• Published 16th Apr 2013
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STAR TREK: EQUESTRIA - Alicorne



In the Prism Universe of the 23rd Century the New Ponies take on the Final Frontier...

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Chapter Sixteen- The Phantom Snacker

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE PHANTOM SNACKER

I returned to the Bridge feeling better than I had in days. I resumed my station, politely ignoring the inquisitive looks of my friends. I hummed a little ditty about a lumberjack I’d heard on one of Sunny’s old entertainment vids as I set about checking the sensor logs to see if anything happened while I was otherwise occupied. I waited…

Finally… “Hsst! Oi! Starry!” Merry, always as subtle as a photonic torpedo, tried to get my attention in a stage whisper that most Ponies in Engineering might have missed. “’Ow’d it go then? Ya ‘ave t’ bust ‘im up much?”

I was feeling so good that I decided just to play along. After all, I’d give them the full story later on at dinner. I gave her a serene look and stage whispered back. “Oh, he kicked up a little fuss at first. But he won’t be giving anypony any trouble ever again. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.” I tipped her an exaggerated wink.

“Oi!” She chuckled. “A wink’s as good as a nod ta a bloind bat, eh? Eh? Wish Oy coulda bin there! … Oi! Look sharp!”

For Caper, who didn’t have any choice but to overhear, had spun his chair around in my direction and casually wandered over to my station.

“Commander.” He rumbled.

“Captain.” I smiled sweetly.

He turned his back to the Bridge Flight Recorder and pitched his voice to an even lower rumble. “Situation in Science Department all settled then, da?”

“Oh yes!” I said chirpily. “We won’t be having any trouble out of Bors Bogan ever again.” I leaned in conspiratorially. “Ever!” I waggled my eyebrows meaningfully.

A look of alarm flashed across his face. Wow! I really did have a reputation for violence! “What…?” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice even more. “What do you mean, Starry-pushka?” His eyes narrowed. “… Do I need to call Sickbay for Mr. Bogan? …Or Morgue?”

“Oh a Doctor won’t do him any good right now.” I said breezily. “… Except to verify his condition, I guess.” I made a show of cracking my knuckles.

Caper leaned heavily on my console as if he needed the support. His voice stayed very low, even if it was tinged with shock. “Starry! You… ?”

I had a quiet laugh, not able to keep it up any more!

“I never laid a finger on him, Caper! Don’t worry!”

Merry had given up any pretence of stealth.

“Oi! Made it look loik an accident, then? That’s the ticket, eh? Good thinkin’!”

Poor Caper was looking so alarmed that I just couldn’t help laughing harder! After a bit I wiped my eyes.

“Look! It’s really all right now! I’m not entirely sure why… I’m still sorting it out myself… but I can say for certain that the next time anypony meets Mr. Bogan they’re going to be in for a surprise! I’ll fill you in after the watch. It’s kinda an involved story involving hitherto unknown quirks of Tellarite psychology. Just trust me on this, ok?” I hugged myself gleefully, just basking in the moment.

Caper appealed silently to the Heavens for a moment, then. “Every confidence I have in your capabilities, Commander!” He patted my shoulder. Then he added quietly, just to me. “Will want full story later! And…” He poked the same shoulder with one finger. “Don’t do that to me again! Am too old for this hoopla!” He strode back to his chair. “Let’s get back to work, Ponies. Situation is in good hooves. Never had any doubt. … Zip lips, Communications Officer!”

“Jus’ clearin’ ma throat, Skipper! ‘ Ad a bit of a frog in it! No worries!”

“Turn head and clear throat for Good Doctor!” Caper threw himself back into his seat and busied himself with the padds Xantippe had left him.

Luna! I love this ship!

* * *

After my watch, and after a quick trip down to Engineering for some things I wanted to pick up, I swung round the Galley to see what I could do for Bob. Not surprisingly, Xantippe was there as well.

She gave me one of her curious, closed-eyes bows with clasped hooves. “My watch has ended, too, so I thought I would come to assist you. I thought that perhaps, together, we could solve the mystery of the Phantom Snacker.”

