: “ Cleaning Up ”

Ten minutes after contact with the TCS Devonshire. . .

Tigershark 105
The Able System, Vega Sector
March 11, 2681; 1738 Hours (CST)

First Lieutenant Perry Taylor noticed a gray dot appear in his long-range HUD radar. Instantly, Perry jabbed his radar console to triangulate the radar contact. He opened his vidcomm to confirm the radar blip. "Betsy, are you getting that?" Perry asked in a low solid tone. He glanced over to the right, watching the infinite stars streak across the reflective canopy of his wingman's Tigershark. The two kept in tight formation, flying to the secondary nav point on a Search And Rescue Mission for the TCS Devonshire.

Second Lieutenant Betsy Fairchild flickered on Perry's VDU. The image of young woman in her early twenties appeared. The off white helmet sported hersquadron logo and several personalized images. Betsy shook her head yes and responded, "Yeah, I just picked up an unidentified on my screen…." Betsy paused for a moment as the two Tigersharks received a transmission from TCS Scimitar.

"TCS Scimitar to Great White Squadron, Great White Leader found the Devonshire, we are plotting a course to its position. Your orders will be to finish up your Objectives and rendezvous to the coordinates being downloaded into your Nav system. Do you copy?" The three other wings of Tigersharks acknowledged the TCS Scimitar.

"Great White Leader, this is Great White 5, do you copy?" Perry opened a channel to the squadron commander. The Tigersharks started to deviate from their course to intercept the unknown blip. The two Tigersharks plotted the course at cruising speed.

"Roger, Number 5, this is Great White Leader." The Major appeared on his VDU screen. "Major, we are picking up an Unidentified on our scope; we are going to investigate." The Major nodded in acknowledgement.

"Affirmative, Number 5, just get back to the barn when you are finished." The image of the Major flickered off and the weapons display reappeared. "Betsy, follow my lead. Full burn… three… two… one… engage!" The bright orange glow of the Tigersharks' engine exhausts flared in a blue blaze. The two fighters from the TCS Scimitar instantly lurched forward, kicking up the fighters' max speed. The Tigersharks would reach their destination in less than two minutes.

Tigershark 106
100,000 klicks from the target

The Tigersharks began to decelerate from a full burn, coming into max active radar range. "I'm picking up a civilian signature, but it's too weak to correctly identify." Betsy immediately beamed the data over to Perry. Betsy tipped her throttle forward, speeding up her Tigershark as she drifted from formation. "It's too small to be a civvie cargo or private vessel."

"I wait for me, Betsy," Perry replied, pulsing his 'burners to match her course and speed. The two Confederation fighters closed in on the target, which was now clearly identified and in visual range. Betsy gentle adjusted her fighter to line up the Target in her crosshairs. "It's a pod?" Betsy blurted when the wire frame image appeared on her VDU. "Can't be... it's too small." The young and curious fighter pilot stared intently into her crosshairs as the blackened and dented cylindrical container drifted in the void. Betsy continued to correct her course and speed because spinning canister seemed to gravitate away from her view.

"Hey, it's a data pod." Perry's observation was correct, it was a data pod. Perry jabbed the button to his forward lights, illuminating the pod. "SS Romancer, C342-V785" were the words inscribed onto the scarred and burned surface of the durasteel container.

"TCS Scimitar, this is Great White Five. We found a Data Pod in the vicinity of Nav 4, I am transmitting the coordinates to you."

"Great White Five, this is the Scimitar, We received your coordinates. Your orders are to hold that position as we plot a course to your Location. ETA is thirty-four minutes, over."

"Affirmative." Perry and Betsy watched the Comm Officer turn his head towards the Bridge, then back to the console. The young comm officer worked on the console and looked back into the VDU. "Great White 5, maintain position - we're on our way. Over and out."

