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Post by Duragizer on Aug 14, 2018 3:33:53 GMT -5
After watching TOS for the first time a number of years ago, I’ve was left with the desire to create my own (non-Kelvin Timeline) reboot for the Star Trek Universe. It wasn’t because I thought the show was bad – far from it, in fact – but because I felt the series, for all its good characters and stories, never really realized its full potential, hampered as it was by storytelling conventions and SFX limitations of 1960s television. In 2015, I started writing a pilot episode for a soft reboot of TOS; this reboot series was to consist of five seasons with 13-to-16 episodes each. It didn't take long for me to realize writing 65-to-80 episodes would be too daunting for me alone, and so I abandoned the idea. I did complete that one pilot story, though. After some rewriting, I've decided to go ahead and post it here. To Boldly Go is based partially on two separate stories: Enterprise: The First Adventure & Star Trek Annual #1. Although I made changes to my original script to bring it more in-line with the Prime Universe, it still retains elements I envisioned for my soft reboot; Starfleet uniforms are somewhat different, for instance, and some of the technology operates differently than in established Trek lore. |
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Post by Duragizer on Aug 14, 2018 3:48:40 GMT -5
FADE IN
On Ghioghe, a terrestrial M-class planet.
Glowing with an almost eerie radiance in the pitch black of space, its sun burning chartreuse in the distance, Ghioghe has in its orbit thirteen starships. Three of these ships — the Federation-class dreadnought Entente, the Detroyat-class heavy destroyer Sardaukar, and the Newton-class starship Lydia Sutherland — belong to the United Federation of Planets while the remaining ten — an assortment of frigates, corvettes, and destroyers — belong to Ghioghe’s defense fleet. The two sides are locked in battle, and the Federation ships — outnumbered, outgunned — are losing the fight.
INT. LYDIA SUTHERLAND/BRIDGE
Seated in the command chair, dressed in the shiny black jackboots, black trousers, green undershirt, gray jacket, and insignia pin of a Starfleet commanding officer, is COMMANDER JAMES R. KIRK. Well-built, handsome, with a square jaw and dark blond hair, Kirk is a Human male who glows with an intense, fierce determination which belies his young age of thirty-one years. Located directly in front of the command chair are the navigation, tactical, and helm stations. Manning these stations are three individuals: Thelin, a gracile Andorian male; Rlad, a stocky Tellarite male; and Cojji, a Human female. Their uniforms are nearly identical to Kirk's, though Cojji and Rlad wear different insignia and beige undershirts in place of green.
EXT. SPACE — GHIOGHE
As the Lydia Sutherland moves into position, twin azure beams flash from the starship’s forward phasers, converging upon the portside engines of the blade-shaped corvette engaging it. Minimal damage is inflicted to the corvette. A destroyer joining the corvette, the two Ghioghe ships open fire on the Newton-class starship. Six purple beams burn through the starship’s failing deflector shields, slicing through the forward section.
INT. LYDIA SUTHERLAND/BRIDGE
Several control panels explode. Many officers, caught in the blast, are blown out of their seats. The lights aboard the bridge begin flickering erratically.
KIRK: Damage report!
Unfortunately for the commander, most of the bridge crew now lie strew about the bridge deck unconscious, dying, or dead. Pressing a button set in his chair’s controls, Kirk activates the red alert, sending the ship klaxons blaring. Leaving his seat, Kirk quickly goes to the navigation, tactical, and helm stations. Rlad and Cojji — bodies charred black from the blasts — are dead, but Thelin escaped the brunt of the explosion alive, if grievously burned.
Returning to his chair, Kirk activates the intercom.
KIRK: Medical personnel, report to the bridge! We have injured here!
EXT. SPACE — GHIOGHE
The Ghioghe ships open fire upon the Lydia Sutherland again. This time the beams cut into the ship's impulse engines.
INT. LYDIA SUTHERLAND/BRIDGE
With a terrific explosion, violent shocks reverberate through the length of the ship. Tossed clear off his feet, Kirk is sent forward into the forward viewscreen. Hitting the surface at an odd angle, he then collapses to the deck, face bloody, eyes closed. The internal lighting and artificial gravity fail as the ship’s power dies.
EXT. SPACE — GHIOGHE
Coming to the Sutherland’s aid, the Entente passes over the Newton-class starship like an avenging angel, training its phaser banks on two Ghioghe destroyers. Opening fire, the Federation-class dreadnought decimates the ships completely. Catching the Lydia Sutherland in its tractor beam, the Entente, along with the Sardaukar, turn away from the enemy fleet and head away from the planet. Once they have cleared some distance, the three Federation craft jump to the safety of warp.
INT. LYDIA SUTHERLAND/TRANSPORTER ROOM
At the back end of the room, built into its own alcove, is the ship’s transporter. Consisting of two components — a round pad set in the floor; a round projector set in the ceiling — it is equipped with its own generator, leaving it ready for operation though the rest of the Sutherland’s systems have gone dead. A large tube of blue energy manifests within the transporter. Energized particles pool within the tube, coalescing into sixteen distinct shapes. The transport process complete, the tube dissipates, leaving a rescue party of SIXTEEN STARFLEET PERSONNEL standing there.
Attired in gray excursion jumpsuits, medical equipment at hand, the rescue party members reach for the visors around their eyes, setting them on infrared mode, allowing them to see in the dark. One brings out her comcorder, a mechanical device resembling an early 21st century flip phone. Springing it open with the press of a button, she brings a holographic display of technical readouts up from the comcorder's small projector.
INT. LYDIA SUTHERLAND/BRIDGE
Forcing the bridge door open, the rescue party enters. Inside, they find the bridge crew members — the dead and the barely alive — floating about like prone, motionless ghosts. Moving inward, taking care to locate and administer aid to the survivors, they soon come upon Cmdr. Kirk himself.
FADE OUT
BEGIN OPENING CREDITS
FADE IN
On a black starfield.
Travelling through this starfield, we pass by several exotic planets and colourful nebulae until we finally come to focus on the Constitution-class starship USS Enterprise.
KIRK: (V.O.) Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise: to explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go where no Man has gone before.
The Enterprise vanishes from sight as it goes to warp.
STAR TREK
Starring
? as CAPT. JAMES R. KIRK
? as LT. CMDR. GARY MITCHELL
? as LT. CMDR. S'POCK
? as DR. MARK PIPER
? as LT. CMDR. MONTGOMERY SCOTT
? as LT. NYOTA UHURA
? as LT. HIKARU SULU
? as MAJ. HADIA RUAN
and ? as YN. JANICE RAND
END OPENING CREDITS
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Post by Deleted on Aug 14, 2018 10:28:03 GMT -5
This is going to be fun ride!  |
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Post by Duragizer on Aug 14, 2018 21:59:42 GMT -5
INT. MANTILLES — APARTMENT COMPLEX/KIRK’S APARTMENT — DAWN
In the early hours of the Mantillian dawn, as the first dull rays of sunlight filter through the small, one-room apartment’s window blinds, James Kirk — dressed in black jackboots, trousers, and green undershirt — stands over a small suitcase, loading his few possessions — a couple microtapes, a Quran, a thin sheaf of family photos, and one handwritten letter — into it.
KIRK: Computer.
COMPUTER: Ready.
KIRK: Close out my account here.
COMPUTER: Done.
Closing the suitcase, Kirk walks over to a chair and takes a gray Starfleet jacket up from it. As he pulls it on and zips it closed, we can tell by the braids embroidered on his sleeves that he is no longer a commander; he has been promoted to captain. Returning to his suitcase, he picks it up then leaves the apartment without a single look back.
EXT. FEDERATION TEACHING HOSPITAL — DAWN
Emerging from a taxi, Kirk finds himself before the Federation Teaching Hospital, a short but wide building with a pristine exterior of whitewashed walls and sparkling clean windows. Approaching the hospital, Kirk climbs the steps to the front entrance.
SUPERIMPOSE: TO BOLDY GO
INT. FEDERATION TEACHING HOSPITAL/REGENERATION WARD — DAWN
Entering the ward, Kirk makes his way to a long, transparent regeneration tank. Lying inside the tank, immersed up to his neck in a green regenerative gel, is Thelin. Though his burns have healed, the Andorian remains unconscious, in a deep coma. Taking a seat in a chair beside the tank, Kirk locks a pained gaze upon his subordinate.
KIRK: They keep telling me you’ll wake up soon. I hope it’s true. You’ve been here too long, and it isn’t fair. (beat) They also claim you can’t hear me because of the drugs, but they’re wrong. I don’t care if they think I’m nuts to talk to you. (beat) I saw it all going wrong at Ghioghe. I still can’t believe Sieren could make a mistake like that. I saw — this is going to sound weird, Thelin, I know it — but I saw the pattern of what was happening. I knew that if everyone would calm down for thirty seconds, if all the commanders held their fire for another minute, the crisis would pass. But it didn’t happen that way. (shakes head) Lord, I admired Sieren. (beat) I saw the pattern, I knew how to fix it, but I couldn’t do anything and it all went wrong. Is that how it was for Sieren? Is that how it would have been for me, if I had been in command? Axanar could have turned out just the same, but it didn’t. We came out of that one covered in glory and holding a peace treaty. Was that just good luck?
Kirk rises from his chair.
KIRK: It’s alright. Sleep, get well. I have to leave for Starbase 95 soon to begin my assignment on the Enterprise, but I’ll check in to see how you’re doing as often as I can, my friend. I promise.
At that moment, Christine Chapel, a handsome blonde dressed in a blue nurse’s uniform, enters the room, a clipboard-sized PADD cradled under her right arm.
CHRISTINE CHAPEL: Good morning, Captain.
Kirk doesn’t seem to hear her.
CHRISTINE CHAPEL: Captain?
Finally noticing her, the captain turns to acknowledge the young nurse.
KIRK: Sorry, Ms. Chapel. I’m still not used to being addressed as “captain”. Good morning.
The nurse approaches the captain.
CHRISTINE CHAPEL: The biotelemetry on Cmdr. Thelin is very encouraging. I thought you’d like to know.
KIRK: Then why doesn’t he wake up?
CHRISTINE CHAPEL: He will. (beat) When he’s ready.
Chapel calls the information on Thelin’s current medical condition up on her PADD, then hands the device to Kirk. Accepting it, he reads it over.
KIRK: (smiles) I see he has the heart of an eighteen-year-old.
CHRISTINE CHAPEL: (grins) Yes — in a jar on his closet shelf. (beat) He will be alright, Captain. I promise you that.
KIRK: Thank you, Ms. Chapel.
Deactivating the PADD, the captain hands it back to the nurse.
KIRK: (cont’d) Ms. Chapel …
CHRISTINE CHAPEL: Yes, Captain?
KIRK: Would you do me a favour?
CHRISTINE CHAPEL: If I can.
KIRK: I know it isn’t supposed to make any difference, but I keep remembering the time before I woke up. I could hear things — or thought I could hear — but I couldn’t open my eyes and I didn’t know where I was or what had happened to me. While Thelin’s still asleep, could you … talk to him? Tell him he’s going to be alright….
CHRISTINE CHAPEL: (touches Kirk’s arm reassuringly) Of course I will.
KIRK: Thank you. (beat) I’m supposed to report to Starbase 95 soon. I’d like to leave a note —?
CHRISTINE CHAPEL: You can use the office in back.
INT. FEDERATION TEACHING HOSPITAL/REGENERATION WARD/OFFICE — DAWN
As Kirk enters the office, he finds two individuals engaged in conversation, standing with their backs turned to him. Both female, one is a genetically modified near-Human with radiant blue-green eyes and silver hair while the other is a baseline woman with short blond hair.
SILVER-HAIRED DOCTOR: (cont’d) No, of course not. It’s just — (notices Kirk) Why, Capt. Kirk! How nice to see you looking so well!
The blonde — CAROL MARCUS — spins around upon hearing that name.
CAROL MARCUS: Jim!
KIRK: Hello, Carol.
SILVER-HAIRED DOCTOR: (to Carol) Talk to you later.
The doctor leaves so the two baseline Humans can converse in private.
CAROL MARCUS: How are you feeling, Jim?
KIRK: (ignores question) It’s wonderful to see you. I have to leave soon. Can we … I’d like to talk to you. Would you have a drink with me?
CAROL MARCUS: It’s too early in the day for a drink, Jim….
KIRK: Oh, of course!
CAROL MARCUS: (cont’d) But I will go for a walk with you.
EXT. PARK — DAY
Mantilles’ sun has risen high in the western sky, casting its red rays upon the beautiful orange foliage of the park. Kirk and Carol walk together along a narrow dirt path, hand-in-hand.
CAROL MARCUS: We are still friends, I hope.
KIRK: I hope so, too.
CAROL MARCUS: Are you sleeping any better?
Kirk hesitates too long before answering.
KIRK: I’m sleeping fine.
CAROL MARCUS: If you want to talk about it …
KIRK: (flustered) No, I don’t want to talk about it! (gently) No, I don’t want to talk about it.
They soon reach a small lake. As they take a seat on a bench close to the shore, a number of small violet cephalopods rise from the water, flailing their short tentacles in search of a handout.
CAROL MARCUS: (looks upon cephalopods) We always forget to bring them anything. How many times have we walked here? We always meant to bring them some bread, but we never did.
KIRK: We had … other things on our minds.
CAROL MARCUS: Yes….
KIRK: (frustrated) Carol, there’s got to be someway —!
He cuts himself off when he notices her tense up.
CAROL MARCUS: Such as what?
KIRK: We could … we could get married.
CAROL MARCUS: What?
KIRK: Let’s get married. Come with me to Starbase 95. Admiral Noguchi could perform the ceremony.
CAROL MARCUS: But why marriage, for heaven’s sake?
KIRK: That’s the way we do it in my family.
CAROL MARCUS: Not in mine. (beat) And anyway, it still wouldn’t work.
KIRK: It’s worked for quite a number of millennia. (beat) Carol, I love you. You love me. You’re the person I’d most want to be with if I were stranded on a desert planet. We have fun together — remember when we went to the dock and snuck on board the Majel for our own private tour — (notices her strange expression) It’s true.
CAROL MARCUS: Yes, it’s true, and I have missed you. The house is awfully quiet without you.
KIRK: (smiles) Then you’ll do it?
CAROL MARCUS: (shakes head) No. We talked about this too many times. No matter what we do, it wouldn’t make any difference. I can’t be with you and you can’t be with me.
KIRK: But I could. I could transfer to headquarters —
CAROL MARCUS: Jim….
The pretty young woman takes both of Kirk’s hands in hers and gazes deeply into his eyes.
CAROL MARCUS: (cont’d) I remember how you felt when you found out you were getting command of the Enterprise. Do you think anyone who loved you would want to take that away from you? Do you think you could love anyone who tried?
KIRK: (voice breaks) I love you. I don’t want to lose you.
CAROL MARCUS: I don’t want to lose you, either, but I lost you before I ever met you. (tear runs from eye) I can get used to the quiet. I can’t get used to having you back for a few weeks at a time and losing you over-and-over-and-over again.
KIRK: (miserable) I know you’re right. I just …
Tears running down both their faces, they kiss for the final time. Carol then holds him to her, allowing him to rest his head on her shoulder as he weeps.
CAROL MARCUS: (crying) I love you, too, Jim, but we don’t live on a desert planet.
EXT. M5O-0024 — CRICHTON SETTLEMENT — CITYSCAPE — DAY
On the Federation colony M5O-0024, a violet-and-mauve gas giant looms large in the northern sky, the distant white sun of the system shining just off to the northeast, casting its bright, clean light on the coastal buildings of Crichton Settlement, the O-class moon’s largest city.
INT. APARTMENT COMPLEX/KUBAKA & NYOTA’S APARTMENT — DAY
Entering the apartment, we travel to the bedroom, where we find a suitcase — open and partially packed — atop the large, king-sized bed. Moving out of the bedroom, we come to the living room, where we find two dark-skinned Humans standing together. LIEUTENANT NYOTA UHURA, a pretty woman with short black hair, dark brown eyes, and a strong, toned body, is of Terran extraction, a native of the African Confederation. Kabaka Bubunga — a man with short, curly hair, a thin mustache, and a taller, finer build than that of his companion — is of similar heritage.
KABAKA BUGUNGA: So you’re really going, Nyota?
UHURA: Yes, Kabaka. Did you really expect otherwise?
KABAKA BUGUNGA: (shakes head with confusion) I didn’t know. I … (reaches into pant pocket) Here, I have something for you.
