The Arrival of the Ibn Bondi

Posted on Sat Jan 13th, 2024 @ 4:45pm by Captain Samuel Woolheater
Edited on on Sun Jan 14th, 2024 @ 3:39am

Mission: Season 6: Episode 4: Memory Lane
Location: Starbase 40 - Milky Way Galaxy - Alpha Quadrant - Deep Space
Timeline: MD05 - Late
4411 words - 8.8 OF Standard Post Measure

[ON: “The Arrival of the USS Ibn Bondi”]


It is exceedingly rare that a Federation Starship goes missing. Starships either launch and return from their mission or they crash and are destroyed. But they can be counted on to do one or the other. This morning, the Ibn Bondi ceased to be a standard issue ship of the line Miranda-class science vessel. As of its arrival at 0830 this morning to Starbase 40 it became an enigma. A one-hundred and fifty metric tonne puzzle. With a crew compliment of two-hundred and ninety it became the problem of Starbase 40 and particularly that of her dockmaster one William Carroll.

The Ibn Bondi first appeared on Starbase 40’s long range sensors yesterday. She was travelling at full impulse. She didn’t answer any hails. Her current heading was a collision course with the Starbase. Space superiority fighters were dispatched to investigate. Seeing no damage to the ship, they were puzzled that their sensor scans were reflected, and no reading could be taken.

Space Traffic Control (STC) took remote command of the ship by using her unique ID prefix command code. The prefix code was a numbered code individually assigned to each Federation starship. It was a defensive measure designed to help Starfleet personnel combat enemies who had seized control of a ship of the fleet, and to prevent enemy ships from attempting to seize control of a Starfleet vessel.

When the relevant code was entered into the computer system of another ship, that ship was able to remotely control systems on the other ship. This included weapons and defense systems, which enabled the controlling ship to reduce the seized ship's fighting capabilities to permit effective attacks.

STC entered the command prefix code of “2 – 2 – 5 – 0 – 1 – 2” and the dockmaster gained remote control of the ship, bringing her at a safe speed and piloting her to a discreet docking bay not too close to anything else. Using the ships internal sensors a most unusual thing was discovered.

Ibn Bondi had no crew. Two-hundred and ninety crew was her compliment and, according to the computer records, she left the Cesta system three days ago fully crewed. There were no personal logs. Not one. There were no Captain’s logs after departure. What the logs did show was that her course was set at the HELM station for Starbase 40, the next port of call. Her speed was set at warp four which would have meant a twelve-hour journey. And that’s where everything stops. Systems logs, Engineering logs, all the automated systems record nothing abnormal.

The escape pods are in place. There were no dockings with other vessels. She remained at warp for eleven hours and fifty-nine minutes and then dropped out of warp to full impulse. There were no transporters activated and the transporter buffers were not purged. They had the last transporter records from twelve-hours ago. But they had not been used.

Ibn Bondi was motionless in the docking bay. A fire team of Marines met with Starfleet security to back them up and board the vessel. Engineers were called in and while the sensors read a breathable atmosphere, everyone was in an environment suit to be on the safe side. This could be a virus of some kind people speculated. Dockmaster William Carroll stood there looking at the Ibn Bondi. He swore that he could see her glow with red, ethereal light and it gave him the haunting creeps.

“Are you Bill Carroll?” a voice behind him asked. Bill turned to see another man standing there. He was also in an environment suit with the helmet off. He was a man in his early sixties Bill guessed. His gray hair was earned and the wrinkles and crows feet, the lines of concern and detective work were etched onto his face.

“Abner Weed, Commander Starfleet Maintenance Operations. I’m here at the request of TYCOM and Starfleet Special Operations.” He said, offering Bill a handshake.

Bill took the handshake, “Special Operations?”

Abner smiled back, “Not that kind of special operations. I’m here to help you with your little mystery here.”

Bill was still skeptical, “OK, well if not that kind of special ops then, what kind?”

Abner answered, “Starfleet Operations don’t like missing crew. Now, I don’t know anything more about what we’re dealing with here than you do. TYCOM (Type Yard Command, Operations & Maintenance) wants to have a first look to see what happened. People are going to notice 290 people missing. And in twenty-four to forty-eight hours, you’re going to have to start cooking up stories unless we can get to the bottom of this. I see you added Marines. You expect trouble?”

