With the trouble with taters resolved, the Enterprise has been making good time toward the distant space station that sits at the edge of a dangerous wormhole. Now that we are out of danger, the crew has begun to relax, even though we are approaching the outer limits of explored space. I hope that this is not the wrong time for us to let down our guard, here at the final frontier.
With the threat of Captain Sweet Tater evidently vanquished, Captain Kirk has gone back to his favorite pastime of boldly going where no man has gone before:
But this idyllic period of peaceful spaceflight proves to be all too brief, as the Enterprise is suddenly rocked by a series of unexplained blasts, just shy of reaching its destination at the space station that orbits the mysterious and powerful wormhole.
As the systems begin to fail throughout the ship, Uhura makes a chilling announcement:
The Enterprise has blundered into a booby-trap set by Captain Sweet Tater, who must have known we would take this course to reach safety and obtain repairs. Unfortunately, the ship’s shields were at minimal strength, and the engineering department is unable to keep up with the spreading fires and structural damage. Reluctantly, Captain Kirk makes the announcement we have all been dreading.
Now we must take our chances in the escape shuttles. Realizing that I have left my favorite hat in my quarters, I hurry to retrieve it, only to be cut off from the main deck when the hull’s structural integrity is breached. Unable to return to the others, I take refuge in one of the older escape shuttles in the cargo bay. Unfortunately, this shuttle is not in good repair, and its engines prove inadequate to escape the gravitational pull of the wormhole. Before Kirk can effect a rescue, I find myself pulled into the swirling depths of the black hole.
As the shuttle careers through the uncharted depths of space and time, I am able to console myself with the thought that the others likely reached the space station safely, and that I have seen the last of Captain Sweet Tater and his tricks.
When the ship at last emerges on the other side of the wormhole, I am in a place that matches no star charts, a trackless void. I cannot tell what galaxy I am in, but I suspect it is far away from home; I cannot tell what era I am in, but the ship’s computers tell me it may be in the distant past. The small vessel lacks long-range sensors, but I can see something nearby, hanging in the emptiness of space.
The object is too small to be a planet; perhaps it is a moon, cast free in some ancient cataclysm. With nothing else of note nearby, I set a course for it. Perhaps once I arrive, I will be able to glean some bit of information that will tell me where and when I am; because I am Dennis the Vizsla, and I never give up.