Path: inforamp.net!news1.toronto.fonorola.net!news1.toronto.istar.net!news.toronto.istar.net!istar.net!imci2!imci3!imci4!newsfeed.internetmci.com!howland.reston.ans.net!news.cac.psu.edu!usenet From: "Todd A. Bobenrieth" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: REPOST:Night of the Next Generation (11/14) Date: 27 Mar 1996 21:58:15 GMT Organization: TAMBOFILMS Lines: 93 Message-ID: <4jcdln$obh@hearst.cac.psu.edu> NNTP-Posting-Host: nb8slip94.cac.psu.edu Mime-Version: 1.0 X-Mailer: Mozilla 1.22 (Windows; I; 16bit) Status: N XI Riker walked over to where Worf was sitting, resting against the bulkhead. Though the Klingon had draped several work tarps over him, he was still shivering. "How you making out, Worf?" asked the Commander. Worf looked up in surprise and threw off the cloths as he stood up. Riker was shocked to see a phaser pointed directly at his head. He took a step back. "Leave.. Me.. ALONE!" screamed the Klingon. "I will not suffer the dishonor of becoming one of...THEM!" He motioned to the main doors, behind which came the sounds of wailings and scratchings. "I know what I must do." "What are you talking about, Worf?" Riker asked. "You're not seriously thinking of killing yourself, are you?" "No, I must die with honor, in battle." Worf gripped the phaser tightly. "You must let me out of here." he snarled. "Honor?" The Commander stared down his security chief. "Where is the honor of committing suicide? That's what you'll be doing. I don't call that honor. I call that cowardice." "You do not understand the Klingon way," growled Worf. "I am finished. I can feel my life's blood slipping away. I will not die cowering in a corner." "No." said the Commander. "You are not going to die. I will get you back to the Enterprise for medical attention. A rescue team is probably already on the way over." "None of us are leaving," said Worf. "The creatures will be through those doors in a matter of hours. I recommend we all prepare for battle. It is the honorable way to die." Suddenly, Riker shot forward. Worf was completely caught by surprise and tried to bring the phaser down to stun him, but Riker punched at his hand sending the phaser spinning across the floor. Worf suddenly groaned and fell back, unconscious. Riker caught him and rested him back against the bulkhead. He re-covered the Klingon with the tarps. "Rest well, old friend," he muttered. "Commander?" It was Geordi. Riker stood up and walked over to where the engineer was examining the engines. "What is it, Geordi?" he inquired. "You're not going to like this, Commander," he said. "The impulse drives are shot. It would take days to fix them, and I don't even have the equipment to do it. But that's not the worst of it." Laforge walked over to the main warp chamber. "The core is still hot, and my visor is picking up stress fractures in the container. It looks like we have some kind of plasma buildup in there. Sir, that things going to rupture, and when it does, this ship is going to turn into a huge fire ball." "Can't we dump the core?" asked Riker. "Negative. All controls are out. Even the manual override is bent up beyond repair." explained the engineer. Riker sighed. "Ok, how much time do we have?" Geordi looked over the core container. "Looking at the speed of deterioration, I'd give us about twenty minutes." "Damn. We've got to get back to the shuttlecraft. Ideas?" Geordi sighed. "No sir. Not a one." Suddenly the ship lurched sending everyone reeling. Geordi, who had been leaning over the safety rail between the warp core well and the deck, lost his balance, and started to fall into the shaft. Riker just barely caught his space suit and pulled him back. The lurching stopped almost as quickly as it had begun. "What the hell was that?" exclaimed the Commander. "I don't know, sir. It almost seemed like something grabbed onto us and yanked," answered Laforge. He walled over to one of the bulkheads and scanned it with his visor. "I think the structure of the ship is finally giving way to fatigue." Riker's stomach knotted up. It looked like Worf was right after all. They weren't going to make it out. "Sir!" It was security officer Barnes. "Come quick!" Riker and Laforge ran to where the Ensign was calling. A large tarp occupied that corner of the room, under it lay the dead body of Thomas. The fact that the tarp was now moving indicated that the body was not so dead anymore. Barnes held his phaser aimed at it. "What do I do sir?" Riker looked around. He walked over and grabbed a metal pipe from a pile of loose parts near where a burt out power conduate was being worked on. He walked back to Thomas, knelt down, and threw back the tarp. Thomas sat abruptly up. His eyes had lost all pigment and now he stared at them with lifeless, white orbs. His hair was matted with dried blood from the hole in his head. His face was partially covered with it as well, and he was trying to lick it off with his tongue. Riker's stomach knotted even tighter. "Sorry to do this, Lieutenant," he mumbled. Riker grabbed Thomas's hair and pulled his head back. He positioned the bar like a spear in his right hand and drew it back... And that was when the main doors gave way and blew inward.