chatter6-05
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Star trek Fanzine "Chatter" filled with fan-fiction and articals that any sci-fi geek would find informative!TRANSCRIPT
SUBSPACE
CHATTER
The Official UFPSF
Fifth Fleet Newsletter
A Ready Room Ramblings – A View from the Bridge
A Sci-Fact News
A Fifth Fleet Funnies – Featuring Star Wars Facts
A Sci-Fi & Genre News
A Star Trek: Starfleet Academy – “We’ll Remember Always…”
Volume 6 – Issue 05
February 2014
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 2 A Vol. 06, #05 A
Ready Room Ramblings
A View from the Bridge
Welcome back everyone. Not a whole lot has
happened this past month, so let’s get right into this
month’s issue of Subspace Chatter, the Fifth Fleet
Newsletter.
Congratulations to the following Crew Members
on their upcoming promotions, effective 01
February 2014:
Karen Clark – Promoted to Ables’man (Crewman).
This month’s newsletter issue features a behind the
scenes look at the Facts about Star Wars, or The 19
Facts about Star Wars You Probably Didn’t Know.
Some of the facts have made the rounds over the
decades, others may surprise you.
And this month’s Fifth Fleet story follows several
newly graduated officers from Starfleet Academy
as they travel the long distance to their first deep
space assignments aboard starships of the
Federation Fifth Fleet in “We Remember
Always…” by PJK.
Just to let everyone know, 2014 will see one of the
Fifth Fleet’s periodic ‘Spring Cleanings.’ More
information in coming issues.
Star Trek Birthdays for the month of February;
02 – Brent Spiner (LtCdr Data – TNG)
06 – Nate Johnson (Associate Member)
08 – Ethan Phillips (Neelix – VOY)
14 – Simon Pegg (LtCdr Montgomery
‘Scotty’ Scott – AltST)
16 – LeVar Burton (LtCdr Geordie
LaForge – TNG)
22 – Jeri Ryan (Seven of Nine – VOY)
23 – Majel Barrett Roddenberry (Nurse Christine
Chapel – TOS, Lwaxana Troi – TNG, DS9)
Ahead Warp Five!
~Cap’n Pete
Subspace Chatter – Third Edition
Vol. 06, #05 – February 2014
The UFPSF Fifth Fleet Newsletter
© 2014 Gem Productions
Star Trek and related marks are trademarks of CBS Studios, Inc
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Sci-Fact News
Mystery on Mars:
Scientists baffled after rock suddenly appears out of nowhere in front of Opportunity rover
Opportunity rover hasn’t moved in over a month as it awaits better weather
Photo taken on Jan 8th shows a rock that wasn’t visible in previous images
One theory claims the rock was stuck in the rover’s wheels and fell to its current position
By Ellie Zolfagharifard, from DailyMail.co.uk
17 January 2014
A mysterious Martian rock that appeared in front
of the Opportunity rover within days has left
scientists scratching their heads.
The rover, which landed on Mars in 2004, hasn’t
moved in over a month as it waits for better
weather on the red planet.
But a photo taken on Sol 3540 (January 8th, or the
3,540th Martian solar day since the Opportunity
rover landed) shows a rock that wasn’t visible in
previous photos taken on Sol 3536.
A strange rock, seen here on the left image, mysteriously appeared in front of Opportunity rover in the beginning of
the month. The rover, which landed on Mars in 2004, hasn’t moved in over a month as it waits for better weather on
the red planet.
Astronomers at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in
California, who maintain the rover camera database
for Nasa, have named the ‘doughnut-sized’ rock
Pinnacle Island.
The discovery was revealed by Mars Exploration
Rover lead scientist Steve Squyres in a ‘10 years of
roving Mars’ keynote at Nasa’s Jet Propulsion
Laboratory last night.
Mr Squyres said the rock may be Martian rock that
was blown out of the ground by a meteoroid impact
and landed next to the rover.
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Another theory is that the rock previously got stuck
in a rover wheel and finally fell into its current
position,according to a report in Discovery News.
‘[The rock] obligingly turned upside down, so
we’re seeing a side that hasn’t seen the Martian
atmosphere in billions of years and there it is for us
to investigate,’ Mr Squyres said.
‘It’s just a stroke of luck.’
Opportunity has been on Mars for 10 years, despite
being designed for a 90 Sol mission
A Sol, one Martian day, is slightly longer than an
Earth day at 24 hours and 37 minutes.
Its mission has been extended several times as it
continues to make new and profound discoveries
about the red planet.
In December 2012, for instance mission scientists
announced that Opportunity was exploring a
special spot on the rim of Endeavour Crater.
The area, known as Matijevic Hill, was found to
contain clay minerals, implying that the area was
exposed to water billions of years ago.
= - = - = - = - = - = - =
Opportunity Mars Rover
Opportunity landed on Mars in 2004 in what was to
be a three-month mission. Instead the rover has
lived beyond its prime mission and roved the
planet for nearly 10 years.
The rover is currently at ‘Solander Point’ at the rim
of Endeavour Crater on Mars. The rover hasn’t
moved in over a month as it waits for better
weather on the red planet.
During its time on Mars, the rover has identified
rock laden with what scientists believed to be clay
minerals.
Their presence is an indication that the rock has
been altered at some point in the past through
prolonged contact with water.
Fifth Fleet Funnies
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Sci-Fi & Genre News
In Memoriam: Joseph Ruskin
1924 – 2013
Actor Joseph Ruskin Dies at 89
From TheHollywoodReporter.com
30 December 2013
Joseph Ruskin, a character actor and long-serving
SAG board member, died Dec. 28 from natural
causes at UCLA Medical Center, Santa Monica. He
was 89.
As an actor, he appeared in 25 films and 124
television shows. His notable film appearances
included The Magnificent Seven and Prizzi’s
Honor. His television credits include appearances
on The Twilight Zone, Star Trek and Alias.
Ruskin served on the board of the Screen Actors
Guild from 1976 to 1999, with eight of those years
as the First National Vice President. In 1979, he
became the first Western Regional Vice President
of Actors Equity Association (AEA). Ruskin also
was honored for his service to SAG with the
organization’s Ralph Morgan Award in 2011, and
by AEA with the Lucy Jordan Award in 2003 and
the Patrick Quinn Award in 2013.
The actor studied drama at Carnegie Tech (now
Carnegie-Mellon University) and began his acting
career at the Pittsburg Playhouse and the Rochester
Arena Stage. He returned to theater with
performances at the Mark Taper Forum, UCLA’s
Freud Playhouse and Theater 40. His final
appearance was at the Antaeus Theater Company
this year.
He had a long and distinguished career, appearing
in television series as early as 1959. More recently,
he had a recurring role as Alliance Member Alain
Christophe in J.J. Abrams’s series Alias, as well as
playing an elderly mob boss in Smokin’ Aces,
which featured Chris Pine.
He was born in Haverhill, Mass., graduated from
high school in Cleveland, Ohio, and served in the
Navy during World War II.
Ruskin is survived by his wife, Barbara Greene
Ruskin; daughter, Alicia Ruskin, and son-in-law,
Larry Bucklan; step-daughters Rachel Greene,
Martha Greene and Liza Page.
The many Star Trek faces of Joseph Ruskin:
Joseph Ruskin played characters in every Star Trek
series except Star Trek: The Next Generation.
Galt – TOS episode “The Gamesters of Triskelion”
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Tumek – DS9 episodes “The House of Quark”and
“Looking for par’Mach in All the Wrong Places”
Cardassian Informant – DS9 episode
“Improbable Cause”
Son’a Officer – Star Trek: Insurrection
Vulcan Master – VOY episode “Gravity”
Suliban Doctor – ENT episode “Broken Bow”
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The Force is strong with Marvel as Star Wars returns in comic form By Grae Stafford, from DailyCaller.com
04 January 2014
A short time ago on a website far far away…. it
was revealed that the next generation of Star Wars
comics will be released by Marvel just in time to
tie in with the new Star Wars film to be released in
2015.
Marvel was acquired by the Disney Empire
Corporation, like a Star Destroyer acquires a Rebel
Blockade Runner, in 2009 for $4 billion. While the
purchase may not have come with plans and
technical readouts for a Death Star, it did bring a
stable of well loved and highly profitable comic
book characters such as Iron Man and Captain
America, which have spawned multiple
blockbusters for the Magic Mouse. Disney’s
purchase in 2012 of Lucasfilm brought more
household names like Luke Skywalker, Han Solo
and Darth Vader under the control of the Magic
Kingdom.
Previously, Star Wars comics had been published
by Dark Horse, including the Dark Empire series.
Dark Empire was seen by many fans as central to
the extended universe for including the
introduction of Han and Leia’s third child, Anakin
Solo, and the first look at the Empire’s new super
weapon, the World Devastator.
Speaking without the aid of a human cyborg
relations droid, Carol Roeder, director of Lucasfilm
franchise publishing said, “Dark Horse Comics
published exceptional Star Wars comics for over
20 years, and we will always be grateful for their
enormous contributions to the mythos, and the
terrific partnership that we had.”
“In 2015,” she continued, “the cosmic adventures
of Luke, Han, Leia and Chewbacca will make the
lightspeed jump back to Marvel, to begin a new
age of adventures within the Star Wars universe.”
