Ad Astra :: Star Trek Fanfiction Archive ^{Beam me up, Scotty.}

Chapter Text

The Star Beagle Adventures                                                
Episode 7: The Roundabout
Scene 11: Naked

7.11
Naked

Lance Corporal Petra Spitze was the first to wake. She and Private First Class Raanda Habib were in a small cell together. Maybe this room had not been a cell when it had been constructed - it looked beyond ancient and beyond primitive - almost like an escape pod. She wasn’t cold. But she was naked except for a small, protective cup closely covering her genitalia. 

Raanda panicked as she woke to find herself nearly completely naked. She reflexively covered her breasts and huddled back onto the padded bench she had been laid out on.

Spike hefted her breasts. “Relax, Boyfriend. I’ve got them too. But I’d rather have the guys in here with us, boobies or no boobies.”

Spike’s light hearted attitude was infectious and helped Raanda relax. She laughed nervously, then agreed: “Yeah, me too… Oh crap! Our phasers… our communicators… cultural contamination…”

“All slag if I entered the safety codes correctly,” Spike replied. “I smelled something wrong and held my breath. I sent an emergency signal, then tripped the contamination safety protocols. If anyone other than one of us touches those phasers or communicators, the insides melt down. And they had to touch them to get them off of us. Just so much hot slag now.”

“Our clothes? Our med-kits? Knives? The bullpups?” Raanda asked.

“All relatively primitive. These people have cloth, bandaids, canteens, knives, and automatic rifles,” Spike replied. “Not as good as ours, but that’s more a matter of materials technology.”

“Why are we naked?” Raanda asked.

Spike patted the protective cup over her genitals. “We’re not. But I’m not really wild about wearing this thing. It’s a sports cup. Just like what the champions were wearing…”

“You think they’re going to make us fight them?”

At that moment a series of light knocking on one of the walls informed the two nearly naked marines that their fellow marines, 2nd Lt. Iov Pushkin, Sgt. Chavez Lone Wolf, and Private First Class Sasha Soko, were in the adjoining compartment. It was a combination of Morse Code with a shorthand the United Earth Governments marine services had jointly borrowed from the Bajoran Resistance. 

“Apparently they’re naked too,” said Raanda.

“Except for their dingalings,” Spike commented. “I heard the code too. Ask them if Pel is in there with them.”

Raanda stopped short of knocking out the question on the wall when the door to their cell opened, once again causing the young private to reflexively cover her breasts. 

Spike was in no such mood and simply rested her fists on her hips.

The last thing either of the women were expecting was for a brightly colored eadh to lead two oeast into their cell…

Aboard the U.S.S. Beagle, Captain Skip Howard, Commodore Yui Song, and Dean Sakura Nakamura Holland were attending some sort of an odd seance between Doctor Tentis Uto and the former premiere of the Vulcan Science Academy and current Director of Astrophysics aboard the U.S.S. Beagle, T’Eln.

The ancient vulcan was framing the bald betazoid doctor’s face with her hands in a classic vulcan mind meld while Uto was lightly pressing the first two fingers of each of his hands behind her ears in what was, apparently, some betazoid version of a mind meld… They were facing each other over a small table.

 After a few minutes, T’Eln broke the mind meld and Dr. Uto slumped semi-conscious in his chair. He roused slightly, propped his elbows on the table, dropped his face into his hands, and began massaging his temples.

Captain Howard had a concerned look on his face: “Ten?”

“He will recover,” intoned the ancient vulcan. “It was a difficult reconstruction. His brain is terribly soggy. We will need to begin detoxification today.” She tapped the table firmly with two fingers, causing Uto to groan in agony. “Today, doctor. No more sog. You have become an addict. It is severely hampering your considerable and unique abilities.”

Uto was only able to groan his acceptance.

“You should have come to me long ago, Tentis. I will begin teaching you disciplines that will help you silence the noise of so many undisciplined minds.”

“Premiere, perhaps you could share with us what you learned from Dr. Uto?” Sakura prodded.

The ancient vulcan turned her cold, expressionless eyes toward Captain Howard, Dean Nakamura Holland, and Commodore Yui, causing each of them to experience a cold chill. 

“Trader Pel has been screaming Dr. Uto’s name in her mind and trying to communicate her distress…”

“Her??” asked Sakura Nakamura Holland.

“Later,” said both Howard and Yui in unison.

T’Eln was completely unfazed. “I was able to briefly enhance Dr. Uto’s telepathic ability to a fraction of his actual potential before he damaged his brain with excessive amounts of sog. I cannot tell you at this time whether that damage is permanent. Pel is, apparently, naked, bleeding from where her prosthetic ears have been ripped off, alone, and very frightened. She is in a very ancient part of the Roundabout Station…”

“Could we locate him and, um… Beam her out?” asked Sakura, with some level of confusion.

Dr. Uto was still squeezing his temples. “I’m not a transporter targeting sensor, Sakura,” he said with some bitterness.

“It might not be beyond your abilities, eventually, with significant training and a very long detoxification period,” T’Eln responded. She turned her attention back to the task force leadership. “But it is not achievable any time in the near future, if at all. And no one else in this task force has anywhere near that sort of potential. Additionally, I sincerely doubt that even if it were possible, that even the Beagle’s enhanced transporter system would be able to reach that deep inside that ancient space station. Imagine a spherical New York City, in space…”

Dean Sakura Nakamura Holland turned to look at Skip Howard: 

“Her???”

7.11