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Rated: E · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #2274378
Episode IV: Part VIII - The Away team is trapped
Part VIII





April 04, 2096


“No, no, nooooo,” Lindsey screamed, horrified at what the Grey alien had just communicated. The compartment began to spin, her eyelids fluttered. She fell forward, Roberts catching her as she fainted.

“Yes, it’s true,” the tall Zeta Reticulun replied coldly.

“Why … why?” Roberts shouted, slowly dropping to one knee as he cradled his girlfriend in his arms.

“Our genetic structure has deteriorated and we are no longer able to reproduce. Our hybrid creations are a living, functional, autonomous species. They carry our DNA as well as yours, yet are incapable of producing offspring. However, recent research has yielded promising new results which we believe will correct that problem. And we need living human embryos in order to move onto the next phase.”

“But why Lindsey and I?” Roberts asked again, the emotional shock stunning him as much as a direct hit from a laser pistol. “Neither of us knew,” he groaned, looking sympathetically at his girlfriend, her head resting on his knee.

“While orbiting our sun, a scan of your starship confirmed she was the only female aboard your vessel who was carrying a living embryo,” the alien explained.

“The only vessel we were aware of was an unmanned probe,” Roberts fired back.

“Our vessel was cloaked. You were unaware of our presence.”

Roberts carefully lowered Lindsey’s upper torso, gently resting her head on the cold, gray colored deck. He looked up at the Grey humanoid, his eyes and face now contorted with rage.

“We mean no harm. Unless we improve our genetic structure, our species will soon cease to exist.”

“That’s a lie,” Roberts retorted sharply, slowly rising to his feet. “It’s not about saving your species. The game plan from the beginning has been to infiltrate Earth with your human look-a-like sons-of-bitches so you can take control of the entire planet. A bloodless takeover. All without firing a single weapon. I know all about it — studied it on Earth in primary school and later at Galactic Fleet academy. The “saving the species” story is just a ruse for conquering the planet — without destroying it. Easier to assimilate a habitable world that can support life with an intact eco-system and infrastructure.”

“Interesting conclusion,” the Grey acknowledged, an eerie sense of foreboding projected in his telepathic transmission.

Roberts responded with a cynical chuckle. “I wrote a thesis on it at Galactic Fleet Academy. Unfortunately, no one took it seriously. And thanks to a continuous disinformation campaign by world governments debunking the notion that Grey aliens were creating hybrids, the civilian population wasn’t buying either story. The powers that be didn’t want to admit the Greys had violated the Greada treaty, abducting humans in far greater numbers than was originally agreed to. It was all swept under the rug.”

“Fertile hybrids will make assimilation easier,” the Grey snarlingly admitted. “Any attempts to stop us will result not only in your death and that of your friend,” he threatened, glancing downward at Lindsey, “but the destruction of your planet and all its inhabitants — beginning with your starship.”

Regaining consciousness, Lindsey uttered a faint moan. Roberts kneeled, then whispered softly into her ear. “Try not to move.”

Craning his head upward, Roberts displayed a cynical grin. “Well, I’ve got some bad news for you.”

And what might that be? the Grey telepathically inquired.

Roberts smirked. "THIS," he yelled, pouncing on the spindly alien, catching him off guard and knocking him to the floor. Shifting quickly behind the slender humanoid, he wrapped a jiu jitsu chokehold around the alien’s long, scrawny neck.

Still woozy, Lindsey hoisted herself up onto unsteady feet. Moving away from the ensuing struggle, she bumped into the passageway bulkhead, leaning into it for support. Rubbing the palm of her hands against her eyes, she attempted to visually focus.

Struggling with the lanky alien, Roberts angrily shouted: “You’ve destroyed countless lives and traumatized generations of innocent humans, not to mention all the Earth animals you’ve mutilated and killed.” He tightened his grip on the towering extraterrestrial.

The Grey creature stood, clamping all twelve digits of both hands around Roberts forearms. Possessing strength that at first glance appeared unlikely due to the creature’s slender frame, he easily broke his captive’s chokehold. The alien suddenly whirled around, flinging Ryan into the bulkhead wall.

“Now I’ll show both of you what we do to those who choose not to understand and cooperate.” The imposing humanoid creature strode menacingly toward Roberts, the young Galactic Fleet Officer lying slumped on the deck of the alien fetus room.

Leaning against the bulkhead and still feeling lightheaded, Lindsey leaned over, placing her head down and in the path of a recycling air vent. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a small object on the metallic deck sliding toward her, finally stopping a few feet away. Is that a …? Oh my god, it’s a laser pistol! Looking up and visually retracing the path of the laser weapon, she caught a glimpse of four shadowy silhouettes in the background, slowly advancing in her direction. Flashing a quick smile of relief, she struggled to remain quiet, not wanting to alert the Grey to the presence of what she knew was a Stargazer away team. Now fully alert, she moved silently toward the pistol before reaching down and grabbing it. Adjusting the weapon to its highest setting, she turned and aimed it in the direction of the Grey. Only a moment before, he stopped and turned in response to the pulsating sound of an object sliding on the deck. Too late. Lindsey aimed the pistol and fired, striking the alien in the upper torso and slamming him into the bulkhead just to the left of Roberts.

“Are you okay, Ensign?” Beta asked, finally reaching the traumatized crew member.

“Yes, Commander,” Lindsey cried in relief. “Thank God you’re here,” she crowed, glancing at Doctor Rivera and security officer O’Malley. She stepped toward Beta, enfolding her in a huge embrace.

A moment later Beta stepped back, gently resting her hands on Lindsey’s shoulders. Rendering a sympathetic gaze, she asked, “Roberts — where is he?”

