At drift. Crippled. No hope of repair,
without spare parts. That was, in a nutshell, the state the Gibraltar
was in now. After the battle with the clone ship Ohiom, the Gibraltar
had been mere shots away from being destroyed. Luckily they had
managed to destroy the Ohiom before that could happen... but it had
left them in a bad shape indeed.
Captain McMillan had never been as
tired as he was now. There was no hope for rescue from Starfleet,
since they still considered the Gibraltar crew to be fugitives. The
Klingons were looking for them too, and wouldn't hesitate to destroy
them. And add to that, the clones wouldn't be all that friendly
either, since... well, they had just lost one of their ships at the
hands of the Gibraltar crew.
But none of that troubled the good
Captain as much as the fact that they weren't going anywhere. They
were stuck here: the warpcore was damaged beyond repair, as were
several other systems. The best that they could do right now, was use
the thrusters. And that wouldn't get them very far.
The crew was feeling the effects of
exhaustion too. They had been working around the clock to get
whatever fix-able system, back online. Sadly, without the power
provided by the warpcore, it'd be impossible to proceed any further.
Ensign Johnson and Lt.Cmdr. Weatherwax
did manage to think on their toes, though. "Sir, if we rig one
of the shuttlecraft to provide power to some of the critical systems,
we can at least temporarily bring those online."
McMillan nodded. That'd at least be
something. "Do it."
Reconfiguring the shuttle's power
generators to provide power to the Gibraltar wasn't the hardest part:
making sure that the Gibraltar's power conduits held, was. But the
crew managed to get it done. Before long, Ensign Kaleaon was one of
the only people on the Bridge, looking at a lit-up console. "Sir,
I'm initiating a long range scan." he commented. At least that
way, they'd be able to see what was out there.
The results came back quickly, but
something in it puzzled Kaleaon. "Sir," he said in a
confused voice, "I'm detecting. . . confirmed Sir, it's a
Federation warpsignature."
"Can you see which ship it is?"
Braveheart asked.
"Affirmative Sir." came
Kaleaon's response. "It's. . . it's ours, Sir! It's the USS
Gibraltar."
Commander Braveheart turned to the
Captain. "The clones."
"No doubt here to finish off what
they started." said Kelly Heron, who had taken up position at
OPS. "It's what I would do, if I were in their shoes."
"Ensign," McMillan spoke up
again, "Any signs that they've detected us?"
"Negative Sir." Kaleaon
answered. "They're just sitting there, orbiting a nearby planet.
It's like they don't even know we're here."
"Probably because we're not
emitting enough energy readings," Johnson suggested. "With
us being shot up and all."
"Agreed." McMillan said,
leaning back into his chair again. For a moment he relaxed ever so
slightly, content that they wouldn't be blown up today. But then an
idea started to form in his head. He turned to his XO, whose eyes
were glistening with a thought too. "Are you thinking what I am
thinking, Commander?"
Braveheart nodded. "It's a clone
ship. Their Gibraltar is built exactly the same was as our Gibraltar.
Which means. . ."
"Which means we can use parts of
their ship as spare parts for ours." McMillan finished
Braveheart's sentence. "If we can board their ship and take
control of it, we should be able to do just that." He then
looked at the rest of the crew. Some of them blinked, wondering what
kind of a crazy idea this was, others grinned, knowing it was
probably the only chance they had.
"If this is going to work, we'll
be needing a small team." McMillan continued. "Kelly, you
should definitely go: your combat experience will be useful. Johnson,
Weatherwax, you two have to go as well." At Johnson's surprised
look, McMillan continued. "You're the hazard team lead on board,
are you not? And Weatherwax will be able to hack into the other
Gibraltar's computer."
"I take it you'll be leading the
away mission, Sir?" Braveheart asked.
McMillan nodded. "This is one
mission I can't sit out. Besides, I need someone I can trust to help
us out, if needed."
"Alright then Sir,"
Braveheart conceded. "But I'd like to state, for the record,
that I object to this."
"I'll file an objection to
Starfleet the moment we're cleared of those charges, Commander."
McMillan said with a faint smile. "Now... Johnson, Weatherwax,
Kelly... to the shuttlebay."
The trip to the cloned Gibraltar didn't
take long. Luckily, Kelly had managed to use some of her knowledge to
partially cloak the Flyer, so the clone crew wouldn't see it coming.
It didn't take much of an effort to open the clone ship's shuttlebay
doors either. Once the team of four was in, the hard part would
really start.
As the team made their way to the
Bridge, McMillan noticed two things. The first being that this ship
wasn't as damaged as the Gibraltar was, and the second that they
hadn't encountered anyone here just yet. Sure, the clone ships
probably weren't populated by too many people, but still. . . they
should have bumped into someone by now.
"I don't like this." McMillan
said, as he stopped right outside of the Bridge. "This is way
too easy. Where are the clones?"
But Johnson shook her head. "Relax
Captain, perhaps they really just didn't see us coming." She
gestured to the door that would lead to the Bridge: the ship's
control center. "Shall we?"
McMillan nodded. "You and
Weatherwax go through that door, while Kelly and myself will go via
the conference room." He let out a soft sigh as he pulled out
his rifle. "Here we go..." he said, knowing he'd probably
have to shoot people who at least *looked* like the ones he'd been
serving with for a long time already.
But there was no time for doubts now.
This had to happen. He gestured at Kelly to take point, after which
both of them stormed in, through the conference room, onto the
Bridge. There, a surprise awaited them...
