stardate 85089.72

Personal log.
Captain, USS Exploration.

There are parts of command that I loathe: the endless report writing, the duty roster, the lack of time for real scientific inquiry. Above all, I loathe the discipline, or more precisely, being in charge of discipline.

Our head of Life Sciences, Commander Kosher, had a run in with Commander Adlit, my Chief of Science and Second Officer. It seems that Commander Adlit had allocated the secondary sensor array and deflector taken off-line for several hours during our orbit around Kharans IV, a newly discovered planet in the Arucanis Arm. For a number of reasons (not the least of which was a persistent sensor “echo” during warp travel), Commander Adlit felt that the array and deflector needed to be realigned. She came to me and requested permission to take them offline, and I had granted her permission to do so.

Unbeknownst to me, Commander Kosher and his team in exo-biology had been planning to use the secondary sensor array to conduct a scan of the planetary atmosphere, which houses a remarkable form of microscopic life that thrives in the planet’s methane-rich mesosphere. When Commander Adlit informed Mr. Kosher of the planned downtime, he was not happy (and this is putting it mildly). Adlit and Kosher’s discussion became extremely heated, and words were exchanged. Being the professional that she is, Commander Adlit extricated herself from the situation to put an end to the arguing, and returned to her post at the bridge. Commander Kosher, apparently still in a state of some agitated, proceeded to Engineering, where he falsely informed our Chief Engineer, Mr. Laroche, that the sensor alignment had been ordered delayed for several hours, and that the array could remain online. He then proceeded back to the Life Sciences lab where he and his team completed their scans.

This might have been the end of it, had Commander Kosher been able to leave things be. However, after completing his scans, he proceeded to the bridge, where Commander Adlit was still on duty, to present the results of his scans and analysis to me. Commander Adlit, overhearing our conversation, asked Mr. Kosher how he had completed the scans with the array off-line. Mr. Kosher, with no indication of regret, told her of his communication to Engineering.

Needless to say, I took Mr. Kosher to my ready room where he and I had a long, and frank, discussion about his methods and his future aboard the Exploration. I’ve since placed a formal reprimand on Mr. Kosher’s record and relieved him of duty for three days, during which he will be confined to quarters. I am also seriously considering replacing him as head of Life Sciences.

He is a brilliant man, there is no arguing that. However, his personality and methods leave much to be desired. He drives the Life Sciences team hard – too hard at times – and I’ve been forced, several times, to ask him to be gentler and more understanding with the less senior members of his staff (Ensigns Ramirez and Ghendrix have both indicated to me that he frequently asks his teams to work well past their duty shifts, and that they are often berated for not working “to standard.”) Kosher is a definite asset to the crew, and his knowledge of his field puts him among the leading thinkers in Star Fleet. At the same time, I have to think about the crew and those people who have to serve with him. I’m hoping this reprimand will be sufficient for Kosher to get the message. If not, more drastic action may be required.

stardate 84878.55

Personal log.
Captain, USS Exploration.

It’s been a strange week. Or more accurately, it’s been a strange four months. I think a little explanation is in order.

We had been assigned to do a survey mission in the Hromi Cluster. While mapping a type-three nebula, we ran across a Klingon battle group that had been using the Nebula as an ambush point for passing civilian vessels. The battle group, two Hegh’ta-class Birds of Prey, and a Negh’Var Battle Cruiser, surprised us just after we had dispatched our newly outfitted survey shuttle.

(As an interesting side-note, the shuttle, which the crew has affectionately dubbed “The Seeker,” functioned remarkably well and the modifications to the sensor array that Commanders Laroche and Banks put in place allowed us to nearly double our scanning speed and resolution. By linking the sensor array on the Exploration with the Seeker we were able to essentially create a sensor “net”, which mapped the nebula remarkably quickly and also was a large part of the reason we were able to detect the cloaked Klingon ships and raise shields just before they launched their attack.)

Because Commanders Laroche and Banks were aboard the Seeker we had to drop shields briefly for the Seeker to dock. The Klingons were faster on the trigger than we’d anticipated, and during the three seconds when the shields were down, the Battle Cruiser managed to launch a volley of torpedoes. The attack was devastating and we lost most of our core systems – main computer, propulsion, command functions, subspace communications. Main engineering was ripped to shreds. We also lost one hundred twenty-seven good people. People with families. People with children. I couldn’t even order an evacuation – we were in the middle of a nebula and I know the Klingons would have just picked off our escape pods one by one.