With the move to Marvel, the circle is now
complete for the Star Wars franchise with Marvel
holding the very first comic franchise from 1977
before the switch to Dark Horse in 1991. Speaking
like a man who had just won a prodigal Jedi child
betting on a pod race, Marvel Worldwide Publisher
and President Dan Buckley said, “We here at
Marvel could not be more excited to continue the
publication of Star Wars comic books and graphic
novels.”
Andrew B. Sugerman, executive vice president of
Disney Publishing Worldwide and a man who
knows that traveling through hyperspace is not like
dusting crops, said, “Bringing together the iconic
Lucasfilm and Marvel brands to tell new stories
will allow us to continue to thrill lovers of the
original Star Wars comic books and entertain
generations to come.”
This reporter has only one thing to say regarding
this announcement. May the Force be with you.
Several Bothans died to bring us this report.
Why Expanded Universes Are Important By Katharine Trendacosta, from io9.com
19 January 2014
Ever since word got out that Disney had decided to
determine the canon-status of everything in the
Star Wars Expanded Universe, there’s been fierce
debate. About whether it’s a good idea. About what
should be kept or not. But to people unfamiliar
with the EU, this announcement has brought the
question: Who cares? Why is it important?
Obviously, Star Wars isn’t the only expanded
universe out there. There are tons of tie-in novels,
comics, games, etc. for many franchises. Like Star
Wars, Star Trek’s characters are preserved most
strongly in numerous books. Buffy and Angel have
gone the comics route, mostly. Doctor Who’s most
famous expanded universe works are the Big
Finish audio dramas. And so on and so forth.
There’s obviously an appetite for works set in
existing universes.
The ensuing reaction to the news from Disney has
had me trying to understand why expanded
universes are so important, why, given that they’re
not canon, they mean anything to fans. The
obvious answer is that, when there’s no new canon
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being released – the time between the end of
Enterprise and the newest Star Trek movies or
Doctor Who’s years off of TV, for example – they
just fill a need. But if that’s all they do, why are
fans still so attached to them? If they’re just filling
a need, the happiness at the announcement of new
canon should trump any sadness at the other stuff
being swept aside.
I thought about this, and every answer I came up
with came back the idea that they act as gateways.
To their genre. To fandom. And to writing.
Grand Admiral Thrawn, by Steve Argyle
The Expanded Universe as a Gateway to Science Fiction Reading
Recently, io9 asked, “Which science fiction classic
is best read before the age of 18?” And while
they’re not necessarily classics, my answer is
almost always the EU. Here’s the thing: everyone
can watch a movie before they can read. They can
watch a TV show or a movie and be fans of them
long before they can read on their own. But once
they can, expanded universes are a ready-made
bridge to reading.
There’s something to be said for name recognition.
For handing a child a book with a character they
already love on the cover. And following that with,
“If you liked that, why not [insert classic of your
choice here]?” It works. I know it works, because it
worked on me.
I don’t owe the fact that I am a science fiction fan
to the EU, but I do owe the fact that I am a science
fiction reader to it. I have an extraordinarily clear
memory of how this happened. I was nine when the
Star Wars Special Editions were released in
theaters. I have no idea if this was the first time I’d
seen Star Wars, but it was what ignited a passion
for it in me. And can recall, with odd clarity, seeing
the Star Wars logo on a book. It was Kevin J.
Anderson’s Jedi Academy Trilogy, and my parents
bought it for me.
This started a reading obsession that lasted years. I
brought them to school. I did a book reporton an
EU novel in fourth grade. I only stopped reading a
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little bit into the Yuuzhan Vong invasion, although
I’ll still pick up a new book by a favorite author or
one that sounds interesting.
From there, it was an easy jump to other science
fiction. Honestly, I can’t even remember much of
what I read before the EU entered my life. I have
vague Nancy Drew-shaped memories. But I know
what came after: I liked Star Wars, so why not try
Dune? But then you also need to read Asimov,
Phillip K. Dick, Heinlein, and so on and so forth. I
can’t say I never would have read these things, but
who knows?
Expanded Universes as Gateways to Fandom
Remember before the Internet? Before “nerd”
culture and pop culture were the same thing? When
ship, slash, and fanfic weren’t words you’d see or
hear in any kind of mainstream discussion? Back
then, if you were a fan who wanted more of your
favorite characters, the tie-ins were pretty much it.
As a kid, getting a book at a library or a store was
pretty easy. Certainly easier than trying to get a
fanzine at that age.
If you had no friends who shared your passion, the
expanded universe allowed you stay engaged in it.
To stay in it, when there weren’t any more books
or movies to wait for. Or if you couldn’t get to a
con. Or if you hadn’t ever heard of a con. It was
simply more of that thing you loved, a step beyond
just engaging with the original work. Fandom isn’t
just a community of people on the Internet, it’s
choosing to actively engage in a work. To argue
about it is fandom, and so is seeking out non-canon
material. (By the way, I’m not saying that being a
fan requires knowing the expanded universe or
being “in” fandom as I’ve defined it. I’m just
saying that expanded universes can facilitate
fandom for people.)
Even with the Internet, I’d argue there’s still an
important place for expanded universes. Fandom
exists in the spaces left by canon. Fanfic, fanart,
meta – they all explore things missing from canon.
Expanded universes occupy a place between canon
and non-canon. It both helps satisfy the desire for
more stories while also making you comfortable
with something that’s not exactly canon.
Any discussion about expanded universes will
eventually run head-first into the question of
canon. The bright-line rule is that anything that
isn’t from the original work isn’t canon. Every
episode of Star Trek is canon. Fanfiction is not
canon.
Expanded universes muddy those waters a bit.
They’re authorized by the owners of the original
works, and therefore have status above fanfiction.
More than that, the authorized works can’t
contradict the material they’re based on. For
example, a Star Trek: Voyager book set during the
show’s run can’t get the ship home. A story like
that would never be authorized. So the books never
contradict canon, so fans can believe they
happened.
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Two other events can make the canon status of
expanded universes slightly confusing. The first is
the relatively new phenomenon of cancelled shows
being continued through them. While it’s pretty
clear that, for example, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Season Eight, is canon, now canon doesn’t just
mean the show. The second is when the original
work adopts something from the expanded
universe. For example, both Sulu and Uhura’s first
names were originally from expanded universe
works, before being made canon in later films. On
a larger scale, the prequel to the 50th Anniversary
special had the Eighth Doctor salute his various
companions. Except, those companions were
created in audio dramas. So now that’s canon. Ish.
Former LucasBooks editor Christopher Cerasi once
explained the canonicity of the EU in a particularly
good way:
The analogy is that every piece of
published Star Wars fiction is a window
into the ‘real’ Star Wars universe. Some
windows are a bit foggier than others.
Some are decidedly abstract. But each
contains a nugget of truth to them. Like
the great Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi
said, ‘many of the truths we cling to
depend greatly on our point of view.’
Why have I just prattled on about something that
almost every fan knows? Because that question of
canon plays heavily into expanded universes as
gateways to fandom.
A lot of being a fan is wanting to know everything.
And when you’ve exhausted the actual material,
the expanded universe is there for you. The fact
that it’s authorized means that there must be
something to it. Again, it fits into what you already
know. It’s believable.
In Doctor Who, for example, the Big Finish audio
dramas were not only authorized, but featured the
same actors from the series voicing their
characters. And Star Wars created a united
universe that actually changed and had a defined
timeline. Despite all the different authors, major
events in one book affected chronologically-later
ones. Han and Leia’s children had the same names
and (roughly) the same personalities, no matter
who was writing them.
Moving from strict canon to the canon-adjacent
makes it easier to appreciate and understand the
forms of fandom that are completely un-tethered
from it. The jump between a bad EU novel and a
good fanfic isn’t that big.
Moreover, the expanded universes also make the
playground for fandom larger. It’s right in the
name: “expanded universe.” A species is shown in
canon, named and described in the expanded
universe, and becomes the basis for a great
fanwork. It gives fans a shared vocabulary.
“Twi’lek” is easier than “the species with the two
tails coming out of their heads. You know, like the
guy who worked for Jabba the Hutt in Return of the
Jedi?”
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Expanded Universes as Gateways to Writers and Writing
This last one kind of ties both previous points
together. Not only do expanded universes act as
gateways to science fiction generally, they also
introduce readers to specific writers. And not only
do expanded universes encourage active
participation with a work, they can also inspire
writers and provide a proving ground for them.
There are people who first found Peter David
through his Star Trek books. Or read her Young
Wizards book because they recognized Diane
Duane’s name from her tie-in novels. How about
Alan Dean Foster? Or, my favorite, Terry Brooks
from his novelization of The Phantom Menace?
And, in terms of writing: I can’t count the number
of times I’ve seen an expanded universe work
derided as being “fanfic.” Because, yeah, expanded
universe writers are often fans of the original work.
Of course they are, they decided to devote
considerable time and effort to produced a work in
a universe not their own, subject to the kind of
approvals an original work wouldn’t face. And this
insult also rests on the classic, erroneous, belief
that all fanfiction is crap.