Ensign Sophie Johnson and Lt.Cmdr.
Richardjrn Weatherwax aimed their weapons at McMillan and Kelly.
"Surrender, Captain." said the clone of Commander
Braveheart. "And you might be spared."
For a moment, McMillan thought he was
dreaming. But no... this was very real. "Sophie?" he asked,
looking at the Ensign. "Rich? What the hell is going on?"
"They're clones." murmured
Kelly, who seemed to have a better grasp of the situation than
McMillan did. "Damnit, I should have seen this coming."
"To be more precise," Johnson
continued, "I am the clone. I reprogrammed the Weatherwax
hologram to aid me in gathering information about you, Captain. You
and your crew. And now that we know everything there is to know about
you, we can replace you. Starfleet will never know."
McMillan shook his head. "You're a
*clone*." he said, more forceful than he had intended. He felt
betrayed. Used. Duped. In short, he felt like an idiot. "Since
when? And where is the real Ensign Johnson?"
The Braveheart clone stepped in. "All
in good time, Captain. Suffice it to say, she's been undercover in
your crew for a few weeks now."
"Since the mission to the
destroyed cloning facility." McMillan finished, nodding to
himself. "Of course. Johnson and Weatherwax were the only ones
who could breath in the atmosphere. You must've switched with the
real Johnson there."
"Indeed, Captain." the cloned
Braveheart answered. "All per the Creator's instructions, of
course. We just needed an opportunity to get her back, and you kindly
gave us one. We even know the location of your ship now, thanks to
you. I must say Captain, I'm a little disappointed. I thought you'd
have given us much more of a fight, but you've handed us the
Federation on a silver platter."
McMillan bit his lip as he looked at
Kelly. She nodded in return. "No." McMillan then finally
spoke up, feeling his confidence return. "You haven't won just
yet."
"And what did you hope to do to
stop us?" said the Johnson clone.
"Why, I'd ask for backup, of
course." He nodded at Kelly, who said some Klingon words in her
communication device. Immediately afterwards, the clone-ship lurched,
as a Klingon Bird of Prey – Kelly's – decloaked and started
attacking.
As McMillan dove for cover, Kelly
started her rampage. McMillan knew Kelly: she was quite something.
She had – or would, he never knew for sure with her - successfully
defeated many enemies, including the Borg, the Klingons, and even
time itself. A crew of clones would not stand in her way.
Still, as Kelly started slaying the
various crewmembers with her bat'leth, the cloned Johnson tapped in
some commands on her omnitool. It caused Weatherwax to suddenly fire
at anything that moved, making it that more difficult for Kelly to do
her job. . . and for McMillan to survive.
So, the Captain tapped his commbadge.
"McMillan to Braveheart. Commander, we've been duped! Johnson's
a clone, and Weatherwax has been reprogrammed. I want you to hack
into his program and see if you can undo the damage!"
=/\=That,=/\= came Braveheart's voice
on the comm, =/\=might take some time Sir. But we're on it. Hold
on!=/\=
"Easier said than done!"
McMillan said as he dove for cover again, Weatherwax's phaserbeams
barely missing him. Kelly in the meantime, was down to her third dead
clone, and was on her way to the fourth. Commander Braveheart – the
clone, that was – was clearly no match for the fightingmachine that
was Kelly, and he fell on the floor. Dead.
To hear Braveheart's voice while his
clone was laying dead on the floor, was definitely one of the oddest
things McMillan had ever experienced. Aside from being fired upon by
a hologram that was supposed to be a member of his crew, of course.
=/\=Sir, initiating reboot of Weatherwax's program... now!=/\=
The hologram froze for a moment, and
then looked around. "Wait a second," he said as he turned
to McMillan. "Captain? What's happening?"
"Thank god." McMillan
responded as Kelly and the Debbydo clone were locked in mortal
combat. "Weatherwax, you're on the clone ship of the Gibraltar. I
need you to hack into the computer and release anaestezine gas
throughout the ship."
Weatherwax paused for a moment. "How
can I be sure you're not a clone of the Captain?"
McMillan shook his head in frustration.
"When we're done here, you can scan me all you want. Right now,
we need to seize control of this ship, you understand?"
The hologram didn't immediately go to
work. Instead, he thought this through, but then thankfully nodded.
"This will only take five seconds."
Five long seconds later, McMillan's
tricorder showed that all remaining clones on board had been knocked
unconscious by the gas. "Thank you, Commander." he said
with a sigh, as he turned to Kelly, who had just finished beating the
crap out of the Debbydo clone. "That was fun," she said
with a smile on her face. McMillan shivered: he knew she actually
meant it too.
"Sophie!" Weatherwax suddenly
shouted, as the hologram ran towards the lifeless body of the clone
on the floor. "Sophie. . . no!"
"She's a clone." McMillan
answered. "She's infiltrated our ship and reprogrammed you."
He paused, and put a hand on Weatherwax's shoulder. "We'll find
her, Rich. I promise you that."
First though, they needed to get their
ship operational again. At least with this clone ship under their
control, they'd have the necessary spare parts. "McMillan to
Braveheart," McMillan said as he tapped his commbadge, "Ship
is secured, mission is a success. Have Engineering stand by: we'll be
bringing lots and lots of spare parts your way."
As the clone ship started moving to the
location of the original Gibraltar, McMillan silently hoped that the
repairs wouldn't take too long... they had to save Ensign Johnson,
and stop these clones once and for all...
To be continued...