Pulling the object out — a small ebony box — he presents it to Uhura, resting a hand lovingly on her shoulder as he does so. Taking the box, she opens it. Inside, nestled against scarlet velvet lining, is a beautiful electrum ring set with an ornate turquoise.
UHURA: A wedding ring? (beat) Kabaka, that’s very sweet, but —
Gently but firmly, Kabaka directs Uhura over to a sofa and sits her down in it.
KABAKA BUGUNGA: (sits beside Uhura, facing her) Marry me, Nyota. What do you need space for when you’ve got someone who loves you right here?
UHURA: And I love you, Kabaka … but I can’t just abandon my career. Comm officer of the Enterprise is a promotion I can’t refuse.
KABAKA BUGUNGA: (frowns) And you expect me to wait for you, is that it?
UHURA: No … no.
Taking one last look at the wedding ring in its box, she replaces it in Kabaka’s hands, closing his fingers over it as she does so.
UHURA: (cont’d) I’ll wait for you.
A poor choice of words, apparently. Upon hearing them, Kabaka’s face contorts with intense, sudden anger. Bolting up from the sofa, he gazes upon his lover, cheeks livid with rage.
KABAKA BUGUNGA: Don’t bother, Uhura …
Taking the ring, Kabaka hurls it across the room. Hitting the far wall, it drops to the floor with a low THUNK.
KABAKA BUGUNGA: (cont’d) I won’t be here when you get back.
Turning on his heel, he strides to the apartment door. By the time Uhura goes to stop him, he has already stormed out.
UHURA: (staring after him) Goodbye….
INT. ENTERPRISE/OFFICERS' QUARTERS
A man comes to stand before a closed door. Clad in a uniform nearly identical to Kirk’s, he keeps his hands clasped behind his back, an aura of what can only be described as relaxed but contemplative focus worn about him. A tall, lanky man who wears his dark black hair shorn short and his facial expression neutral, he looks almost like an average, nondescript Human male; only the greenish tinge to his light skin, his upturned eyebrows, and his pointed ears betray the non-baseline side of his heritage. This is LIEUTENANT COMMANDER S’POCK, the Vulcan/Human hybrid science officer of the USS Enterprise.
Raising a finger, he presses the door’s buzzer.
CAPT. PIKE: (O.S.) Come.
The door slides open, allowing S’Pock inside.
INT. ENTERPRISE/CAPT. PIKE’S QUARTERS
As the door closes behind him, S’Pock finds CAPTAIN CHRISTOPHER PIKE seated behind his deck. A handsome man in his early forties, Pike has dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Elbows resting atop the desk and his chin atop his fists, he stares at holographic images of old friends, family, and colleagues being projected from a data crystal in a data reader upon his desk. His eyes are solidly fixed on the three dimensional images, his expression pensive. Glancing up from the images, Pike seems to take notice of S’Pock for the first time. He passes a hand over the data reader, dispelling the holograms.
CAPT. PIKE: Good afternoon, Mr. S’Pock.
S’POCK: Commodore Pike.
CAPT. PIKE: Not Cdre. Pike. Not yet. I’m still a captain ‘til week’s end.
Taking the data crystal from the reader, Pike drops it in a drawstring bag. Scooping other such crystals up from the desktop, he deposits them in the bag also.
S’POCK: Very well, Capt. Pike.
CAPT. PIKE: Ship’s business?
S’POCK: No, sir. The Enterprise is prepared for change of command.
CAPT. PIKE: Good.
Drawing the string of the bag tight, Pike then ties the bag shut and tosses it in a nearly empty suitcase.
CAPT. PIKE: Not much to show for eleven years, is it?
S’POCK: (cocks eyebrow) Sir?
CAPT. PIKE: Nevermind. I’m just feeling my age.
S’POCK: Yes, Captain. (beat) Congratulations, sir.
CAPT. PIKE: Congratulations?
S’POCK: Yes, sir. In regard to your promotion, your increased responsibilities.
CAPT. PIKE: Oh, right. (smiles humourlessly) Did you want to talk to me about something in particular, Mr. S’Pock?
S’POCK: Change of command offers little opportunity for conversation, Captain. I came to speak to you now … merely to wish you farewell.
CAPT. PIKE: Merely?
S’POCK: Yes. Words of farewell are perhaps not logical, based as they are in superstition, in wishes for good fortune, but … I have learned much from you, Captain.
CAPT. PIKE: (smiles) That’s high praise, Mr. S’Pock. Thank you.
S’POCK: Perhaps we will have the opportunity to work together again, sometime in the future.
CAPT. PIKE: Does that bother you, Mr. S’Pock?
S’POCK: What, Captain?
CAPT. PIKE: I never asked you if you wanted to be promoted off the Enterprise with me. I could have recommended that. If I had, you’d be on your way to being my executive officer on a starbase.
S’POCK: I am aware that this is often done. Capt. Kirk has recommended one of his senior officers for a position on the Enterprise. That is his privilege, as it is your privilege to choose your own executive staff.
CAPT. PIKE: I probably should have talked to you about it, but I made the choice for you. I was afraid that if I made you the offer, you might feel compelled to accept it, compelled to leave the Enterprise. Did I make a mistake?
S’POCK: (frowns) Sir?
CAPT. PIKE: You have a highly developed sense of responsibility, Mr. S’Pock. You don’t necessarily choose the path that’s best for you.
S’POCK: “Best” is a highly subjective term, Captain. Vulcans attempt to eliminate subjective terms from their decisions. The goal of a Vulcan with my background and training is to increase the store of knowledge available to sapient beings.
CAPT. PIKE: Maybe I didn’t make a mistake, after all.
Pike rises from his chair, putting him on equal stature with the half-Vulcan.
CAPT. PIKE: (cont’d) When people of my background and training say goodbye, they shake hands, but Vulcans….
S’POCK: I will shake your hand, Capt. Pike, if you wish it.
The captain and science officer then clasp hands for the first and final time.
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Post by Duragizer on Aug 16, 2018 0:06:03 GMT -5
EXT. SPACE — P1C-0072
On the far outskirts of the Alpha Sector lies P1C-0072. Tethered to a dim red dwarf, P1C-0072 is a small, rocky C-class planet. Desolate, airless, and geologically inactive, this is a world which, if it ever supported life, hasn’t done so in long eons. Orbiting this dead brown sphere, the only sign of active intelligence in the entire system, is Starbase 95, a large Federation space station which serves as a way station between the Alpha and Delta Sectors.
On the edge of the distant solar system, a small region of spacetime distorts as the Baton Rouge-class starship Saladin drops out of warp.
INT. SALADIN/BRIDGE
Seated in the command chair, baby blue eyes fixed ahead, is Cmdr. Grimm. A near-Human of large stature, with orange, craggy skin, he looks almost out of place in a Starfleet uniform.
CMDR. GRIMM: Standard approach, Mr. Kaasq. Viewer ahead.
KAASQ: Aye, sir.
EXT. SPACE — P1C-0072
The Saladin’s impulse engines flare to life; the starship continues its approach to Starbase 95 at near-light speed.
INT. SALADIN/BRIDGE
The turbolift door to the bridge opens and Capt. Kirk steps inside.
CMDR. GRIMM: (turns to Kirk) Captain on the bridge!
KIRK: At ease.
EXT. SPACE — STARBASE 95
Finally arriving at Starbase 95, the Saladin slips under the behemoth station’s massive shadow and approaches one of the four large doors into the docking bay within. The titanic bay door parts in the middle and slowly slides open, allowing the Baton Rouge-class starship entry.
INT. STARBASE 95/DOCKING BAY
Inside Starbase 95, the Saladin finds itself only one of countless dozens of starships docked within the vastness of the interior.
The Baton Rouge-class starship passes within range of the NCC-1701, better known as the USS Enterprise. A Constitution-class starship, it has the same saucer-and-twin-nacelles configuration utilized by most Starfleet capital ships. Unlike the other Federation ships seen thus far, the Enterprise wasn’t built to wage war or ferry passengers on short jaunts between systems; it is an exploratory vessel, designed and equipped to maintain a large crew in the wild frontiers of the galaxy for long stretches of time.
INT. SALADIN/BRIDGE
As the impressive sight of the Enterprise fills the viewscreen, Kirk is entranced, mouth falling agape in awe of the magnificent craft.
KIRK: Cmdr. Grimm.
CMDR. GRIMM: Yes, Captain?
KIRK: Have your comm officer open a channel to the Enterprise. Tell them I’d like to give Capt. Pike my regards.
Turning to the comm officer, the orange-skinned commander issues the order with a single gesture of his hand. Nodding, the comm officer follows through.
COMM OFFICER: The channel’s open, Captain, go ahead.
KIRK: Capt. Pike?
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
CAPT. PIKE: Pike here.
INT. SALADIN/BRIDGE
KIRK: Capt. Pike, this is Capt. Kirk aboard the Saladin.
CAPT. PIKE: (O.S.) What can I do for you, Captain?
KIRK: I know the official ceremony is a few days off yet …
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: (cont’d; O.S.) but I was wondering if you’d mind if I beamed aboard and took a look at her.
CAPT. PIKE: (smiles) Not at all, Captain. Come right ahead.
Rising from the command chair, Pike turns to LT. LEE KELSO, a thin, blond Human male who is currently seated behind the nav station.
CAPT. PIKE: You have the conn, Kelso. I’ll be escorting your new captain around, if you need me.
KELSO: Yes, sir.
Pike turns and leaves the bridge. Once he has disappeared in the turbolift, Kelso turns to the man beside him at the tactical station, a sudden frown creasing his brow.
KELSO: (irate) The nerve of that Kirk. Can’t even wait for Pike to step down to get his hands on his ship! I call that low, Sulu!
Of approximately the same height and build as Kelso, LT. HIKARU SULU is a dark-haired, bronze-skinned man of Asian ethnicity.
SULU: You shouldn’t talk about our new commanding officer that way, Lee — even if he deserves it.
INT. SALADIN/BRIDGE
Kirk turns to leave the bridge. As he does so, Grimm rises from his chair to stop him.
CMDR. GRIMM: Captain, you can’t leave like this — not in the middle of docking procedures! As commander of this ship, I’m responsible. What if —?
KIRK: (opens turbolift door) Mr. Grimm.
CMDR. GRIMM: Yes?
KIRK: How long have you had command of this ship?
CMDR. GRIMM: Almost a year — twelve months.
KIRK: (steps into turbolift; grins wryily) Just consider this a test of your command capabilities.
CMDR. GRIMM: But sir, I —
KIRK: (to turbolift computer) Transporter room.
The turbolift door closes, ferrying the captain away, leaving the commander in a flustered state.
INT. ENTERPRISE/TRANSPORTER ROOM
Having arrived at the transporter room, Pike stands behind the transporter controls. Standing beside the captain, eyes and hands ready at the controls, is LT. CMDR. MONTGOMERY SCOTT, a lean man with short black hair and a missing middle finger on his right hand.
SCOTT: They’re energizin’, captain.
A tube of blue energy forms within the transporter; Capt. Kirk’s form quickly materializes within it.
SCOTT: (cont’d) Here he comes.
Once the process is complete, the transporter shuts down, leaving Kirk there on the pad.
KIRK: Permission to come aboard, Captain?
CAPT. PIKE: Granted, Captain.
Approaching Kirk as the younger man steps down from the transporter pad, Pike offers his hand in greeting. Accepting the hand, Kirk gives it a firm shake.
KIRK: It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, sir.
CAPT. PIKE: No need for formalities, Jim. Call me Chris. (looks to Scott) There’s a gentleman over here you should get to know….
Pike directs Kirk to the lieutenant commander. The two shake hands.
SCOTT: Lt. Cmdr. Montgomery Scott, sir, chief engineer. Call me Scotty.
KIRK: (smiles) We have quite a lot in common, Mr. Scott. I was assistant engineer on the Farragut; that should make our working together that much easier.
SCOTT: (perturbed) Er … that it should, sir.
With the greetings out of the way, Pike begins the tour of the ship. Once the two captains have left the transporter room, Lt. Cmdr. Scott frowns.
SCOTT: Och! That’s all Ah need — some wet-behind-the-ears rookie tellin’ me muh job!
INT. ENTERPRISE/CARGO BAY
Standing on a walkway, Pike and Kirk look down at the ground level of the cargo bay. Below them, S’Pock and a lizard-like Saurian — Petty Officer Aennik — work together arranging cargo.
CAPT. PIKE: You’ll want to meet my first officer, Cmdr. S’Pock. That’s him down there.
KIRK: I don't recognize his species.
CAPT. PIKE: He's Vulcan.
KIRK: Vulcan? (squints)
CAPT. PIKE: Not full Vulcan. He’s Human on his mother’s side.
KIRK: Must be some woman who’d settle down with a green-blooded Vulcan male. (beat) I thought your first officer was a Human — Cmdr. Robbins?
CAPT. PIKE: (smiles wistfully) Eureigh Robbins was my number one. She was promoted and assigned her own command two years ago.
KIRK: Ah.
Down below, S’Pock and Aennik continue their duties.
S’POCK: (cont’d) Store those drugs in the stasis field. The machine parts aren’t perishable.
PO. AENNIK: I have already had that done, sir. (checks PADD) The resulting rearrangement saves 112.4 cubic millimetres.
Having come down from the walkway, Kirk and Pike approach S’Pock and Aennik.
S’POCK: Excellent work, Petty Officer. You — (takes notice of new arrivals) Yes, Captain?
CAPT. PIKE: Sorry to interrupt, Mr. S’Pock, but I wanted you to meet the man who’ll be taking over the centre seat. This is Capt. Kirk.
S’POCK: (to Kirk) Greetings, Captain. Your record is quite impressive.
KIRK: Thank you, Mr. S’Pock. You know, I was first officer on the El Dorado, so we have a lot in —
As this conversation is occurring, the cable of a mechanical winch holding a cargo container aloft — weakened and overstretched — begins to snap. PO. Aennik immediately takes notice of the cable and the impending danger.
PO. AENNIK: (alarmed) Look out!
Leaping forward, the Saurian pushes Kirk, Pike, and S’Pock out of the way as the cable completely gives and sends the container crashing to the deck. Unfortunately for Aennik, she isn’t able to clear herself from the path of the descending container in time; it slams down on her lower body with crushing force, pulverizing everything from the hips down. The other three officers move in and crouch down around her as she begins squirming and CRYING in utter agony.
CAPT. PIKE: (activates comcorder) Pike to sick bay! Piper, it’s an emergency!
PIPER: (O.S.) On my way, Captain!
KIRK: (anxious) She’s in agony! Isn’t there anything we can do?
S’POCK: I am attempting that now, Captain.
The calm and collected half-Vulcan gently lays his left hand upon Aennik's face.
S’POCK: Aennik, your thoughts are my thoughts. We feel no pain….
INT. ENTERPRISE/SICK BAY
Sometime later, Sgt. Aennik lies in a bed. Emergency surgery has already been performed on her broken body; she is in stable condition, in a state of drug-induced unconsciousness. Standing a ways from her bed are Kirk, Pike, and DOCTOR MARK PIPER. A potbellied man with brown hair turned mostly gray, Piper is a man in late middle age who has all the appearance of a person who is carrying the entire weight of the galaxy on his shoulders.
CAPT. PIKE: How is she, Doctor?
PIPER: She’ll pull through, but her legs and hips were crushed. She may walk again, after reconstructive surgery…. (angry) The fact of the matter is her career is over.
CAPT. PIKE: She would have died without you, Doctor — don’t forget that.
PIPER: I realize that, Captain. (sighs) I’m just tired.
CAPT. PIKE: Kirk and I are going to my cabin for a drink. Care to join us?
PIPER: No thank you. I think I’ll retire to my quarters.
INT. ENTERPRISE/PIKE’S CABIN
Entering his quarters, Capt. Pike gestures for Kirk to take a seat. As the younger captain does so, Pike goes to his desk. Opening a drawer, he pulls out two short glasses and one long wine bottle.
KIRK: I got the sense there was more to the good Dr. Piper's demeanour than weariness. Have you any idea what’s eating him?
CAPT. PIKE: (uncorks bottle) My chief medical officer, Philip Boyce, died on an away mission two months ago. Mark was promoted to fill his station. (beat) He was weeks away from retirement; he doesn’t want to be here.
KIRK: Surely he can retire with your tenure at an end?
CAPT. PIKE: That was the plan, but there was a mix-up; the doctor’s been assigned a full five years of active duty aboard-ship. (beat) He’s made his appeal, and Starfleet Command’s promised to resolve the matter as soon as possible, but you know bureaucrats; they enjoy leaving their wheels spinning in the mud.
