Date: Wed, 27 Oct 2021 21:59:24 +0000 From: Ron Venable Subject: Lyra Chronicles 3 This is a work of gay-themed romantic fantasy. Some chapters, this one for example, contain graphic descriptions of sex between consenting adults: should reading material of this nature offend or upset you in any way--PLEASE CLICK AWAY NOW. Likewise if reading something like this should be illegal FOR WHATEVER REASON and would get one or both of us in trouble with your local Constabulary, please follow the above instructions and go find something safer to read. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the latest Chapter of The Lyra Chronicles CHAPTER THREE: Into the Forgotten Frontier SCENE ONE: Dr. Josh McClaren, Panda Conn, "the Speakeasy", Starship Lyra The doors to the Starship Lyra's Main Lounge "whooshed" open and Josh was surprised to find himself in what appeared to be a Dive Bar from the first half of the twentieth century. Instead of the white-on-white plasteel walls and floor that were common in virtually all Federation Starships, there seemed to be a wooden floor and dark green walls decorated with paintings and poster art from a bygone era. There was a stage at one end of the room with a small piano tucked into the corner and a host of earth-style musical instruments hanging at the ready. The other end of the room had an old-fashioned pool table, with balls at the ready and cues hung in a holder nearby. The expected plastiform furniture was replaced by excellent simulacrums of wooden tables and chairs. An old jukebox, all neon and chrome, occupied a prominent place in the room making Josh wonder what kind of music the Panda had stocked there. The bar was long and tall, with a slick wooden top: a row of stools waited invitingly for customers to arrive. There was even the smell of "old building" with a subtle undernote of spilled alcohol. Josh wondered how the proprietor had managed to get the room looking like this without the aid of a Holodeck. Panda Conn, still in ancient black and white clothing stood behind said bar. "Good afternoon Doctor!" he called jovially, "welcome to the Speakeasy! What can I do for you?" "You haven't come in for your exam ah--Mr. Conn..." the Doctor said. "I really need to get you into the records so I'd rather not have to have Security drag you in to Sickbay." "Forevermore why?" the man replied. "I'm not part of Starfleet: I'm just a Bartender, Oh, and it's just Conn or `Panda' if you prefer--not Mister Conn or Mr. Panda: Panda is simply my Order after all." "OK, Conn it is!" Then: "ah--do you mind if I ask a question?" "Feel free, my boy!" the man replied. "Of course, I reserve the right to spin a tall tale if I find the question uninteresting or stupid!" "Call it a request for information then," Josh said. "I've heard you are a member of something called the `Solemn Order of the Panda'. I've also heard you referred to as a `Master of the Nine Mysteries'. What is the `Order of the Panda', and what are the `Nine Mysteries'?" ""To be precise those are TWO questions Doctor," the older man replied. "Still, in the interest of educating you, I'll answer them truthfully! The Solemn Order of the Panda began on Earth during the Time of Troubles: `Panda' was a slang term for `panderer': we `Pandas' provided things people wanted: there were quite a number of shortages and many things were tightly controlled--so much so that even the wealthiest individuals couldn't always obtain the goods and services they wanted or needed. Earth still had `countries' at the time and some of them could be quite restrictive: the Pandas were there to provide the finer things! When someone needed something special a Panda could usually find a way to make sure they got it--for proper recompence of course... We also began to maneuver social and political situations toward a brighter outcome: that was, and continues to be, our primary mission." "Oh--kay..." Josh wasn't sure what to make of this so he simply decided to ask the next question. "What about the `Nine Mysteries' then?" "Look at my hands Doctor." The man spread his hands to better show the nine rings he wore. Each one was different but all were beautifully crafted and made from rare items. "Each ring represents the Mastery of a different Mystery--Patience, Puissance, Patterning and the rest. Each `Mystery' represents a secret body of hard-won knowledge from all over tis galaxy and beyond. Pandas have spent many lifetimes acquiring and refining what we learned. I have mastered all of them!" Josh chewed that over for a bit. He wasn't sure how much of the story he could believe: Panda Conn might have lied or exaggerated but there was something about this strange person that made him want to believe what Conn said "I suppose that explains why Captain Ramsey trusts you..." he finally allowed. "Captain Ramsey