Chapter Text
The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 14: Close to the Edge Part III - I Get Up, I Get Down
Scene 1: The Blame
You could clearly see the lady sadly looking…
Saying that she’d take the blame…
14.1
The Blame
“Bill, send a distress signal to the Commodore!”
Master Chief Bill Waller leapt up from the now useless helm and quickly moved to the adjacent communications station, there quickly programming the U.S.S. Escort’s communication system. “Distress signal away,” he reported without looking back. “Impact imminent!”
Waller’s announcement was immediately followed by a harsh grinding sound like a giant drill. He turned and looked in horror as the tip of the rocky shell of the creature his captain had dubbed a “lepreshroom” punched down through the ceiling at the back of the bridge, then quickly continued downward, directly toward Escort’s warp core.
Neither Carter nor Waller had any understanding of why they were still alive as the back of the bridge was replaced by a growing wall of rock that swiftly swelled to fill the bridge.
“Rhonda!!” Waller cried as the rock passed through his captain’s body, then: “Crap!!!” as the rock passed seamlessly through his own body, followed by a slimy, mushy grayness that he could almost feel as a wave of nausea caused him to retch. He fell out of his chair to his knees and vomited into the mushy, slimy grayness, then it, too, passed through him, leaving some traces of his own vomit on his face and uniform, but none on the floor of the bridge.
Everything was dark, gray, out of focus, a little on the wavy side, and covered with a layer of slime. Waller tried to control himself, but the nausea overtook him again and another flux of vomit rushed up out of his stomach and was ejected onto the slimy, dark, gray, out of focus and somewhat wavy floor of the Escort’s bridge.
He crawled a few feet to his right to get away from the sickening, dark gray and even slimier mess that was threatening to throw him into yet another series of regurgitational spasms. He kept his head down, breathing in heaving gasps until he felt a hand on his chin.
Captain Rhonda Carter was sitting cross-legged in front of her longest serving crew-member. She gently lifted his face with a hand on his chin and cleaned his face with a soft, wet rag. After a moment she got to her feet without using her hands, then reached down and helped Master Chief Waller to his feet.
“How did… What kept you from throwing up?”
In response, Carter just pointed to another slimy pile of goo on the floor. Bill Waller nearly threw up again just looking at it.
Carter ignored him. She looked around the dark gray, slimy, and slightly out of focus bridge in wonder: “…the… fuck?”
Waller turned around and carefully made his way back to the helm station. The viewscreen was blank.
“I think we’re inside the thing,” Waller observed.
“Yep,” Carter responded. She walked back to the dark gray, slimy, out of focus captain’s throne and slowly lowered herself into it. “Ewww.”
“Captain?” Waller asked.
“It’s as slimy as it looks.”
Waller pushed his fingers through the slime. “Helm control is still down. Communications is now down, but we’re still broadcasting the distress signal.” He turned back toward Captain Carter. “Captain, she told me she had the ability to control these… slimy… mushroom… things… Stephanie. She was the key to controlling these things. It’s why you can hear. It’s how she fixed Eva’s jaw. Without her…”
Carter finished his thought without looking up: “We’re out of control and blind as a bat.” She looked up at him, a solemn expression on her face. Tears starting in her eyes, something that he had never seen before.
“Bill… I think I really fucked up this time…”
14.1