Pike pours some of the bottle's burgundy contents into the pair of glasses. Recorking the bottle, he picks the two glasses up and steps over to Kirk, handing one of them to the captain.
KIRK: (takes sip) What is this? It’s incredible.
CAPT. PIKE: Château Picard, vintage 1226.
KIRK: (takes another sip) I have an old friend who’s a doctor — Leonard McCoy. I would've recommended him for CMO, but he’s currently stationed at Betelgeuse. Even at warp 6, it’d take him a year to get out here.
CAPT. PIKE: (takes seat) Make that recommendation. Piper’s situation should be resolved in a year; it’d be nice to have a qualified medical officer you know you can trust on hand to take his place.
KIRK: Chris, if you don’t mind my asking … how can you give all this up? (gestures to surroundings) How can you step down and take a desk job as “fleet captain”? A command like this is everything I’ve ever wanted. How —?
CAPT. PIKE: Jim, I’m alike Piper in many ways. We’ve both been out here too long; seen too much; missed out on so much more. (beat) When I first received command of the Enterprise, I felt like the gods themselves had blessed me with the greatest gift any being could receive. Those first years were the best of my life. But time drew on, and that gift became more of a curse, my command of the Enterprise a strenuous, demanding marriage with diminishing returns. (beat) I want out of this marriage, Jim. I want away from her and solid earth under me again. I want to settle down with a woman and raise a family before it’s too late for me to do either.
A moment of silence passes between the two men.
KIRK: (raises glass) A toast, then, Chris. May we both find whatever it is we’re looking for.
CAPT. PIKE: Amen.
They clink glasses.
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Post by Duragizer on Aug 17, 2018 4:29:02 GMT -5
EXT. SPACE — WRIGLEY’S PLEASURE PLANET
A few light-years from Starbase 95, we find Wrigley’s Pleasure Planet.
An egg-shaped body approximately the same size as Rhode Island, Wrigley’s Pleasure Planet isn’t a true planet; it is a captured asteroid which has been hollowed out and equipped with antigravity generators and weather control systems, allowing a temperate, life-sustaining environment to exist on its surface in spite of its small size.
INT. MORNING STARS RESORT/MITCHELL’S SUITE/BEDROOM — DAY
Golden sunlight filters in through the tall, wraparound windows, filling the spacious room and falling upon the queen-sized bed currently occupied by the sleeping LT. CMDR. GARY MITCHELL.
Beside Mitchell’s bed stands a short, round table, upon which rests a small holoprojector. The holoprojector begins CHIRPING.
MITCHELL: (frowns in sleep) Mrffff…?
Turning over away from the table, he lifts his sheets over his head and bunches them against his ears in a bid to muffle the sound. When this proves inadequate, he angrily slaps the projector, hoping to make contact with the button that’ll turn the device off. Instead, a short holographic projection of himself — standing tall in a blue-and-white T-shirt and dark gray Bermuda shorts — flickers to life.
MITCHELL’S HOLOGRAM: Hi there, Gary. This is you, yourself, approximately sixteen hours ago, telling you to wake up!
Hearing his own voice yelling at him, Gary bolts upright in bed, fully awake.
MITCHELL’S HOLOGRAM: (cont’d) Knowing you were going to spend your last hours of freedom partying like it’s 1399, I figured you’d be too swept up in your hangover to remember you’re supposed to leave early today for Starbase 95.
MITCHELL: (groggy) Oh, God — what time is it?
As Mitchell begins fumbling about in search of his chronometre, the hologram replies.
MITCHELL’S HOLOGRAM: (cont’d) Not to worry, Gary. I programmed this message to play three hours before the last shuttle leaves for the starbase. That leaves you plenty of time to get fed, showered, dressed, packed, and to the spaceport.
MITCHELL: I really think of everything, don’t I?
MITCHELL’S HOLOGRAM: James chose you to be his first officer. You wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would you?
MITCHELL: (turns off holoprojector) No, you wouldn’t.
As Mitchell gets ready to leave his bed, a near-Human woman with orange skin, a head of large, feathery white hair, and a food tray between her hands enters the bedroom. Dressed solely in a purple nightshirt, she is exotically beautiful.
ORANGE LADYFRIEND: (smiles) Morning, Gar, honey. (tilts tray left-&-right) I brought you a little something.
MITCHELL: (grins) Breakfast in bed. My favourite.
INT. STARBASE 95/DOCKING BAY
Having entered the docking bay, the Vrekasht — an Ericsson-class warp shuttle — approaches the Enterprise.
INT. VREKASHT/COCKPIT
Inside the spacious cockpit of the shuttle sit only two individuals: the pilot — a black-and-silver furred Caitian male — and Nyota Uhura herself. Having traded her civilian garb in, she now wears her Starfleet uniform.
CAITIAN PILOT: (turns to Uhura) The Enterprise is ready to receive you. Are you ready to beam over, Lieutenant?
UHURA: I’m ready.
CAITIAN PILOT: Step onto the pad.
Nodding, Uhura picks up her suitcase and crosses over to the transporter pad installed at the rear of the cockpit.
CAITIAN PILOT: (activates transporter) Energizing.
ENTERPRISE/TRANSPORTER ROOM
Once the transportation is finalized, Uhura finds herself in the Enterprise’s transporter room. Manning the controls is SUB-LIEUTENANT JOHN THOMAS KYLE, a man with blond hair, blue eyes, and sharp features, dressed in a beige jumpsuit. Leaving the transporter controls, Kyle approaches Uhura as she steps down from the pad.
KYLE: (smiles) Welcome aboard the Enterprise (offers hand) So, you’re the new comm officer? I’m John — John Kyle.
UHURA: (shakes hand) Nyota Uhura. (looks about room) So, this is the Enterprise.
KYLE: This is the old girl, alright.
UHURA: How long have you been assigned here, John?
KYLE: I’m new to the crew. Arrived here from the P2M-0057 colony just over a week ago.
UHURA: Have you had any trouble fitting in?
KYLE: Nope. Most everyone here’s welcoming and friendly — except Mr. S’Pock, but he’s a Vulcan, so that’s to be expected of him. (beat) A lady such as yourself shouldn’t have any trouble making this ship home away from home.
UHURA: (half-smiles) From your lips to God’s ears, Mr. Kyle.
INT. MANSION/DEN — EVENING
In the large, spacious, fine-furnished den of a luxurious mansion, Kirk sits in an ornate wood chair. Across from him, MALCOLM MCDOWELL sits in a leather upholstered armchair before a crackling fireplace. He drinks a dry martini through a crazy straw while ALANIS MORISSETTE stands over him. Dressed in a bright red bikini top and bottom, her lips slathered in dark violet lipstick and her hair styled in a big, curly ‘80s style, she holds Malcolm’s eyes open with a pair of robotic hands while she deposits eye drops with her organic ones.
Without warning, the door behind them is kicked open with a violent CRASH. Spinning 'round, Alanis’ eyes go wide as CHRISTOPHER LAMBERT — dressed in DayGlo coveralls and sporting a long mullet — storms in, a pair of heavy disruptor rifles in both hands.
CHRISTOPHER LAMBERT: (grins) Do you want to live forever?
Opening fire, Lambert lays waste to the den, McDowell, and Alanis, LAUGHING maniacally.
A BUZZ sounds through the air, distracting Kirk from the bloodbath.
KIRK: Stop program.
INT. SALADIN/KIRK'S CABIN
Kirk's unusual surroundings dissipate, revealing him to be in his cabin aboard the Saladin, seated at a VR player.
KIRK: (removes VR interface) Come.
The door slides open. Turning to the open doorway, Kirk finds Gary Mitchell standing there, wearing his Starfleet uniform and a crap-eating grin.
MITCHELL: One first officer, reporting as ordered.
KIRK: (shocked) Gary? (ecstatic) Gary! (beat) You’re a sight for sore eyes, you old space dog!
MITCHELL: You’re uglier than ever, Jimmy-Boy!
Mitchell enters the room and the two men greet each other vigorously, happy to see one another for the first time in several months.
MITCHELL: I hear Starfleet’s given you the Enterprise. Good thing you’ve got me to keep you out of trouble.
KIRK: That was just a ruse to lure you here. Actually, they want me to keep an eye on you.
MITCHELL: (claps Kirk on back) Listen, we’ve got time before the change-of-command ceremony, right?
KIRK: (checks chronometre) 2.06 hours.
MITCHELL: Good. I’ll buy you a lunch and a drink, to celebrate. How’s that sound?
KIRK: (shrugs) Sounds good to me.
INT. STARBASE 95/BAR
Kirk and Mitchell sit at a table next to viewport which looks out onto the barren orb of P1C-0072.
MITCHELL: (looking at planet) What a view. (turns to Kirk) Couldn’t they have parked this station over a comelier planet?
Kirk merely shrugs. Mitchell picks up a menu and begins reading it over.
MITCHELL: Ah, this looks good: “Bolian Zombie”.
KIRK: (frowns) Isn’t that stuff at least 130 proof?
MITCHELL: (grins) Thank modern medicine for ocular implants.
Mitchell enters the order into a small keypad set in the table before him. An Andorian waitress saunters over to their table moments later, a pair of Bolian Zombies balanced on a tray in her hands. After the drinks are placed on the table and the waitress leaves, Kirk just sits there, looking at the tall glass before him. Layers of silver liquor — lightest shades on the top, darkest on the bottom — fill the glass, a straw and some blue fruit protruding from the top.
MITCHELL: (sucks on straw) Ahh, that’s nice. Give yours a taste, James.
Picking out the bit of fruit and eating it, Kirk picks the glass up and puts the rim to his lips. Before he can take a sip, Mitchell takes the captain’s wrist and forces it back down.
MITCHELL: (irate) Use the straw! Breaking the layers is an insult to the bartender!
KIRK: Gary, there is no bartender. The waitress synthesized these drinks for us.
MITCHELL: The principle’s the same. It came in layers, it has to be drunk in layers.
KIRK: Alright, if that will make you happy.
Putting the straw to his lips, Kirk drains the bottom layer of his drink. Before he can even finish swallowing, he’s COUGHING violently, eyes flowing hot with tears.
MITCHELL: (drinks two layers from glass) As you know, I only have a taster’s tolerance for alcohol, but this stuff’s pretty enjoyable. What do you think of it?
Having gained some semblance of control over his coughing fit, Kirk hurriedly punches another order into his own keypad.
KIRK: (hoarse) “Enjoyable” doesn’t even begin to describe it!
As the Andorian waitress returns to their table, Kirk is quick to spring up and snatch the tall glass of ice water from her tray, greedily downing the cold liquid in three large swallows.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
Attired in a green dress uniform, S’Pock makes his way across the empty bridge to the command chair. Pushing an armrest button, he activates the intercom, opening a transmission to all regions of the starship.
S’POCK: This is Lt. Cmdr. S’Pock. May I have the attention of all crewmembers. (beat) The change-of-command ceremony will take place on the recreation deck in thirty minutes precisely. Dress is formal. Your presence is expected.
With the message given, S’Pock cuts the transmission.
INT. STARBASE 95/BAR
A little over two hours have passed since Kirk and Mitchell ordered their first Bolian Zombies. While the captain is still nursing that first drink, the lieutenant commander — inebriated to the max — is currently on his fourth.
MITCHELL: (slurring) A toast to Capt. Kirk! (beat) I always said you’d make admiral, or prison, before thirty-three!
KIRK: I’m thirty-two, Gary. I’d have to work at it to accomplish either in your time limit.
MITCHELL: Ah, but you’re a captain, and I’m only a lowly lieutenant commander. You’ve travelled fast and far.
KIRK: (smirks) Is that why you’re trying to make me drunk, Gary?
MITCHELL: (frowns) What? No! You deserve your prizes, and I deserve what I’ve won ... which isn’t bad, come to think of it, except perhaps compared to you. (laughs) No, oh, no…. I just thought, when I saw you, how funny Rhabé was on the day he got his commission….
Mitchell then collapses across the table, spilling the rest of their drinks in the process, caught in a fit of GIGGLES. As the other clientele in the bar gaze their way, Kirk blushes with embarrassment.
KIRK: Gary? Come on, Gary, time to go.
On a whim, Kirk takes a look at his chrono. Realizing what time it is, he leaps up from his seat in shock.
KIRK: (shakes Mitchell) Gary!
MITCHELL: Mrffff….
Jamming his shoulder under one of Mitchell’s arms, he heaves the semi-conscious commander up to his feet.
MITCHELL: (grinning & drooling) Are we going to another party?
KIRK: We’re going back to your room.
With Mitchell in tow, Kirk leaves their table. As he passes the front counter, the Andorian waitress stops him with a raised hand.
ANDORIAN WAITRESS: (slides credit chip reader across counter) Have to pay for your drinks, babe.
Frowning and sighing in indignation, Kirk reaches into his jacket and feels around for his credit chip. Finding it, he pulls it out, slips it into the reader, enters his personal code, and waits for the transfer to go through. Once the transfer of funds is made, he retrieves his chip.
ANDORIAN WAITRESS: (smiles) Stop by again anytime, and don’t forget to bring your friend along.
Grumbling, Kirk half-drags, half-carries Mitchell from the bar.
INT. STARBASE 95/HABITAT SECTION/CORRIDOR
With Mitchell in tow, Kirk heads toward Mitchell’s room. Mitchell, still as drunk as ever, is a dead weight in the captain's arms.
KIRK: Come on, Gary! If you don’t hurry, I’m going to be late! (beat) Damn your so-called sense of humour, anyway.
MITCHELL: (chuckles) You’ll thank me, James.
KIRK: Thank you‽ For trying to get me drunk before change of command‽
MITCHELL: Some ceremonies are better endured with the use of a crutch.
KIRK: A crutch is what I’m going to need after I get you back to your room. (beat) Can’t you walk by yourself?
Pulling himself from Kirk, Mitchell manages to keep himself unsteadily upright.
MITCHELL: Walk by myself? Of course.
Mitchell then topples forward. Kirk manages to catch him just in time.
MITCHELL: See? I’m quite capable of navigating on my own. Go on ahead to your ceremony.
KIRK: I couldn’t possibly.
INT. STARBASE 95/HABITAT SECTION/MITCHELL’S QUARTERS
Opening the door into Mitchell’s rented quarters, Kirk hauls the intoxicated first officer inside, then deposits him in the nearest available sofa.
MITCHELL: There’s a bottle of Saurian brandy in the kitchen cupboard. Let’s have a toast to your new mission.
KIRK: Neither of us need any brandy, Saurian or otherwise.
As Kirk turns to leave, Mitchell tries pushing himself up.
MITCHELL: I’m your first officer … I’ve gotta come with you. Can’t miss … your coronation.
KIRK: As your commanding officer, I excuse you of any duty you have in attending the change-of-command ceremony.
MITCHELL: Nonsense. Just give me a minute to —
Collapsing on his face, the lieutenant commander begins SNORING.
KIRK: (smiles) Sleep well, Gary.
The captain departs.
INT. ACCESS TUNNEL
Having detoured briefly to the Saladin to change into his green dress uniform, Kirk has now arrived at the access tunnel into the USS Enterprise. A countless number of VIPs — military officers; civilian dignitaries; reporters from every news medium in the Federation — stand in the path before Kirk. Entering the morass of bodies Human, near-Human, and trans-animal, Kirk pushes himself through, fighting to get to the head of the crowd. As Kirk makes his progress, he sees the heads of Cdre. Pike and ADMIRAL KIMITAKE NOGUCHI over the crowd. The two officers are deep in concentration and do not notice the captain.
As Kirk prepares to pass the final line of onlookers to the admiral and commodore, he is stopped by the glimpse of two individuals — dressed in clothing plainer than those worn by the others in the access tunnel — out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he sees them clearly.
KIRK: (surprised) Mom! Sam!
There stands Kirk’s mother and older brother, WINONA and GEORGE SAMUEL KIRK. A short woman in late middle age, Winona is still pretty for her age. Sam, minus his mustache and slightly receded hairline, is almost an exact twin of his younger brother. Both smile broadly at the sight of James R. Kirk standing before them.
KIRK: What are you doing here? When did you get here? How long can you stay?
WINONA KIRK: We came to see you take command of the Enterprise, of course.
SAM KIRK: But if you don’t hurry up, they’re going to auction it off to the highest bidder.
