Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters.
Frog people?
“What the….” Picard stopped short. There were five green figures on the bridge.
Creatures none of them hadseen before.
“Hmm,” Data voiced, “frogs with hair.” He sat back down at his console.
Deanna controlled a giggle. She got a stern look from the Captain.
“What are you doing now Data?” Wil asked.
“I am attempting to vent the atmosphere inside the vessel. It is methane with a trace amount of oxygen.”
“Methane?” Westerfield questioned.
“Normal atmospheric levels are rising.” Data continued working on his console. “Atmospheric levels at 50, 60, 70, 80, 90, 100%.”
“What is normal atmospheric level?” Picard asked.
“100% oxygen.”
“You are kidding?” Will scoffed.
Data kept working away at his console. His station would make periodic high-pitched beeping sounds.
“What is that racket?” Westerfield snapped.
“I am attempting to regulate the oxygen levels to more of a humanoid intake. Earth’s atmosphere is 79% nitrogen and 21 % oxygen. The lowest it is allowing me to go is a 90/10 mix. 90% oxygen and 10% nitrogen.” His console beeped again. He turned to the Captain shaking his head.
Deanna, Wil, Data, and Geordi, check it out.” Picard ordered. “I want answers.”
“Yes sir.” They said in unison.
Once they were aboard the Jormungand, Data flipped out his tricorder to take readings from the ship. “You might experience a slight headache. The longer you are here, the less it will hurt.”
“No one is alive here.” Deanna said with a heavy heart.
“And it stinks.” Geordi crinkled his nose. “Ewe.”
They were standing in a large room. There were tapestries hanging on the walls, four on either side. Great tapestries.
Data saw himself sitting at a desk. His fingers covered with charcoal dust. The drawings were everywhere around him. He heard her voice in the background dictating what she wanted. Her voice drove him mad. He wanted to reach into his mind and pull her out.
“Would you look at those.” Geordi marveled. His voice brought Data back into the large room.
“How old do you think they are?” Wil questioned.
Each tapestry had a lover’s scene on it, a romantic couple sitting on a swing, a man playing the violin for his lady; one was especially painful for Data, a picnic scene. The room oozed of love.
“I believe we have saw enough of the ballroom.” Data shocked them. “Shall we locate the bridge now?” His voice was harsh.
The three looked bewildered as Data walked away. “Data?” Wil asked as they walked. “What was that little display on the bridge?”
“What display sir?”
“Your disappearing act with the Captain?”
Data stopped in the door of the ballroom. “There are people on the Enterprise that are not welcomed over here.” He kept walking.
Upon exiting the ballroom, they entered a hallway. Clear glass cases on black marble pedestals lined the walls.
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