trusts me because I've proven trustworthy!" the Panda replied. "Trust is earned Doctor: it should never be given, or offered lightly. Remember that." "Um--OK. Now, about scheduling your visit to Sickbay..." SCENE TWO: Bridge, USS Lyra Lt. B.B. Wolfe stared at his board and growled: the "sensor anomaly" that had followed them since shortly after the Lyra departed Starbase 456 was still there. The diagnostic computer said there was nothing wrong with the board and Wolfe's limited knowledge hadn't helped: the only Instrument Technician aboard the Lyra couldn't find anything amiss: this left one final option. "Captain--I think you need to call McMasters to the Bridge..." Wolfe gave his boss a quick rundown of the problem. "Very well." Ramsey tapped his comm badge. "Kevin McMasters! Report to the Bridge immediately!" • - - - - The `Mad Toymaker' closed the panel and brushed back the hair that had fallen askew during his tinkering. "There's nothing wrong with your board Lieutenant," he told Wolfe. "Then what am I seeing?" the Dorsai warrior demanded. "Gimmie a sec'..." Kevin played the board like a virtuoso. "It's a cloaked ship!" he announced. "My guess is it's a Romulan Scout!" "What would Romulans be doing out here?" the Dorsai warrior wondered. "Aside from following us?" Kevin said. "I haven't any idea!" "The ship is too far away for me to get any kind of reading on them," Felicity Fortune offered from her position in the Counselor's Chair to the Captain's left. "Still, if the Romulans are following us and they are cloaked I doubt it bodes well for the Lyra." "Hail them Chee Lan!" the Captain said. "No response!" the Cynthian Communications Officer announced after a few tries. "Can you get a Tractor Beam on them Mr. Wolfe?" the Captain asked even as another spatial-temporal distortion jostled the ship. "If they won't talk to us voluntarily we may just have to force their hand!" "Trying Sir..." the Dorsai Warrior said as yet another wave crashed into the ship. Then: "unable to establish Tractor Lock Captain! Between the distortions and their cloak I can't grab anything. "Frankly I'm surprised our own shields are holding up against the battering we're taking!" "Rotating Shield Frequencies are neutralizing most of the effects," McMasters told him. "We shouldn't experience any negative effects from the distortion waves--unlike the ship that's trailing us!" "If they're going to be that way..." Ramsey stroked his chin. "Mr. Wolfe--fire a spread of photon torpedoes at that ship. Don't hit it but detonate them close enough to let them realize we know where they are and mean business!" "Should we risk that Captain?" Wolfe wondered. "Since we have the timing of the distortion wave you can fire the torpedoes between pulses," McMasters commented. "Do it then!" The Dorsai timed the shot and three torpedoes blasted from the rear tubes, detonating just in front, above and below the pursuing craft. "Looks like we scared them off Sir," the Dorsai warrior announced. "They are departing at high warp!" "FIFI. New standing orders," the Captain said. "If ANY cloaked ship comes within range--notify me so we can make attack plans!" Felicity Fortune spoke up: "are you sure that's wise Captain?" she asked. "They might simply be afraid of strangers..." "If they respond to friendly overtures we'll leave `em alone," the older man replied. "Still, we've had a tail since we left Starbase 456! That doesn't seem the least bit `friendly'!" SCENE THREE: Lt. Cdr. Reid Rogers, Dr. Josh McClaren, Holodeck One USS Lyra "Come on buddy, you can do it!" Josh called as the two men rode yet another perfect wave in the Doctor's "Surfing at Wanahakalugi" program. "Hang tight big guy--you're almost back to the beach!" "I got this!" the big, beefy red-haired Engineer said just before losing his balance and falling off his long board. "OK, I don't got this!" he announced, coming up out of the warm water. "At least I'm gettin' a bit better! Mebbe ya sh'd write a Stand-Up Paddleboard program! I c'd do that..." "No need," Josh told him. "There are plenty of good programs out there already. All the other surfing holoprograms are pretty lame though." Reid nodded. "I r'member you buggin' th' Environmental Scientist aboard th' Merriweather Lewis," he said. "You had a million questions!" The Doctor smiled. "I wanted to get the surf simulation just right!" he said. "It took me a while but I finally perfected it! Attention to the little details is how I got one of the top-selling holoprograms in the Federation!" "Ya got all the details right, I'll give y' that," the beefy redhead replied. "I've never been t' Pacifica `r surfed on any planet." The two men walked out of the rolling surf and onto the pearlescent beach. "I gotta say if this is anythin' like y'r home world it's a mighty fine place!" "Wanahakalugi is the