Glancing at Noguchi and Pike, Kirk sees they have finally caught notice of his presence. They wear expressions of patient amusement on their faces, understanding the joy of seeing one’s loved ones after a long separation overwhelms mere protocol. Turning back to Sam and Winona, he hugs her and claps him on the back, then leaves them to join Pike and Noguchi. Together, the three officers head into the body of the USS Enterprise.
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Post by Duragizer on Aug 17, 2018 21:07:30 GMT -5
INT. ENTERPRISE/RECREATION DECK
The recreation deck has been turned into a reception hall. All the starship’s officers have gathered here. A podium and lectern stood on the stage at one end; tables along one wall held trays of food, racks of champagne bottles, and rows of sparkling glasses.
Lieutenants Sulu and Kelso are helping themselves to a platter of hor d’oeuvres when they catch sight of Uhura.
KELSO: Hey, Sulu, who’s the lady?
SULU: That’s Lt. Uhura, our new communications officer.
KELSO: (cocks eyebrow) No kidding? Hope she’s only married to the service.
Elsewhere, we come to a woman dressed in a distinctive brown dress uniform. This is MAJOR HADIA RUAN, commander of the Enterprise’s MACO detachment. By appearances, she is a Human or near-Human woman, in her thirties, with long black hair pinned back in a utilitarian style, bronze skin, and intense hazel eyes. Though a striking beauty, there is an underlying hardness to her features which shouts “WATCH YOURSELF”.
Ruan is staring into her glass of champagne with apparent contempt when Scotty sidles up to her.
SCOTT: Penny for yer thoughts?
RUAN: If I ever meet the insect who passed the act prohibiting real alcohol from sanctioned Starfleet events, I’ll drown it in a vat of this synthetic swill.
Taking care not to be noticed, Scott reaches into his jacket and pulls out a copper flask. Unscrewing the cap, he carefully lifts it over the rim of Ruan’s glass and pours some of the rich brown contents into it.
RUAN: (grins) Why, Commander — is that what I think it is?
SCOTT: (taps nose) Ye can return th’ favour later, Major.
Noguchi, Pike, and Kirk then arrive, drawing the attention of all present.
SCOTT: Looks like th’ ceremony’s about t’ start.
INT. ENTERPRISE/RECREATION DECK — MONTAGE
Over the next hour, speeches from the admiral, commodore, and captain are made.
CUT TO
The ceremony as it draws to a close.
Pike, holding a sabre sheathed in an ornate gold scabbard, stands before Adm. Noguchi on the stage.
ADM. NOGUCHI: (cont’d) And have you, Cdre. Christopher Pike, faithfully executed your duties as a captain of Starfleet?
CDRE. PIKE (CAPT. PIKE): To the best of my abilities, admiral, I have strengthened interstellar peace, I have kept the Prime Directive, I have obeyed my oath.
Taking the sabre, Pike presents it to the admiral.
CDRE. PIKE: (cont’d) I return to you this sword, a token of the ship on which I served.
Noguchi accepts the sword and Pike takes a step back. The admiral then faces Kirk.
ADM. NOGUCHI: Capt. Kirk, stand forward.
The captain steps forward.
ADM. NOGUCHI: Let all present know your name and rank.
KIRK: Capt. James Regis Kirk.
ADM. NOGUCHI: Capt. Kirk, do you swear to maintain interstellar peace, to uphold the Prime Directive, to obey your oath to captaincy?
KIRK: I … do, sir.
ADM. NOGUCHI: (presents sabre to Kirk) Then receive this symbol of your new office, captain of the Enterprise!
Kirk accepts the sword and the crowd breaks out in applause.
SULU: So, what do you think, Kelso? Is Kirk the man to take Capt. Pike’s place?
KELSO: Ask me again in five years.
SCOTT: Aye!
FADE TO
The recreation deck sometime later.
As the after-ceremony celebrations continue, Kirk, Pike, Noguchi, and Winona and Sam Kirk stand off to the side away from prying eyes and ears.
CDRE. PIKE: Captain, the starship Enterprise is yours. (shakes Kirk’s hand) I know you’ll find her and her crew as faithful as I did.
KIRK: (smiles) Thank you, Commodore.
With a slight smile, Cdre. Christopher Pike turns and leaves, never once looking back.
SAM KIRK: Hey, Jim — that was a great speech you made.
WINONA KIRK: (smiles) I agree completely.
KIRK: Thanks, Sam — Mom.
Adm. Noguchi turns to Winona.
ADM. NOGUCHI: Winona, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Especially now.
WINONA KIRK: It’s been a while, Kimitake, hasn’t it?
ADM. NOGUCHI: Yes, a long time. Since before ... Well, George would have been very proud, I think.
WINONA KIRK: Yes, he would.
ADM. NOGUCHI: (offers Winona arm) We mustn’t offend the chefs by ignoring their day’s work. I understand they’ve created quite the spread for us. I’m told the chocolate cake is particularly delectable. (beat) Winona?
WINONA KIRK: (takes Noguchi’s arm in hers) Thank you, Kimi.
The older folks depart arm-in-arm, leaving the two Kirk brothers alone.
KIRK: (seizes Sam by shoulders) My lord, I’m glad to see you. When did you get in? Where’s Aurelan? How’s my nephew? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?
SAM KIRK: We just arrived. There’s a xenobiology conference, so we got our ways paid. We weren’t certain we’d arrive in time for the ceremony. We figured if we did, we’d surprise you. (beat) Peter’s fine — he’s learning geometry. Aurelan … she sends her love, but she’s in the middle of an experiment and can’t leave it.
KIRK: You look great, Sam. Everything’s going well?
SAM KIRK: (grins) Never better.
Leading Jim over to a table, Sam picks up a pair of champagne glasses.
SAM KIRK: (hands glass to Jim) To my little brother and his ship.
Raising their glasses in a toast, they down the contents.
SAM KIRK: How’s Mitch doing, anyway? Isn’t he supposed to be here?
KIRK: (smiles wryly) He had a bad run-in with pink pachyderms from Bolarus IX. He’s sleeping it off.
SAM KIRK: Ah. (beat) Jim, Mom’s going back to Earth. P3M-0107’s done her good, and she loves being a grandmother — I never saw her enjoy anything as much as she enjoys spoiling Peter. You ought to —
Noticing Jim’s suddenly distant expression, he clams up.
SAM KIRK: (cont’d) You ought to visit us and see how you like being an uncle. (beat) Anyway, Mom and Aurelan and I wrote a paper — it’s coming out in Jox. She wants to follow up on it on Earth, in Iowa, back on the homestead.
KIRK: It’s a three-year trip back to Earth.
SAM KIRK: (sighs) As they say: Warp travel’s not the best way to travel faster than the speed of light —
KIRK: It’s just the only way.
Sam heads over to the table with the chocolate cake. Slicing himself a piece, he takes a bite.
SAM KIRK: (mouth full) Jim, aren’t you going to enjoy your own party? Kimitake was right — the chocolate cake is terrific.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
On board the bridge, the day watch crew — Lt. Cmdr. Gary Mitchell; Lt. Cmdr. S’Pock; Lt. Nyota Uhura; Lt. Hikaru Sulu; and Lt. Lee Kelso — are all present. Only Capt. James Kirk is absent.
As we look upon S’Pock and Mitchell, we notice a change in their uniforms. S’Pock, no longer the Enterprise’s first officer, now wears a blue undershirt of the sciences division; Mitchell has replaced his beige undershirt with one of command green.
S’POCK: All stations report ready, Mr. Mitchell.
Mitchell, seated at the helm, winces, still suffering the aftereffects from his drinking binge the night before.
MITCHELL: Thank you, Mr. S’Pock. (faces empty command chair) All we need now is someone in the centre seat.
As soon as those words are spoken, the bridge turbolift discharges James R. Kirk.
MITCHELL: Captain on the bridge!
Everyone on the bridge snaps to attention at Mitchell’s announcement.
KIRK: At ease.
As the bridge crew relaxes, Kirk walks up to the command chair and sits down in it — tenderly, lovingly.
KIRK: Status report, Mr. Mitchell?
MITCHELL: All stations ready, Captain.
KIRK: Detach all moorings. Prepare to leave Starbase 95.
INT. STARBASE 95/DOCKING BAY
Detaching from its mooring, the Enterprise backs away then turns on its axis until it’s facing the opposite direction. Impulse engines engaging, the craft makes its run for the exit.
EXT. SPACE — STARBASE 95
The large bay door opens, allowing the Enterprise out to the airless splendour of free, star-studded space.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KELSO: We have cleared Starbase 95, sir.
KIRK: Viewer on aft. Let’s have one last look at the starbase….
An image of Starbase 95 appears on the viewscreen.
KIRK: (cont’d) It’ll be the last time we see it for five years.
Kirk reaches for a button on an armrest; pressing it, he activates the recorder.
KIRK: Captain’s log, SD 1312.16. Capt. James R. Kirk in command. (beat) With all personnel aboard, we have left Starbase 95 and are preparing to leave system S1K-28313. Words are insufficient to express what this moment means to me. I’ve had a dream for every day of my life since I was fourteen, and I’ve finally realized that dream: to sit in the command chair of the Enterprise, as her captain, taking her out into the wild, untamed regions of the galaxy.
EXT. SPACE — P1C-0072
With the Enterprise travelling at full impulse, Starbase 95 and P1C-0072 recede until they all but vanish in the distance.
KIRK: (O.S.) For the next five years, my crew and I’ll be patrolling the Delta Sector border, far from the heart of our civilization. I don’t know what those years hold in store for us, but I’m all too eagre to find out.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: Mr. Mitchell, ahead warp factor 3.
Mitchell engages the warp drive. On the viewscreen, the galaxy's stars disappear, replaced with perfect blackness as the ship is accelerated to twenty-seven times the speed of light.
EXT. SPACE
The Enterprise appears to scrunch up as spacetime is contorted around it. It is then catapulted out of the conventional universe, into the enigmatic depths of warp space.
EXT. SPACE — STARBASE 104
Tethered to a dim white dwarf is Starbase 104, a K-class space station.
INT. STARBASE 104/OPERATIONS CENTRE
Under the great big dome which tops Starbase 104 lies the station’s ops centre. Seated at the centre of ops, his thick legs propped up on his desk and large hands behind his head, is CAPT. QULOOB. While not quite asleep, the Tellarite captain keeps his eyes closed to save his eyes the strain of looking at nothing worth the effort.
Ops’ turbolift door slides open, allowing a Human woman out. Dressed in operations beige, her long blond hair styled high atop her head and her shapely legs evident even through her black trousers, is the stunningly sexy, blue-eyed YEOMAN JANICE RAND. Approaching the captain’s desk, she takes the large PADD held under her arm out and hands it to the Tellarite.
RAND: Here are those stats you wanted, Captain.
CAPT. QULOOB: (opens eyes) Oh, yes. (accepts PADD) Thank you, Yeoman.
Looking the data on the PADD over, he takes a gander at the young Human woman.
CAPT. QULOOB: You look peaked, Janice. Did you sleep at all last night?
RAND: (rubs bridge of nose) Not really, sir.
CAPT. QULOOB: Have you been in to see Dr. Olié? Perhaps he can prescribe something for your insomnia.
RAND: I have an appointment to see him Eighthday.
CAPT. QULOOB: I think you should call it a night, Janice. Retire to your quarters; try to get some rest.
RAND: Is that an order, Captain?
CAPT. QULOOB: Do I have to make it one?
RAND: (smiles thinly) No.
CAPT. (returns attention to PADD) Goodnight, Yeoman.
RAND: ‘Night, Captain.
Turning on her heel, Janice prepares to leave the captain to himself.
BETAZOID SCIENCE OFFICER: Captain!
CAPT. QULOOB: (frowns) What is it?
BETAZOID SCIENCE OFFICER: Sensors detect three large vessels on approach.
CAPT. QULOOB: No one’s scheduled to arrive for another six hours. Can you identify them?
BETAZOID SCIENCE OFFICER: (shakes head) No, sir. Their subspace markers have been disengaged.
CAPT. QULOOB: (to comm officer) Open hailing frequencies.
COMM OFFICER: (opens hailing frequencies) They’re refusing to respond.
EXT. SPACE — STARBASE 104
With bursts of disrupted spacetime, three starships emerge into normal space. These three ships are long-necked K’t’inga-class battle cruisers, warships of the dread Klingon Empire.
INT. STARBASE 104/OPERATIONS CENTRE
BETAZOID SCIENCE OFFICER: (alarmed) Three D7 cruisers — dead ahead of us!
CAPT. QULOOB: Quick! Throw up deflectors before —!
The forward-facing K’t’inga powers up its disruptor banks and opens fire. Deflector shields spring up around the starbase, but a split-second too late; the sickly green energy beam scores a direct hit.
INT. STARBASE 104/OPERATIONS CENTRE
A tremor reverberates through the starbase. The onboard lighting begins flickering erratically.
BETAZOID SCIENCE OFFICER: Reactor's received severe damage, Captain!
CAPT. QULOOB: Can we maintain shields?
The science officer enters commands into his console. The lights go completely out.
BETAZOID SCIENCE OFFICER: I’ve diverted all power from non-essential systems, but —
CAPT. QULOOB: (interrupts) Bring our phasers online.
BETAZOID SCIENCE OFFICER: I can’t do that without dropping shields first.
EXT. SPACE — STARBASE 104
All three Klingon battle cruisers power up their disruptors and open fire. Devastating green beams wash over the starbase’s weakened shields, weakening them further. The shields soon wink out altogether, leaving the station completely vulnerable to the Klingon onslaught.
INT. STARBASE 104/OPERATIONS CENTRE
BETAZOID SCIENCE OFFICER: Captain, our shields are down.
CAPT. QULOOB: (angry) By the goddess’ bulge, where are our phasers‽
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Post by Duragizer on Aug 18, 2018 18:59:12 GMT -5
EXT. WARP SPACE — ENTERPRISE
The Enterprise continues travelling through warp space, a centralized white glow burning ahead of the starship.
KIRK: (V.O.) Captain’s log, SD 1312.21. (beat) Five days have passed since we departed Starbase 95, and we are on a delivery run to Starbase 104, our cargo bay laden with supplies. (beat) There’s a day left in-transit before we reach the starbase, so I’ve decided to kill some time exploring my new ship….
INT. ENTERPRISE/MAIN ENGINEERING
Entering main engineering, the captain finds this section of the ship abustle with activity. Various crewmen in engineering suits make their way to-and-fro about their duties, working hard to keep the warp drive and associated systems in top operating condition. Nodding with approval, the captain finds his way to Mr. Scott.
SCOTT: (notices Kirk) Er … Capt. Kirk.
KIRK: I thought I’d get acquainted with the ship.
Walking around Scotty, Kirk continues scrutinizing the systems and equipment.
KIRK: I’m very impressed, Mr. Scott.
SCOTT: (hopeful) Then ye’ll want to be making some speed trials, will ye, Captain?
KIRK: Not just now, Mr. Scott. Maybe later in the trip.
SCOTT: But, Captain —
KIRK: (firm) Later, Mr. Scott.
Scott decides to remain silent. Once Kirk leaves, he frowns.
SCOTT: (in a mock Shatnerian impression) Later, Mr. Scott! (beat) Blast it out yer shaft, ye inexperienced tyro….
INT. ENTERPRISE/RECREATION DECK
The recreation deck (having returned to previous state prior to the change-of-command ceremony) has been subdivided into a multitude of gymnasiums, game rooms, and lounges.
In one of the lounges, S’Pock sits alone at a table, playing a game of three-dimensional chess against himself. Deep in concentration, he doesn’t make an effort to acknowledge Captain Kirk’s presence as the Human enters the room and approaches him.
KIRK: Need an opponent?
S’POCK: No, Captain.
KIRK: Why are you playing alone?
S’POCK: Because, Captain, no one on board plays at my level.
KIRK: You’re modest, aren’t you?
S’POCK: I am neither modest nor immodest; both are character traits beyond which Vulcans have evolved. I state a fact.
KIRK: (scrutinizes chessboard) Are you playing black or white?
S’POCK: Both, of course, Captain.
KIRK: But black’s move? (smiles wrily) Of course?
Making a noncommittal sound, S’Pock proceeds to move a piece: queen to queen’s pawn D4. Placing the piece down, he thoughtfully draws his hand back.
KIRK: White to checkmate in three.
As the half-Vulcan looks up at him in disbelief, Kirk simply turns around, leisurely surveys the lounge, then strolls away.