TCS Scimitar; Bridge

The Bridge of the new Murphy-class destroyer was a representation of Terran Confederation efficiency. A massive three-point encompassing ploy-glass window gave the bridge an amazing view of the spectacular stars and anomalies directly in front and on both sides of the bridge. Terran Confederation Navy Captain Dennis Stanford sat in his captain's chair with a resolute form. The blue polished durasteel floor reflected the steadily glowing light sources from the ceiling. Eight control consoles are positioned in front of the Captain, all manned by the capable officers from a young ensign to the veteran Weapons Officer. At the center of the bridge is the massive holographic projector, the device that presented a massive three-dimensional display of the entire Destroyer and more. The captain seat was aligned right in behind of the projector and the control consoles, offering an overlooking ability of the bridge. The massive captain's chair offered no specially decorations but the efficiency of the armrest control consoles, impact seatbelts and very comfortable padding. In addition to the Captain's Chair there were four other seats beside his. The Murphy Destroyers were both impressive on the inside as they were on the outside.

Captain Stanford analyzed the image holographic of the Able System. Small yellow dots represented the nav points plotted by the fighters and the blue points were designated for the Scimitar's compliment of eight F/A-105 Tigershark fighters.

"Course laid in, Captain," the helmsman reported.

Tigershark 105
Thirty Minutes later

The two brand new Confederation Tigersharks kept a distance of 1,000 klicks as they circled the data pod. "There they are," Betsy pointed out over the comm. The Tigershark broke to the left, maneuvering around the data pod one last time before heading over to the TCS Scimitar.

"Great White Five, this is the TCS Scimitar, what's your status?" First Lieutenant Taylor's VDU Comm channel automatically opened up. Perry gave a sigh of relieve and maneuvered away from the Data Pod. "We're just fine, I wish we had tractor beams on these fighters to save us some time." Perry watched his wingman maneuver around the Scimitar, hovering over the Landing bay. The sleek dark gray fighter flew across the port side of the Destroyer from Bow to Astern. Perry gazed on the Massive Confederation Star and the words: TCS Scimitar.

"TCS Scimitar, Do I have clearance to land?"

"Affirmative Tigershark One-Zero-Five you are cleared to land on Docking Bay 1."

TCS Scimitar; Captain's Office
20 Minutes Later

The Captain's Office, the Captain's inner sanctum. The office was no more fairly modest square office. A large window gave a clear view of the starry void. Captain Stanford preferred to dim the main ceiling lights and use his desk lamp. His desk was an impressive wooden relic he brought aboard. The lacquered Oxford Oak reflected the stars from his window. His Fleet Academy graduation picture hung over the far end of the office, beside antique wooden bookshelf. Three flags attached to poles crossed were displayed over the left wall. They were historic replicas of the United Nations Flag, the Union Jack (the British flag), and the retired Terran Confederation Flag. The old Confed flag adopted the branches of the United Nations Flag with the Confederation Star in a dark Navy Blue background. A sofa placed near his desk and two seats in front of the desk were the only seating arrangements in his office.

Captain Stanford settled himself into the large executive chair. The stoic Captain began to gaze through the window port, staring into the darkened hulk of the TCS Devonshire and Romancer. Three officers gathered in the Captain's presence: the Scimitar's XO, Commander Michael Ishikawa; the Marine Commander, Second Lieutenant Marie Rollins; the Chief Medical Officer, Lt. Commander Hembert Gordado. The three officers stood silently as they watched the message play out.

"SS Romancer C342-V785
Main Data Log
Final long Entry
February 27, 2681
2346 Hours"

A distraught looking man staggered onto the screen. He looked like he was in his early thirties; he had noticeably dark bags under his eyes and a three-day stubble. The four officers noticed the pile of equipment someone had barricaded the door with. He was using a portable control console he gained access the ships command systems. The tired man picked up the monitor and set it down in a corner of the small cabin. The lights were flickering and he checked his laser pistol. Facing the monitor, he started to speak.

"This is Pirus Oren of the Civilian Freighter Romancer. Everyone is dead. Some kind of disease." The man's voice was cracked and in desperation. "Everyone is dead... Captain Potter, Ennis..." The man named several others of the crew. "I don't want to die..." He begged, becoming completely delirious. "It hurts..." the man groaned in agony as he dropped to his knees. The man crumpled up in front of monitor. The four watched and noticed his hand and down to his forearm, it was a sickening green discoloration. The slimy film on his arm flickered in the light. A web like network began to crisscross like capillaries as throbbed with infected blood. The ship's computer message system and icon appeared.