Tears streaming down her face, Lindsey pivoted in her boyfriend’s direction. “Over there, next to the bulkhead. He’s unconscious — alongside the Grey.”

Beta turned her head, glancing at Rivera. “Doctor, take O’Malley with you and check on the condition of Ensign Roberts and the Grey.”

Rivera nodded, both moving quickly toward Roberts.

Removing the communicator from her utility belt, Beta flipped the antenna open, the handheld device chirping in response.

“Foxwell — go ahead."

“Captain, Beta here. We’ve located Lindsey and Roberts.”

Foxwell breathed a sigh of relief. “What’s their condition?”

“Lindsey is here, standing next to me. Doctor Rivera just completed a cursory examination of Roberts and a Grey; both were found unresponsive.”

Handing Rivera her communicator, the chief medical officer reported his findings: “Captain, Lindsey is alert and oriented with no visible external injuries. Suffice to say she’s pretty shook-up.”

“And Roberts?”

He appears to have suffered a concussion along with several fractured ribs. I’ll need to get him back to the T’Vahl for further evaluation. Hesitating, the doctor then continued: “And if you’re interested, the Grey is … dead.”

“Understood,” Foxwell sighed again. “Contact the T’Vahl and make arrangements to transport Lindsey and Roberts to sickbay.”

“Acknowledged,” Rivera replied, handing the communicator back to Beta.

“What is your current status, Captain?”

Foxwell looked around. “We’re on the opposite side of this circular compartment, one deck up. It appears this is a monitoring center of some type.”

“Possibly the control station for the fetus room, which is where my team and I are presently,” Beta advised.

A pause. “Did I hear you say … fetus room?” Foxwell parroted.

“Yes, Captain, a fetus room,” Beta repeated. “You have to see this. There are literally dozens of fetuses and embryos encapsulated in transparent acrylic tanks suspended in what appears to be a synthetic type of amniotic fluid. All are alive and tethered to a centralized life support system. It would be reasonable to assume they are monitored where you are presently.”

Utek turned and locked eyes with Foxwell. “Captain, we need to get down there and provide coordinates for immediate transport of those cylinders to the T’Vahl. A temporary life support system has been set-up in the hangar bay which will keep them alive until we reach Vulcan.”

Foxwell pondered, then nodded. “Agree, but only after placement of the demolition charges on this deck; then we’ll make our way to the deck below and repeat the process. You and I will assist your engineer regarding placement of the charges. Warwick and Mckenzie will provide security.”

Utek paused, returning a blank stare. “As you wish, Captain.”

Foxwell sensed a feeling of disapproval. “Is there a problem, Commander?”

Utek hesitated. “No, Captain. It’s just that …”

"Take cover,” Foxwell shouted, energy beams of unknown composition shooting over and around the uninvited visitors.

"Whoever they are, it’s coming from both directions,” Utek called out, crouching on the deck and leaning into a bulkhead, her hand in an upright position and clutching a phaser.

A group of the shorter Grey EBE’s were spotted advancing toward the away team. Making minimum effort to shield themselves, they continued their approach, bypassing makeshift barriers, passageway egresses, and support equipment anchored to the bulkhead.

“Return fire — wide beam — on stun,” Foxwell ordered. Using their fusion laser pistols, Warwick and McKenzie fired several short bursts. Four EBE’s dropped to the deck, with one continuing to advance. Foxwell aimed his fusion laser rife and fired, dropping the remaining EBE.

Firing their phasers blindly, Utek and the Vulcan Chief Engineer swept as much of the dimmed passageway behind them as they could see. Ceasing fire, the corridor went silent.

Slowly, Foxwell stood. He looked ahead, then turned around, catching sight of Utek and her Chief Engineer. “Destroy their weapons,” he ordered. “They should remain unconscious for at least half an hour.”

Foxwell’s communicator chirped. “Go ahead,” he responded in a curt tone, flipping the antenna open.

“Captain, Beta here. We could hear the tumult above. Do you require assistance?”

“Negative — situation under control.” A pause. “Beta — change of plans — I need for you to use your best judgment; begin placement of the bilitrium charges on as many weight bearing supports as you can locate. There won’t be enough time for the Vulcan Engineer to prepare both decks. We’ll rendezvous with you in twenty minutes.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Oh, and on a related note, be advised we made quick work of an EBE scouting party. My gut tells me their version of a SWAT team is or will soon be on the way."

“Understood,” Beta replied.

Foxwell and Utek took positions ahead and behind the Vulcan engineer and Stargazer security officer as they began the arduous task of attaching the demolition charges to critical support structures. Completing placement of the last explosive, the Galactic Fleet Captain transmitted a pre-arranged code to the T’Vahl. Moments later, Foxwell, Utek, and the away team members re-materialized on the deck below.

“Good to see you, Captain,” Beta greeted.

“Likewise — status report?”

“All bilitrium charges allotted for this deck have been secured to critical support structures.”

Foxwell turned in the direction of the Vulcan Engineer. “Is the remote detonation system ready?”

“Affirmative, Captain.”

Foxwell wheeled around, making eye contact with Utek. “Ready to transport the acrylic tanks to the T’Vahl?

Remaining silent, Utek turned and walked slowly in the opposite direction, stopping as a small contingent of tall Greys began to materialize in front of her. Armed with what appeared to be unfamiliar energy weapons, a second group of tall Greys began to take shape on the opposite side, boxing in the entire away team. Utek casually completed an about face, then locked eyes with Foxwell.

“You will surrender your weapons, Captain."


Click to read Episode IV Part IX - "Star Voyagers: "THE GREY CONSPIRACY"
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