And yet, there are people who either started writing
in expanded universes or wrote in them very early
in their careers. The things they were fans of
inspired them. A number of the people mentioned
above fall into the latter category – their
bibliographies show that writing in the expanded
universe may not have been their very first works,
but that they started early in their careers.
There’s also the case of Star Trek: Strange New
Worlds, which published ten volumes from 1997-
2008. This was an anthology of short stories, set in
the Star Trek universe, that was explicitly for
“nonprofessional” writers. Anyone could submit
stories, so long as they followed the rules. Broadly,
they disqualified stories with graphic
violence/sadism, major departures from canon, and
explicit sexual activity. A number of these
“nonprofessionals” went on to write for the Star
Trek expanded universe proper and/or to be
published authors in fields unrelated to Star Trek.
And finally, there are the writers that go full circle,
from expanded universe to canon. Steven Moffat’s
Doctor Who short stories count, but Mark Gatiss
wrote Doctor Who novels and audio dramas.
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Conclusion and a Look at Star Wars’ EU
What prompted me to think about all this was Star
Wars. There are a lot of EUs, but they tend to have
names like “Buffyverse” or “Whoniverse.” But the
Star Wars EU is pretty much just “the EU.” That’s
because it was a universe where things happened.
They got approval to do things that other universes
would see as being way too big divergences from
canon. And then all the other writers followed suit.
One writer had Han and Leia get married, and
every book after that accepted it.
The other thing that set the EU apart was its
approach to canon. It was a massive, and pleasant,
surprise that Doctor Who decided to adopt the
Eighth Doctor’s companions from the audio
dramas into canon. But they were under no
obligation to. But, prior to its sale to Disney,
almost nothing in the Star Wars universe was non-
canon. Lucas Licensing actually had a database
tracking continuity and the canon-status of every
element of a story. There were levels of canonicity,
but still: the EU was canon.
Yeah, it’s HUGE and of varying quality. And I
don’t think it was ever in the cards that Disney was
going to make movies that adapted EU stories, but
what people are reacting to is the idea that
suddenly decades of canon’s going to be wiped
away. Not shunted aside or relegated to that quasi-
canon space that all expanded universes live in. At
least in that case, fans could still make arguments
about how the EU was still canon-compliant, the
way they do for other franchises. No, this sounds
like Disney’s going to stamp most of it “not canon”
and throw it away. There’s no reconciling the EU
with the movies if they show Han and Leia with
different children than the ones in the books.
I’d be happy if Disney just kept the names and
basic features of the EU and kept its timeline
vague. Then I could continue to keep parts of the
EU canon in my own head. Otherwise, Disney’s
almost pitting its new movies against the image of
the post-Return of the Jedi universe that fans are
already used to considering canon. That’s a lose-
lose for everyone. That’s the 2009 Star Trek not
giving fans the “alternate universe” out, and just
suddenly erasing everything but Enterprise from
canon.
Expanded universes are important. Outside of
making money for people, fans gain a lot from
their existence. One movie or TV show opens up a
whole genre to someone. Or brings them into
fandom. Or introduces them to authors. Or makes
them authors. That’s why just getting rid of it feels
wrong.
Saturday, 5 May 2390
Stardate 67340.8
Campus of Starfleet Academy
On the grounds of the Presidio, San Francisco, Earth
“…And in conclusion, I recommend you look at the years ahead of you as we have looked at the
depths of space for the last two hundred and thirty years... as a mysterious unknown that you will slowly
uncover, discovering new facets of yourselves as you discover what lies out there; where no one has gone
before! I wish you luck in the years to come. Welcome to the Starfleet family.”
As Vice Admiral Kalin Kale finished his commencement keynote address, the campus Quad filled
with applause. The graduating class, which filled the first twenty rows directly center in front of the stage,
fidgeted nervously as they watched the Academy Commandant thank Admiral Kale for his speech – careful not
to try and shake the Alpha Centauri native’s hand – before taking his place at the podium.
“At this time, I will call the Academy Class of 2390 to the stage to receive their diplomas. Please
proceed across the stage as your name is called. Remember, you will not receive your official first assignment
until tomorrow morning as you begin your check-out process from the Academy. Cadet Class of 2390, atten-
shun!”
All of the roughly one thousand cadets stood in unison. Then the first row turned right-face and started
filing out of the row toward a short ramp and onto the stage, passing in alphabetical order as they were
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congratulated in an appropriate manner by the Academy commandant, superintendent, and senior members of
the faculty before receiving an isolinear optical chip with their Academy records and diploma stored on it and
returning by a second ramp to the grassy Quad and their own respective seats.
Somewhere in the middle of the graduating class, Cadet 1st Class Gem C. Koester waited for her name
to be called. She had not felt so nervous since the day she first arrived on the Academy grounds and was
greeted by her foster ‘sister’ and upperclassman Cassie Koester. Slowly she made her way up onto the stage.
“...Keith Koelling, Security and Tactical College... Briana Koenig, Command College... Gem C.
Koester, College of Sciences... Kofler Jin, College of Engineering...,” called out the officer reading the list of
names. Koester moved forward across the stage, receiving the congratulations of first the Commandant, then
the Superintendent. Finally she reached Admiral Kale, who looked at her approvingly.
“Congratulations, Ensign Koester,” he said, the first to address her by her new official rank as he
replaced her cadet’s insignia with the single square pip of a Starfleet officer. “Don’t disappear after the
ceremony. I have a communiqué from your father I need to give you.”
“Thank you, Admiral,” Koester replied, almost offering her hand before remembering protocol and
moving on, making room for the next former-cadet to receive their rank insignia.
After the graduation ceremony ended and the Quad was filled with the joyous cries of celebration from
the newly-graduated officers and the crowd started dissipating, Koester remained near her seat.
“Hey, Gem! I mean, Ensign Koester!” said Ensign Barbara Goff, one of her closest friends throughout
the four years she had attended the Academy. “You coming? Some of us are having a celebratory get-together
down at the Fog Harbor Fish House!”
“I’ll be along soon,” Koester promised. “One of the VIPs wanted to meet with me after the
ceremony.”
A look of concern appeared on Goff’s face as she asked, “You’re not in trouble, are you?”
“No,” Koester reassured. “Admiral Kale just has a message from my father.”
“Oh!” Goff said, realizing that none of her friend’s family had been in attendance for the graduation
ceremony due to their Starfleet commitments. “Well, I’ll save a seat for you.”
“Okay. See you soon,” Koester said, waving as her friend rushed across campus to catch up with
several other new officers and their families.
A moment later, Koester saw Admiral Kale approach from behind the stage. He again offered his
congratulations as he handed her a padd.
“The communiqué from your father is on there,” the admiral said. “And I know you’re not supposed
to find out what your first assignment is until tomorrow, but I made sure your orders are on there too. I
remember not being able to sleep the entire night after my graduation wondering where I was going to be sent
before receiving my orders to the original Arcturus.”
Koester looked at the deactivated padd she was holding before looking up at the taller admiral again.
“Do you know where I’m going?” she asked.
“Yes, I do,” Kale replied without saying anything more on the subject. “Good luck in your future
career, Ensign. I’m sure we’ll meet again. I’ll be following your career with great interest.” Kale then nodded
his head in greeting and turned to leave. Koester watched the Centauri man walk away, then sat down in the
nearest seat, staring at the padd in her hands for nearly a minute. Finally she pressed the activation button and
the screen came to life, displaying the names of more than a hundred recorded files. Having only expected her
father’s communiqué, she was surprised by the number of messages. She touched the screen to activate the first
message. To her relief, an image of her father, Fleet Captain Peter J. Koester – commanding officer of the Fifth
Fleet flagship USS Dauntless – appeared.
“Congratulations, Sweetie... I mean...” The elder Koester’s face took on a more formal expression.
“...Ensign Koester.” Again he appeared to relax as the message continued, “Honestly, Sweetie, I wish I could
have been there with you today. But as you are about to learn first-hand, a life in Starfleet doesn’t always allow
us to be at the place or do the things we occasionally want to do. But know that you are in my thoughts today –
more-so than most – and that I’m with you there in spirit. And that I’m very, very proud of you. Now, you’re
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 19 A Vol. 06, #05 A
probably wondering what all the rest of the files Admiral Kale gave you are. When I mentioned I was
transmitting my well-wishes to you, a good portion of the Dauntless crew wanted to get in on the act. There are
probably also a few from Admiral Raiajh and the crew aboard Starbase 719, since my communiqué had to pass
through there en route to Earth, as well as a couple of the other Fifth Fleet vessels. Just know – even if you
don’t hear specifically from everyone – that we all wish you the very best and look forward to seeing you out
our way... someday. You know where to find me, so make sure you send me a communiqué at least once a
week. And always remember that I love you, Sweetie. I won’t keep you much longer, I’m sure you want to go
out and celebrate with your friends. But again, congratulations. Dauntless, out.”
The screen went blank, then returned to the menu of files. Koester noticed some were from her very
best friends aboard the Dauntless; Counselor Tanzia Gera, Lieutenant Aroe Euwess, the COB Pono Kyman,
even Ensign Five. There were also messages from Admiral Raiajh, Captain Pearson, Colonel McIntyre, and her
own step-mother Commander Michelle Petersen from Starbase 719 and even one from Captain K’danz of the
Bellerophon. Koester could not help but wonder with a smile how many of her fellow graduates were receiving
messages of congratulations from so many high-ranking Starfleet officers as she was that day.