We were desperate and we made a desperate move.

The warp core was still intact and although torpedoes were off-line we could still fire our rear phaser banks. Turning our aft side to the Klingons, we started to limp away. Knowing it was a huge risk and our only chance, I ordered the rear shields dropped. The Klingons took the bait and all three ships came around to our aft facing. As they closed within weapons range I ordered the core ejected. Before they could react we were able to detonate it using a burst from our phasers. All three Klingon ships were badly damaged, and we were able to limp away without pursuit.

That’s when the problems really started.

With no warp core and most of the major systems off-line we were in trouble. The nearest starbase was nowhere near enough for sub-light communication to be effective we were forced to rely on our impulse engines to travel at sub (but near) light speeds. As any first year cadet knows, the danger of such travel is the time dilation that occurs when travelling close to the speed of light. So we spent the next week at 90% of c. And while we travelled, time passed – four months in the blink of an eye. Suffice it to say, we were glad to reach the Honod system and see some friendly faces.

We’ve completed repairs and we’re back on our way, but I think the psychological effects of essentially losing four months of time has worn on the crew. We’ve been ordered back to the Sol system to receive some new crew and take a month of downtime. I think we can all use it. I know that I can. Carol’s been wanting to see Bajor and DS9. Perhaps while the ship is at spacedock, we’ll book passage. I wouldn’t mind taking a turn at the Dabo wheel.

stardate 84556.64

Personal log.
Captain, USS Exploration.

It’s been an eventful few months. We’ve just recently put in at Starbase 24 for repairs and a refit to the Exploration. We had a few run-ins with the Borg during our recent excursions to the Gamma Orionis sector and the Exploration was more than a little roughed up. We lost our secondary deflector and the saucer section suffered some serious damage. Thankfully, despite some injuries to the crew, there were no deaths.

It turned out to be a good time to have to put in for repairs. An engineering team from Utopia Planitia had just arrived at the station to make some upgrades to her defences, and I was able to “borrow” the crew for a short period to supplement the available maintenance staff, cutting our repair time in half. Joe (Commander Laroche, our Chief Engineer) was able to make some modifications of his own during the repairs, and recommended a refit to our current deflector dish that would more than double its output. This allowed us to forego reinstallation of a second deflector (a fact that further cut down repair time), improved the manoeuvrability of the ship slightly, and allowed for the installation of a new transpectral sensor array, as well as some supplementary defensive systems. The ship definitely has a new feel to it – sleeker, easier to handle and more capable in a fight.

Even with the reduced repair times, everything took time. Three months on a Starbase is a long time when you’re used to open space. I have to say though, we were made to feel at home. I think that Arthur liked being able to get off the ship and run around. Even though the Exploration has a fairly extensive hydroponics bay, it’s nothing compared to the hydroponics garden they have on the base and he really enjoyed being able to get his hands dirty and do some real digging around. Some of the experiments they’re running in artificial agriculture and horticulture are astonishing. Thanks to their extensive gardens, little of the food on the base has to be replicated. I have to admit that it was nice to be able to eat real, non-replicated food for a few months (though my waistline certainly didn’t need it). I think that when we put back out into open space, I’ll look at converting one of our cargo bays on the Exploration to a larger hydroponics bay and see if we can supplement our food supplies that way. It would also give us the opportunity to run some experiments of our own.

Carol received a promotion while we here - Commander Banks. I could tell how proud she was. She certainly deserved it – her work during our time in Gamma Orionis was exemplary and she pulled our bacon out of the fire more than once. She’s recently taken an interest in astrometrics and stellar cartography and she used her time on Starbase 24 to take a number of extension courses on the subject. With our previous head of the Astrometrics Department (Lt. Commander Geynla) having just recently transferred to the USS Grissom, I’m thinking of giving her the position. I’ll have to run it past Commander T’Fren (my first officer) in order to avoid any possible conflict of interest. I think she’s a good candidate for the job – I know Carol’s not interested in command, but she can definitely run the department and she certainly has the expertise in the field to be effective in the position.

During our stay on the Starbase we received a new crew member, Commander Kosher, from the USS Ukraine. He’s got a good record and I think he’ll fit in with the crew. He’ll be heading up our Life Sciences department (he’s an expert in biology, exo-biology and exo-botany) and I think he’ll do a good job at it. The only concern I have is his leadership ability. He definitely knows his stuff, but he comes across as a bit distant. I know Kosher has his heart set on command, but I’ll have to see how he runs his department before I make any recommendations.