INT. ENTERPRISE/MESS HALL
It is dinner time aboard the Enterprise, and a good number of the ship’s crew have assembled to eat.
S’Pock approaches one of the mess hall’s food synthesizers.
S’POCK: Computer, green salad, undressed.
As soon as the request is given, a tray with a plate of undressed green salad materializes within the synthesizer’s slot. Taking the tray, S’Pock makes his way to his usual table. Unfortunately for the lieutenant commander, who prefers to eat alone, the table is occupied by some of the female crew members: the exotic, dusky Zahra Jamal; the pretty, auburn Marla McGivers; and the cat-eyed Hazarstennaj. Talking with one another animatedly, they freeze and fall silent as they see S’Pock standing over them. Hesitating but a moment, the half-Vulcan takes a seat with them.
PO. JAMAL: (uneasy) Uh, Mr. S’Pock….
S’POCK: Yes, Petty Officer?
PO. JAMAL: Nothing. I mean, hello, sir.
Accepting her greeting without response, S’Pock settles down to eat. Grasping his fork, he spears some of the greens and lifts them to his mouth. Before he has a chance to bite down, the smell of the vegetables reaches his nostrils. Assaulted by the scent, he slowly puts the fork down and glances at the meals of his table partners. Jamal is having broiled salmon; McGivers some type of glazed fowl; Hazarstennaj a large, raw, 1-kilo steak. From the look of things, their plates have barely been touched.
S’POCK: Are your meals satisfactorily synthesized?
The others exchange glances. McGivers then GIGGLES.
S’POCK: Erroneous synthesis is a serious matter. I did not intend levity.
LT. MCGIVERS: I know that, Mr. S’Pock, but we were just talking about the food. It’s been getting worse all day.
S’POCK: The synthesizers must have been reprogrammed. I suspect the maintenance crews misadjusted them at Starbase 95.
PO. JAMAL: Anything’s a disappointment after the fresh salmon we had on Two Dawns, but this tastes like … (cringes) chicken.
LT. MCGIVERS: I knew I was challenging the synthesizer, so I suppose I was asking for it.
S’POCK: I beg your pardon, Lieutenant, but do you mean you got the meal you asked for, or you did not get the meal you asked for?
LT. MCGIVERS: (grins) Both. Neither. What I asked for was duck lusete. It’s a variation of duck à l’orange, but lese is from my homeworld, and it’s green. (beat) I didn’t expect the synthesizer to know what I was asking for. It didn’t reject the request … but it didn’t exactly fill it, either. This tastes like … (cringes) wood pulp and sugar syrup.
S’POCK: Am I correct in assuming that this is not what you wished it to taste like?
LT. MCGIVERS: You are correct.
PO. HAZARSTENNAJ: Wood pulp and syrup would be an improvement on this!
Growling, the cat-like petty officer picks up a shred of pink meat and thrusts it in S’Pock’s face. The half-Vulcan barely keeps himself from recoiling in disgust.
PO. HAZARSTENNAJ: Taste it!
S’POCK: Your assurance that it is unacceptable is quite sufficient.
PO. HAZARSTENNAJ: No, you must taste it to get the full effect. It tastes like … (cringes) it tastes like vegetables.
Cocking an eyebrow, S’Pock snatches the morsel from Hazarstennaj’s fingers, gives it a sniff, then pops it in his mouth. Chewing carefully, allowing the full flavour of the food to cover his palate, he swallows.
S’POCK: (picks up forkful of salad; offers it to Hazard) Perhaps you will find this to your taste.
PO. HAZARSTENNAJ: (growls) You wish me to eat leaves?
PO. JAMAL: Hazard will never live it down if she eats a salad, Mr. S’Pock.
S’POCK: The salad may be her only choice if she wishes animal protein in her dinner.
Growling softly, Hazarstennaj plucks the bit of salad off S’Pock’s fork and, with trepidation, places it in her mouth.
PO. HAZARSTENNAJ: (surprised) It is cooked!
S’POCK: That is true.
Taking her plate, Hazard swaps it for S’Pock’s.
PO. HAZARSTENNAJ: Better than nothing. I will trade you.
S’POCK: Very well. (divides pseudosteak in three) Lt. McGivers, PO. Jamal, will you have some? It tastes — I assume — more acceptable than wood pulp or chicken.
JAMAL & MCGIVERS: (in unison) Thanks.
Taking two-thirds of his pseudosteak, S’Pock places either piece on each of the Humans’ plates. Meanwhile, Hazard consumes her meat salad with great relish before going off to order another.
INT. ENTERPRISE/KIRK’S QUARTERS
Kirk is seated at his desk, dividing his finite attention between his computer console, a PADD, and several hardcopy printouts when he hears a BUZZ at his door.
KIRK: Come.
The door opens and Lt. Cmdr. Mitchell saunters in.
MITCHELL: Did you eat?
KIRK: Eat?
MITCHELL: Dinner.
KIRK: I lost track of time. (shakes head) I don’t believe it — five days into my five-year mission, and I’m already behind on my paperwork.
MITCHELL: (looks at mess on Kirk’s desk) What’s all this?
KIRK: It’s, you know, (waves hands) paperwork.
MITCHELL: Why are you doing it?
KIRK: It has to be done. (beat) I always do it, but I never had quite so much of it before.
MITCHELL: Where’s your yeoman?
KIRK: I don’t have a yeoman.
MITCHELL: (nonplussed) You don’t have one?
KIRK: I’ve never had one before.
MITCHELL: You’ve never been captain of a Constitution-class starship before.
KIRK: (irate) I don’t want a yeoman. I don’t need someone fussing over me and sticking things under my nose to sign and being sure the synthesizer put the right amount of carbohydrates in my food.
MITCHELL: (draws up chair; straddles it) James, permit your ol’ buddy, ol’ pal Mitch to give you some friendly advice. You’re commanding twice as many people as you ever have before. Starfleet paperwork increases in proportion to the size of the crew.
KIRK: It’ll be alright as soon as I get caught up.
MITCHELL: You’ll never get caught up. You know you’ll never get caught up. This isn’t your job anymore.
KIRK: I suppose you have a magical solution.
MITCHELL: James, go down to the quartermaster’s office, pick out a likely clerk, and promote them.
KIRK: It’ll take me more time to train somebody to do this than it would to do it myself.
MITCHELL: Not in the long run. Not if you pick someone with more than half a brain.
KIRK: (sighs) Alright, I’ll try it — on a temporary basis.
MITCHELL: (smiles) Good. (walks over to food synthesizer) Now, what do you want?
KIRK: Gary, I can feed myself.
MITCHELL: Just consider me acting yeoman for the time being.
KIRK: (sighs) Surprise me.
MITCHELL: Computer, roast teracaq with a side of west Centauri poutine and iced jestral tea.
The order materializes. Picking it up, Mitchell carries it over and sets it down before the captain.
MITCHELL: Bon appetit.
As the lieutenant commander departs, Kirk picks up his fork and knife and slices off a thin piece of the teracaj. As he bites into the meat, his face turns green, and he quickly spits it out into his napkin. The unwelcome taste still in his mouth, he picks up his mug of tea and takes a sip; he automatically spews the horrid liquid from his mouth.
INT. TALK SHOW SET — NIGHT
In front of a large bay window which looks out over an alien metropolis, behind a desk of midnight green wood, sits a TALK SHOW HOST.
SUPERIMPOSE: (in Federation Standard) THE FOURTH-QUARTER AT NIGHT SHOW!
ANNOUNCER: (V.O.) We now return to The Fourth-Quarter at Night Show! with Franc Gouger Is.
CUT TO
A close-up of FRANC GOUGER IS. Adorned in a five-piece suit of magenta and gold, Mr. Gouger looks almost exactly like a baseline Human; only his nictitating membranes break the illusion.
FRANC GOUGER IS: Welcome back, welcome back. (beat) Now, for our next guest. I’m sure you all know who she is; she played the laughing glo-stone leaper in The Infitters, played Ceean in Nightmare in Remelt Set, and now has a starring role as Lei in Lei & Wain: The Wain-B Story. (beat) Guys, gals, herms, and a’s, I present to you Ms. Moto!
PAN LEFT
As MOTO, an amphibious trans-animal with mottled brown skin, a bulbous head, a humped back, and webbed hands walks out onto the set.
Waving her fingers to the unseen audience as they applaud her, she strides up to Gouger’s desk as he rises from his chair. The two press hands together in greeting.
FRANC GOUGER IS: (smiles) Welcome to the show, Moto. My contractors are glad to have you here.
MOTO: (laughs) I’m glad to be here, too, Is.
Gouger returns to his chair as Moto takes a seat on the hot pink couch to his right.
FRANC GOUGER IS: How are you tonight, Moto?
MOTO: Oh, I’m fine — just fine.
FRANC GOUGER IS: Nice to hear that. Traffic in the second sector was the tenth hell earlier today. Did you —?
MOTO: The traffic was a little congested, but no biggie. (beat) You wanna see real bad traffic? Check out the skylanes of the Northeastern Quadrant back home; now that’s just awful.
FRANC GOUGER IS: (faces camera) You heard it here first, folks, straight from the qantu’s orifice: “Kwwa XI — homeworld of the Alpha Sector’s worst drivers.”
The audience LAUGHS uproariously.
INT. ENTERPRISE/KIRK'S CABIN
Capt. Kirk watches The Fourth-Quarter at Night Show! on a flatscreen display. Having discarded his jacket and kicked off his jackboots, Kirk sits low in the cushions of a comfortable sofa, eyelids heavy with drowsiness.
KIRK: (yawns) Sorry, Is, but it’s time for this starship captain to call it a night. (beat) Computer, record program already in progress and deactivate flatscreen display.
COMPUTER: Recording. Deactivating.
As the display goes dark and retracts into the floor, Kirk stands up then strips down to his underwear. Yawning again, he walks half-asleep to his bed, throws back the sheets, lies down on the mattress, then pulls the sheets back over him as he closes his eyes.
CROSSFADE TO
Carol Marcus, dressed only in a translucent black nightie, who now sits astride Kirk.
CAROL: (whispers) Jim … oh, Jim….
Kirk slowly opens his eyes. Coming awake to this beautiful angel straddling him, he smiles lazily.
KIRK: Carol…?
CAROL: (smiles) You were expecting maybe Lenore Karidian?
KIRK: You wouldn’t believe the dream I just had.
CAROL: (grins) You won’t believe the dream you’re going to have.
Smiling sexily, Carol bends low over Kirk, bringing her lips close to his. Before they can connect, she halts.
CAROL: Beep, beep, beep.
Kirk frowns.
INT. ENTERPRISE/KIRK’S CABIN
Kirk bolts upright, wide awake. The computer is sounding its wake-up call — a series of loud BEEPS.
KIRK: (disappointed) Damn….
Kirk rises from bed.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
The turbolift door swishes open and Kirk steps out onto the bridge. The officers of the day watch are all present and accounted for.
MITCHELL: Captain on the bridge!
The other crew members snap to attention.
KIRK: (perturbed) At … ease.
As the bridge crew relaxes, Kirk strides over to Mitchell’s station.
KIRK: Cmdr. Mitchell, it isn’t necessary to call attention to my presence each time I enter the bridge.
MITCHELL: (grins mischievously) Only following standard Starfleet procedure, Captain.
Frowning lightly, Kirk turns and waks over to the command chair.
KIRK: (sits down) What’s our current position, Mr. Kelso?
KELSO: Approximately 14.11 light-days from Starbase 104, sir.
KIRK: Mr. Mitchell, reduce warp factor to 2 then take her to 1/4 impulse power.
EXT. SPACE
The Enterprise drops out of warp. In the distance, a lone sentinel in a sea of stars, lies Starbase 104.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: Open hailing frequencies, Ms. Uhura.
A moment passes as Uhura tries establishing a connection with the starbase.
UHURA: Captain, I’m getting no response.
KIRK: (frowns) No response?
As the Enterprise closes in on Starbase 104, the starbase's image on the viewscreen grows larger and evermore defined. The telltale signs of weapons’ fire on the station’s hull soon become evident.
KIRK: Mr. S’Pock — readings!
S’POCK: (checks readouts) Structural integrity remains intact, but the fusion reactor has been compromised. Burn patterns indicate disruptor fire as the most probable cause of damage.
KIRK: Life signs?
S’POCK: Twenty-one lifeforms detected on board.
KIRK: But are they friend or are they foe?
S’POCK: That cannot be ascertained at this range, Captain.
As Kirk opens his mouth to reply, something strikes the ship with tremendous force, causing the bridge and everyone on it to rattle about violently.
EXT. SPACE — STARBASE 104
A K’t’inga-class battle cruiser has descended over the Enterprise from above. Its disruptors charged and aglow with green radiance, it unleashes another deadly disruptor beam upon the Constitution-class starship.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
The bridge is shaken violently about once again.
KIRK: Mr. Mitchell, 077-mark-10!
MITCHELL: 077-mark-10 — aye!
EXT. SPACE
The starship Enterprise follows the course Kirk has set for it. The K’t’inga follows along, firing disruptors.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: Turn us about, Mr. Mitchell. Fire phasers as soon as the Klingon ship comes within your scopes, Mr. Sulu.
EXT. SPACE
The Enterprise turns on its axis until it’s facing the battle cruiser, then bright blue phaser beams flash out, impacting on the Klingons’ shields. The Klingons are quick to reciprocate, and the two ships — the Enterprise flying backwards, the K’t’inga on its trail like a relentless hound — trade weapons’ fire.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: Sulu, fire six photon torpedoes aft!
SULU: But sir —!
KIRK: (irritated) I said fire, Mr. Sulu!
SULU: (resigned) Firing.
KIRK: Mitchell, Z-plus 10,000 metres!
EXT. SPACE
As the six glowing red photon torpedoes are deployed behind the Enterprise, the Federation ship pulls straight up, taking it directly out of way of the battle cruiser’s line of direction. The Klingon ship then plows directly into the torpedoes lying ahead. With tremendous explosions of antimatter, the K’t’inga is knocked askew, its deflectors decimated.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: Open fire with phasers, Mr. Sulu. Target flight and weapon systems only; I want them taken alive.
SULU: Aye, sir.
EXT. SPACE
Locking the K’t’inga-class battle cruiser in his scopes, Sulu opens fire. With the delicacy of a surgeon wielding a sharpened scalpel, the tactical officer excises the Klingon ship’s disruptor banks, photon torpedo tube, impulse engines, and starboard nacelle.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: Mr. S’Pock, give me a status report on the Klingon ship.
S’POCK: Neutralized, Captain. It is no longer capable of fight or flight.
KIRK: Very good. (beat) Ms. Uhura, open a channel to the battle cruiser.
EXT. SPACE
At that very moment, the Klingon ship explodes.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
Kirk sits silently in his chair, watching the flaming debris of the Klingon ship burn itself out in the airless vacuum of space.
KELSO: There goes surrender.
KIRK: Self-destruction — the last resort of a defeated Klingon captain. (presses armrest button) Maj. Ruan?
RUAN: (O.S.) Captain?
KIRK: Assemble a landing party of twelve and report to the transporter room immediately. Be sure to equip yourselves with type-3 phasers and mark-5 body armour.
S’POCK: I would advise against a beam-over, Captain. The Klingons will have surely tampered with the starbase transporters.
KIRK: (to Ruan) Major, report to shuttlebay instead. Cmdr. Mitchell and Dr. Piper will be accompanying you.
RUAN: Yes, sir.
KIRK: Kirk out.
Ending the communication, Kirk rises. As the captain crosses over to his station, Mitchell stands and faces him.
MITCHELL: This is one of the fringe benefits of being a first officer, I suppose.
KIRK: (half-smiles) I’d lead the landing party myself, but you know standard Starfleet procedure.
MITCHELL: The captain stays on the ship where he’s needed most.
KIRK: (claps Mitchell on shoulder) Good luck, Commander.
Flashing that roguish grin of his, Mitchell leaves the bridge.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 19, 2018 1:46:34 GMT -5
Duragizer -- Your writing has definitely improved ...
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Post by Duragizer on Aug 19, 2018 21:52:07 GMT -5
EXT. SPACE — STARBASE 104
The Enterprise’s shuttlebay door slides open, allowing the Galileo — a Class G shuttlecraft — exit into the open vacuum of space. Impulse thrusters blazing a bright azure, the Galileo begins its trek to Starbase 104.
INT. GALILEO/MAIN CABIN
The inner walls of the cabin are lined by two long benches. Seated upon these benches are Mitchell, Ruan, Piper, and TEN MACOS. Suited up in mark-5 body armour — environmentally sealed armour equipped with life support systems — they each go over their equipment and weapons.