Finally, at the bottom of the list she located her first official set of orders. She considered ignoring it
for the moment, heading out into town to meet her friends at Fisherman’s Wharf, but curiosity got the better of
her.
She touched the screen, opening the file, and started to read it to herself aloud.
“Due to the distances involved, you are authorized only fifteen days leave after graduation. Report to
Starfleet Command in San Francisco, North America, Earth no later than stardate 67381.9 for transport to the
Typhon Sector. You are assigned to the USS Bellerophon NCC-74705, currently assigned to the Fifth Fleet area
of responsibility, as a junior officer in the sciences division. Upon arrival, report to Lieutenant Commander
T’Var, Chief Science Officer.”
Koester stared at the orders. Her first deep space assignment. And you could not get much deeper in
space than the Fifth Fleet AOR! Her emotions were mixed. She was a little disappointed to learn for certain
that she would not be returning to the Dauntless, but at the same time a little relieved that she would not be
serving directly under her own father – imagining the conflicts such a posting could potentially cause. But
mostly relieved to know she would still be serving in the Fifth Fleet aboard a ship whose commander and senior
officers she was mostly familiar with, and K’danz had been like a member of her own family for as long as she
could remember.
Satisfied for the moment, Koester deactivated the padd and walked off across campus. If she hurried,
she might just be able to catch up to Ensign Goff and the others before they reached the cable car that would
take them to the Embarcadero.
Space, the Final Frontier...
Star Trek: Starfleet Academy
“We’ll Remember Always...” By PJK
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 20 A Vol. 06, #05 A
Stardate 67378
0800 Hours
Starfleet Command Headquarters
San Francisco, Earth
Ensign Gem C. Koester had cut her leave short by a day in order to make sure her transfer to her first
deep space assignment would go smoothly. She had spent the prior two weeks mainly visiting old friends she
had known from school during the years she lived with her grandparents on Earth during the Dominion War and
the brief period her father had retired from Starfleet almost a decade earlier, then they had lived in Tycho City
on the moon.
Now here she was, the majority of her worldly possessions backed in the duffle bag she was carrying
in her left hand, walking into the lobby of Starfleet Command to begin her new life and career. It would have
seemed daunting if not for the years of her youth she had spent living aboard her father’s starships.
“Can I help you, Ensign?” a chief petty officer sitting at the main desk asked at her approach.
Koester passed a small padd which now contained her official orders across the desk and said, “Ensign
Koester reporting for transport to the Typhon Sector to join my assigned vessel.”
“I see,” said the chief as he accepted Koester’s orders. “Congratulations on your recent graduation and
assignment, Ensign.” The chief activated the padd and studied the orders displayed there for a moment.
“Assigned to the Bellerophon. Again, congratulations. I’ve heard a lot of good things about that ship.”
“Thank you, Chief,” Koester replied.
The chief entered Koester’s information into the computer, then checked scheduling and reservations
before adding another chip to the padd and passing it back to the new officer.
“You are scheduled to depart from the main hanger downstairs at 0830 hours on Monday. There are
going to be five other new officers from your graduating class heading out to various ships ported at Starbase
719, and none of the others have reported in yet. I hate to tell you this, but you’re going to have to wait around
until they all come back from leave.”
“No problem.”
“Your padd has all the information you’ll need on the ship that will be taking you out to the Typhon
Sector, your stopping points along the way, and where you can stay here in Frisco until you depart Monday.”
“Stopping points? Plural?”
“Yes,” the chief replied as Koester activated the padd and looked at her routing. “Due to the distance
involved, you’re going to be stopping for a few days each at Starbases 10 and 718 before you finally reach the
Typhon Sector. You’ll be traveling aboard the Nash to get there. She’s a good ship, but a little slow by modern
standards. It’s going to take you about eight weeks before you finally reach your starship.”
“Eight weeks!” Koester exclaimed in shock.
“Think of it as breaking-in time to get used to a ship-board Starfleet routine,” the chief suggested,
unaware she had spent many years living such a routine aboard the Dauntless.
The conversation was interrupted by a soft voice from behind Koester saying, “Hi, Gem.” Koester
turned around to see fellow recent graduate Kestra Brooks standing there, also carrying a Starfleet-issue duffle
bag. “I heard you were going to the Bellerophon too,” the Betazoid ensign said. “Maybe we can be
roommates?”
Koester liked the slightly-odd Brooks since working closely with her during their mutual training
cruise aboard the USS Sarek during their third year at the Academy, but there was still something about the soft-
spoken Betazoid that nagged at her. Being polite, she replied, “Perhaps, but I don’t think that will be up to us.”
Like Koester, Ensign Brooks presented her orders to the Chief Petty Officer, who likewise processed
them and handed her back amended files. He then told the pair they had free time until 0700 on Monday. The
pair turned toward the door to check into the nearby transient lodging before figuring out how to spend their
free weekend – perhaps the last free weekend either would be seeing for many years.
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 21 A Vol. 06, #05 A
* * * *
Following a weekend where both new officers basically relaxed – unwilling to over-exert themselves
or risk injury partaking in any potentially dangerous activities and not knowing exactly what to expect once
they boarded the Nash – the pair took the escalator down to the tram station beneath Command Headquarters
early Monday morning. There they found three other former classmates, two other humans and a very dark
blue-skinned Andorian wearing the uniform of a Starfleet Marine with the rank of 2nd
Lieutenant on his chest,
awaiting transport out to the Typhon Sector and the vessels of the Federation Fifth Fleet.
“CADETS! Drop and give me TWENTY!” a voice shouted from behind them. Reacting immediately,
all of the new officers except Brooks dropped to the deck and started performing push-ups, only stopping when
they heard the raucous laughter.
“Don’t you love when they’re just out of the Academy?” a young lieutenant said to his companion,
who was laughing so hard he almost could not breathe. Koester moved over to Brooks, who had remained
standing the whole time, and whispered in her ear.
“How come you didn’t react out of instinct?”
“I sensed the lieutenants coming over and knew what they were going to do,” Brooks replied.
Koester rolled her eyes, then picked up her duffle bag again and joined the others around the two
lieutenants.
“I’m Lieutenant Marks. This is Lieutenant (JG) Velez,” the older of the two said as he introduced
himself and his companion. “We’re assigned to the USS Nash, and we’ll be transporting you to Starbase 719
via stops at Starbase 10 for three days and Starbase 718 for five days along the way. Any questions?”
“What will we be doing aboard the Nash?” Ensign Malcolm Albach, an environmental engineer,
asked. “I mean, it’s not like we’re going to be confined to quarters for the whole trip, right?”
Marks looked at Velez with another grin and remarked, “Don’t you love when the newbies either
didn’t bother to read their transport orders or just can’t comprehend them?” He then looked at Albach and
answered, “As the transport orders that were amended to your official transfer from the Academy to your new
assignments state, until you reach Starbase 719 you all are officially TAD to the Nash. Welcome aboard,
crew!”
“TAD?” 2nd
Lieutenant Thalev Shras whispered to Koester.
“Temporary assigned duty,” Koester clarified.
“Oh,” the Andorian man said.
“Grab your gear and let’s go!” Velez shouted to the assembled group, pointing toward a Type-8
shuttlecraft that sat in one of the upper level hanger decks. “The sooner we get you aboard the ship, the sooner
you can be stripping and waxing the decks!”
“He’s kidding, right?” Shras asked Koester as everyone hefted their duffle bags and started moving
toward the shuttlecraft. “After all, we’re officers now.”
“Normally I would say yeah, he’s kidding, but with these two I’m not so sure,” Koester remarked.
* * * *
The first leg of the voyage to Starbase 719 went smoothly. In spite of the friendly ribbing the five new
officers received from the more-established members of the Nash’s crew, Koester and the other recent graduates
found the voyage to Starbase 10 informative and relatively relaxing as they were blended into the Nash’s
regular crew and qualified to stand watches in their respective departments – though Koester found herself more
often assigned to the small transport ship’s helm as there was little for a science officer to do aboard the
relatively tiny starship. And since the first leg of their voyage would take place well within the established
territory of the United Federation of Planets, the new crew members had very little to worry about in regards to
the Nash encountering some unexpected situation or vessel-wide emergency, allowing the new officers to get
comfortable in their new positions and new responsibilities.
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 22 A Vol. 06, #05 A
It was eight days after departing Earth that the Nash finally reached Starbase 10, one of the
Federation’s oldest continuously-operated starbases.
“On final approach to orbit,” Ensign Gem Koester reported from the helm console.
“Standard orbit, Ensign,” Commander Dalton Foxwell, the Nash’s commanding officer ordered.
“Standard orbit, aye,” Koester responded as she entered the commands into the transport’s old-style
helm and navigation console.
Commander Foxwell turned almost completely around to look at Ensign Brooks at the operations
console and ordered, “Hail the starbase, Ensign. Make sure they know we’re going to need re-supply before we
depart on the next leg of our voyage.”
“I’ll tell them, Captain,” Brooks replied in an almost sing-song manner. In the just over a week since
leaving Earth, the small regular crew of the Nash had gotten used to Brooks’ idiosyncrasies, otherwise
Commander Foxwell would have questioned her sobriety on watch.