The last of the maintenance crews is just giving the Exploration one last shakedown before we head back out. I’m excited to be back out there. Because of our new sensor array, we’ve been assigned to do a number of survey missions in the B’Tran Cluster and I’m curious to see what we can find out there. It’ll be nice to feel the deckplates under my feet again. I think I’ve almost gotten too used to being on a ship, it doesn’t feel right to stay still.

stardate 84486.25

Personal log.
Captain, USS Exploration.


Another new ship. This is number five in six years – I thought we were supposed to serve on these things for a while. Though I did see the Hippocrates the other day. Her CO is very competent. Young and eager, but competent. It’s good to know that even with all the light years we put on her, she’s still fit for service.

The Mercy isn’t so lucky.

Sadly, while on patrol in the Archanis Sector we were caught in a confrontation with a Klingon battle group and she was lost. There wasn’t much we could do but hold on for our lives – five Birds of Prey and a Vor’cha battle cruiser had more firepower than we could handle, even with our newly upgraded shields and weapons systems. The battle lasted about ten minutes before our hull suffered catastrophic damage and I was forced to order the crew to abandon the ship. We managed to take four of the birds with us, but there was no way we could have survived the onslaught.

Thankfully, the USS Exeter was in the area and managed to swoop in and scare the Klingons off before they could capture any of us or destroy our escape pods. All hands escaped with only a few serious injuries among the bunch.

At least that went right.

Arthur was shaken up but alright. I suppose one of the advantages of being seven years old is that nothing really bothers you too much. To be honest, I think he kind of enjoyed seeing the battle up close. Carol and I had a serious talk afterwards about the possibility of putting him back on Earth. We both agreed that there was danger everywhere and neither of us really wanted to think about sending him away. It’s hard to believe he’s spent more than half of his life on starships now. He doesn’t seem any worse for the wear though.

It seems Starfleet isn’t overly disappointed in me. Although we had to go through all the official paperwork associated with the destruction of a starship, Command recognized the impossible situation we had faced and actually commended me on getting my crew out alive.

I’ve been assigned as commanding officer of the USS Exploration, a deep space science vessel. While we’ll still be involved in some strategic actions, we’re one of the few vessels that are charged with a scientific mandate right now. We’ll actually have the opportunity to go out and do some system surveys and the like. The crew is excited about the new ship and the possibility that we may not have to fire our phasers every day.

I’m excited to be exploring again. I’m tired of the endless fighting, and I’ve gotten a little too good at killing for my tastes. A break from the action will do me, and the crew, some good.

stardate 84483.74

Report to Starfleet (File 241-1231-131A-44X-313)

Security Clearance 10 only

heuristic search tags: subspace entity, subspace mind, subspace alien, telepathy, USS Mercy, Daniel Carver, alternate universe, subspace dimensional rift, amoeboid alien, fluidic space

encryption sequence:

65464984231ASmCs2***CC23F

Filed by: Draymen of Vulcan (Chief Medical Officer, USS Mercy)

Personal logs (Captain Daniel Carver) dated stardate 2613.23, 2612.22, 2495.01 cross-referenced
Lab Report (MADHAV-912A-1231C1) cross-referenced

**Begin report**

At the request of Captain Carver (due to his personal involvement in the events described), this report to Starfleet is being filed by Draymen of Vulcan, Chief Medical Officer.

As referenced in personal logs, Captain Carver had recently had a number of unexplained experiences involving his perceptions of an alien life form attempting to interact with him. After the last incident (stardate 2613.23), in which the Captain was rendered unconscious and badly burned by contact with a highly alkaline substance (pH 12.4 according to medical scans collected immediately after the incident), the crew of the Mercy began conducting extensive sensor sweeps of the ship, both internal and external. Initial scans indicated no anomalous readings. At the suggestion of Commander Sorbek (Senior Science Officer) we extended scans beyond normal parameters to include searches for tachyon radiation and sub-space distortions. Scans involving these broadened search parameters yielded surprising results, indicating a sub-space field radiating from Captain Carver. The field was emitting trace amounts of tachyon radiation. This field was entirely localized to the Captain (see USS Mercy Internal Sensor Log, file 41233.12331.123121.131A).