PIPER: (praying quietly) Almighty God, whose way is in the sea, and whose paths are in the great waters, whose command is over all and whose love never fails: Let me be aware of Your presence and obedient to Your will. Keep me true to my best self, guarding me against dishonesty in purpose and in deed, and helping me so to live that I can stand unashamed and unafraid before my shipmates, my loved ones, and You. Protect those in whose love I live. Give me the will to do my best and to accept my share of responsibilities with a strong heart and a cheerful mind. Make me considerate of those entrusted to my leadership and faithful to the duties my country has intrusted to me. Let my uniform remind me daily of the traditions of the service of which I am a part. If I am inclined to doubt, steady my faith; if I am tempted, make me strong to resist; if I should miss the mark, give me courage to try again. Guide me with the light of truth and keep before me the life of Him by whose example and help I trust to obtain the answer to my prayer, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
As Piper concludes his prayer, he looks up to find Mitchell, seated across from him on the other bench, watching him.
MITCHELL: A religious man, Doc?
PIPER: I try to be. You?
MITCHELL: (shakes head) 4th generation secular humanist. Faith’s just not in my genes.
PIPER: In my experience, faith doesn’t spring from the genes. You find it somewhere down the road — or maybe it finds you — then once you have it, you have to struggle to keep it. (beat) There are times when I don’t feel the struggle’s worth it, when I feel I should throw away my cross and call it a day. Other times, I feel faith’s the only thing in life making the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune the least bit tolerable.
MITCHELL: (frowns) You’re not a very happy man, are you, Doc?
PIPER: (half-smiles) I have my days.
EXT. SPACE — STARBASE 104
The Galileo enters the open shuttlebay of the K-class space station.
INT. STARBASE 104/SHUTTLEBAY
The Galileo's phaser banks power up, glowing with bright green radiance, contrasting sharply with the red glow of the station's emergency lights. A burst of green energy is discharged, spreading out in a wide field throughout the entire interior, briefly overtaking and cancelling out the red light. The low-powered blast — calibrated only to take out organic life — isn’t powerful enough to inflict any severe structural damage to the walls or mechanical components inside the chamber.
INT. GALILEO/MAIN CABIN
As the shuttlecraft touches down, Mitchell crosses over to the rear of the compartment. He turns to face the others.
MITCHELL: Here’s what’s up: twenty-one lifeforms have been detected aboard this station. Of that twenty-one, we can’t be sure how many are friendlies, but six have been detected holed up in the station armory, the most secure area of the station. (beat) We're to head straight for that armory, retrieve the survivors, and get them safely to the Enterprise. They are our top and only priority; if enemy troops are present aboard this station, we can’t go out of the way looking for strays. (beat) Any questions?
No one replies.
MITCHELL: Alright then. (puts on helmet) Lock ‘n’ load!
Standing, the others secure their helmets in place, activate their life support systems, and bring their phaser rifles to bear. The Galileo’s hatch then pops open and lowers, leading out into the shuttlebay.
INT. STARBASE 104/SHUTTLEBAY
Bringing his rifle up, the lieutenant commander cautiously steps out of the shuttlecraft, making his way down the ramp onto the shuttlebay deck. Ruan and the other MACOs follow Mitchell out into the shuttlebay. Though the reactor no longer provides enough energy to keep the shuttlebay pressurized, the station's artificial gravity is still in effect. Spreading out, they keep their eyes peeled for hidden dangers, fingers tensed over their phaser triggers as they make their way from the Galileo deeper into the cavernous bay.
The landing party soon comes to the freight turbolift; a portable airlock of Klingon design has been installed against the opening. Taking out her comcorder, Ruan goes to inspect the airlock.
RUAN: It's safe. Just your basic portable airlock.
INT. STARBASE 104/TURBOLIFT
Once past the airlock into the large turbolift, the landing party members turn on their helmet lamps and look up. As the beams of light play over the ceiling of the cab, they see an impromptu portal has been opened with disruptorfire, allowing passage into the turbolift shaft.
Pressing a button in his gauntlet, Mitchell activates a red holographic map of the starbase; the path to the armory is illuminated in yellow.
MITCHELL: The armory’s on Level 10. (beat) Set phasers to full power. We don’t know what’s waiting for us up there.
Rifles set to full power, antigravity boots activated, the landing party walks straight up the wall of the turbolift cab, through the ragged hole, and into the turbolift shaft.
INT. STARBASE 104/TURBOLIFT SHAFT
The landing party makes its way along the turbolift shaft. Dark and dusty, the lamps of their helmets providing the only illumination, the shaft is like a tunnel leading straight into foreboding nothingness.
MITCHELL: (checks map) Fifteen more metres to go.
As they continue, yellow warning lights begin blinking on their comcorders.
RUAN: Commander! There’s something in here with us!
In the darkness ahead, four small green lights flash into existence, forming a lozenge pattern in the void. The lights begin advancing on them.
MITCHELL: Steady….
As the armoured Starfleet personnel stand there, stock-still with their phaser rifles at the ready, the green lights move into the beams of their helmets. As the yellow-white light washes over them, the lights are revealed to be the sensors of a KLINGON HUNTER-KILLER. A large, semi-humanoid robot, the hunter-killer is eight-feet tall, its head, shoulders, arms, and chest bristling with built-in disruptors.
MACO #1: Hunter-killer!
The MACO springs forward, firing upon the hunter-killer. The blue phaser beam strikes the hunter-killer dead centre, but the energy dissipates against the automaton’s powerful deflector shield. The hunter-killer returns fire with its pair of head disruptors. The twin disruptor beams burn into the MACO’s armoured chest, and with a bloodcurdling SHRIEK he is disintegrated in disturbing fashion, leaving an emptied suit of armour behind. The remaining members of the landing party spread out. Training their rifles on the hunter-killer, they open fire; leaving their fingers pressed down on their triggers, they keep phaser energy trained upon the behemoth, hoping to overwhelm its deflector shield. Its shield glowing brightly as the blue phaser energy washes over it, the hunter-killer fires back. Four more MACOs are struck down, their armour joining their foolhardy companion’s.
Just as a MACO loads a photon grenade into a grenade launcher, she’s shot down by the Klingon machine. As the grenade launcher plummets past him, Mitchell snatches the weapon out of the air. Somersaulting across the floor, he finds the hunter-killer in his sights and pulls the trigger. With a burst of red light, the photon grenade rockets forth, striking the hunter-killer with deadly accuracy; with a bright white burst, electricity cascades over the body of the hunter-killer. Shouldering the launcher, Mitchell takes his rifle and fires upon the robot; the beam slams into the robot's left shoulder disruptor without hinderance, blasting it apart.
With the surviving landing party members firing upon the now-unshielded robot, the hunter-killer begins faltering against the onslaught of phaser beams. Encased in heavy armour plating, however, the machine still has fight left in it. Advancing on its treads, it swivels around until it’s got Mitchell in clear line of sight of its left arm disruptor. Mitchell, quick on his feet, leaps out of the way just in time to avoid the full force of the subsequent disruptor blast, but the green beam grazes his side; the armour there superheating, damage is inflicted to the underlying flesh.
Before the hunter-killer can finish the job, Ruan leaps in between it and Mitchell. Instead of firing upon the bronze-skinned woman, the hunter-killer inexplicably freezes. Taking advantage of the robot's hesitation, the major jams the barrel of her rifle into its chest and pulls the trigger, unleashing high-powered phaser energy directly into the machine's heart. With a BOOM, Ruan is tossed back as the hunter-killer is reduced to white-hot shrapnel.
Grimacing, Mitchell holds his side where the disruptor beam struck him. Approaching the lieutenant commander, Piper scans his injury.
PIPER: (frowns) This isn’t good….
MITCHELL: Give it to me straight, Doc.
PIPER: The armour protected you from the brunt of the hit, but you still suffered severe subdermal hemorrhaging. (beat) Commander, if you don’t report to sickbay as soon as possible, you’re going to bleed to death internally.
MITCHELL: (shakes head) Isn’t there something you have on hand that can help?
PIPER: A shot of triclenidil would slow the bleeding, but —
MITCHELL: Give it to me.
Unsealing one of his gauntlets, Mitchell pulls it off, allowing Piper access to his naked wrist. Frowning, the doctor opens his medical kit, fixes a vial of triclenidil to his hypospray, then injects the drug into Mitchell’s bloodstream.
PIPER: You’re dancing on the razor’s edge, Commander.
MITCHELL: (reseals gauntlet) My favourite place to be.
Leaving Mitchell, Piper turns his attentions to Ruan, who has regained her wits. Without asking, he begins scanning her for injuries.
RUAN: I'm fine, Doctor. (holds up blackened rifle) My rifle'll never be the same….
Once Piper has made the rounds, Mitchell hefts up his rifle, motioning for his subordinates' attention.
MITCHELL: Recess is over, boys and girls. Hup to.
As the MACOs resume their stride, Mitchell stops Ruan and waves her over.
RUAN: Yes, Commander?
MITCHELL: If it hadn’t been for you, Major, my goose would have literally been cooked. Thank you.
RUAN: It doesn’t seem to have done you much good, Commander.
MITCHELL: Still, it’s better to be dying than dead. (grimaces) God, disruptor blasts really smart.
RUAN: You should follow Dr. Piper’s advice, Commander. Return to the Enterprise. I can handle the mission from here.
MITCHELL: I wouldn’t even make it to the shuttlebay. Piper knows it, I know it. (beat) You familiar with the ancient Terran song “Rock of Ages”?
RUAN: I can’t say I am.
MITCHELL: “It’s better to burn out than to fade away.”
Turning on his heel, Mitchell leaves Ruan to make his way back to the head of the group.
INT. STARBASE 104/LEVEL 10/CORRIDOR #1
At the end of this corridor, the door into the turbolift shaft stands open. Peeking up over the bottom edge of the door, Mitchell brings his rifle up and over, scoping the corridor for enemy agents.
MITCHELL: It’s clear.
Mitchell climbs out of the shaft and into the corridor, followed quickly by Ruan, Piper, and the remaining five MACOs.
PIPER: (takes environmental readings) I’m not registering contaminants in the air. It should be safe to breathe, if a trifle stale.
MITCHELL: You heard the doc; you can open your helmets.
They all retract the faceplates of their helmets.
MITCHELL: (reactivates map) The armory’s three corridors down. Let’s go.
INT. STARBASE 104/LEVEL 10/CORRIDOR OUTSIDE ARMORY
The landing party soon comes to the armory. At the door they spy SIX KLINGON WARRIORS. Halting, Mitchell throws up his hand for the others to do likewise. With another gesture, he motions them to spread out and plant themselves out of sight. Each seven-feet tall, humanoid in form, armed with heavy disruptor rifles, and encased head-to-toe in black armour which makes them look like Samurai warriors fused with emperor scorpions, even a blind man can see the Klingons are dangerous opponents who will not surrender or go down without a brutal fight.
MITCHELL: (pulls out stun grenade; arms it) Just a little gift from Starfleet, boys.
Kissing the grenade, Mitchell lobs it out into the midst of the Klingon warriors. The Klingons quickly take notice of the grenade, bark guttural Klingon proclamations through the filters of their helmets, and are quickly overtaken by the grenade’s wave of bright, green energy. Protected by their heavy armour, the Klingons remain conscious, albeit incredibly weakened and unsteady on their feet. Allowing the warriors no chance to recover, Mitchell and Ruan jump out of hiding, opening fire with their phaser rifles. The blue phaser beams pierce the black suits of armour with a minimum of effort; with sharp CRIES of quick pain, the Klingons fall.
Crossing to the armory door, Mitchell quickly looks it over. Finding an intercom beside it, he pops the front panel open, exposing the inner workings of the powerless device.
MITCHELL: I need the generator over here.
One of the MACOs, saddled with a heavy pack, joins Mitchell by the door. Opening the pack, he fishes out a portable generator. Taking the power cords, Mitchell hooks them up to the intercom.
MITCHELL: Alright, turn it on.
The MACO flips a switch and a current of energy begins flowing into the intercom panel. The inner workings of the intercom light up.
MITCHELL: (activates intercom) This is Gary Mitchell, Starfleet lieutenant commander, serial number HE5095C21922, first officer of the USS Enterprise. I’m here with an armed escort; we’re here to take you back to the Enterprise. If you can, respond.
Mitchell gives whoever is on the other side a chance to respond. The intercom remains silent.
MITCHELL: (to MACO) Can we cut through this door?
MACO #2: This door’s solid beresium. Even a disruptor at full power wouldn’t burn through.
Right then, the intercom CRACKLES.
RAND: (O.S.; weak) Commander?
MITCHELL: I’m here. Who’s this?
RAND: (O.S.) Janice Rand, Starfleet petty officer, 1st class, serial number CU4729D20023. (beat) How do I really know you’re Starfleet?
MITCHELL: You’ll just have to take my word for it, Ms. Rand.
RAND: (O.S.) I suppose so. (beat) I’ve unsealed the lock; you have to open the door.
Working with the MACOs, Mitchell attaches a mechanical apparatus to the door. With it, they pull the door open, allowing access to the armory.
INT. STARBASE 104/ARMORY
Mitchell enters the armory. Beside the door, half-leaning, half-lying against the intercom, is the barely conscious Janice Rand, a respirator affixed over her mouth and nose. Beyond her are FOURTEEN FIGURES, all laid out prone about the compartment, many of them wearing respirators like Rand’s. As we can ascertain from the life readings taken by S’Pock earlier, at least eight of them are already dead.
MITCHELL: Doctor, get in here.
Piper rushes in. Moving in on Rand, he begins taking her readings.
PIPER: She’s suffering from oxygen deprivation.
Grimacing in pain, Mitchell clutches his injured side.
MITCHELL: (groans) I can see that, Doc. Give her something to help.
Taking his hypospray, Piper injects the young woman with tri-ox compound. Almost immediately, she begins coming around. The doctor goes to attend to the other living patients.
MITCHELL: (to Rand) You well enough to stand?
RAND: (removes respirator) Yes, I ...
Still woozy, Rand almost collapses. Mitchell is quick to brace her up, but at the expense of causing more pain through his side.
MITCHELL: (grimaces; to MACOs outside) C’mon, lend us a hand!
Ruan and the other MACOs enter. As they go to help the survivors to their feet, we can see amongst their number the Betazoid science officer and Capt. Quloob himself.
MITCHELL: (to Rand) You think you’re ready to handle a weapon?
RAND: I believe so, yes.
MITCHELL: Then grab yourself a phaser rifle.
Leaving Mitchell’s side, Rand crosses over to a gun rack holding several type-2 phaser pistols. Taking one of the pistols, she then moves over to a rack holding separate rifle emitters. Taking an emitter, she interlocks the two components, converting the pistol into a complete type-3 phaser rifle.
MITCHELL: (to other survivors) If any of you are good enough to go, outfit yourselves with rifles, too. We’re moving out.
INT. STARBASE 104/LEVEL 10/CORRIDOR #1
The landing party and the starbase survivors make their way back through the corridor en-route to the open turbolift shaft.
MITCHELL: Captain, when did the Klingons attack?
CAPT. QULOOB: Six days ago? Seven? (shakes head) I’m sorry. I’m not sure.
MITCHELL: You have any idea why they attacked?
CAPT. QULOOB: I have some idea, yes.
MITCHELL: Would you care to divulge that information, Captain?
CAPT. QULOOB: In due time, Commander.
Frowning, Mitchell prepares to press the Tellarite further, but doesn’t get the chance. As they round a bend in the corridor, they find FIVE KLINGON HUNTER-SEEKERS — floating, tri-winged weapons equipped with single green sensors for vision and disruptors secured to their undercarriages for offense/defense — waiting for them at the end of the corridor.
MITCHELL: (jumps back) Hunter-seekers! Get back!
One of the hunter-seekers fires its disruptor, but the landing party and starbase survivors both avoid the disintegrating beam. Bringing up her rifle, Rand opens fire on the attacking hunter-seeker, keeping the blue beam trained upon the dangerous device. The weapon’s in-built deflector shield holds for five seconds before winking out; then it's blown it to smithereens.
Backing away, the Starfleet personnel flee back up the corridor as the hunter-seekers gain chase.
INT. STARBASE 104/LEVEL 10/CORRIDOR #2
Blue and green beams crisscross the length of the corridor, forming a beautiful but deadly light show. Hunter-seekers and Starfleet personnel are both cut down in the rain of death.