I rolled my eyes. “So now it has a title? Well, after today the little pesk is gonna be out of business!” I unslung one of the new-model tricorders from around my neck and patted it warmly, putting it on the table of Bob’s office along with the sheets of special materials I’d synthesized in Engineering.

Xantippe peered at them for a moment, then her face lit up with recognition. “Then this will be a snap. You intend to set a trap!”

“Right in one. Give that Filly a bonus ration!” The Zebra folded her hands across her tummy and took a modest bow as I continued. “I ran off a set of good, old-fashioned glue traps to put around in likely areas in Food Storage. That’s plan ‘A’. This little honey…” I patted the tricorder. “Will be on hoof in case the little critter avoids the traps. It’ll be set to record and analyze whatever comes lurking around. Should be easy-peasy.”

Xantippe looked thoughtful. “Let it be as you hope! But Bob has told me some interesting dope. The creature may have it in its mind to make itself very hard to find.”

“Oh?” I quirked an eyebrow at her. “What’s the word?”

She began ticking points off on her fingers many of which, I noticed, bore rings mounting various semiprecious stones on silver bands. “ Let us review what we already know to give ourselves a smarter way to go. It seems the creature is selective in what it eats. Lately it has confined itself to sweets. It has opened just one mealpack but found it not to its taste since it seems to have discarded it in haste. A ration of synthetics was also tried but after one bite it was set aside. Vegetables it can eat, though it feasts far more upon sweet treats. Desserts seem to be its favorite prey, cookies and cakes are plundered no matter how safely tucked away.”

“Wait a minute! The thing is getting into covered food? How was Bob covering it? In what, I mean.”

“At first he used plastic wrap, the thief to fox. Then he began to use a plastic box. But, poor he, cannot foil the creatures villainy. He noticed as he tried to guard his snacks, the creature seems to leave no tracks!”

I, pardon the pun, digested this for a moment. Sorting through Xantippe’s rhyme was becoming a distraction!

“Well….” I mused. “The predilection for sugar would seem to indicate an insect of some sort. But even a mosquito lands to eat! On the other hoof… any bug big enough to wrestle a storage box open would have been seen long ago.” I frowned. “And where would it be living?” I thumped the wall behind me with a hoof. “The walls here aren’t that thick and there’s precious little room in them for even ants much less some sort of body-building beetle with a taste for cupcakes.” I rubbed my chin in unconscious imitation of a certain Tellarite…

Xantippe came up with an idea. She was certainly getting into solving this!

“Wait a tick! Perhaps it is telekinetic!”

“A Magical bug, then. Or some sort of creature, anyway. It’s bad enough that Ponies insist on relying so much on Magic. Now Nature has to get into the act!”

“You needn’t sound so sick.” Xantippe said gently. “Nature by itself is full of Magic. It was alive and well and on the scene long before the first Pony.”

“Okay, okay! It’s just the Equestrin in me coming out.” I decided to hit her with a pop culture curve ball from Sunny’s archaic collection. “I yam what I yam an’ that’s all what I yam!”

But Xantippe never missed a beat. “So you are strong to the ‘finich’ ‘cause you eat your spinach?” She chortled to herself at my expression of defeat. Ever since Bogan I was on a roll, too…

“The trouble…” I sighed. “With you Terrestrial types is that you spend waaay too much time soaking up antiquarian trivia!”

“Now do not grumble because you took the fall. It was you that made the reference as I recall.”

“Yeah, well, I had to sit through it all, didn‘t I? Sunny has a passion for old cartoons and sketch comedy. And I’ve to see every… last… bit of it It’s so…” I searched for a word and settled on, “Preposterous! For instance, any Pony with forearms like that would be in a hospital and not in a wet-Navy.”

“It hurts me to hear you grouse at such treatment at the hooves of your spouse.” The giggling Zebra lied. “But, come, I’m positive you would admit that even you laughed just a little bit.” She gave me a confidential nudge and I made a mental note to keep her away from Sunny’s ‘Mounted Python’ collection.

