Chapter Text
The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 6: Perpetual Change
Scene 9: Q Lock
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Q Lock
Sgt. Tommy Richards walked through the completely flooded forward section of the U.S.S. Beagle’s Probe Laboratory. He quickly found that the bulky EVA suit would not fit into the tube-chute. He had barely fit into it an hour earlier wearing a skin-tight dive suit.
Without hesitation, he opened and stepped out of the EVA suit. At this point he simply had to hold his breath as there was no way to remove the oxygen tanks from the suit.
It was the first time he had ever, in his 6 years in the U.S. Marine Corps, that he had ever defied an order.
He crawled into the tube, then violated another order by climbing through the opening to the outside of the U.S.S. Beagle. The stars out here were normal, unlike what the sensors were telling everyone on board.
He took a deep breath. That should have killed him - but there was an atmosphere around the glowing white cable that led to the errant Probe Whisky 4. Out here in space. No force fields. No gravity that he could discern…
Richards grasped the white cable and it immediately pulled him away from the Beagle - so fast that the vulcan designed and built ship became vanishingly small in a heartbeat.
Warp speed.
In a body suit.
A yellow body suit with light blue polkadots.
Richards had known somehow that the cable would take him to the probe. The moment he grasped the cable, he was again violating explicit orders. Major Janet Carter had explicitly ordered him not to go further than 20 feet from the opening of the tube. 20 feet. Not 30 light years…
Sgt. Tommy Richards defying orders was similar to a brick wall ordering lunch. Or fish riding bicycles. Even stranger as those things had actually happened...
The cable slowed perceptibly as he neared Probe Whisky 4.
The probe was about 5’ long and about 2.5’ in diameter. The front end of the probe was poking into some sort of fold in space. It was as if someone had rolled up a patch of spacetime, folded it and tied it into a half-hitch around the front end of the probe.
Tiny stars could be seen whirling and dancing madly through this patch of space-rope. And the probe was slowly sinking deeper into it.
Tommy Richards realized he had come all the way out here to execute an order. Captain Howard’s last order to him.
The access panel was located near the rear of the probe. Richards removed the access panel and started the very complicated process of doing what the probe's controls were designed to make it impossible for anyone to do. In fact, there was no one aboard the U.S.S. Beagle who could get this done anywhere near as quickly as Sgt. Tommy Richards.
He defeated one failsafe after another, taking less than 2 minutes to convince the probe that he really wanted it to self-destruct. Right now. No countdown. The probe was slipping further and further into the knot - faster with each inch that slid into the knot…
T’Eln’s eyes snapped open.
She reached out to Falok, the mind-meld starting even before her ancient, wrinkled hands found his face.
Falok needed all of his discipline and training - the old woman’s mind was simply unleashed through his - like a lightning bolt passing through his head. She needed his power. Together they reached out first to Dr. Tentis Uto, then to his wife, Bettes, then to each of the other betazoids in turn, barely receiving permission before taking over their minds, first the betazoids, then the other vulcans, then even Captain Osollaa sh’Zhiathis, making use of even the minimal telepathic ability of the sole andorian on board…
Probe Whisky 4 was destroyed…
“What are you doing, Sergeant?” asked Major Carter.
Tommy Richards lifted his hand from the control panel, surprised at what he had just done. Even more surprised he was still alive. And completely confused as to why he was surprised…
“Sergeant???” Major Carter asked again from behind his chair…
Then the captain’s voice came back over the comm system:
"Emergency destruct Whisky 4…”
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