best surf break on Pacifica--maybe even the entire Alpha Quadrant!" Josh said proudly. "Too bad there isn't someplace we c'n lay down f'r a bit..." Reid remarked, looking at the empty beach. "Oh, I can fix that!" the Doctor replied. "This program has some special add-ons--just in case you want to do something other than surf! Computer--beachside cabana!" An open-sided wooden structure appeared on the white sand with a large daybed front and center. "Is this what you had in mind buddy?" "I'd say ya read m' mind..." Reid gave his best friend a hot-eyed smile, "but ya swear ya can't do that!" Josh returned the hot glance, staring downward at the Chief Engineer's thick cock standing away from the forest of russet curls. "It wasn't your MIND I read, buddy!" he teased. Reid traced the Doctor's gaze downward. "Yep, that feller always had a mind of `is own!" "That's why I always liked that guy!" Josh said with a lascivious grin. The Doctor climbed onto the daybed and laid back. "Care to join me, Reid?" "I thought you'd never ask!" The big beefy redhead joined Josh on the bed and soon the two men were straining against each other, kissing passionately. "Damn buddy, I've missed this!" Reid panted, briefly breaking the kiss before going back in for another one. Josh stroked the other man's broad back. "You know, for a backwoods boy you're a pretty darn good kisser!" Reid smiled. "Ain't much t' do back home but mess around..." Josh wriggled under the big redhead. "Wanna mess around then?" The other man smiled. "Oh, I do! I do!" Reid began kissing his way down the Doctor's smooth, well-muscled chest, pausing briefly at the ridged belly then moving on to kiss and lick Josh's massive erection. Once the other man was writhing in excitement Reid moved further down and began flicking his tongue in and out of Josh's moist, quivering asshole. "Damn!" he growled, "I love eatin' Deltan manpussy!" The tanned, blond surfer bucked as Reid's large capable hands worked him over. "Oh GOD yes!" he moaned. "Thank the powers!" Deltans had a biological peculiarity that made their back-doors slick when anything was going in or out, making anal sex not only easy for both sexes but very pleasurable: although he hadn't inherited much from his Deltan ancestors, aside from this particular quirk the Doctor was glad of this change. The lingual assault continued on the Doctor's pink pucker until Josh was more than ready for the Chief Engineer's cock. "Fuck me, Reid!" he panted. "FUCK ME!" "Happy t' oblige ol' Son!" Reid spread his friend's legs and fitted his massive erection against the tight ring of the Doctor's tunnel. He pushed slowly forward until the entire massive column was buried deep inside Josh's quivering hole. "Damn buddy, I've missed this!" "Me too big guy!" Josh said, squeezing his friend with powerful legs. "Now--fuck me!" Reid began moving, his massive rod sliding in and out of the other man's slick, yielding tunnel. "Oh yeah big guy! Fuck that ass!" The Doctor's tight tunnel yielded easily to Reid's invading member and soon both men were grunting lustily as the redhead pounded his best friend. "I'm--comin'!" Reid bellowed, releasing a flood of thick white cream deep into Josh's bowels. "Sorry that was so fast..." he said, bending down to give the Doctor a kiss. "At least I'm still hard so we don't hafta end the party just yet..." SCENE FOUR: Lt. Cdr. Sascha Markov, Ensign Matthieu d'Arlequin, Science Center USS Lyra "So--is this everybody?" "I'm afraid so, bubelehs," Sascha said, looking over the small group of Science Officers under her command. "We're all we've got so we'll just have to make do!" "Are you going to hand out assignments?" Lt. John Phillips asked. "We need to know what you expect from us." "I was hoping you'd ask..." Sascha smiled. "John, you and Michy, being Botanists, aren't going to have a lot to do until we reach a planet. Since we don't have any Ship's Gardeners, both of you will be taking care of the Arboretum." "Excuse me, what--you want us to be Gardeners?" Lt JG Michele Phillips, was a slim, elegant lady with light brown hair and green eyes. (Sascha privately wondered how a schlub like John managed to land a hottie like her.) "I really don't think I like that!" "I really don't think I CARE, dahlink!" Sascha replied tartly. "This ship is massively understaffed so the crew is going to have to pick up the slack! Besides, the Arboretum is a critical part of the oxygen recycling system on the Lyra: it NEEDS to stay in perfect working order so we can keep breathing. Lucky for you, most of the manual labor will be done by robots--the heavy stuff anyway, All you two really need to do is make sure they do their job!" The conference room was shaken as the Lyra surfed over yet another spacial-temporal distortion. "Zal, you being an Astrophysicist, you get elected to see