"End of recording
SS Romancer C342-V785"

"Your opinion...?" the Captain reverberated from his seat.

Commander Ishikawa crossed his arms and replied, "From the external analysis of the Devonshire, I think the same thing on the Romancer jumped into the Devonshire." Ishikawa immediately activated the sensor readings of the TCS Devonshire. A small flat screen wall monitor revealed the open access ports, exposing the whole ship into the void.

"Explain," Captain Stanford voiced from his seat.

"I think Doctor Gordado can explain," Michael answered, pausing the frame in the message where Pirus Oren lifted his arm.

"Biological to the extent where they vented all human compartments into space. In acts of desperation, this would be the final choice to kill any and every living thing second to destroying the ship." The man placed his hand over his face and stroked his beard, thinking.

"So what are we up against?" Lieutenant Rollins asked. The hardened Marine veteran never could have expected this. "What were these monsters that guy was talking about?"

"Unknown, and probably will be classified after a report is filed. That is why there will be a minimum sized boarding team that will enter the ship and retrieve the data logs in Zero-G." Commander Ishikawa gave the order then looked at Captain Stanford.

"I agree with Michael, zero gravity seems like the safest way to enter the Devonshire without biological contamination. Let me point out that all areas on the Devonshire will be exposed to space as a precaution," the Captain's deep tone sounded from his seat.

"Very well, Doctor, do you have any other information?" Ishikawa turned to Lt. Comdr. Gordado.

"I have a bad feeling that this is associated with that new Alien Physiology," the Doctor answered.

"All right, you have your orders, Lieutenant Rollins. Assemble a team and be ready within thirty minutes. And one more thing, Lieutenant, I find this situation very disturbing. In form your Marines to keep all information that you find to themselves, I do not want the whole destroyer speaking about the details of what you might find. Is that understood? I also would like you to personally supervise the data collection within the Sickbay of the Devonshire."

Lt. Rollins tried hard to hold in the smile of excitement. She always loved to go on any mission. She hated the restrictions of monitoring her troops from a distance. Since it was a small squad of Marines on a single Destroyer, Captain Stanford gave her the opportunity to lead operations personally from the field.

"Completely, sir," the Marine Second Lieutenant replied.

TCS Scimitar
Shuttle 001 Thor's Hammer
Five minutes to launch

"Let's go! Let's go!!!" Sergeant McAlester, OIC of the boarding operation, barked as he held his space suit helmet in one arm. The boarding squad of 12 Marines locked themselves into the seats as they prepared for anything and everything. The Terran Confederation Marine's Standard Space Suit, moderate armor padding over a durable tight fitting pressurized suit that maximized mobility. The standard issue helmet resembled closely to the fighter pilot helmet with the addition of Isometal alloy plating, multi-spec close range scanners, and high beam lights.

Nine of the twelve were armed the standard issue TCMC M-47 Laser Assault Rifle, effective in Zero-G as well as atmospheric environments. Team leaders had the opportunity to attach the pump action Plasma Grenade Launcher on to their rifles. The Lieutenant strapped herself down to a seat and signaled the pilot. "Roger, Lieutenant Rollins, we're lifting off. Tower, do we have clearance?"

"Affirmative, Thor's Hammer." The Shuttle pilot tilted the control as it propelled itself through the hanger's shielding and immediately maneuvered itself onto the ghost hulk of the TCS Devonshire. The large shuttlecraft used short bursts from its maneuvering jets to drift carefully closer to the frigate's hull. The massive Condor shuttlecraft used its momentum to glide across the hull. Tiny bursts from the boxy shuttlecraft closed in. The target landing is the main starboard side open docking port, the gravity and visual limitations would be a few obstacles the Marines would have to face.

Inside the steel gray interior of the shuttle, twelve anxious Marines got ready for anything. Final briefing from the Lieutenant was coming through the comm system of their space suits. "Listen up, boys'n girls! I want two teams to sweep the area for anything unnatural."

A young private leaned his head forward and asked. "Bugs, ma'am?"