Bill answered, still not convinced entirely. But he had to accept that Weed was right, 290 was a lot of crew missing. “I always expect trouble. Put your helmet on and let’s get over there.”


The docking clamps were connected, and the dock gangway contacted the hull. The light was green as the seal was made. Several decks above and below were evacuated quietly. Just in case there were explosives, they had a Sapper among them, Corporal Evan Griffin. The doors opened and they boarded the ship.


Ibn Bondi

A crewless ship is a ghastly thing. Everything was on, lights, gravity, air. There was no crew. They formed three search parties, “Keep your COMM open at all times.”

Bill led Abner, two Security and two Marines to the bridge. There wasn’t a soul here. Weed’s voice broke the eerie silence, “Computer is online. I’m downloading the logs.” Weed’s tricorder started the download.

Bill walked around the bridge, scanning for anything that might shed some light on what happened. “This is Sarah Moyers ship. Dean Smith is her XO. They’re a good team. They wouldn’t abandon the ship without a good reason.”

Abner, finishing up the download said, “Starship’s can’t fly themselves for very long. I don’t how good your computer system is. And the logs show that no one left. And…” he closed the terminal now that the download was complete. “…the ship wasn’t put on autopilot or any other computer control. Someone, the crew, pointed her in this direction and then simply vanished.”

“Nothing on this deck sir. Ready room, conference room, turboshafts…whatever happened here; we missed it.” The security officer said. The other teams searching the ship said the same thing. A completely empty ship.

“This is the damndest thing I ever did see!” Bill said. “Let’s look at the weapons. See if they fired anything?”

“Good idea” Abner led them over to the tactical station and logged in. He reviewed the inventory, “Full load. Torpedo’s all here. I’m checking phasers…I’ll check shield emitters too.” After a long moment, “Phasers have not been discharged. Hell, they haven’t even come online in three weeks. Shields not energized and the grid is…intact.”

“Have one of the teams report to sickbay. Download the medical logs. Let’s look in the science labs too. Maybe somebody’s pet monster was hungry” Bill said deadpanned.

“Certainly cleaned up after itself if that’s the case.” Abner said as they all left the bridge.

It felt good to get off the bridge. They all, in different ways and to different degrees, felt like they were being watched. One of the Marines spoke up and said, “There was a little too much blue up there. Made it feel like a medical ship more than a science ship you know?” Abner nodded.

Arriving at Sickbay, everything was neat and tidy and in order. “Is the EMH still online?” Bill asked. “Yes sir” the security officer answered. “Good” Bill nodded, “Computer, activate the EMH program.”

The EMH Mark I came online and materialized before them, “Please state the nature of the medical emergency.”

“What has happened to your crew?” Bill asked the EMH directly.

“You’re not a member of this crew. I should be asking you what has happened to my crew. Who are you and what are you doing on the Ibn Bondi?”

“Your ship is missing her entire crew. They all vanished. Leaving nothing behind. All their personal effects, all the cargo, all the supplies…everything is gone. When was the last time you were activated?”

The EMH searched his database, “Stardate 74865.7. I was treating Ensign Buurl for an excess of intestinal bloating and gas due to the previous day’s chili cook-off. What do you mean everyone is gone?”

Abner looked at Bill, “I know what you’re thinking. But I don’t think one Ensign no matter how much he could have possibly farted could clear a whole starship of her crew.”

Bill grimaced, “They had to go somewhere, and they didn’t take any shuttles, or escape pods and the transporter log shows no transporter or boarding activity.” He turned to the EMH again, “How about the time before that? Anything unusual? Any emergency that would help us find out what happened to the crew?”

Indignantly the EMH responded, “I’m a Doctor, not a Concierge!”

“You’re possibly the last one to see any of this crew alive” Bill said staring him down. “Anything?”

The EMH looked flustered and said, “Some of the crew were reporting nightmares. In fact, a good number of the crew. I treated them with a mild analgesic and the more severe cases I treated with sedation. We were waiting for the last bit of telemetry from the VLA probes that had been launched a year ago.”

“VLA probes?” Bill asked the EMH. Abner answered by reading his tricorder, “Very Large Array…a long-distance radio-baric sensor array tasked with gathering data from the very furthest of galaxies. In 2387, the VLA, Mark VII was directed to scan the Circinus galaxy thirteen million light years distant. The estimated length of the project is ten years.”