if you can figure out what these damn things are and where they are coming from!" "On it Chief!" "Denny--since you're a Xenologist, you'll have to find something to occupy yourself until we hit our first planet: maybe you can help out some of the others..." Lt. Doherty, a short, slim redhead with the look of a leprechaun, smiled. "Whatever you say Commander!" he said brightly. "I've got a lot of stuff I need to organize from the Creeque Alley mission: that'll keep me busy!" "Good enough then!" Sascha told him. Then she turned to the next men on her list. "McGuinn and McGuire, you two will be handling Astrometrics: the Federation doesn't have anything but rudimentary star maps of the Forgotten Frontier: they want this sector completely charted!" "We've already begun," McGuire told the Chief Science Officer. "Luckily the Lyra has excellent equipment." "Good enough then," Sascha said. "Let me know if you find anything out of the ordinary The Captain will want to know if we need to divert to check out something unusual!" "Aye, aye Sir!" "So what about Cass and me?" Lt. Sebastian wanted to know. "Sebastian, since you're a Planetary Surveyor you'll have to use distance telescopes to start the surveys," Sascha told him. "Cass, as a Xenosociologist and Exolinguist, you'll have to see what you can find from Commscans A lot of the planets out here are human colonies--or are supposed to be anyway so that'll give you a jump: still, we're going to need all the data you can give us before we make contact." Lt. Cass Elyot sighed. She was a very large brown-haired woman from the heavy-gravity planet of Swarthmore. The woman pointed at the last man in the room, Ensign Matthieu d'Arlequin. "What about him?" she demanded. "I need to talk to him," the Chief Science Officer said. "The rest of you are dismissed!" The group scattered leaving Sascha alone with the young-looking Ensign. "Mr. d'Arlequin, I have some questions..." "I'd be happy to answer them if I can Commander," Matt replied. He was only about 5'6" and built like a gymnast. His golden hair was an untidy mop of waves and curls. He looked at her with guileless eyes, one brown and one blue. What's up?" "I'll be blunt," Sascha said. "What are you doing in the Sciences? Aren't you the guy who revealed the fact that Starfleet was kidnapping and cloning Pacificans?" "I am," the man replied bluntly. "Care to elaborate?" "That particular incident caused a LOT of trouble for the Federation in general and Starfleet in particular," Matt told her. "Pacifica almost ended up leaving the Federation over what happened and Betazed and the Deltans came pretty close to joining them! Considering how the Federation is reeling after the Dominion War they don't want to lose a couple of founding members!" "This is true," Sascha said. "Do go on!" "You no doubt know the `responsible parties' were punished..." Matt said. "But they didn't get everybody, did they?" Sascha asked. "Not by a longshot!" the younger man replied. "They sacrificed a few `goats' but a lot of the people who helped that happen didn't get convicted, much less charged with anything: most of them are still serving in the same posts, Some even got promoted!" "So why were they kidnapping Pacificans?" Sascha wanted to know. Privately she had her suspicions due to Dr. McClaren's unique genetic heritage but she wanted to hear it from the Ensign. "They all have an ability to disrupt Borg communication," Matt replied. "It shows up in folks with the right combination of Betazoid, Deltan and Human heritage: it's a complex formula but Federation Scientists figured out the pattern." "Dr. McClaren has that ability." Sascha remarked. "I realize it could be useful against the Borg--for a while at least! Still, cloning ANYONE against their will, even for a good cause, is wrong!" Matt nodded. "Our good Doctor has no idea how close he came to being an unwilling cell donor! Luckily, I broke the case wide open before they were able to nick him from DS4." "Thank you for your service Mr. d'Arlequin," Sascha said. "How did you end up in my Science department?" "I'm a fully-qualified Science Generalist Commander--just like you," Matt told her directly. "You know that Starfleet requires double specializations for anyone who enters the Academy? I chose Science and Security" Sascha nodded. "Still, someone with your skill set really should be in Security, don't you think?" "Right now I'm too hot to handle," Matt said forthrightly. "It's next-to-impossible for me to do undercover work because my face is far too recognizable..." "...and the people in Starfleet that didn't get `sacrificed' want revenge for ruining their perfect plan to deal with the Borg," the woman observed. "Exactly!" the young man replied. "Admiral Garrity thought it would be best if I would `disappear' for a few years--which is why I