Upon closer examination, it was found that Captain Carver was existing in a state of dimensional flux. The sub-space field emanating from him was somehow allowing him to exist simultaneously in “normal” space-time and a sub-space pocket dimension. Commander Sorbek postulated that the ship and the aliens that Captain Carver had been encountering may be native to this pocket dimension and that Captain Carver was somehow interacting with them. After postulating a number of possible solutions, Commander Laroche (Chief Engineer) suggested that encapsulating the Captain within a tachyon field may break him free of his entanglement with the pocket universe and jar him completely back into normal space. The Captain agreed and preparations were immediately undertaken.

Due to the danger to Captain Carver, he was held in sickbay during the preparations (which were estimated to take 2 – 3 hours to complete). During this time, Captain Carver was under my observation. At approximately 12:43 hours (ship’s time), Captain Carver fell unconscious. Medical scans indicated that he high levels of tachyon radiation were emanating from him and a visible “warping” of space around the Captain’s form was observed (see USS Mercy Medical Scans, file 1231.131222.31485.133A). This continued for several minutes, after which the Captain awoke. He sustained several chemical burns on his hands, face and chest. These burns were from an alkaline source (pH 12.4 according to medical scans).

 

The Captain reported that he had again been drawn into the pocket universe where he was able to communicate with the sub-space aliens (which he described as amoeboid aliens). According to the Captain, the aliens were able to communicate with him using a limited form of telepathy. His report (Captain’s Log, file 4413.313.1312) is transcribed here:

The aliens were able to communicate with me telepathically. Due to the differences in our physiology and brain structure, the information we were able to share was limited, but I did glean a few key items. First, they exist in a part of fluidic space and are familiar with the Undine (who they call the Keepers). They indicated that fluidic space, unlike our space, is not physically uniform and has a number of “pockets” in which the laws of physics vary. They also told me that I had become entangled in their universe during my experiments with sub-space fields and their effect on neurological decay. I sensed no malevolent intention during my contact with the alien and they indicated that they wished me no harm.

Based on Captain Carver’s report, the burns he sustained were likely due to contact with the atmosphere of the alien dimension (which is likely alkaline-based).

Shortly after the incident, Mr. Laroche completed his preparations and Captain Carver underwent the tachyon bombardment procedure. All scans since then indicate that Captain Carver’s entanglement with the pocket universe has been corrected. As per instructions from Starfleet Command, we will continue to monitor Captain Carver for further encounters with the pocket universe of sub-space aliens and report any such incidents immediately.

**End report**

stardate 84423.4

Personal log.
Captain, USS Mercy.


Something is definitely not right. As I said in my log yesterday, I’ve been experiencing some strange dreams as of late, even when I’m not sleeping. Today things have gone in a whole new direction though.

I was having my morning tea in my quarters this morning. Carol had already left for the day (she’s currently assigned to the delta shift) and Arthur was sleeping in his room. Suddenly, I heard a sound coming from the bedroom area. I couldn’t identify it – it was more of a dull thump than anything. Putting down my tea, I quickly retrieved my hand phaser from the secure storage area and crept into the bedroom. I heard the sound again, a dull thump. Once I was in the bedroom, I realized the sound was coming from the closet.

Bracing myself, I stepped forward and pushed the door release. As the door slid open, I stepped backward pointing my phaser into the recesses of the closet.

Except there was no closet.

The door didn’t open to reveal the rows of uniforms and off-duty clothes I expected to see. Instead, it opened into a strange corridor lit with a greenish hue. I had an irresistible compulsion to go down the hallway. Although everything rational faculty in my mind was screaming not to enter, it was as though I’d lost control of my limbs, as though my physical body and mind had become separated somehow. As I stepped into the corridor, the door closed behind me, disappearing into the darkness.

The air was acrid and heavy. Humid. The walls, ceiling and floor were moist, apparently covered with some sort of thick, liquid coating. I knew I wasn’t dreaming, and despite my mental protests, I did not feel fear. Intellectually I knew I wasn’t being safe, but my body continued onward down the corridor against my mental protestations.

I travelled forward, perhaps ten meters, before coming to a large barrier. What can best be described as a door. Like the other surfaces, it was covered with a thick mucous-like substance. I could see my hand raising up and reaching out to the door. As my fingers touched the surface, I could feel the sensation of the liquid between my fingers but I had no control over my movements. I felt like an observer in my own body.
As I pulled my hand away, the door disappeared, revealing a large, circular chamber. In the centre of the chamber was what appeared to be a chair of some sort, and on that chair was a creature.