The EMH added, “The ship was gathering the last of that telemetry and then we decommissioned the array. That’s the last I heard. Nobody tells me anything.”

Weed kept his cool. He made no sign or tic. He made no outward indication. ~Circinus!~ he thought. He said, “Thank you, you’ve been most helpful. Computer, deactivate the EMH.”

“Now just a damn minute!...” and then the EMH vanished as it was turned off.

“I really don’t like those things” Weed said.

“Maybe not, but it’s a place to start looking.” Bill Carroll replied.


As the remaining teams met up again, they all reported the same thing. The ship was deserted. They left the ship and walked onto the gangway leading back into the starbase. As they were walking, a Security guard was speaking, and he made mention of the redness of the carpet. And that stuck in Bill’s mind.

STARBASE 40 – CONFERENCE ROOM – LEVEL 113

It was a few hours of going over the logs. Carroll, Weed and the other dockmaster had interviewed everyone who had any contact with the Ibn Bondi. They spoke to the STC operator, the space fighter crew, the ground crew that moored the ship, the OPS people who scanned the interior but had their scans reflected. Nothing, other that the obvious stuck out. Bill got up and got another cuppa.

“Something’s that been bothering me” he said as he picked up the mug from the replicator.

“Yeah?” Abner said as he sat back in the chair frustrated. “What’s that?”

“What color was the carpet?” he said. A beat passed and he turned and walked back to the table and sat down. “On the ship.”

“We have better things to do right than talk about the interior decoration? Then talk about the interior decorating choices of the builders. Now come on” Abner replied.

“What color? The Security guard said on the gangway that the carpets were red. But the Marine on the turbolift commented on how blue they were. What color?”

Abner was perplexed and intrigued, “I think…brown. Brown is what I saw. What did you see?”

Bill sat forward, “The carpets are green.”

“So we all saw a different color, what are you getting at?”

Bill replied, “You don’t think that’s odd huh? I can tell you partner; you clean enough blood, vomit, and shit off the carpets you know what color they are. And Starfleet don’t spring for the ‘extras package’ very often.” Bill tapped the COMM panel,

=A= Tooley? Are the Security team ad the Marines still here with you? =A=

=A= Yes sir. Are we dismissed? =A=

=A= Not quite. I want to see the Marine that went with me to the Bridge. And I want to see that tall, lanky fella who is on your team, Stretch. =A=

=A= You bet. I’ll send them in right away =A=

“Now, before they get in here, I want you to level with me OK?” Bill asked.

“What do you mean?” Weed looked up at him.

Bill took a drink of his coffee and then set the mug down, “TYCOM didn’t send you here. Special Operations did. And you know what kind of special operations I’m talking about. One of the puzzle pieces about this mystery and buddy, I have seen a lot of mysteries in my time, is the VLA. Starfleet and the science geeks put out a big ass antenna to listen to and peer over a galaxy some thirteen million lights years away. Why?”

Weed answered coolly, “It’s why we’re out here. And I think that if you contact TYCOM…”

Bill gave him the look, “Zip it. I asked you to level with me.” He held his gaze on the man.

Abner held his gaze just as steady, leaned forward, “Circinus is just another galaxy. It was set up a long time ago and is a galaxy that is far, far away. It’s just another science project.”

Bill Carroll was a very good judge of character. He had been at this for many years and he considered himself an expert at uncovering bullshit. His eyes searched the face of Weed and then he said, “OK, that’s what I needed to know.”

The two other men walked in and sat down.

“You said something in the gangway about how red the carpets were on the ship right?” Bill asked.

The Security Officer answered, “Well, yes sir. I thought it was a kind of vibrant red. It reminded me of another Miranda-class that my sister served on. They had red carpets too.”

Bill nodded and smiled, “uh huh”. Turning his attention to the Marine he asked, “You were with us on the bridge. Were the carpets red?”

The Marine answered, “I saw blue. Very blue. Like too much blue.”

Abner said, “I saw brown.”

“And I saw them as green” Bill answered and then stood up. He headed for the large bay window that looked out into the docking bay where Ibn Bondi was moored. Bill thought that she still had that red, ethereal glow to her. He said, “Marine? Do you see a registry number on that ship?”

“Sure I do” he said as he looked out the window. “Its NCC-34635”

Bill nodded, “Security? Do you see any numbers out there for a registry number?”

“NCC-16879” the Security officer said.

Bill looked over at Abner, “You?”

