Gremlins 2: GREM HARDER
Posted on Thursday October 15th, 2020 @ 9:03am by
Edited on on Thursday October 15th, 2020 @ 1:16pm
Mission:
The Forgotten Outpost
Location: Engineering
The term thaumatology had been coined by an obscure section of particularly classified Starfleet intelligence, and it's meaning was succinct and simple enough to define, yet the exact meanings of what in the bloody blue blazes it meant varied so wildly that intelligence officers assigned to the department were routinely rumored to have mind wipes.
Not that they'd know if they did.
As good a rumor as any.
Kathleen Lorrieta was one such officer, though her rising to such a position wasn't through intelligence. Instead, starting as a Marine field technician, through Starfleet Corps of engineers squad leader, the once borg woman had no real way of proving or disproving if her memory files were, in fact, routinely altered because they were files. When she was fully human, memories may have had clues. Hints. She barely remembered those.
She barely remembered anything about who she had been.
This assignment was about as well suited for an ex-borg hyper logical repair technician turned intelligence analyst as a Sol III bovine would be dancing at an interstellar ballet conference.
Thaumatology was quite simply put the study of miraculous or impossible events.
To date, Starfleet had an extensive catalog of these events as happening, and absolutely zero explanation of them, dating back as far as Earth's 20th century military posts.
As First Lieutenant Lorrieta stepped onto the base, her fascination grew.
There had been an energy wave. Only, there hadn't.
Nobody had any record of the energy wave her systems had the raw data of but no physical memory of any event associated with it.
She entered main engineering, and raised an eyebrow at the controlled chaos present.
She hadn't been assigned to DS3. Her ship had been docked here when her systems' raw data analysis flagged red in her internal Intel database. She did not immediately have access to the station personnel, but she froze in a very human manner, upon seeing a familiar face.
"Lyra Walsh?" Kathleen asked.
"MISS KATHY LADY!" Lyra exclaimed. "You're not assigned here!" She added, before wrapping Kathleen in a tight hug.
Kathleen stood there, awkwardly, and looked between others present, with a polite smile.
"I do the same thing." An Ensign noted.
"It is generally better to allow her to get it out of her system." Kathleen nodded.
"Why are you here, Kathy lady? And what's with the fancy uniform?" Lyra asked.
Kathleen reached into her pocket. "Starfleet intelligence. I want to know-"
"Why this Starbase suddenly is in absolutely absurdly pristine condition?" An Andorian asked, with an antennae twitch.
"We are attempting to deduce the exact same thing." The Vulcan Ensign added.
"You don't know?" Kathleen frowned. "I can't technically depart the station until the investigation is complete."
"You can hand the investigation off to another intelligence officer." The Vulcan Ensign noted.
"Strictly speaking, no I can't. That would take someone pretty high up the intelligence chain because I contain the only system that apparently retained any trace of the energy wave that did this. Plus, generally speaking, most intelligence officers are not class XIII certified." Kathleen retorted. "Don't ask. It's classified. I'm classified. I wasn't here. You didn't see anything."
"Kathy lady, I don't know what to tell you. I was just going to go get security and ask them for help looking for intruders because there is absolutely zero physical, technical, theoretical, or even vaguely gremlin-like explanation for this. One minute, we were just about to start repairs after unloading 23,000 files worth of damage reports on the commanding officer. The next, the lights are on, the carpet smells new, and the internal scanners show everything is fixed. Everything. Right down to the missing crew quarters that were previously scrapped for parts." Lyra looked worried.
"And all three of you can independently verify you have no way of tracking what happened?" Kathleen asked.
"The problem is, all the station computers reset to defaults. They don't seem to have any records of the actual event because they're different computer banks than what recorded it." The Andorian noted.
"Additionally, any handheld scanners, unlikely to be calibrated as they are, were also reset to factory settings." The Vulcan woman added.
Kathleen's demeanor twitched, and her frown deepened. "Holy. Shit."
Kathleen had been basically incapable of swearing since (classified event 2179), when her (classified personnel file) died, and she had suffered a minor breakdown that required her Borg implants to take more direct main control over her ability to think, but this warranted cursing if she ever heard a need, and the assistance algorithms agreed.
"What?" Lyra asked, blinking. "Are you okay, Kathy lady?"
"This is a Class A thaumatic event with no known origin, no cause, no explanation. It is well and properly... A miracle." Kathleen said, quietly. "I'll have to file a report immediately. Starfleet intelligence will want this watched, carefully."
"I was blaming it on the..." The Andorian paused, and gestured to Lyra.
"Norse God of treachery." Lyra filled in.
"Or possibly Gremlins?" The Vulcan added.
"Do you want to know the saddest, stupidest, most bizarre thing I've ever had to say?" Kathleen asked.
"What's that, Kathy lady?" Lyra scrunched up her face.
"I cannot ethically, in good conscience, as an officer of Starfleet intelligence discount either of those suggestions as possible explanations for what just happened on this Starbase." Kathleen said, quietly.
"That's messed up." The Andorian noted.
"Illogical." The Vulcan added, bewildered by this admission.
"Finally, someone else sees it." Lyra sighed.
"I really hope it's not Gremlins because I do not want to be the person trying to tell the commanding officer the cause after the paperwork we sent him today." The Andorian noted.
"You think that's bad?" Kathleen retorted. "I report directly to an Admiral who can make you, me, and half this crew disappear in a mysterious accident on paperwork. I'm about to go send him a report classified well above anyone in this sector's clearance level, including my own, that may implicate Gremlins as the only explainable reason why deep space three is impossibly up to factory specs and ready for all duties it is expected to perform at peak efficiency."
"If you get disappeared, Kathy lady, I promise to remember you fondly." Lyra said, quietly.
"That's very sweet, if a teeny bit superfluous and not helpful." The Andorian added.
"Not to mention the very high likelihood that all three of us would mysteriously disappear long before a respected and decorated intelligence officer." The Vulcan added.
"That's very cheerful." Lyra's tone went somber at that revelation.
"Yet plausibly accurate." Kathleen noted. "If you never hear from me again, assume none of this ever happened and it was classified high enough to warrant erasing your entire existence and family history out of every database everywhere."
"We're going to die, aren't we?" The Vulcan asked.
"That's going to depend entirely on Starfleet intelligence." Kathleen winced.
"Not reassuring, Kathy lady." Lyra looked down.
"I solve riddles. Reassurance is the job of the psychiatric department." Kathleen retorted.
"Ouch." Lyra grumbled.
"I'm serious. Tell your staff. Tell anyone you can find. This. Never. Happened."
"Okay, Kathy lady."
---
Lieutenant Lyra Bogdonavich
Chief engineer
First Lieutenant Kathleen Lorrieta
(CLASSIFIED)
Ensign T'val
Provisional assistant chief engineer
Lieutenant Junior Grade S'vai
Computer systems specialist