It wasn’t large, perhaps a meter and a half tall, but it was completely alien. I’ve been exposed to many strange life forms in my time with Starfleet, but this creature nearly defied description. It appeared to be comprised largely of a thick liquid-like substance with no visible sensory organs. Where one would expect to see a mouth was a large transparent tendril that waved hypnotically. Below this were several smaller tentacles that were still.

As I stood there, the creature moved forward, a sliding movement more akin to water flowing downhill than any sort of locomotion I’d seen before. As it drew closer, it emitted a low gurgling sound. I knew somehow that the creature was not angry or aggressive. It was trying to communicate something to me, but I couldn’t understand.

As it drew closer to me, it’s small tentacles extended, brushing against my hands. The sensation was almost akin to that of a jellyfish sting. Despite the pain, I couldn’t draw away.

The next thing I knew I woke up in sickbay. Draymen, my medical officer, informed me that they had located me in my quarters, unconscious and I’d been comatose for nearly 5 days. My hands had been badly burnt. According to the medical scanners, they’d been exposed to a highly alkaline substance which had left severe chemical burns.

I immediately called for a full sensor sweep of the area and placed the ship under red alert. After relaying my story to the senior bridge crew, I set them the task of finding out what was going on. This is more than just a dream. This is more than just in my mind.

Something strange is happening here.

stardate 84408.32

Personal log.
Captain, USS Mercy.

The last 12 hours have been extremely disconcerting.

It began last night. After Carol and I had put Arthur to bed for the night, she and I played a game of chess. We went to bed a little earlier than usual, at 21:00.

That’s when things began to get very strange.

I had the most vivid dream I’d ever had. So vivid that I still wonder if it wasn’t real.

I was standing on the bridge, completely alone. We were at red alert. The bridge was bathed in a strange green light and the sound of the klaxons was all round me. I remember feeling strangely at ease, as though I knew everything was going to be okay despite the situation. I looked up at the viewscreen and there was a ship I had never seen before. It was massive, but I didn’t feel afraid. For some reason I knew that it wouldn’t harm me or my crew.

I was awakened suddenly by the comm. Starfleet Command had sent a priority one signal from Earth diverting the Mercy to the Rolor Nebula. We were being called upon to search for True Way ships hiding in the Nebula. The USS Relentless, an escort, was being sent with us to provide support. After I dressed, I began to make my way to the bridge. When I got there everything seemed normal. Then I glanced at the viewscreen and the ship, the same ship from my dream, was displayed there. I turned to my tactical officer and ordered a red alert, but when I turned my attention back to the screen, there was nothing there.

The bridge crew must have thought I was losing my mind. We scoured the sensor logs, but they showed no indication of any ship or any unusual readings. I even had my CMO run a full neurological scan on me, but it didn’t show anything.

Maybe the stress is starting to get to me. 

stardate 84335.41

Personal log.
Captain, USS Mercy.

Another promotion. Dad would’ve been proud.

I’ve been on Earth for a few weeks now, sorting out the details after dad’s death. It’s amazing how much work there is to do when someone dies. I always knew how many reports I had to write as a doctor when someone passed away, but that’s nothing compared to what surviving family members have to fill out. Someone in the Federation Council loves forms – there’s form 441.21A (Statement and Proof of Death), 441.22A (Survivor Benefits and Inheritances), 442.12C (Statement and Proof of Familial Relation) and about 30 other forms I’ve had to fill out since attending dad’s memorial service.

I’ve been placed in command of the USS Mercy, a new medical ship, fresh from Utopia Planitia. She’s a beauty of a ship – more than 200 crew, one of the most advanced sensor arrays in the fleet and large enough medical facilities to triage a colony. Arthur’s enjoying himself – our quarters onboard are pretty luxurious compared to the Madhav, and Carol is making herself right at home. Admiral Quinn told me he wanted someone experienced in the field to be in command of the Mercy, and it seems that description applies to me now. Strange, five years ago I was a cadet. Now, I’m thirty-seven, a captain and considered to be a veteran officer. Hard to believe how much the war has changed things in the Fleet. Thirty years ago I’d be lucky to have made Lieutenant Commander by now.

It seems as though everything’s speeding up lately – life, duty, the war. I wish things would slow down, if only for a moment. Sometimes it feels like I can hardly catch my breath.