“Any of you ever visit Starbase 10 before?” he then asked both Brooks and Koester.
“I don’t think so,” Brooks replied vaguely.
“Not that I can remember, though the Dauntless may have made a visit when I was very young,”
Koester answered, not able to remember half the places her father had taken her prior to his short retirement
from the fleet.
“Well, we’re going to be here for three days at least,” Foxwell said. “I advise you beam down for at
least a few hours and visit the base’s historic district. Some of the older original buildings here are close to a
hundred and fifty years old.”
“Sounds like it could be fun,” Koester remarked as she eased the Nash into standard orbit over the
starbase.
“Sounds tedious,” added Brooks, prompting looks from both Foxwell and Koester.
A couple of hours later, Koester and Brooks had been relieved of the watch and headed toward the
small cabin they shared.
“What do you want to do tonight?” Koester asked her companion.
“I thought we were going down to the base tonight?”
Koester looked at her friend and fellow officer with a curious expression as she asked, “From what you
said while we were on the bridge, I didn’t think you were interested in going down to the base.”
“You mean the Captain is giving us an option?”
Even more confused, Koester asked, “What do you mean?”
“I thought when the Captain said we should go visit the historic district of the starbase that it meant it
was something we are required to do.”
“He was only making a suggestion, Kestra.”
“Are you sure? When our professors and instructors suggested we read an extra chapter of stellar
dynamics or suggested we visit the Fleet Museum to witness the evolution of warp drive for ourselves, or
suggested we participate in the cadet marathon, it was expected we would do it and bad things would happen if
we did not.”
“Kestra, you spent far too long at the Academy,” Koester said with a chuckle. “C’mon, let’s get
changed and beam down. Maybe we can find someplace that serves better food than the replicators here aboard
ship can produce.”
“Food is good,” Brooks agreed. “Can I leave my boots on the ship?”
“No, Kestra,” Koester replied.
* * * *
An hour later Ensigns Koester and Brooks and Lieutenant Shras materialized in one of Starbase 10’s
administration buildings. They stepped outside, where what had originally been streets were now broad
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 23 A Vol. 06, #05 A
walking promenades with shops, restaurants, and several bars lining each side. Works of art were on display
sporadically along the center of the walkways, and tall towers containing offices overlooked the landscape.
“This is really very impressive,” Brooks commented, looking around at the architecture. “For being so
old.” Again Koester rolled her eyes.
“Where do you want to eat?” Shras asked the pair of females.
“Lieutenant Velez recommended a place about a block over to the east,” Koester said. “Told me it’s
actually a Pub, but they serve the best traditional Irish food in the quadrant – and not to miss the desserts.”
As the trio started walking in the direction Koester had indicated, Brooks asked, “What is the point in
coming all the way out here to Starbase 10 to eat Irish food, Gem? Couldn’t we have done that in Ireland back
on Earth?”
“It’s not the same, Kestra,” Koester said as they walked.
“You’re right. In Ireland on Earth it would actually be real Irish food. Not something they made all
the way out here and simply call Irish food,” Brooks pointed out, an argument Koester found she could not
counter.
Moments later the three young officers entered the Purple Shamrock Pub and found seats at one of the
tables near the center of the room. The pub itself was decorated with very dark – almost black – course woods
and had a long traditional bar against one wall with a large mirror behind it. A sign near the entry door claimed
the entire pub interior had been painstakingly shipped piece by piece from Ireland on Earth, but it was obvious
even to the newly-minted ensigns that the interior had been decorated with wood native to the planet on which
the starbase had been built, as the color and texture was unlike any wood grown on Earth. After a waiter took
the trio’s food and drink orders, they could not help overhearing the conversation at an adjacent table.
“It was the strangest thing,” one of the men at the other table said. “They towed the freighter into orbit
this morning. The whole crew was still aboard, but not a one of them could operate the ship.”
“How did they get that far out into space if they didn’t know how to operate a space vessel?” his friend
asked.
“No, you don’t understand,” the first man said. “I knew several of the people on that crew. They’ve
been making the Starbase 10 – Andor – Vulcan run for ten years! They could have made this run in their sleep!
And they were operating at peak efficiency when they departed the base two days ago!”
“Well then, what happened? Did the ship somehow break down?”
“No, the freighter itself is completely intact. All systems operating normally. It was the crew. They
couldn’t remember anything!”
“They couldn’t remember what happened to them?”
“No, they can’t remember anything at all! According to the base doctors that examined them once
they were towed back into port, their minds are a complete blank! It’s like someone or something ERASED
them!”
“That is strange,” the second man agreed.
Brooks noticed Koester listening to the conversation. She leaned over toward Koester and whispered
at her, “That’s rude.”
“It just sounds like something interesting happened just before we got here,” Koester explained. “I
wouldn’t mind finding out more about it.”
About that time, the two men who had been talking got up and left just as the three ensigns food
arrived – Koester enjoying Bangers and Mash, Shras a cold salad, and Brooks a simple hamburger, having
refused to partake in what she called ‘imitation cuisine.’ Following dinner, the trio ordered dessert and were
soon back out walking the wide thoroughfares of the starbase.
Brooks – who was still attempting to finish what the Purple Shamrock called a Comet; a frozen
confection hanging by a string from a stick she was holding – was having trouble keeping her dessert still
enough to bite as the three young officers walked and conversed.
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 24 A Vol. 06, #05 A
“My food is problematic,” she remarked as the Comet hit her in the nose once again before bouncing
away. Ignoring the present entertainment value of her shipmate, Koester returned to the topic overheard in the
pub.
“Do you suppose what happened to that freighter crew might have been caused by some alien disease
or something?” she asked Shras.
“Maybe you should go to the base hospital and just ask?” Brooks suggested, ignoring her twirling treat
for a moment.
Koester looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Maybe I will.”
* * * *
The next morning, Ensign Koester received permission from Commander Foxwell to beam down to
the starbase. She entered the starbase’s hospital and walked up to the information station. “Good morning,”
she said to the orderly sitting behind the desk. “I’m a science officer aboard a ship visiting the base, and I heard
something about a recent incident where the crew of a civilian ship somehow lost all their memories?”
The orderly gave Koester a ‘Why are you bothering me?’ look before saying, “Are you an immediate
family member of any of the people involved?”
“No, I just...”
“All information regarding patients which I cannot either confirm or deny are even being treated here
is restricted.” The orderly flashed a wide mock smile and added, “Have a nice day.”
Koester sighed and turned away from the desk. Halfway back to the main entrance, she was
approached by a doctor that had been passing through the lobby.
“Excuse me, Ensign.” Koester paused and looked at the doctor. The doctor glanced in the direction of
the information desk, noting the orderly posted there was back to reading a news article from a padd. He then
pulled Koester to the side of the lobby and said, “I couldn’t help but overhear you were inquiring about the crew
of the freighter Sunspot?”
“Yes, but...”
The doctor looked around again, then pulled Koester into an open consultation room and closed the
door.
“What is your interest in the Sunspot?” Koester, unsure if she was in trouble or not, decided to simply
tell the truth.
“I heard a rumor yesterday evening that the ship had to be towed back here to Starbase 10 and that the
whole crew has had their minds wiped. I’m a science officer aboard the visiting USS Nash, and when I heard
that story I wanted to find out more, like was it due to some disease or something my crew should be concerned
about?”
“This is off the record, Ensign,” the doctor said. “What you heard was – for the most part – true. The
minds of the Sunspot’s crew are complete blanks. And they’re not the only ones. There have been two other
ships discovered in the sector in the past six weeks whose crews exhibit the same condition! Their autonomic
nervous systems are working normally, so they’re breathing and blinking their eyes and such, but neural scans
indicate all their memories, their personalities, everything that makes them the individuals they were is gone.
We’ve run several tests on them so far, and we’re still not sure if the condition is temporary or permanent. We
don’t even know if the crews can re-learn their lost knowledge or if they’re fated to be in a vegetative state for
the remainder of their lives!”
“Any idea what could have caused it?” Koester asked. “Maybe some kind of virus or disease?”
“Nothing we have been able to detect. Their bodies – with the exception of their minds – are perfectly
healthy. No, we have reason to believe some form of technology was used to wipe these people.”
“Really? What reasons?”
“First of all, the ship was stopped dead in space when it was found. The crew would have had to bring
it to a stop, and there was no reason to do that unless they encountered something. Secondly, an investigations
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 25 A Vol. 06, #05 A
team sent aboard the ship detected traces of an alien DNA that didn’t match any of the crew or any members of
the rescue and recovery teams, and we have nothing like it in the database. I believe the Sunspot stopped either
to render aid or because it was forced to and the crew were deliberately attacked and their minds wiped.”
“But why?” Koester asked. “What purpose would that serve?”
“Perhaps they witnessed something they weren’t supposed to see?” the doctor suggested. “Starbase 10
is very close to the Neutral Zone. Maybe the Romulans – or Romsu, or whatever they’re calling themselves this
week – crossed the border and did not want their incursion reported. Don’t the Romulans have some sort of
mind-ripping technology?”
“The Klingons have what they call a mind-sifter, and the technology may have been shared with the
Romulans at some time in the past, though I don’t know if it can do what you have described happened to the
crew of the Sunspot.”