"I'm not sure, son, but if you see anything moving in the void of space, kill it. Squad leader and first Fire Team… Sergeant McAlester take over with the details of this mission." The Marine Sergeant nodded and stood up in front of the two rows of Marines.

"Martinez, Jackson, and Bjorkland - you're with me. We will sweep the forward corridor all the way to the bridge." He held on to the railing. "Team Two, Corporal Nguyen, you're with Muprhy, Shelby, and Gainsburough. Sweep the area back to Engineering, also check on what happened to the power?"

"Touchdown in… Four… Three… Two… One…" The shuttle jarred for a second as the landing gears planted itself on the flat surface of the frigate. Lieutenant Rollins began to speak into the comm, while Sergeant McAlester slammed his first on the button that triggered the space door to seal up the cockpit. "Okay, Esterhaus, Sterenkov, and Kim - wait here." Lieutenant Rollins walked up in front of the three who grumbled at their disappointment.

"Okay, the three of you switch to a different channel, 432," Rollins informed them of the importance of the Sickbay data. Their job was to comb the area for sickbay, which sounded easy enough. Lieutenant Rollins gave the Sarge the signal.

"All right, Marines! Hit the mag boots! Flooding the compartment!" The furious gale force wind began to suck the air out into the vacuum of space as the rear door of the shuttle opened up. "Go! Go! Go! Go!" A charge of 12 Marines jumped from the shuttle and onto the hull of the TCS Devonshire.

Twelve Marines deployed onto the durasteel surface of the frigate, latching their magnetic boots onto the hull. "This is the first time I did this…" Private Bjorkland muttered into the comm. The Three Teams gathered around the open docking hatch. "Keep the chatter to a minimum, Bjorkland," the Sarge barked.

"Sarge, you're up first." Lieutenant Rollins pointed the way into the ship's interior. The four person team quickly shuffled into the Devonshire, latching on to the floor. "Keep your feet on the floor, Bjorkland," Sergeant McAlester growled at the private who was attempting to walk on the walls of the Frigate's corridor.

"C'mon, Sarge," he groaned as he followed the Team in. The high beam lights of Second Squad shot across the corridor, slowly marching across the metal floor with magnetic boots. Corporal Nguyen told his team to switch to the Fire Team 2 frequency.

"How are you holding up?" Corporal Nguyen asked his heavy gunner Private Shelby. The private lifted the neutron minigun with ease and pointed into the bleak darkness leading to the Engineering room.

Private Murphy and Gainsburough took the job sweeping the individual rooms leading to the downward. The Marines stood at the doorway to each room, using the high beam lights to illuminate the where ever their rifles pointed.

Eight tense minutes passed as the platoon roamed through the darkness of a dead ship. Team Two finally arrived at the Engineering Door, but found it sealed. Team One was still sweeping its way to the bridge. Lieutenant Rollins and her Team found their way into the Frigate's sickbay.

"Holy Christ…" Esterhaus uttered at the sight of twenty bodies scatter across the floor, all in a horrid state of decomposition. Seventeen other bodies were properly placed in body bags piled up in the rear of the Sickbay. Lieutenant Rollins gave him a nudge to continue the sweep. The four-man secured the sickbay and began to examine the bodies.

"It doesn't look like normal decomposition." Private Kim jabbed the body with his bayonet. Crouched low, he examined the body who's clothing remnants looked like a surgeon's protective suit. "What the hell is this shit?" He said in disgust, lifting a green and brown patchy growth that began to float in zero gravity. "Aw, sick!"

"Damn! Don't touch anything! Kim, put that down. Leave the bayonet here and don't let any of that crap touch your suits! Back off!" She ordered, watching Strenekov and Easterhaus back off while Kim detached his bayonet. "What are you looking for, Lieutenant?" Strenekov asked as he backed away to the door.

"I think the medical files will be very useful. All Teams report?" She accessed the Main Comm channel from her wrist display.

"We're having trouble with engineering the door's been lasered shut," Corporal Nguyen's voice answered her call. "Sergeant McAlester?"