ended up here! If the need arises I can always backup shipboard Security." "In that case we'll find something to keep you busy!" SCENE FIVE: "CPO" Jonas Niedermeyer: Security Ward Room, USS Lyra Crewman Candace Pierpont LeParc found Jonas Niedermeyer hanging around the Security Ward Room. "I've reloaded the three photon torpedoes," she told the man. As a half-Khund she stood just over eight feet tall and was broad enough to make getting through doors an awkward experience. Unlike the pink-skinned Khunds, her flesh was a decidedly peach tone and her eyes were amber. "Why did you fire those torpedoes?" Niedermeyer demanded. "Dear heart, you know I'm not cleared to do that!" Candi said, tossing her carefully-styled bright orange hair. "A cloaked ship has been following us since we left Starbase 456 so the Captain decided to scare it off! From what I hear it was a Romulan Scout: it headed for parts unknown at high warp!" Niedermeyer fought hard to control his face. How the hell had the Captain even managed to detect his ride home? No doubt it was due to some trick the Mad Toymaker pulled out of his ass. Still, with his ride home scarpering for parts unknown, Niedermeyer didn't have any choice but to figure out what he was going to do: much as he wanted to see Admiral Faraday's objectives achieved, now things would have to change. His role had gone from Prison Guard to just another prisoner. Now the only question was--what was he going to do?" SCENE SIX: Ensign Steven Friday, Escape Pod, somewhere in the Forgotten Frontier. ATTENTION! LONG RANGE SENSORS HAVE DETECTED A SHIP APPROACHING AT WARP SIX. PLEASE ADVISE COURSE OF ACTION! Ensign Steven Friday roused himself from what passed for sleep since the Oblivians had reconstructed his body. "Can you determine the origin of said ship?" he asked the computer If it was from the Gi or Humanx he would risk contact since they tended to be curious and interested in other races. He'd have to carefully consider whether or not to make contact if it turned out to be an aes Dana craft or a Tigery ship: there was no telling how those would react. The AAnn or Firbolg were definite no-gos since they would more likely try to eat him as talk (and Friday could expect, at best, a lifetime of slavery with those two). Still, it had been many months since he'd had anything resembling social interaction and he was just about ready to risk anything for a little "human" contact. WORKING... The computer was silent for several minutes while it ran every scan the small craft had. Finally he got the answer: TECHNOLOGY IS CONSISTENT WITH UNITED FEDERATION OF PLANETS. THE STARSHIP IS OF AN UNKNOWN DESIGN. So the Federation had decided to find out what happened to the Merriweather Lewis, Friday realized. Why they chose to send a new type of starship was a question he could answer if and when he was rescued. "Computer, send a distress signal please..." SCENE SEVEN: Bridge, USS Lyra "Captain, I'm picking up a distress signal," Chee Lan exclaimed. "It's Federation!" Captain Ramsey sat up straighter in his command chair as another wave of spatial-temporal distortion rocked the Lyra. "Identification?" "A moment Sir," the Communications Officer said. Then: "Escape Pod 5, USS Merriweather Lewis with one person aboard!" "Mr. Thomas, set a course to intercept the Escape Pod!" the Captain ordered. "Head us there at the safest possible speed!" "Aye Sir," the Navigator replied. "Captain--as we get deeper into these distortion waves we're going to need to slow down since those waves destabilize our warp fields!" "Very well Mr. Thomas," the Captain agreed. "Safety first! It would never do to have the Lyra need rescuing." Then: "Chee Lan--hail the Pod. Tell them we are on our way and will be there soon as may be!" END CHAPTER THREE AUTHOR'S AFTERWARD I am sad to announce that my Editor-in-Chief "Marko the Magnificent" has chosen to move on to pursue other endeavors. Working with him was sometimes difficult, often challenging but ultimately rewarding. I trust you will join me in extending a heartfelt "thank you" for all his hard work. He was much appreciated and will be sorely missed. Thanks to "Rockin' Robyn" for helping to proofread and edit. Thanks also to those of you who have written: I always enjoy your notes and truly appreciate your encouragement--especially because of my sporadic output. I actually have a plot for the Lyra Chronicles (unlike my other works) so I know where this thing needs to go. I appreciate you coming along for the journey. If you have questions, comments, suggestions or complaints feel free to drop me a line at HonableRonable@gmail.com (my preferred address) or RonVenable@hotmail.com (the address I have to submit these stories to Nifty. I always write back--eventually but it may take some time. Keep Nifty free so donate, Donate, DONATE!!!