“Personally I don’t think the hospital should be keeping this incident a secret. The more people know
about it, the better prepared they will be if they should encounter whatever caused it, but the hospital admin and
the base command has decided to keep this quiet. If you hear anything more about it, Ensign, let us know.
Anything that might help recover the knowledge and memories these people have lost.”
“I will, Doctor. Thank you,” Koester said before slipping out of the consultation room and out the
front doors unobserved.
* * * *
Cadet’s... er... Ensign Koester’s personal log, stardate 67416.3:
The Nash is once again underway, this time on course toward Starbase 718 in Sector
Z-6. I was unable to learn anything more about the mysterious incident involving the
Sunspot before we departed Starbase 10, but you can be sure I’ll be keeping an eye
out for any related information that may come in through the news feeds and
subspace communiqués.
“Helm, status?” Commander Foxwell asked as he entered the bridge and took his seat in the captain’s
chair.
“Steady as she goes on course 350 mark 2, ahead warp factor five,” Ensign Koester reported from her
watch station at the helm. “Engineering reported a slight intermix imbalance in the port warp nacelle, but
engineer Jann is working on correcting it.”
“Very well. Estimated time until we reach...?”
“Captain, we’re receiving what I think is a distress call,” Ensign Brooks cut in. “It’s from a civilian
vessel that departed Starbase 10 about twelve hours before we did.”
“Bearing and distance?” Foxwell inquired.
“Bearing 266 mark 8, distance one-quarter light year from our current position, Captain,” Barc, the
Nash’s Tellarite chief security officer reported after quickly consulting his instruments. “That’s about six hours
at warp six.”
“Any other vessels closer?” the captain asked.
“We’re the closest,” Barc replied. “Next closest vessel is two hours behind us.”
“Very well. Helm, come left to course 266 mark 8. Increase speed to warp seven.”
“Warp seven will put a strain on our engines, Captain,” Koester advised. “The Nash isn’t exactly
young.”
“Understood. Warp seven, Ensign.”
“Coming left to new course 266 mark 8, increasing speed to warp seven. ETA to origin of distress call
is three point six hours.”
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 26 A Vol. 06, #05 A
Foxwell turned around to look at Brooks and said, “Tell them we’re on our way.”
“Yes, Captain,” Brooks replied in her sing-song fashion.
* * * *
Three and a half hours later, the Nash approached the origin of the distress call.
“Captain, short range sensors are reading a passenger transport dead ahead. Systems are operating, but
the vessel is currently at dead-stop. No forward propulsion,” Lieutenant Barc reported. “No other vessels
within short-range sensor detection range.”
“Life signs?”
Koester, who had moved over to the bridge’s small science console and was replaced at the helm by
Brooks, scanned the vessel before reporting, “Detecting fifty life-form readings. Mainly human but a handful
of Andorian, Vulcan, Betazoid, and Efrosian mixed in.”
“Mister Barc, hail the transport vessel,” Foxwell ordered.
“Already attempted to hail them, Captain. No response.”
Foxwell looked around at those on the bridge. He then sighed before saying, “I guess our new officers
are going to be seeing a little bit of life in Starfleet sooner than expected. Mister Koester, Mister Barc, report to
the transporter room.” He then tapped his combadge as he added, “Lieutenant Shras, Mister Jann, Doctor
Sofek, meet in the transporter room for away team duty in five minutes.” The captain then looked around the
bridge once more, shrugged his shoulders, and said, “Mister Brook, you have the conn until I get back.”
Brooks eyes grew as wide as saucers, but she dutifully placed the helm into computer control and
moved toward the captain’s chair, staring at the seat as if it might bite her if she got too close before building up
the nerve to actually sit in it.
* * * *
Six transporter beams materialized in the main cabin of the transport ship. The layout of the ship was a
cross between a passenger ferry and an early 21st century airliner with rows of passenger seats along the outer
bulkheads with a small round window near each row and chairs and lounge seats around small tables near the
center of the cabin.
As the away team spread out, they noticed many of the seats were occupied, but right away they could
tell something was wrong. None of the passengers reacted in any way to the away team’s arrival. Some of
them looked in the Nash crew’s direction with what could be described as mild curiosity, but no one spoke, no
one gestured, and no one got out of their seats to approach any of the new arrivals.
“We’re from the USS Nash,” Commander Foxwell said to those nearest him. “We received your
distress call. What happened here?”
Foxwell waited patiently for a response – any response – that did not come. Finally he looked at Barc
and said, “Lieutenant, access the cockpit and evaluate the situation there. Doctor Sofek...”
“Yes, Captain,” the Vulcan medical officer responded.
“Work with Ensign Koester. See if you can figure out what is wrong with these people.”
“Aye, Captain,” the doctor replied before looking at Koester. “Come with me, Ensign.”
As Sofek and Koester walked away and began to examine the closest passengers, Lt Barc returned.
“Cockpit is completely intact. The flight crew is in there, but they’re no different than the passengers
out here. It’s like they’re brain-dead or something. No reaction from them what-so-ever.”
“What happened here?” Foxwell asked in frustration.
A few meters away, Dr. Sofek was expressing the same frustration.
“I can find nothing wrong with these people that would explain their current state,” he said as he
scanned several of the passengers with his medical tricorder.
“Doctor,” Koester started to suggest. “Can you use that to scan their brains?”
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 27 A Vol. 06, #05 A
“To a degree, Ensign. Why?”
“I heard about something that happened to a freighter crew while we were at Starbase 10 that sounded
a lot like this. The crew of that ship had somehow had their minds wiped.”
Sofek changed the settings of his tricorder, then scanned the nearest passenger – another Vulcan male
– again.
“You’re quite right, Ensign. I’m not detecting any of the usual brain wave patterns. This man’s
knowledge and memories are gone!” He moved to scan the next passenger, adding a moment later, “This
woman too. I’m positive if I scanned every passenger aboard this vessel aside from the away team, they would
all exhibit the same loss of brain wave activity.” He then approached Commander Foxwell and informed him
of their discovery.
“What do you suggest we do, Doctor?” Foxwell asked.
“There is nothing we can do, Captain. Not here at least. My recommendation would be to contact
Starbase 10 and have them send a ship to retrieve this vessel. Perhaps the medical staff back at the base can
help them somehow?”
“Will they be alright if we just leave them here like this?”
“Well, they’ve probably been in this state since just after we received their distress call about four
hours ago, so it’s likely they’re at least starting to feel hungry, though in their present state they probably don’t
realize what that sensation in their stomach means. I’ll inject them all with a nutritional supplement that should
tide them over for 12 to 18 hours, then we can just return to the ship until a tow vessel arrives from the base to
take them back.”
“Very well. You have enough of the needed injections in your medkit that we can lend you a hand?”
Foxwell asked.
“I can have the Nash beam over a few more hypospray kits. We can have this done in just a few
minutes,” the doctor said before activating his combadge and contacting sickbay back aboard his ship.
* * * *
Several hours later, the away team was back aboard the Nash.
“Captain, Starbase 10 reports they have diverted a ship capable of towing the transport vessel to our
location. They should arrive within a few hours,” Brooks reported as both Foxwell and Koester entered the
bridge and the young ensign vacated the center seat.
“Thank you, Ensign,” the captain said as he sat down and pressed a control on the arm of his chair.
“Captain’s log, star...”
A severe buzzing noise followed by several snaps cut off the captain’s log entry. He looked at Brooks,
who was again staring wide-eyed at him, as he said, “The ship’s getting old and needs some systems upgrades.”
“Clearly,” Ensign Brooks replied.
Foxwell then turned to Koester and said, “Ensign, there’s an old portable electronic log book stored in
that locker over there.” He pointed toward a small door near the back corner of the bridge with a tiny window
near the top. “Could you find it and bring it out?”
“Aye, Captain,” Koester said agreeably, stepping over to the locker and opening the door. To her
surprise, the locker was more like a walk-in closet with both loose and boxed items lining the many shelves,
stored there and probably forgotten over the Nash’s many decades of service. Koester stepped inside, allowing
the locker door to close behind her, and started wondering what a portable electronic log book would look like
and where someone might store one. Meanwhile, on the bridge, Lt Barc was reacting to something his sensors
had detected.
“Captain, I’m registering some kind of dimensional shift, about five hundred meters off the starboard
bow.”
“On screen,” Foxwell ordered. A moment later the main viewscreen displayed what looked like a
saucer shaped spacecraft that had not been there before. “What the...? Where in hell did that come from?”
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 28 A Vol. 06, #05 A
“Not sure, Captain,” Barc said. “It just suddenly...”
Without warning, the Nash shuddered abruptly.
“Captain, that ship just locked some sort of tractor beam on us! Beam is disrupting primary systems,
including shields and weapons.”
Foxwell spun to face Brooks, who had returned to the operations console. “Ensign! Transmit an
emergency distress call! Now!”
Brooks turned to her console and tried to comply with the captain’s orders, but was unsuccessful.
“It looks like the tractor beam is disrupting subspace communications too, Captain,” she reported, a
look of worry on her face.