“Okay.” I admitted. “It has a certain slapstick appeal… and his speech was pretty funny, especially in the older ones when he was always talking under his breath.” I grinned then shook myself, getting back to the task at hand. “Ahem! Where were we?”

Xantippe gave me another nudge. “It seems to me that you were showing you are not as pragmatic as you paint yourself to be.”

I felt the need to divert the subject from myself. To that end I mustered all my command of rhetoric and stuck my tongue out at the exotic, giggling Zebra.

“So…” I picked up the tricorder and folded the top back, exposing the readouts and activating the device. “You and Bob, eh? How long has that been going on?”

She hid her blush behind an upraised hoof and averted her eyes.

“Hah! Not so funny when it happens to you, isn’t it? Aw, come on…!” I gave her a playful push that rocked her gently. “I wasn’t asking for lurid details. I was only making conversation! …Waitaminnet! Are there lurid details already? Wow!”

For Xantippe was looking smugly coy. She gave me a serene smile.

“As a matter of fact Bob and I plan to indulge in certain pleasurable arts…” She paused and batted her eyes demurely.

I stopped, more than a little shocked and gaped at her, wide-eyed. I never figured Xantippe to be such a fast operator… or Bob of being the type to take advantage of a Filly’s infatuation!

“… he plans to take me bowling and I will teach him darts!” She giggled behind both her hooves as my ears drooped and I facehoofed!

“You sooo set me up for that, didn’t you?”

She gave me teasing punch on my arm. “It is as Sunny said it would be! She told me there are times when you are so easy!”

I chuckled sheepishly, then frowned. “Hay! What did she mean by ‘easy’?”

Xantippe held her hooves up in mock surrender. “Oh I would not dare to pick a fight with she who tamed the fearsome Tellarite!”

I was thunderstruck! “What? How did you find out about that already? It was only a few hours ago!”

“Surely one as experienced as you knows how it goes. On a ship this size by now everypony knows!” The tease-ball was firmly back in my court again. …Sometimes I wonder why I even try!

I should have realized that the small-town nature of a starship in deep space would mean that news would travel faster than subspace radio. It’s just that I didn’t realize that our ship had gotten to that point already. I seemed that our Merry Little Crew had knit together faster than I’d anticipated. The realization gave me a warm feeling. I was so caught up in it that I didn’t notice Bob rolling up.

“G’day, Ladies! Just come to see what th’ Brain Trust come up with. Tippy fill ya in all roight?” Bob, clad in a spotless t-shirt and immaculate apron, gave me a nod and Xantippe a secret, crooked smile that made her just glow! I sighed to myself. Is that what I look like when Sunny is around? Well… I couldn’t help it either!

“Hey, Bob! ' Tippy’s' been a veritable fount of information.” The smitten Zebra rolled an eye at me and snuck just a moment away from Bob long enough to stick an orange tongue out at me as the ball thumped back to her side of the field! “I had hoped to set some traps and be done with it.” I indicated the glue traps on the table. “But this new information is giving me second thoughts. There’s an off chance we may be dealing with some sort of magical lifeform here. You say that some of the food had been gnawed on?”

Bob, who had been looking attentive all along, began to frown at the mention of a magical pest. “Yeah, a mealpack, them synthetics, an apple an’ a carrot or two. Nothin’ left’uv them pieces of cake or the cookies but some crumbs.” He shrugged. “The sugar an’ frosting an’ such just ‘ad little scoop marks loik.” He made a digging motion with two fingers.

I raised my eyebrows. “Frosting?”

“Too roight! Oy ‘ad a hunch an’ checked on the frostin’ Oy ‘ad made up for tomorraws cake. Sure enough, a patch as big as me fist is gone outa it! ‘Ad to trash the lot! Oy gotta tell ya, Starry, there’s gonna be some mighty dull eatin’, this keeps up!”

I shook my head. “It’s almost as if we have a bunch of invisible foals running loose on this ship!”

Bob grunted an affirmative, then added. “Oice cream ain’t been touched, though. Nor whipped cream, neither. Don’t seem ta go for no frozen stuff.”