"We are now entering the bridge…" Lieutenant Rollins listened to the sound of the magnetic boots clinking against the floor. "The bridge…"

"What's with the bridge, McAlester?" The major asked intently. "Sir, it's been blown to hell. Looks like there was a fire fight. Frag Grenades, someone tossed about six to eight of them.

"Sarge!"

"What?"

"Oh god, it looks like six members of the crew died of the blast. Zero Gravity plastered them to the fucking wall. Oh Jesus Christ!"

"What is it?" Lieutenant Rollins demanded.

"This guy died of the vacuum..." Rollins could only imagine the disturbing look on the dead man's agonizing face as the oxygen was sucked from his lungs, him, screaming in a pose of eternal anguish. Explosive decompression.

"Sarge, the door to the Ready Room's been sealed shut!"

"All right. Nguyen and McAlester... finish your sweep and rendezvous in thirty."

TCS Scimitar; Captain's Office
0149 Hours

The same four people meet again to review the information collected from the Devonshire. "People, what we have seen here is considered Classified to the highest grade. Confederation High Command will issue a full investigation of this incident. Our orders now are to destroy both ships before any more contamination is spread. The Seventh Fleet is mobilizing and will make this new biological threat a priority."

"Wait, you just can't leave it up to them, you already took all my samples and removed my records. I am the chief medical officer I have do clearance for this. We need to conduct further a study." He motioned his hands and tried to continue but paused as Captain Stanford started to speak.

"It's an order, Lieutenant Commander Gordado, you are the Scimitar's Chief Medical Officer, but it as been considered fully sensitive material and needs evaluation in side the Specialized study in Sol. We will be joining the Seventh Fleet in order to contain the threat and to monitor the sector for any possible incidents of Biological Contamination. If this lands on a colony, we will have a major problem. This matter will not be discussed with any of other person. The testing you have started was without HiCom clearance, this is a matter I cannot argue about. I have my own orders to attend to with Admiral Tupelov," the Captain's stern voice ruled over the matter.

"Commander Ishikawa, proceed."

"Very well." The commander left the room.

Stepping onto the bridge, a young ensign notified the bridge of his presence, "Commander on the bridge!"

A female Lieutenant Commander sat from the command chair. She saluted the Commander and reported the ship's state and then returned the command of the bridge to Commander shikawa. Michael always had a sense of protocol whenever he took the bridge, he never enforced it, but the crew instantly caught on and respected the sense of Duty. Although he wasn't sure what there was left to be proud when your life has been filled with conflict.

"Weapons are prepped and ready, Armstrong?" The commander concurred and Ishikawa proceeded with the Captain's orders. "Helm, are we in range?"

"That is affirmative, Commander. We are 10,000 klicks from the target," the helmsman reported.

"Weapons, target our torpedoes on the TCS Devonshire. Prepare to fire on my mark… fire!" Ishikawa watched the holographic targeting image of the Devonshire as the pressurized sound of two torpedo leapt from the Scimitar. Ishikawa turned his attention to the torpedoes streaking across space with a trail of exhaust.

"Impact in three… two… one!" The white blinding flash signaled the impact. In a matter of milliseconds the Devonshire's hull vaporized in two places. Although, there was no internal explosion, no burning fire, only the red hot glow of molten durasteel hurling itself in three different directions.

"Weapons, target the Romancer."

The weapons/fire control officer then replied, "Locked on, sir."

"One torpedo, fire." The Matter/Anit-Matter Torpedo shot from the torpedo launcher on the TCS Scimitar. Blazing across the stars with a trail of gray matter propelling it forward. Weapons Officer followed it with a countdown. Ishikawa closed his eyes at the blinding flash, then watched the yellow and red shock wave of explosive force tear apart the Romancer. "Helm, lay in a course to rendezvous site."

The lone Terran Confederation Murphy destroyer accelerated to her maximum cruise speed, hurrying itself towards the jump point. Michael felt a strange emptiness as he settled himself into the Captain's seat. He his face emotionless as he gazed into the opening jump point. The pull, the slight nausea and loss of balance followed. The jumpshock passes within seconds. He monitored the ship's progress as it cruised as maximum speed, quickly heading to its next nav point.

FINIS