As Brooks spoke, a shimmer appeared in the air in the middle of the bridge, and several aliens stepped
out of it. They were small, only one and a quarter meters tall. Their skin was grey in color and they were
completely hairless with large black almond-shaped eyes. They pointed devices that looked like wands at each
member of the Nash’s bridge crew, and beams of light appeared out of the tips. Within seconds, ever member
of the crew were frozen in place – conscious and awake but unable to move. The alien intruders then started
moving around, some heading to other areas of the Nash, others approaching the bridge crew.
* * * *
Ensign Koester picked herself up off the deck, picking up the large book-like object that had fallen off
an upper shelf and hit her in the head when the Nash had rocked unexpectedly. She looked at the device in her
hand, a metal box with a hinged lid that said USS NASH – SHIP’S LOG on the cover.
“Oh, that’s what a portable electronic log book looks like,” she remarked to herself as she felt the
slight swell on her head and cringed in pain. She then turned to bring the book out to the captain and find out
what had caused the ship to lurch like it had when she happened to glance out the small window in the door. To
her shock, several grey aliens were walking around the bridge, attaching what looked like headbands to each
member of the crew.
“What’s going on?” she asked herself, noticing the aliens appeared to be talking amongst themselves in
a strange language she could not comprehend. “What do I do? What can I do?” Koester then started looking
around the locker, hoping to find something she could either use to communicate with other members of the
Nash crew in the hopes of getting a distress signal out or protect herself with.
* * * *
“(Commander, we are nearly finished with our preparations,)” A’Aungan said to his leader.
“(Very good. How many are we loading to our database this time?)” Argoic asked.
“(Twenty four. This ships records indicated the crew was twenty, but we found four others not listed.)”
“(This crew’s record-keeping appears to be not as efficient as the last vessel we encountered where we
loaded fifty into the database. Inform me when the data load is ready. I am returning to our vessel.)”
“(Yes, Commander.)”
The alien commander touched a device on the lower arm of his clothes and the shimmer appeared in
the air at the center of the bridge again. Argoic stepped into the shimmer and promptly disappeared as the rest
of his crew prepared to transfer the knowledge and memories of their latest victims to their database aboard
their own ship.
* * * *
It took Koester several minutes to locate anything useful in the storage locker as she tried to search as
quietly as possible in order not to give away her hiding place. Her search had revealed a nearly thirty-year-old
hand phaser – the kind the cadets at the Academy referred to as old ‘Dustbuster’ models for some reason – and
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 29 A Vol. 06, #05 A
a tricorder of a slightly more recent vintage. It was obvious from her brief observations of the alien invaders
that they did not possess any similar sensing devices, or she would have easily been found, and it was only the
fact that the small window in the door was higher than the tallest of the small aliens that prevented them from
simply looking in and seeing her.
Koester looked out the small window once more and noticed the aliens had finished placing a
headband on every crew member present. One of the grey aliens then pointed his wand in the direction of
Captain Foxwell and again a beam of light appeared. Almost immediately, the expressions on his face turned
blank – like those on the people they had found aboard the transport vessel. One by one the alien pointed his
wand at each crew member, and one by one their faces took on the same blank expression.
“Oh my God!” Koester thought to herself. “Why are they doing this?”
A thought occurred to her, and she hoped that the intruding aliens would not be able to hear the
tricorder she had found as she activated it. It took several seconds as the device scanned multiple frequencies in
the subspace band, but her suspicions were confirmed. A large amount of data was being transmitted over
subspace by the headbands. She made a note of the frequency being used, then shut down the tricorder.
“Well, now I know how the mind wipe was accomplished. All I have to do is avoid being captured, or
I’ll wind up in the same condition!”
She studied the phaser in her hand briefly. While the old type-2 phaser was awkward and heavy in
comparison to modern designs, she found the controls almost mirrored what she had been trained to use at the
Academy. She set the phaser to level three, a relatively high stun setting, and prepared to exit the locker.
One last glance out the window revealed the last of the handful of aliens were leaving the bridge –
probably to help its crew mates drain the minds of the rest of the crew in other areas of the Nash. Quietly she
exited the locker door and slowly shut it behind her to avoid unnecessary noise. She moved to examine the
captain when one of the aliens returned to the bridge, stopping in surprise as he noticed the Starfleet ensign.
Reacting without thought, both Koester and the alien raised the devices they were holding – both likely
with the same intent – but Koester was faster. The phaser beam struck the alien grey in the chest and he fell to
the deck, the wand he had been hold falling and rolling in Koester’s direction. For some reason, the only thing
she could think to do with it was step on the device, crushing it beneath her boot. Almost immediately the two
last crew members who had had their headbands activated – Barc and Lieutenant Marks – regained
consciousness and mobility. Several others – including Commander Foxwell and Ensign Brooks – remained
seemingly catatonic, their faces blank. Barc immediately grabbed a phaser from a weapons locker under his
console and looked at Koester.
“Good work, Ensign.”
Koester started to smile, but only briefly as footsteps rushing toward the bridge could be heard.
Moments later half a dozen of the grey aliens appeared – their own wands at the ready – but when they realized
their adversaries were better armed they quickly activated the devices on their arms. The shimmer appeared in
the air again near each alien and before either Koester or Barc could fire their weapons the aliens rushed
through, apparently transported back to their own vessel.
“Quickly, we need to do something to stop them from leaving!” Koester said. “They are our only
chance to find out what happened to the minds of all our people and if there is anything we can do to restore
their memories!”
“I’ll see if I can lock a tractor beam of our own on them,” Barc said, his fingers dancing on the console
for several seconds until a look of confusion crossed his face. “We’re too late!”
“The alien ship has gotten away?” Koester asked, her voice filled with disappointment.
“No! They’ve already been captured by the tractor beam of a starship!”
Koester looked for the first time at the main viewer, where she could now see a Nebula-class starship
with its tractor beam holding the saucer-like alien ship helpless in its grip.
“Let’s see how many more of our crew are conscious and can help get the ship up and running again,”
Barc suggested. “Then we can tow both the transport and that alien ship back to Starbase 10 and see what’s
going on for sure.”
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 30 A Vol. 06, #05 A
* * * *
Ensign Koester’s personal log, stardate 67419.0:
Both the Nash and the Bonchune are heading back to Starbase 10 with the transport
ship Astral Orchid and the alien vessel in tow. I am heading over to the USS
Bonchune now to share what I learned about what the aliens were doing to our crew
in the hopes the process can be reversed.
The two dozen grey aliens were all incarcerated in the Bonchune’s brig, attempts at communicating
with them being difficult as their syntax proved elusive to the universal translators. Meanwhile, the Bonchune’s
captain and chief science officer stood in a science lab with Ensign Koester as she explained what she had seen
and what her tricorder had recorded while they examined hundreds of crystals that had been recovered from the
alien ship.
“As near as we can tell, these aliens use a crystal-based storage medium,” the chief science officer
explained. “It looks like the headband device converted humanoid brainwave patterns into data and transmitted
it to their ship’s computer, where it was stored on these crystals.”
“There must be hundreds of them!” the captain remarked.
“As near as we can tell, one for each victim of their mind-wiping technology, Captain,” Koester
explained. “Amazing to think that each of these little crystals – no larger than your thumbnail – contains the
sum total knowledge and experiences of one person’s entire lifetime! Each one is encoded. I think, if we can
match the encoding, we can determine which crystal is associated with each victim.”
“You think we can restore their memories?” the captain asked.
“We need to analyze the alien’s technology a little more, but I believe it is possible,” the chief science
officer replied. “The question will be, how long will it take?”
“It would help if we could communicate with our ‘guests’ down in the brig and find out why they were
doing what they were doing,” the captain remarked.
The Bonchune’s crew continued to work hard to both decipher the alien language and study the crystal
storage technology. A slight breakthrough with the universal translator allowed some interaction between the
science and medical staff and the aliens – similar to speakers of similar languages like Italian and Spanish being
able to get basic concepts across to one another, which allowed the crew to begin to understand the technology.
Within a day of returning to the starbase, the medical department had managed to one by one begin to restore
the memories and knowledge of the entire Nash crew, the passengers and crew of the Astral Orchid, and the
other three ships that had been attacked by the mysterious grey aliens.
It was almost a week more before the Nash was ready to resume its journey toward Starbase 718.
“Welcome back, Captain,” Ensign Brooks said as Commander Foxwell entered the bridge and looked
around.
“Thank you, Mister Brooks. Any idea where Ensign Koester is? We need to get underway soon.
We’re already ten days behind schedule.”
“She was still down at the starbase hospital helping out last I heard,” Brooks replied seconds before
Koester appeared on the bridge, rushing in and toward the helm console.
“Sorry, sir. Got caught up in what was happening on the surface,” she said as she took her place to the
left of Lt Marks.
“Anything new we should know?” Foxwell asked as he took his own seat.
“They’ve made a lot of progress programming the Almaren language into the universal translators,”
Koester replied as she programmed the departing vector into the helm. “We now know they come from a planet
in what used to be the Romulan Neutral Zone, which is why we never encountered them before. Their
technology is rather limited – their version of faster than light travel being the manipulation of artificial
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 31 A Vol. 06, #05 A
wormholes which limits them to within a couple of light years of their home system – but they consider
themselves explorers like us.”