“NCC-19131, What does it mean? What’s the matter? Are we all going crazy?”

“Computer? What is the registry number for the USS Ibn Bondi?

The computer whirred and chirped as it searched the database,

=A= There is only one starship in service that bears that name. The registry number for USS Ibn Bondi is NCC-56784. Built by Universal Spacecraft Systems, Utopia Planetia Shipyards and commissioned on stardate…=A=

“STOP. That’s enough. Gentlemen, I think I’ve solved our lil ol’ mystery here. But…you ain’t going to like the answer. And in order to prove it, I’ll have to put myself in considerable danger.”

They all looked at Bill as if he had lost his mind. “What do you know…or have you ever heard of mass suggestion?”

Now, they were sure. Abner looked the most gobsmacked and said, “So?”

“I think that’s what we’re dealing with here. A kind of mass hypnosis is on all of us. It concerns that ship out there. Now, here’s the part where things are going to get weird.”


“To pit it more bluntly or perhaps less believably...” he took the rest of his cuppa and downed it, “I think…that ship out there…isn’t there…at all” he said setting the cup down.

“But, we all boarded it. All of us. On different decks, we searched the whole thing.” The Security guard said.

Bill turned and looked at him, “Did we. I think each of us has had a little bit of hypnosis put on us. Someone, somewhere, told all of us that yesterday we would have a Miranda-class starship arrive and we would tow it into the dock, and we would board it. A little suggestion. Unconsciously, maybe. And so, we believed it. And each of us has pictured in his mind a Miranda-class starship as he knows one. That explains the color and the number differences.”

They were speechless. And they questioned his sanity.

“Don’t you understand what I’m trying to say? We’ve been hoodwinked, fooled, jibber-jabbered…for reasons yet unknown.” Bill said. He could see the looks on their faces. “That ship isn’t there. It doesn’t exist!”

Abner Weed crossed his arms, “Have you lost your mind? We scanned it, I downloaded the logs, I checked the weapons inventory. We walked the decks, rode in the turbolifts, we spoke to the EMH.”

“Alright, so it’s a very, very, very good illusion. It’s still an illusion.” Bill stated.

“What about the computer entry? You’re saying it doesn’t exist. So how come the computer has a record of it?” the Security guard wanted to know.

“There may be only one Ibn Bondi. But it is not in our space dock. And we did not board it. And it is not there. You want me to prove it to you? Ok, I will. There’s just one problem. If you’re wrong and there really is no ship, then we simply have a bigger problem on our hands. If I’m wrong, I’m also dead.”

Bill walked to the console a called for the dock crew, =A= Kwan? I’m going to need an environment suit again. And I need you to transport me to the ship. The mystery ship. Can you do that for me? =A=


STARBASE 40 – LEVEL 113 – TRANSPORTER SUITE #33

Bill stepped onto the transporter pad. His environment suit was on and functioning well. “Just beam me over to the bridge. I was wondering why there are no transporter logs. I think whoever, or whatever is doing this can’t handle the randomness of the transporter and the dematerialization. If I’m right, then we have a bigger mystery on our hands. If I’m wrong; tell my wife that I love her.”

Abner still doubtful nodded and said, “Energize.”

The transporter cycle started, the whine of the coils and the fizz of the Heisenberg compensators came to life and in a brilliant display, William Carroll was transported to the Ibn Bondi bridge. At least he hoped so.

They left the transporter suite and ran back to the conference room. The Marine and the Security guard had stayed behind to see what would happen to the ship in the dock. Kwan, the transporter chief and Abner Weed came in to see. They called to Bill, =A= Bill! Did you make it? =A=

William Carroll started to rematerialize. He became aware that he was being transported. He could start to see the bridge consoles, the green carpet and the…wait.

It all winked away!

POOF!

Gone!

Bill materialized eighty meters into an empty dock. The Ibn Bondi was gone.

=A= Well, gentlemen? We have a new kind of problem now, don’t we? Either that or we are all going to need our heads examined. =A=

There was a pause. Bill looked over to the interior docking conference room. He could see four figures standing there. They looked somewhat…shadowy…and one by one. They also vanished into thin air.

=A= Hey! Abner? Kwan? Where are you guys? Hey? Hey!! Hey SOMEBODY! Get me out of here! Help! Help me?! =A=

Panic stricken at seeing people he knew just disappear, he tried to call for help. Suddenly, he felt enveloped by a transporter beam again. The familiar tickling of being turned into energy and then he rematerialized a moment later on a transporter pad on the station.

