograms... right? - were floating in the air. And to top it all off... it was dark too.

Not the cosiest of places, McMillan figured. He immediately wished that he was back on the Gibraltar again, but he and his crew had a mission to fulfill. So they bravely walked along, though they each had a feeling of being watched...

As it turned out, they were. From behind one of the scary looking trees appeared a lady in white. Her face was as pale as the dress she was wearing. For some reason, she was more scary than anything the environment could offer. It wasn't that white dress persay... it was the empty, almost lifeless look in her eyes. When she spoke, a chill came down McMillan's spine. "You have come."

It didn't take long for another gruesome figure to appear: this time a person was wearing a Starfleet uniform, whose head had turned into a skeleton. "Ah, my Captain." said the lady in white, though she wasn't talking to McMillan. "They have come, just as Slade said they would."

"Slade?" McMillan now echoed. "Slade said we would come?" He didn't waste a single moment, and tapped his commbadge, at which point Johnson pulled out her phaser rifle. This, they all realised, was bad. As McMillan tried to communicate with the Gibraltar – and failed – Ensign Deianirrah was distracted by something, far away...

"You will not get through the interference," the skull-faced Captain warned. "We made sure of that. Now, come. You have to fix our shuttle. You are ours."

At that moment, Ensign Deianirrah returned from where she had gone to... but she wasn't her old self anymore. To the crew's horror, she had turned into a gigantic wolf. McMillan remembered some legends about a creature like this, back on Earth, called 'werewolves'. Deianirrah certainly fit that description...

"Like hell we are." McMillan finally answered, nodding to the remainder of his crew. It was time to run. Which they did, but unfortunately Rsdworker was left behind. He merely stood there, as if under some unknown influence...

McMillan and Johnson knew they had to come up with a plan. They decided that Johnson would look at the shuttlecraft, while at the same time, try to punch through the interference, so that they could hail the Gibraltar. That turned out to be easier than expected, since the white lady and the skull-Captain found McMillan and Johnson quickly enough, and wanted to know all about the Klingons... how the war was progressing.

In their attempt to explain that the Federation and the Klingon empire were no longer at war, McMillan got permission to contact the Gibraltar. When he did, he ordered the crew to be beamed out. Unfortunately, somehow the white lady, the skull-Captain and the werewolf managed to beam on board too, and after breaking through several forcefields, took over the ship bit by bit.

As McMillan and Johnson hurried to the Gibraltar Bridge, they both knew that they couldn't allow the ship to fall into the hands of these... horrific people. There was only one thing to do... activate the self destruct sequence. Just when the computer announced that in a few minutes, the ship would explode, the scary trio entered the Bridge.

But they were too late. The self destruct sequence had almost reached the end.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1... 0.

Captain RoBobby McMillan woke up with a jolt. "Whu, wha, what?" It took him a moment to get his bearings. He was in his Ready Room! He must've fallen asleep here, after coming here to get some work done after yesterday's movienight. 

As he entered the Bridge again, Ensign Debbydo looked at him. "Sir, are you alright?" she asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

McMillan didn't smile. "You could say that. From now on, movie night should no longer show horror movies, is that clear?" With that, he sat down in his chair, feeling comforted by the fact that all that he had just experienced had been nothing more than a dream. A bad one, yes, but a dream nonetheless.

However, on a backwater planet, far far away, an evil laugh was heard, accompanied by the howling of a wolf-like creature. Halloween, they knew on that planet, would return again next year...

Episode 39: "A small problem"

Captain McMillan was a man who learned from his mistakes. The last few times, he had his team beam down to a planet or space station without ordering some extensive scans, to make sure it was safe. His crew nearly paid for that mistake with their lives. Yes, Slade's surprise attacks were not forgotten by the Gibraltar CO. She was still out there, he knew. And while he also realised that the Gibraltar wasn't her primary target, she wouldn't hesitate to lure them into a trap again, like she had done so many times before.