Hoisting up the grenade launcher, Ruan turns to one of her men.
RUAN: Proximity grenade, double-quick!
Fishing out a proximity grenade, the MACO hands it to the major. Taking the grenade, she hurriedly arms it and just as hurriedly slides it into the launcher. Finding the approaching hunter-seekers in her scope, she grits her teeth and pulls the trigger. Rocketing forward, the proximity grenade enters the swarm of hunter-seekers. Detecting the Klingon weapons, it detonates; with an immense explosion of pure white light, the hunter-seekers and surrounding corridor are reduced to fine debris.
Just as she’s almost ready to let down her guard, a green disruptor beams flashes past the tough major, barely missing her left arm, demolishing the grenade launcher in her hands instead. Taking her phaser rifle, she spins around to her left. In an adjoining corridor, NINE KLINGON WARRIORS are on approach. Grimacing, she shoots a Klingon warrior right through his disruptor rifle, into his gut, returning the favour.
INT. STARBASE/LEVEL 10/CORRIDOR #3
On the run from the armoured Klingon warriors, the Starfleet personnel enter this new corridor. Most of their number has now been lost to the Klingons. Of the landing party, only Mitchell, Ruan, Piper, and two MACOs remain; of the starbase personnel, only Quloob, Rand, the Betazoid, and a handsome female lieutenant with short blond hair.
BETAZOID SCIENCE OFFICER: There’s a transporter in this section! We can use it to escape!
RUAN: Any non-Klingon uses that transporter will find themself reduced to protoplasm.
BETAZOID SCIENCE OFFICER: I can reverse whatever tampering they've done to the system. I need only time to do it.
MACO #3: (skeptical) Time? Well….
INT. STARBASE 104/TRANSPORTER ROOM
The Starfleet personnel enter a transporter room. As Ruan and her two men brace themselves against the open door to lay down cover fire, Mitchell collapses to his knees, finally succumbing to his injuries.
RUAN: Commander!
Coming to Mitchell’s aid, the major helps him back to his feet.
MITCHELL: (pained; to Betazoid) Alright, Lieutenant, if you can do it, do it now.
The science officer goes to the transporter console. Whipping out his comcorder, he jacks it into the console. He begins running through the software, reversing the Klingons' reprogramming.
As the Betazoid works at the console, the Klingons steadily advance towards the transporter room. One of the two MACOs stationed by the door is hit by disruptorfire, and he goes down with a scream, his phaser rifle hitting the deck with a CLATTER as the molecules of his body break apart. Pulling away from Ruan, Mitchell takes the place of the fallen MACO, opening fire on the Klingon warriors amassed in the outside corridor.
RUAN: (edgy) Commander —!
MITCHELL: Stay back, Major!
The sabotage undone, the Betazoid uncouples his comcorder from the console.
BETAZOID SCIENCE OFFICER: We’re good to go!
CAPT. QULOOB: Everyone on the transporter pad!
As Piper, Quloob, Rand, and the blonde lieutenant hurry to climb atop the transporter pad, Ruan hesitates, eyes fixed on her commanding officer.
MITCHELL: (to MACO beside him) With the others, Private.
MACO #4: But sir —
MITCHELL: (interrupts) That’s an order, Private.
With reservation, the MACO crosses over to the transporter. Mitchell notices Ruan staring at him.
MITCHELL: You, too, Major.
Frowning, Ruan strides up to Mitchell, seemly unaware of or unconcerned with the danger posed by the incoming disruptorfire.
MITCHELL: (angry) Major, maybe you didn’t hear me. I gave you a direct order. Join the others on the transporter pad now.
RUAN: All due respect, Commander ...
Balling her gauntleted right hand into a fist, Ruan punches Mitchell hard in the face, knocking him out cold.
RUAN: (cont’d) go to hell.
Hefting Mitchell’s limp form up and over her shoulder, the major scrambles over to the transporter pad, joining the others there.
BETAZOID SCIENCE OFFICER: (activates transporter) Energizing.
As a low HUM begins emanating from the transporter, the science officer leaves the controls. Unfortunately for the Betazoid, an armoured Klingon warrior enters the room, disintegrating him with one shot from his disruptor rifle. The Klingon then trains his weapon on the transporter control console. Rand brings him into her scope, shooting him right through the helmeted head, but not in time to keep him from blowing the console away.
A transport beam — weak, nearly colourless — coalesces around the people standing on the pad. As the Starfleet personnel are converted into energy, the transport beam begins flickering erratically.
INT. ENTERPRISE/TRANSPORTER ROOM
In the transporter room, SLt. Kyle stands over the controls, eyes fixed on the transport beam before him. Like its twin on Starbase 104, it, too, is ephemeral and nigh-colourless. Furrowing his brow, he tries boosting the signal, but to little avail.
KIRK: (enters room) What’s happening, Mr. Kyle?
KYLE: Someone’s trying to beam in, sir, from the starbase. The signal’s incredibly weak.
KIRK: Have you tried boosting the signal from our end?
KYLE: Yes, sir.
Several tense moments pass, with the tenuous transport beam coming to the brink of discorporating, Finally, the transfer goes through; the landing party and starbase survivors successfully materialize on the transporter pad without a single molecule displaced.
Leaving Kyle, the starship captain approaches the survivors. He grows anxious when he notices Mitchell’s unconscious form braced against Ruan.
KIRK: (worried) Gary‽ What happened‽
PIPER: He took a disruptor hit. If I don’t get him to sickbay right now he’s going to die.
KIRK: Do it.
Kirk moves aside to let Piper and Ruan pass with Mitchell. The captain then turns to regard the other beam-overs. It is at that very moment he meets the eye of Yn. Rand. For an instant, there’s an immediate connection between them — an unconscious sense of mutual familiarity and recognition — but it is just as quickly broken, gone as if it had never been.
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Post by Duragizer on Aug 20, 2018 19:35:52 GMT -5
INT. ENTERPRISE/SICKBAY
Piper and Ruan enter the sickbay, Mitchell’s limp form held between them. Already in wait for them is a contingent of nurses.
PIPER: Help us get his armour off.
Moving in, the nurses assist Piper and Ruan with the removal of Mitchell’s body armour. Once that is done, they carry him over to a biobed, laying him down on it. One of the nurses takes up a pair of scissors and cuts open the front of the lieutenant commander’s black bodysuit; pushing it aside, the nasty disruptor wound on Mitchell’s torso is revealed. The nurses quickly administer an anesthetic and disinfect the wound.
NURSE #1: A disruptor blast?
PIPER: (removes helmet & gauntlets) Yes. Thank God it was a glancing hit. (to Nurse #4) Hand me the laser scalpel.
NURSE #4: Aren’t we going to use the cellular regenerator, Doctor?
PIPER: (shakes head) The hemorrhaging is too extensive. We’ll have to go in with a protoplaser if we’re to stop the bleeding.
The nurse hands Piper the laser scalpel. Activating the tool, the doctor begins making the incision.
PIPER: (to Mitchell) As for you, you pig-headed son of a bitch, you’d better not die on me.
INT. ENTERPRISE/CORRIDOR OUTSIDE SICKBAY
Kirk is standing outside sickbay, anxiously awaiting news on Mitchell’s condition. The sickbay door slides open and Dr. Piper walks out, expression stoic.
KIRK: Doctor, how is he?
PIPER: I managed to stop the internal bleeding and heal the most grievous damage, but it was a serious injury….
KIRK: (grabs Piper by shoulders) Give it to me straight, Doctor.
PIPER: His condition’s been stabilized, but I can’t say with any certainty that it’ll improve.
Swallowing audibly, Kirk releases his grip on the doctor.
KIRK: Can I see him?
PIPER: Yes.
INT. ENTERPRISE/SICKBAY
Kirk walks over to Mitchell’s biobed. The lieutenant commander, lying prone atop the bed with a sheet pulled up to his bandaged torso, looks peaceful in his unconsciousness.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIEFING ROOM
Kirk, S’Pock, Scotty, and Ruan are seated at a long conference table when Capt. Quloob and Yn. Rand enter the briefing room.
KIRK: (rises from chair; approaches Quloob) Capt. Quloob.
CAPT. QULOOB: Capt. Kirk. (shakes Kirk’s hand) If only we could have met under more agreeable circumstances. I hear Cmdr. Mitchell is in recovery?
KIRK: (nods) Cmdr. S’Pock will be handling his responsibilities as first officer until he’s ready to resume active duty.
CAPT. QULOOB: (gestures to Rand) Have you met my yeoman, Janice Rand?
KIRK: (glances at Rand) Briefly.
After Kirk and Rand shake hands, the yeoman and two captains take a seat at the table.
CAPT. QULOOB: May I ask how the situation aboard the starbase is being handled?
KIRK: We’ve sent drones in to contain the remaining Klingons and locate any surviving members of your crew….
CAPT. QULOOB: Are there any?
KIRK: I’m sorry.
Quloob nods solemnly. This news only confirms what he already suspected.
CAPT. QULOOB: Capt. Kirk, you’re probably wondering what inspired the Klingon Empire to attack us — a small, inconsequential starbase out in the middle of nowhere.
CAPT. KIRK: The thought had occurred to me.
CAPT. QULOOB: (reaches into jacket) I have good reason to believe they attacked us over this.
The Tellarite pulls out a small microtape and hands it to S’Pock. Taking the microtape, S’Pock inserts it in a reader. A projection of the nearby galaxy is automatically displayed from the holoprojector at the centre of the table.
CAPT. QULOOB: While charting new routes, Federation scouts came across a previously undiscovered G-class planet three years ago. This planet — P2G-0091 — turned out to be quite extraordinary.
The hologram shifts focus to reveal P2G-0091 in full detail. Rocky and barren, the world is tinted pink by its atmosphere.
CAPT. QULOOB: (cont’d) 85% of its lithosphere consists of nithium crystal deposits. The atmosphere itself is rich with dinithium gases.
SCOTT: (amazed) Ye could build a trillion warp drives over with that much nithium!
S’POCK: Quite fascinating. If that information got out, it could cause a —
KIRK: (interrupts) Gold rush, S’Pock?
S’POCK: (cont’d) I was thinking war, Captain.
CAPT. QULOOB: Gentlemen, I think that highly sensitive data has gotten out.
KIRK: (to Quloob) This planet — are you certain it doesn’t lie within Klingon jurisdiction?
CAPT. QULOOB: Absolutely certain. It is nowhere to be found on the registry of local Klingon territories. A Klingon presence was never detected in-system. (beat) Captain, there’re over three-hundred colonists living on P2G-0091; they don’t have any means to defend themselves. If you don’t set course for the planet right away, the Klingons will certainly do to them what they did here to us.
Leaning back in his chair, Kirk SIGHS.
KIRK: How far away is P2G-0091 from here?
CAPT. QULOOB: Approximately 2 light-years.
S’POCK: And the attack on the starbase was staged six days ago?
CAPT. QULOOB: Give-or-take.
SCOTT: (to Kirk) Captain, those D7 cruisers canna travel any faster than warp 5.
KIRK: It’d take them around six days to reach P2G-0091. Travelling at warp 8, we could get there inside of a day.
S’POCK: They do have a six-day advance on us, Captain.
KIRK: Yes. All the more reason to move immediately. (rises from chair) Dismissed.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
On the bridge, almost all is as it was before the arrival at Starbase 104. The only change is that Ensign Jana Haines, a woman with short red hair, has taken Mitchell’s place at the helm.
The turbolift door to the bridge slides open. Stepping out of the turbolift, Kirk and S’Pock head to their stations.
S’POCK: Captain on the bridge.
KIRK: (sits down) There’ll be no more of that, Mr. S’Pock.
S’POCK: Yes, Captain.
KIRK: Mr. Kelso, lay in a course for system S3OBB-44600.
KELSO: Course laid in, sir.
KIRK: Ens. Haines, take us to maximum warp.
EXT. SPACE
The USS Enterprise slips into warp space, on a mad dash for P2G-0091.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 21, 2018 11:00:05 GMT -5
The Sickbay story is really a fantastic descriptive and surprisingly good short story here.
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Post by Duragizer on Aug 21, 2018 17:49:28 GMT -5
EXT. SPACE — P2G-0091
P2G-0091 lies in the dark sea of space, its three parent stars far in the distance. A world of empty desert, its atmosphere providing it its rosy tint, it is a near-twin of the planet Mars as it was uncounted centuries in the past, before it was terraformed into a resplendent M-class planet.
Dropping out of warp, the Enterprise moves on approach for the colony world.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
Kirk sits in his chair, clenching and unclenching his left fist at regular intervals; it's all he can do to keep himself from jumping out of his seat and pacing about the bridge. Capt. Quloob stands behind him, a quiet observer.
KELSO: We are coming up on P2G-0091 now, sir.
KIRK: Onscreen.
A live-feed image of P2G-0091’s upper hemisphere is brought up onto the viewscreen.
KIRK: Magnify to 10.
The Enterprise’s scanners zoom in and the image grows in size, enlarging until details on the surface come into focus. In moments, the P2G-0091 colony can be seen — or more accurately, the remains of the P2G-0091 colony. The refinery and a few derelict land vehicles remain intact, but the transmitter tower and housing facilities have been utterly burnt to the ground, leaving scorched earth in their place.
CAPT QULOOB: We’re too late.
KIRK: Uhura…?
Uhura turns in her seat, meeting Kirk’s gaze with her own.
UHURA: (shakes head) I’m sorry, Captain.
Kirk’s features briefly contort with rage, but the captain pushes it down, refusing to let it overwhelm him.
KIRK: Where are they?
EXT. SPACE — P2G-0091
Emerging from behind the other side of the planet, two K’t’inga-class battle cruisers move on approach for the Enterprise, disruptor banks bristling with energy.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
ENS. HAINES: Straight ahead, sir.
UHURA: They’re hailing us.
KIRK: Let’s see them.
Uhura relays the incoming transmission to the viewscreen, and an image of a Klingon appears onscreen. The Klingon is male, clad in the black bodysuit and sleeveless mail tunic of a Klingon officer, a gold baldric bearing his rank, family, house, and caste insignia affixed over his chest. His skin is bronze, with beady eyes, a broad nose, a Fu Manchu mustache, and a cruel mouth situated upon his face. Were it not for the pronounced forehead ridges he sports, he’d be virtually indistinguishable from a baseline Human.
KOR: Commander Kor of the Klingon battle cruiser Klothos.
EXT. SPACE — P2G-0091
The lead K’t’inga opens fire. The disruptor beams pass just over the Enterprise’s bow — a warning shot.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KOR: (cont’d) I am prepared to discuss the terms of your surrender.
KIRK: Capt. Kirk of the Federation starship Enterprise. Commander, does this look like a cold day in Hell to you?
KOR: Should I interpret that clumsy Human idiom to mean you refuse to surrender, Kirk? With your one ship under the guns of my two cruisers? (beat) Very well, perhaps I should give you a choice instead. You may surrender or you may die.
KIRK: If that’s a bluff, it’s not a strong one, Kor. You’ve already destroyed a Federation colony in Federation space; destroy a Starfleet vessel and war between our two peoples will be a foregone conclusion.
KOR: It is you who provides the weak bluff, Kirk. This planet does not fall within Federation Space; your mining operation was established on unclaimed territory. And as the terms of our treaty clearly state, either of our two powers can lay claim to disputed territories — with or without extreme prejudice. (beat) I give you seven minutes, Captain — seven minutes to acquiesce or suffer the consequences of the alternative.
Kor ends the connection.
KIRK: (faces Quloob) Was he telling the truth? Did our people erect a colony without laying claim to the planet first?
CAPT. QULOOB: Technically … yes.
KIRK: (angry) Three-hundred people dead — needlessly!
CAPT. QULOOB: It wasn’t my decision to make, Captain.
Frustrated, Kirk faces back forward.
KIRK: Mr. S’Pock, you are our resident logician. What course of action do you suggest we take?
S’POCK: Captain, the Enterprise is an exploratory vessel; it was designed for long-duration missions at the expense of heavy weaponry. Conversely, the D7s were specifically designed for combat; they are equipped with six disruptor banks and two torpedo launchers each. (beat) Only through subterfuge were we able to defeat the last D7, and then only barely. The same initial conditions will not be in play here.
KIRK: So we turn tail and run.
CAPT QULOOB: We can’t leave all that nithium to the Klingons!
S’POCK: It is the logical decision.
KIRK: Logical, but not reasonable.
S’Pock merely cocks an eyebrow in response.