I mused. “So it can get into a locked store room but no into a freezer? …This just keeps getting weirder.”

“It could be true that it does not want to.” Xantippe offered.

We both looked at her and she explained. “The creature may not be so bold in the presence of the cold.”

“Hmmm… I wish you had kept some of that gnawed-on stuff. We could have made a cast of the bites.” I shrugged. “It might have given us a clue about what we’re dealing with. In the meantime, though, …how cool can you make it in here at night?”

His face lit up. “Oy gotcha! Oy reckon Oy can get ‘er set down inta the sixties or so. Reckon that’d be cold enough?”

I pursed my lips, thinking. “I can bypass the environmental controls without too much problem. For one night, anyway. I’d like to get us down to refrigerator temperatures if I can. How much of a problem would that be for your night staff?”

Bob made a dismissive gesture. “They know what’s up. They can wear coats, no worries there!”

I nodded firmly. “Then we’ll give it a shot. Shouldn’t take but a few minutes…” I looked away as there came a crash of falling pans from the galley. Bob sprinted to the doorway and we followed. A couple of metal bowls were still rocking and settling into place in front of the shelves. The only other Pony present came in from the far end where the serving counter was. Both groups stared at each other.

“Get that, willya?” Bob said to the startled Pony and we went back to his office.
“Can’t figger that out. We normally get a smooth roide down ‘ere…” Then he stopped short and pointed at his desk. “Wot th’ Bloody ‘Ell!”

Every glue trap on the desk was unsealed and stuck to each other face-to-face!

Xantippe was the first to find her voice. “I do not wish to invoke a portent… but I do not think that was an accident!”

“All right!” I said. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions, Ponies! There has to be a rational explanation for this!”

“Oy’d be glad ta ‘ear it, Starry!” Bob poked at the conglomerated pile of ex-traps.

Xantippe began to quietly whistle the first four notes to another one of Sunny’s favorite old shows, an old saw named ‘The Twilight Zone’.

“That isn’t helping, you know!” I snapped. Out came that tongue again!

The situation called for a re-group. I tinkered with the environmental controls and arranged for the temperature to take a dip in food prep that evening. It couldn’t hurt to try anyway. I did a set of cursory scans before I left the tricorder behind, more from curiosity than anything else. Not unexpectedly, we were the only living things in the area. I did get a transient reading though, just for an instant as the tricorder came on. A faint trace of Kirlian energy on the biologic sensors that seemed to disappear the instant the tricorder locked onto it. Suspicious, but inconclusive. It might have been a fluctuation in the systems of the tricorder itself. After all, these new models were coming along with us for field testing!

I tried to pass all this along to Sunny when I returned to our cabin… but I had to give her the blow-by-blow description of the Bogan Episode first! She was somewhat less than sympathetic.

“Aye! Sure and if Ponies didna start a-tricklin’ a wee bit after lunch. They all wanted t’ ken wha’ shape Mr. Bogan was in? ‘Why should he no be in th’ same shape he was before?’ I asked. ‘Because!’ Says they. ‘He finally went too far wi’ th’ Commander. Insulted her on th’ very Bridge n’ all! She up n’ told him t’ meet her in th’ Briefin’ Room to settle the issue!’

‘Did she now?’ I asked.

‘The very truth!’ They say. ‘He left n’ she followed. When she came back t’ Bridge she was purrin like kitten n’ told th’ Captain Bogan would be no problem t’ anypony again! An she was smilin’ as she said it!’”

I gave her a skeptical look. “Those were their exact words, eh?”

Sunny flapped a hoof and the same side wingtip at me in unison.

“Sure n’ I were paraphrasin’ f’ th’ sake o’ brevity! But, seriously, I’ve heard half a dozen different version o’ how ye put th’ Laddie in Intensive Care. I ken there was bad blood atween th’ two o’ ye but that’s in th’ past is it no? I remember ye have a bit o’ temper t’ ye but, t’ listen t’ ye shipmates, I’ve a-married Th’ Headless Horse, herself!”