A transporter technician and a Security guard walked in to help. They helped him out of his gear, but they didn’t know anything about him being transported to a ship. He was taken to the dockmaster, Commander Abner Weed.

Bill walked into the Command area of the STC. He went to Abner, “What’s going on here? You put a scare into me disappearing like that!”

Abner Weed stood up and had a most curious expression on his face, “Come again?”

“We were just in the conference room! Kwan transported me to the Ibn Bondi. Just a few minutes ago. Where’s everyone who was there? What’s going on here?”

At that moment, the tall, lanky “stretch” Security guard walked in. Bill recognized him and said, “Hey? He was there too. You, Kwan, Stretch here and the Marine. Where’d you guys go?”

Abner signaled to the Security officers that he could handle this, “What’d you say your name was?”

“I didn’t. And you know my name. I’m Bill Carroll. I’m the dockmaster.” Bill answered angrily and confused.

Abner, Stretch and Bill looked at each other and Bill said in a loud voice, “We were dealing with the Ibn Bondi. She was here. She was right here! Then she disappeared. You must have seen her? And then me? She vanished from under my feet!?” He was stressed and angry now. “What’s going on here!”

Abner came around, “Bill Carroll? William Carroll….sure. I remember you. You used to be the dockmaster. I’m the dockmaster now. I’ve been in this position at least…seven or eight years. But sure, I remember you. Bill? You were dockmaster here…seventeen or eighteen years ago.”

Bill looked gob smacked, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “What are you talking about?”

“ Ibn Bondi That’s a name you don’t forget. Bill? That was your last ship, wasn’t it? The last investigation that you were the lead on. Yeah, don’t you remember? She was the one ship that you couldn’t figure out.” Abner said, trying to calm him.

“Are you trying to tell me that you did not have a ship here today in your dock with no crew, no cargo, no people of any kind? Are you telling me that you did not have to remote control a ship into the spacedock because there was nobody on it?”

“Bill? I…”

Bill interrupted angrily, “You mean to stand there and tell me that the Ibn Bondi was never here?”

“That’s right. Bill? The Ibn Bondi was lost some seventeen years ago. We never found her. We think she was lost near Circinus; but that is so far away that it’s impossible. Nobody ever found her. Nobody. All hands were lost. She is still on the list as missing and presumed destroyed. You were the lead investigator. From TYCOM, you had a perfect track record. You always found the causes. But you never found out what happened to that ship. She just disappeared. But like I said, that was seventeen or eighteen years ago now.” Abner said very concerned for Bill.

Security arrived with two more guards and a medic. And they led William Carroll out of the STC command center. It so happens that after they gave him a sedative, they had to go by the very same dock to get to Medical. Bill, still delirious and in a profound state of confusion and disorientation said to that empty dock, “Hey! Ibn Bondi Two-hundred and ninety crew! Captain Sarah Moyers. Executive Officer Dean Smith. What happened to you? Where’d you go? What went wrong? Where did you go down? Two hundred and ninety people! My god…what happened to you! Are you still lost? Why didn’t you ever tell anyone what happened to you?”

In grief and exhaustion, William Carroll fell to the deck and went into myocardial infarction. He went to his knees right there with the name of the ship that was lost in or near Circinus. William Carroll, was licked by a mystery that has never been solved. And the guilt and the pain of not solving it is his Achilles heel. A mystery that dropped into his life and took the form of an illusion. The mystery of that missing ship and the two hundred and ninety souls was a weight on his shoulders. He dragged that weight across the years until today when he tried once more to bring closure to the Ibn Bondi.

But, if you choose to think that this has more to do with a space borne ‘Flying Dutchman’, a ghost ship, lost in the fog of that distant galaxy Circinus, some thirteen million light years away and enshrouded with remoteness and enigma. If you choose think that the crew are on a mission that never ends, perhaps being captured, enslaved or having been killed, then William Carroll is in good company and the guilt and loss he felt are not, and will not be in vain.


[OFF:]

Captain Samuel Woolheater
“Saepius Exertus, Semper Fidelis, Frater Infinitas”
Division VI, MARDET 62nd Company "Spartans", 1st Platoon CO
=/\= USS ELYSIUM - NCC-89000 =/\=

 

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