The Alcis Nebula: Dear Diary

“The Alcis Nebula: Dear Diary”
by Ardelle

Summary: Voyager finds a lifeless alien space station and fleet in a nebula. A
diary B’elanna found may hold the answers to what happened to the fleet.
Something unexpected happens…

I’ve noticed that many people have written (and are writing) series about
Voyager. I thought it was a great idea and have started my own.

The inside of the nebula looked like a graveyard.
“What happened here?” Janeway whispered. A space station, alien in design,
and several dozen starships littered the screen. All dead. Not a sign of life on
one of them.
“It looks as if they were trying to escape something in a hurry,” said Harry.
“Obviously,” said Tom, “They didn’t escape fast enough.”
“I don’t know about you,” Chakotay said, turning to Janeway. “But I’m curious
about what happened to them.”
“I agree. Harry, do you think we could get an away team on one of the ships, or
the station?”
“The ships are too unstable, but the station looks intact. An away team could
beam onto that.”

At first Torres couldn’t tell that anyone had ever lived on the space station.
Then, off to the corner she saw a twisted body, purple. B’elanna felt her stomach
turn. *Get a hold of yourself, B’elanna,* she thought. *It’s not like you haven’t
seen a corpse before.*
She passed several other bodies as she walked through the hall, searching for a
console. Torres entered what would have been family quarters on a Federation
station, but could have been a dozen other kinds of rooms for this race. She spied
a device that looked somewhat like a mini data padd. Her comm badge beeped.
“Kim to Torres. Found anything?”
“Yes,” she responded. “Something like a data padd, I think.”
“Well, you’re lucky,” said Harry. “Tom and I haven’t found anything. Some one
probably raided this place. We’re going to beam up.”
“Me too,” said B’elanna. “I want to check this out.”

For two hours B’elanna had slaved over the data padd, and still not gotten
anywhere.
“I would suggest pushing the green button, then the orange, then the red.”
B’elanna whirled around. Vorik.
“What do you want?”
“I only thought I might be of assistance.”
“Go away, Vorik,” B’elanna grumbled.
“As you wish.” He left.
*If I can’t figure it out, he can’t,* thought B’elanna sulkily. *I’ll just prove him
wrong.*
She punched in the code. It worked. B’elanna muttered a curse. *Damn the
Vulcan!*

The face of what looked to be a woman her age appeared. She had smooth
violet skin, flowing silver hair and light green eyes.
“As long as I’m on the Rillia, I must keep a diary. I guess I’ll start with the
basics. My name is Iyiza, I’m twenty-eight summers, and I have to stay on the
Rillia for about a year…”
B’elanna sat for hours that passed like minutes as she was enthralled with the
Iyiza’s innermost thoughts. She learned that Iyiza was like herself, griping about
being half Arninian and trying to hide it. Her betrothed, Iyixo, was like Tom
Paris, a handsome, dashing, but arrogant young man, whom she was either madly
in love with or driven crazy by. That last few entries were different than the rest,
though.
“Diary,[she wrote] our village elder has predicted that the disappearance of Iyixo
will mark the beginning of the Arninian’s siege. We only hope that this isn’t true.”
Her last entry was,
“The predictions are coming true. Iyixo is gone. We’ll begin evacuating
immediately.”

B’elanna fell into bed. Literally. She slept for an hour or two and was awakened
by the door chime. *That must be Tom or Harry,* she thought, getting dressed
quickly. *Nice of them to come and get me.*
It was Harry.
“Isn’t Tom with you?” he asked, puzzled. “He wasn’t in his quarters, and I
couldn’t contact him.”
For some odd reason B’elanna felt a fleeting sense of familiarity.
“Computer, locate Tom Paris,” she said.
“Tom Paris,” the computer remarked crisply, “is not aboard Voyager.”

To be continued in “The Alcis Nebula: Behind Closed Doors”

The characters in this story(except the ones I invented) belong to Viacom, but
the story is mine. I’d let you use the characters I invented… but they’re dead.

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