I stopped in the middle of massaging my forehead. “I thought The Headless Horse was a he.”

“I never got close enough t’ take a peek. Now dinna cloud issue wi’ facts, Lass! Wha’ happened wi’ Mr. Bogan?”

The realization that I would be telling this story way to many times in the future suddenly settled in. I sighed, sat down in my chair, pulled Sunny into my lap and told her the Tale of the Truculent Tellarite to its turnabout conclusion. Then I threw in the Case of the Phantom Snacker for good measure. Her opinion of the situation in the Galley was more cynical than even mine!

“Seems t’ me that ye’re th’ victim o’ a practical joker. Th’ fallin’ bowl, classic misdirection t’ keep yer attention away from telekinetic jiggery-pokery wi’ yon glue traps!” She declared.

“But Bob isn’t a Unicorn, remember? Besides, he’d never mess with his Mess like that!”

Sunny looked deflated for just a moment, then rebounded. “Ah, then ‘tis obviously th’ work o’ another Unicorn who works there. Remote telekinesis is tricky, but it can be done. Dinna need much finesse to wad up some bits o’ paper.!” Her horn glowed in demonstration and the blanket of our bed gathered itself into a lumpy ball is a faint nimbus of opalescent light.

I coughed lightly into my fist. “I point out that the glue traps weren’t ‘wadded up’. They were peeled and stuck together like a sandwich! In the space of three or four seconds. Pretty good time for any slight-of-hoof artist, let alone a telekinetic one!”

She still seemed doubtful. “Well, still seems more likely than th’ idea o’ some great, magical cockroach!”

“Then why didn’t I find so much as a DNA trace on the scans?” I asked, frustrated. “All I came up with a blip on the Kirlian sensor that didn’t last long enough to get a fix on.” I scowled. I guess the universe was taking me down a peg after that unlooked-for success with Bors…

Sunny clucked sympathetically. “So instead o’ relaxin’ a wee bit afore dinner ye’d rather obsess about yon mystery?

I wiped the scowl off my face and managed to look contrite. “Not particularly. It’s been a stressful enough sort of day without adding to it. I could do with a bit of relaxation!”

Sunny hopped out of my lap and tugged my arm. “Then come along t’ me office fer some o’ Doctor Solar Cross’s Sovereign Cure fer What Ails Ye!” A tendril of pearly telekinesis wafted to our bed and the covers were pushed unceremoniously off onto the floor.

I got up and shook my head again. “Is that your answer to everything?“ Her only answer was to telekinetically remove her blouse. It dropped to the floor while another magical limb undid her bra. Sunny gave me an absolutely thrilling look from over her shoulder. Her wings spread just enough to hide the telekinetic removal of her undies. Still largely concealed by her alabaster wings she sat on the end of the bed and just looked so positively alluring! Suddenly, bellicose Tellarites and phantom food thieves seemed a lot less compelling than they were moments before! “Ok! Ok! I’m coming!“ I bent over and pulled my boots off.

“Not yet yer not…“ Opalescent radiance tugged my own blouse up and over my head before focusing on my slacks, shucking them down. “… But give me a wee bit o’ time n’ we’ll see what happens!“ Sunny smiled her best bedroom smile while her magic took care of the last of my clothing. Alicorns! … Bless ‘em!

Author's Note:

It seems the least I could do after The Great Italics Fiasco to post the next chapter straightaway! I only wish that my Word proggy was more compatible with this format. I was genuinely scared to insert the italics this time around!

Does anyone else remember the B&W Popeye cartoons... or was it a pointless exercise in trivia? ;)

The Hermes food setup is midway between Archers Enterprise and Kirks. In the Prism Universe they haven't had much luck (Yet!) with replicating food at the quantum level. The mealpacks depicted here are the equivalent of a military K-ration. Nutritious but not very exciting in an Epicurean sort of way!

I hope those last two paragraphs don't cost me the Teen rating. There's just a little more salaciousness in the next chapter but this is about as graphic as it will get. ...So... anyone want to speculate regarding the identity of The Phantom Snacker?

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