“Explorers?” Marks questioned. “Some way of exploring! Stealing other people’s minds! I’m still
suffering from migraines because of what they did to me.”
“Doctor Sofek said the effects of the mind-drain will lessen over time. You should be back to your old
self in a few more days, Mister Marks,” the captain said. He then turned his attention to his helm officer again
and said, “But Lieutenant Marks is right in one way. What kind of exploration is draining the minds of sentient
beings you happen to come across?”
“The Almaren intent wasn’t to steal our knowledge, just borrow it... so to speak.”
“Borrow our knowledge? They were eventually going to return it?”
“They were not aware their mind-scanning technology was wiping out the knowledge they were
collecting. Because their brains work a little differently than ours, they believed they were only copying what
we had in our heads. It’s also why their language was so hard to translate,” Koester explained. “Since their
technology did not allow them to go more than a handful of light years away from their homes, they developed
the mind-scanner as a way of learning more about the galaxy at large by – they thought – copying the
knowledge of other races they encountered and learning from what they copied.”
“So they weren’t actually evil,” Foxwell remarked. “Just misguided.” He thought about what had
happened a little more. “What is happening to the Almaren now?”
“Captain Dewitt of the Bonchune told me he’s going to return them and their ship to their home planet
and now that we can communicate with them conduct negotiations with their leadership. He hopes we can
come to an agreement where we share knowledge with them knowingly and mutually. After all, their crystal
storage devices are at least a thousand times more efficient storage medium than our isolinear optical chips at
less than half the size!”
“Well, I just hope that was the extent of the excitement for this voyage,” Foxwell remarked. “I think
I’ve come to like the normal routine aboard the Nash. Helm, break orbit. Set course toward Starbase 718!”
“Aye, sir,” Koester responded. “Breaking orbit. Setting course 350 mark 2. Speed, sir?”
“We have to make up some time, Ensign. Ahead warp seven!”
“Are you sure, sir?” Koester asked, looking over her shoulder at the captain. Even Lt Marks seemed
unsure.
“Okay, maybe we could do with just a little more excitement,” Foxwell remarked. “Warp seven,
Ensign.”
Koester smiled as she responded, “Ahead warp seven, aye.”
* * * *
Ensign Koester’s personal log, stardate 67534.0:
The Nash’s journey to Starbase 718, where we stopped for only three days instead of
the expected five, and Starbase 719 in the Typhon Sector went smoothly. Nothing too
out of the ordinary occurred during the remainder of our voyage, which was good
because it allowed Brooks and Shras and Flanigan and Albach and I to get used to
the day-to-day routine of shipboard life: standing watch, qualifying new watch
stations, routine maintenance of the ship, and even occasionally some off-duty time to
rest. The trip out to the Typhon Sector has been a good learning experience for all of
us.
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 32 A Vol. 06, #05 A
After nearly a week at Starbase 719 – during which I was able to spend some time
with my step-mother Michelle and Colonel McIntyre – it came time to finally make
the last leg of our journey to our new lives. Albach has gone on to the Dauntless –
where I asked him to pass on my best wishes to my Dad and ‘foster sister’ Cassie –
and Flanigan to the Sarek. Now Kestra Brooks, Thalev Shras, and I are aboard the
cargo transport Cassandra, rapidly approaching our own first deep space assignment
– the Intrepid-class starship USS Bellerophon. I look forward to the future that lies
ahead of us.
Captain Charles Hunter and his first mate stood in the transporter station of the Cassandra as Ensigns
Koester and Brooks and 2nd
Lieutenant Shras entered, all three carrying their sole possessions packed away in
small Starfleet-issued duffle bags.
“On behalf of Starfleet, thank you for transporting us all the way out here, Captain Hunter,” Koester
said as she shook the cargo ship captain’s hand.
“It was my pleasure, Ensign. And my thanks for you and Ensign Brooks analyzing that vibration in the
nacelle supports. I can feel the Cassandra is running better than she has in months.”
“Captain,” said the Cassandra’s first mate, Don Diego. “The Bellerophon has signaled they are ready
to beam aboard their new crew members.”
“Good,” Hunter said. He then looked at the three young officers and said, “Good luck, Lieutenant
Shras. And Ensign Koester, Ensign Brooks… again, my thanks. I’ll buy you both a drink at the Staggering
Hobo’s Hideaway next time both our ships are in port at the same time.”
As the three young Starfleet officers mounted the small transport platform – normally used to beam
cargo on and off the civilian vessel – Brooks looked at her companion with a sidelong glance and asked, “Did
Captain Hunter just ask us both out on a date?”
“No!” Koester replied, turning to face Diego behind the control console. “At least, I don’t think so.”
“Energizing,” Diego announced as he activated the transporter.
Reality faded away in a shower of blue sparkles to the point of view of the three ensigns, to be
replaced a moment later by the darker decor of a Federation starship’s clean and efficient transporter room. As
the transporter hummed back down to stand-by, Koester saw several familiar faces – and one unfamiliar one –
standing in front of the control booth. Captain (Carrie) K’danz smiled as she stepped forward.
“Ensigns Gem Koester, Kestra Brooks, and 2nd
Lieutenant Thalev Shras reporting as ordered,” Koester
said formally as she handed the padd containing their orders to the captain.
“Welcome aboard the Bellerophon, Gem... I mean... (ahem), Ensign Koester,” K’danz said. “You
remember Commander Paris and Commander Dar?”
“Of course,” Koester said as she greeted the starship’s first officer and both chief engineer and the
captain’s husband, then introduced them all to her companions.
“Lieutenant Shras, this is Captain Michael Drake, you division officer. He is in charge of security-
tactical,” K’danz explained as Drake stepped forward and greeted the new arrivals. “And Ensigns Koester and
Brooks, the woman to my left is Lt Commander T’Var, your new division officer.”
“Peace and long life, Ensigns,” T’Var said as she offered the Vulcan salute to the two new officers.
Koester raised her right hand in the same gesture and replied, “The honor is to serve.”
“Your service honors us,” T’Var added, a glint in her eye the only indication she was both surprised
and pleased with the ensign’s response to her traditional Vulcan greeting. “I look forward to working with you.
I will give you some time to settle in, and I believe the Captain wishes to spend some time with you today.”
She glanced in the direction of K’danz. “I expect you both to report to me on the bridge first thing on the
morning shift – 0600 hours.”
A SUBSPACE CHATTER A Page 33 A Vol. 06, #05 A
“We’ll be there, Commander,” Koester assured and T’Var nodded before turning and leaving the
transporter room.
K’danz gestured toward the door, and everyone exited into the corridor beyond. As Drake led Shras
away to the quarters where the Marines bunked aboard the Bellerophon, K’danz led Koester and Brooks in the
opposite direction as she said, “We’ll get you settled into your quarters... Gem, I hope you don’t mind rooming
with Ensign Brooks?”
Brooks and Koester exchanged glances, and Brooks even smiled.
“Not at all, Captain,” Koester replied for both of them.
“Good. Once you’re settled in, we can grab a meal in crew’s mess. I want to hear all about your trip
out here. Especially your encounter with the Almaren. I’ve been hearing a lot of chatter over subspace about
that incident, and I want the full report from you.”
After Koester and Brooks were shown to the quarters they would share – which were actually slightly
larger than what a newly-arriving ensign would normally expect, each new officer getting her own small
bedroom sharing a mutual living area instead of sharing a bedroom in smaller quarters as was the norm. There
Commander Paris excused himself to return to the bridge, and after Koester and Brooks did little more than toss
their duffle bags on their respective bunks and briefly look around their new quarters, joined K’danz and Dar in
crew’s mess for a meal, where they were joined by the couple’s adopted ten year old son Jacob Danz.
“Now, tell me all about your encounter with the Almaren,” K’danz said.
As Brooks told the story from her own perspective, Koester glanced around the room, her eyes finally
settling on the unusual looking man wearing a white jacket behind the serving counter. As Brooks continued to
regale the captain and chief engineer with her tale of how it feels to have your memories drain directly out of
your head, Koester leaned over to young Jacob and asked, “Who’s that guy behind the counter?”
Jacob looked over briefly, then whispered back, “That’s just J’on.”
“J’on? He’s not wearing a Starfleet uniform. What’s his job aboard the Belle?”
“He’s our chef. Used to work in one of the restaurants aboard the starbase before Mom brought him
on board. Some of the crew prefer what they call ‘home-cooked’ meals to what they get out of the replicators.
He cooks pretty good, I guess.”
“He looks very... unusual,” Koester remarked. “Human but... different.”
“I heard he’s half-Pakled, whatever that is,” Jacob answered, his interest in J’on quickly waning as he
returned his attention to the plate of spaghetti in front of him.
“J’on...?” Koester repeated to herself. “Hmmm...”
“What about you, Gem?”
“Huh? What?” Koester asked, suddenly realizing that K’danz had been talking to her.
K’danz glanced in the direction Koester had been staring, then knowingly smiled as she repeated her
question, “What were you doing when the Nash crew were all being incapacitated and drained of their
memories?”
“She knocked herself unconscious with a book,” Brooks remarked nonchalantly.
“I wasn’t knocked out!” Koester protested. “I was only hit on the head!” Then, with one final glance
at the chef behind the counter, she explained, “Okay, this is what really happened...”
The End