So now, as the Gibraltar arrived at the USS Burbank, a Nova class science vessel which had been sending out a distress signal, McMillan felt he shouldn't throw caution into the wind. "Run an extensive scan of the entire ship," McMillan ordered his science officers, Mr. Visage and Ms. Deia. . . whatever her full name was. "And tell me if we can beam over safely."

The reason why he didn't ask his usual Chief of Science, Lt.Cmdr. Braveheart, was of course because he had just promoted the man. No longer a Lieutenant Commander, nor Chief of Science, Commander Kieran Braveheart sat next to McMillan, in the XO's chair. McMillan's new executive officer seemed to itch to want to do the scans himself though, as McMillan could understand. He too was a scientist at heart... but he'd been a Captain longer than that. Being in command, he knew, meant trusting your life to your crew, while they trusted their lives to the Captain. It was quite a responsibility, as Braveheart would learn.

"The Burbank is damaged, Sir." came Mr. Visage's report. "I am detecting various energy emissions throughout the ship, specifically in their main science lab." Starfleet had told the Gibraltar crew that the Burbank was missing after initiating a classified experiment, so this didn't surprise McMillan in the least.

"Is it safe to beam over, Mr. Visage?" The Gibraltar's Captain asked.

"As long as we don't stay there too long. . . yes Sir." came the response.

A couple of minutes later, McMillan wished he hadn't beamed over.

 

He had decided to beam directly to the science lab, to find the cause of these energy emissions, and possibly to bring those to a halt, so that the ship was out of danger. It seemed like a good decision at the time, but as the crew rematerialised on the transporterplatform inside the Burbank's main science lab, McMillan quickly doubted whether it actually was good to beam over here. After all, instead of being greeted by a science lab like those on the Gibraltar, this one was at least ten times larger.

As it turned out though, the lab wasn't larger at all. It was exactly the same dimensions as it should be. No. . . the Gibraltar crew had shrunk.

 

After recovering from the shock, the crew split up in smaller teams, only to find out that being ten centimeters or about four inches tall, didn't only pose problems while getting around, but it was also quite dangerous. The Burbank's science lab had taken quite a beating, it seemed, which caused beams to have fallen down. Luckily, the crew could walk on top of those beams to get around the room. However, some of the experiments were also out in the open now: a fact that became clear when one of the Gibraltar's crew almost became electrified because of a small current crawling across the floor.

 

McMillan knew that his priorities had changed now. Instead of coming here to save the Burbank and its crew, he first needed his own crew to save themselves. But how? Luckily, Ms. Deia found several canisters filled with some sort of fluid. It gave off an interesting reading, which told McMillan that it was worth to examine further. As part of the crew tried to jump from one light on the console to another, in order to get more information about those vials, the rest did their best to find out what had actually happened here.

 

As it turned out, the Burbank crew had been experimenting with shrinking and growing objects, done with substances which came from a man-made anomaly - which explained the unusual energy readings - and they had intended to try this on living people as well. However, something went wrong, and the crew itself was exposed to this substance - via the transporterbeam, probably, since that was how the Gibraltar crew got infected with it - and they too were now small, and cut off from the science lab. The vials at the other side of the lab were indeed the antidote: the key to making both crews bigger again.

 

McMillan shook his small head, as he crossed the fallen beam one last time, towards the vials with the antidote. "Can you reverse the effects?" he asked Commander Braveheart's team, who had been working on that.

The newly promoted XO gave a nod. "I believe so, Sir." the man said with a smile. "We'll be big again in no-time."


A few hours later, the Gibaltar and Burbank crew were once again back to normal. McMillan sat in his Captain's Chair again, on the Bridge, staring at the viewscreen. Even though Slade didn't have anything to do with this, the Gibraltar crew walked into a trap of some sorts, despite McMillan being overly cautious. It dawned on him that this wasn't something that only happened to him and his crew. Slade or no Slade, theirs was a dangerous job. Being in Starfleet was dangerous. However, it also brought them to places where no one had gone before.

 Captain RoBobby McMillan smiled to himself. Despite all that happened in the last couple of months... his wasn't a bad job at all.