Chapter 15: The Phantom on the Enterprise
For weeks, Robert had watched the Enterprise from the safety of The Riptide, latched to the hull like a parasite feeding off its host. But watching wasn’t enough anymore. He needed to make his presence known—subtly, of course, and in a way that would keep the crew guessing.
Tonight was the perfect opportunity. The Enterprise was running a skeleton crew on the night shift, with most of its personnel either asleep or stationed at minimal duty posts. The ship hummed with the low, comforting sounds of its systems, oblivious to the fact that it carried an intruder hiding just outside its hull.
Robert grinned as he set the transporter controls, locking onto a blind spot within the ship’s internal sensor network. “Let’s see how they like a ghost walking their halls,” he muttered.
With a flash of light, he was gone.
Sneaking Through the Enterprise
Robert materialized in a dimly lit maintenance corridor near the ship’s lower decks. The hiss of the transporter faded, leaving him in silence. He adjusted his stolen Starfleet engineering jumpsuit, a piece of camouflage he’d scavenged months earlier, and pulled a small device from his pocket. It was a jammer, designed to temporarily disable nearby sensors.
“Showtime,” he whispered, activating the device.
Moving with practiced ease, Robert slipped through the corridors. He avoided well-lit areas, keeping to the shadows and bypassing security cameras. The ship was a labyrinth, but he’d spent months studying its layout, memorizing the location of key systems and crew quarters.
His first target was the environmental controls. He knelt by a panel, prying it open with a tool he’d modified himself. Inside, the delicate array of conduits and circuits gleamed in the dim light.
“Let’s make things interesting,” he said, carefully reprogramming the system to increase the humidity across the ship. Not enough to cause alarm—just enough to make the crew uncomfortable and create an air of unease.
Satisfied, he moved on.
Stealing from the Quarters
Robert’s next stop was the crew quarters. He moved silently through the halls, his eyes scanning the names on the doors until he found one that piqued his interest. Lieutenant T’Val, a Vulcan science officer, had caught his eye during his surveillance of the ship.
The door slid open with a faint hiss as Robert used a bypass tool to override the lock. Inside, the room was immaculately tidy, the kind of Spartan efficiency one expected from a Vulcan.
Robert moved quickly, his eyes falling on a small vanity tucked into the corner. Among the precisely arranged items was a hairbrush, its bristles holding a few long, dark strands.
He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” he murmured, tucking the brush into his bag before slipping out of the room.
He repeated the process in several other quarters, each time finding hairbrushes or other items that intrigued him. His collection grew as he moved through the ship, his movements methodical and deliberate.
Sabotage and Escape
As he worked his way toward the upper decks, Robert made subtle adjustments to the ship’s systems. He introduced small glitches into the replicator network, causing meals to arrive slightly cold or with the wrong ingredients. In the turbolifts, he altered the programming so that they would pause briefly between decks, creating an air of frustration among the crew.
Near the end of his incursion, Robert entered the main engineering deck. The soft hum of the warp core filled the massive chamber, casting a pale blue glow across the room.
He approached a diagnostic terminal, typing in a command sequence that would scramble non-essential system diagnostics. It wouldn’t cause any major harm, but it would force the crew to spend hours tracking down phantom errors.
Satisfied, Robert made his way to a maintenance hatch, where he activated his transporter beacon.
“See you soon, Enterprise,” he said with a smirk as the beam enveloped him.
Back on The Riptide
Robert materialized aboard his ship, the familiar chaos of his cluttered quarters welcoming him. He dropped his bag onto the couch and pulled out the hairbrushes, laying them on the table one by one.
Each brush held strands of hair, tokens of his quiet infiltration. Robert held one up, examining it in the dim light.
“They’ll never know,” he murmured, a grin spreading across his face. “Not until it’s too late.”
He leaned back in his chair, surveying his handiwork. Around him, the stolen goods from the convoy and the Enterprise filled every corner of the room, but the brushes were a special prize—a personal connection to the ship that had become his obsession.
As he sat in the dim glow of his monitors, Robert’s mind raced with ideas for his next move. The Enterprise was his playground, and he wasn’t done playing yet.
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