KIRK: (sighs) Lt. Uhura, hail the Klothos.
Uhura opens a channel to the Klothos. In seconds, Kor’s face reappears on the viewscreen.
KOR: So, you’ve accepted the inevitable.
KIRK: Yes, I’ve accepted the inevitable — the inevitable conclusion that I can’t allow a planet of nithium to fall into Klingon hands.
KOR: (grins) Will you make a fight out of this after all?
KIRK: No. Trying to take you on would be like a tiger trying to take on a pair of tiger sharks.
KOR: What then? You have no reinforcements, nothing to bargain with.
KIRK: Kor, are you at all familiar with King Solomon?
KOR: I don’t make the sovereigns of inferior races a concern of mine.
KIRK: Solomon was a king on ancient Earth, famous for his wisdom. He was so wise that people from all over the world came to him, eagre for his advice. (beat) On one morning, a pair of women came to his palace. They each claimed to be the mother of a newborn son and wanted Solomon to resolve their dispute. Solomon, wise as his was, quickly came up with a solution; he would have the child cut in half, allowing the pair to have equal shares of the boy.
KOR: If this is what passes for Human wisdom, then your race is a sorry one indeed.
KIRK: (cont’d) While one of the women agreed to Solomon’s resolution, the other was despondent. She begged Solomon not to have the boy killed, promising to relinquish all claim to the child if the king would spare his life. Solomon knew then who the rightful mother was. Taking the baby, he placed him in the arms of the woman who was ready to give him up for his own benefit. (beat) You see, Kor, I am King Solomon; the Federation and Klingon Empire are the two women. Only this time, neither of the women will give the child up for its benefit.
INT. KLOTHOS/BRIDGE
The Klingon science officer — a gracile Klingon with no forehead ridges, incredibly pale skin, and very fine hair — spins around in his chair to face Kor.
KLINGON SCIENCE OFFICER: The Enterprise has charged her weapons. She is targeting the planet!
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: If you have any personnel on the surface, I advise you to beam them up if you can. (beat) Lt. Sulu, photon torpedoes, full spread.
EXT. SPACE — P2G-0091
The Enterprise deploys its entire payload of photon torpedoes. A massive arrow of glowing red death, they head straight for the planet. Upon dropping into the atmosphere, they detonate, setting off a massive conflagration which immediately begins consuming the dinithium gases.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
S’POCK: Sensors indicate the photon torpedoes have ignited the dinithium atmosphere and initiated a combustive cascade through the entire geosphere. I estimate the whole of P2G-0091 will explode in 1.29 minutes, unleashing a subspace shockwave which will annihilate everything within a 1.7 light-year radius. (beat) You have inadvertently killed us all, Captain.
KIRK: Turn us around and get us the hell out of here.
EXT. SPACE — P2G-0091
The Enterprise swivels around, impulse engines flaring as it heads as far and as fast as it can away from the volatile planet.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: (presses armrest button) Mr. Scott.
INT. ENTERPRISE/MAIN ENGINEERING
SCOTT: Yes, Captain?
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: Mr. Scott, you recall that discussion on speed trials we had the other day?
INT. ENTERPRISE/MAIN ENGINEERING
SCOTT: Yes, Captain.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: (O.S.) Now would be an opportune time to follow through with them. Don’t you agree?
INT. ENTERPRISE/MAIN ENGINEERING
SCOTT: (grins) Aye, Ah certainly do!
EXT. SPACE — P2G-0091
As the Enterprise goes to warp, P2G-0091 explodes, unleashing a spherical shockwave of coruscating violet energy which quickly subsumes into subspace, obliterating the neighbouring planets and parent stars in an instant before moving on to the surrounding systems.
EXT. WARP SPACE — ENTERPRISE
The Enterprise moves forward through warp space, travelling at the highest possible velocities to escape the subspace shockwave. The shockwave is right on the ship’s heels, however, its destructive violet energies seeping into the superluminal corridor and licking the rear end of the starship, threatening to overtake and destroy it.
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: Faster, Mr. Scott! Must go faster!
INT. ENTERPRISE/MAIN ENGINEERING
Scott and his corp of engineers are hard at work coaxing more-and-more energy out of the warp drive.
SCOTT: The bairns are burnin’ at warp 8.8, sir!
INT. ENTERPRISE/BRIDGE
KIRK: Then get them burning at warp 9, Mr. Scott!
EXT. WARP SPACE — ENTERPRISE
Warp space directly behind the Enterprise roils with glowing violet-white energy, the ship's deflectors visibly glowing as the shockwave threatens to tear everything apart. In moments — certainly under a minute — the shockwave will consume the Enterprise.
Miraculously, the Enterprise begins accelerating to ever-greater velocity. Perhaps Scotty managed to coax a little more energy out of the warp drive, or perhaps the energies of the shockwave itself are augmenting the starship’s speed. Whatever the explanation, the Enterprise pulls ahead, escaping the shockwave’s path of destruction.
The violent energies recede and vanish, restoring warp space to its natural black state.
EXT. SPACE — STARBASE 104
The Enterprise has returned to Starbase 104, where it has rendezvoused with three Saladin-class destroyers sent to clean up the mess left by the Klingons.
INT. ENTERPRISE/TRANSPORTER ROOM
Kirk, Quloob, and two of Quloob’s subordinates step inside the transporter room. Acknowledging Kyle’s presence at the controls, they cross over to the pad.
CAPT. QULOOB: (cont’d) ... will be upgraded, equipped with new top-of-the-line shields and defenses so something like this doesn’t happen again. Until that time, Starbase 104 is officially decommissioned.
KIRK: An eight-month paid vacation sounds good right about now.
CAPT. QULOOB: Longer than that, perhaps. (beat) Someone up there has found fault with my administration. I’m on indefinite suspension pending review.
KIRK: (frowns) There’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent this atrocity.
CAPT. QULOOB: It’s instinctual, Captain; the undying need to assign blame. Starfleet Command has no legal grounds to take the Klingons to task for what they’ve done here, so I’ve been designated the de facto scapegoat.
KIRK: If anyone should shoulder the guilt, it’s whoever sanctioned this ill-thought-out endeavour.
CAPT. QULOOB: Our races have come a long way in three-million years of evolution, but we still have a long way to go before we finally learn to stop passing the buck along.
Quloob and his men climb atop the transporter pad.
CAPT. QULOOB: Captain?
KIRK: Yes?
CAPT. QULOOB: I have it on good authority that you’re looking for a qualified yeoman….
INT. ENTERPRISE/KIRK’S CABIN
Some time has passed. Kirk now sits at his desk, hopelessly going over the files on his computer console.
The door BUZZES.
KIRK: Come.
The door slides open. There on the other side stands Janice Rand.
KIRK: Hello.
RAND: Hello. (steps inside) I’m here to help with your files?
KIRK: Right over here.
Rising from his chair, he gestures to the console. Striding up to the desk, she takes a gander at the screen then at the captain. Stepping aside, he allows her to take a seat behind his desk. Sinking into the chair, she looks at the displayed information.
RAND: (shocked) Oh! That’s not right!
KIRK: Can you get me out of the hole I’ve dug, or will you have to start all over?
The yeoman doesn’t respond. She’s already hard at work reconfiguring the data.
KIRK: I’m sure you’ll do fine, Yeoman. (leaves desk; halts) Lt. Uhura on the bridge will know how to reach me, if you have any questions.
RAND: Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.
Kirk leaves Rand to her business.
INT. ENTERPRISE/SICKBAY
Kirk and Piper stand at the foot of Mitchell’s bed. Though still very weak, the lieutenant commander has regained consciousness.
PIPER: The wound is healing quite nicely. He should be able to resume active duty within another full week. (smiles) I’d say the prognosis looks good.
KIRK: Thank you, Doctor. (beat) May we be alone for a moment?
PIPER: Certainly.
Dr. Piper makes his departure.
MITCHELL: Folks around these parts've been telling me you blew up a star system.
KIRK: (half-smiles) Thirty-four photon torpedoes reacting with a planet’s worth of nithium will have that result, yes.
MITCHELL: (sighs) I’m just sorry to have missed out on all the action.
KIRK: I’ll tell you what — next time we need a system destroyed, I’ll let you fire the torpedoes yourself.
MITCHELL: Promises, promises….
INT. ENTERPRISE/RECREATION DECK
Kirk now sits alone at a table, playing a game of three-dimensional chess against himself. Deep in concentration, he doesn’t make an effort to acknowledge S'Pock’s presence as the half-Vulcan enters the room and approaches him.
S’POCK: Would the captain oblige me with the answer to a question?
KIRK: (faces S’Pock) Certainly, Mr. S’Pock. I mustn’t put leisure above a consultation with my science officer.
S’POCK: I need only a moment. It is not my intention to take you from you pleasure.
KIRK: Ask away, Mr. S’Pock.
S’POCK: Regarding white to checkmate in three ...
KIRK: I apologize for barging in on your problem.
S’POCK: (cocks eyebrow) Then … white cannot checkmate in three moves?
KIRK: Yes, it can. Did you think I was making a joke?
S’POCK: One can never be certain when a Human is making a joke.
KIRK: Usually we laugh.
S’POCK: Not invariably.
KIRK: No. Not invariably. Still, I wasn’t making a joke.
S’POCK: If the captain will indulge me … your comment has piqued my curiosity.
KIRK: In that case, of course I’ll play out the problem with you.
S’Pock takes a seat on the other side of the table from Kirk. Leaning forward, he rearranges the pieces on the board, perfectly recreating the game he was playing all those days before.
KIRK: Cmdr. S’Pock, I thought Vulcans experienced no emotions. Yet you confess to curiosity.
S’POCK: Curiosity is not an emotion, Captain, but the impetus in the search for knowledge that distinguishes sapient creatures. (beat) Your move, Captain.
Kirk moves his queen’s knight. S’Pock then regards the chessboard, staring at the positions as if he were calculating the effects of every possible move of every piece on the board. Reaching out, the half-Vulcan takes hold of his king and tips it.
S’POCK: I resign.
Kirk studies the science officer. The barest hint of a frown can be made out on the half-Vulcan’s features.
S’POCK: Your move risked your queen and your knights. It was … illogical.
KIRK: But effective.
S’POCK: Indeed. (beat) What method of calculation did you use? Sinhawk, perhaps? Or a method of your own devising?
KIRK: One of my own devising, you might say. I didn’t calculate it, S’Pock. I saw it. Call it intuition, if you like, or good luck.
S’POCK: I do not believe in luck, and I have no experience of … intuition.
KIRK: Nevertheless, that’s my method of calculation.
S’Pock clears the board.
S’POCK: Would you care for a complete game?
The captain nods his assent.
EXT. SPACE
Somewhere out in the void between systems, there is a bright flash of violet light as a subspace portal is wrenched open, spewing a K’t’inga-class battle cruiser out into normal space. It is the Klothos — heavily damaged, powerless, but remarkably intact.
INT. KLOTHOS/BRIDGE
The bridge is in chaos. Several consoles spark and burn, cloying smoke fills the air, and most of the bridge crew float about in the now-zero gravity environment, dead or injured. Kor, one of the few Klingons who escaped serious injury, is seated in his command chair, hands gripped around the chair tightly to keep himself from floating off.
KOR: You owe me a blood debt for this humiliation, Kirk, and I will collect … when circumstances are more propitious for me. (beat) We Klingons have a saying, “BortaS blr jablu’DI reH QaQqu’nay.” In your clumsy Human idiom, “Revenge is a dish best served cold.”
EXT. SPACE
Carried forward on its own momentum, no friction in space to slow its course, the Klothos tumbles end-over-end towards an uncertain fate.
FADE OUT
END CREDITS
21/08/2018
S. D. G.
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Post by Duragizer on Aug 24, 2018 17:33:28 GMT -5
As I mentioned in the OP, "To Boldly Go" was originally meant to be the pilot for a soft reboot/interquel/sidequel of TOS. Though those plans fell through, I'd made plans for a full five seasons. The following's the first of two posts giving an idea of what Star Trek: The Companion Series would've been like. NATURE OF THE REBOOTAs said, this would've been a companion to TOS, so I would've tried telling my stories without overturning too much established continuity. That said, elements I perceived as outdated/silly/bad would've been jettisoned/altered, as the need arose. Also, my faithfulness to canon would've stopped at TOS itself; aside from TWOK, I would've ignored all the movies & spinoffs. Unlike TOS, the Companion Series would've been more serialized in nature, with ongoing story & character arcs. There also would've been a stable of recurring characters. IN THE 23RD 28TH CENTURYThe Federation always felt to me too young, too close in time to our own era, for its level of technological development to be believable. Add to that the 1990s date for the Eugenics Wars, and I felt an older Federation/Federation set further into the future would've been preferable. So I would've relocated the TOS era as far into the future as I could without breaking continuity — the 28th century. Likewise, the Eugenics Wars would've been relocated to the 26th century. HUMANS, NEAR-HUMANS, TRANS-ANIMALS, & ALIENSI was never fond of the TNG episode "The Chase" or its silly "directed panspermia" explanation for why most Trek aliens were rubber forehead aliens. I much preferred the theory expounded in "The Paradise Syndrome", that all these human/rubber forehead aliens were the descendants of Terrans seeded across the galaxy by an advanced alien race. For this series, I would've returned to that older idea. Vulcans, Klingons, Orions, etc. would've been retconned as genetically modified near-human offshoots. Species such as the Saurians, Caitians, Kzinti, etc. would've been retconned as terrestrial animals altered & granted human-level intelligence through genetic engineering, creations of the same aliens who seeded humanity across the stars. Actual aliens — non-humanoid entities like the Horta, Excalbians, Kelvan, etc. — would've made appearances in this series, but their appearances would've been rare. The third season would've been the only season to make regular use of them. VULCANS/ROMULANSThe Vulcans & Romulans were to receive a shared redesign:  As a half-human, Spock would've remained untouched, but all full-blooded Vulcans & Romulans would've received forehead ridges, green skin, "green-in-green" eyes, and even greenish bones & teeth. Because Vulcans/Romulans would've been retconned as human offshoots, their biochemistry & anatomy would've been changed to reflect this. No longer would they have copper-based blood or hearts where their livers should be. Their blood would remain green, but as with green-blooded skinks, this green-ness would be the cause of high biliverdin levels in their bodies. They'd be essentially human otherwise, making sense of their ability to produce viable offspring with Homo sapiens. New aspects of Vulcan culture would've been explored. It would've been revealed that there are Vulcan colonies/individuals who are more liberal in their expression of Surakean philosophy than mainstream Vulcans, or do not follow Surakean philosophy at all. It would've been established that the Romulan Navy is a multi-racial service.
KLINGONSThe Klingons would've been established as eugenicists who maintain a strict caste system. It would've been revealed that there are multiple Klingon subspecies, each with their own distinctive mental & physical traits.  KLINGONS OF THE NOBLE & ROYAL CASTES KLINGONS OF THE WARRIOR CASTE KLINGON OF THE SCIENCE CASTE KLINGON OF THE BERSERKER CASTEAnd many, many more. . . . CHARACTERIZATION & CHARACTER DEVELOPMENTIt would've been revealed that Kirk is a Muslim. It would've been revealed that McCoy is a lapsed Christian whose father had been a minister. It also would've been revealed that he'd been through a divorce and had a daughter, Joanna. It would've been revealed that Uhura was raised a "Surakean Christian". Lt. Kyle & Spock would've been brief love interests of Uhura's. Chekov's fictional brother, Piotr, would've been retconned as a real flesh-&-blood sibling who'd been killed by Klingons prior to his joining the Enterprise. Chekov's bitter hatred towards Klingons would've figured heavily in his character arc. Chekov & Ruan would've become lovers. It would've been revealed that Piper is a homosexual who had been married to a Vulcan man. WEAPONS & TECHNOLOGYThe transporter became too much of a crutch and a deus ex machina, especially once TNG rolled around. That is why in "To Boldy Go", I chose to have transporters operate only when in tandem with other transporters. The disintegration setting would've been removed from phasers. Only disruptors would've been shown with that power. UNIFORMSSEASON 1 COMMISSIONED OFFICERS ENLISTED PERSONNELSEASONS 2-5  EARTHFLEET (MIRROR UNIVERSE)  Only commanding officers & their first officers would've worn command green/gold. Everyone else would've worn blue, beige, red, etc. |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 24, 2018 17:49:28 GMT -5
^^^ Interesting Stuff here and thanks for this information about Star Trek and it's uniforms.
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