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USS Eagle, NCC 2185

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Crew Logs: Chief Terrance Daniels, Transporter Chief for the USS Eagle

Title: The Race for Space: Mr. Unstoffe's Luck
Setting: Transporter Room
Location: The USS Eagle

Terrence Daniels, a tall man in his fifties, originally from Tennessee, had the transporter duty. He was alert and ready. If all went well he'd have some survivors from the missing observation team to beam onboard.

Although Daniels was a confident man, there were two things that worried him. One was that storm that looked like it might reek havoc with ship's delicate transporter systems aggravating the inherent difficulties of receiving a beam originating so far underground.

The second was much more serious to him. LCDR Unstoffe was on this mission. The veteran transporter chief had noticed by now this lad was not a lucky fellow. So Chief Daniels waited and passed the time by running different scenarios through his head, trying to be ready just in case.

The yellow initiator light flashed on. Beep! Beep! This was it!!

Daniels monitored the transporter controller and incoming data carefully.

The Transporter Chief pulled the lever down...the familiar whine of the phase transition coils at work was heard and... Success!! Five were beamed onboard. The Chief looked up. One was standing and the other four were motionless.

"What?!!?" Daniels exclaimed, the Tennessee twang still evident in his voice.

The ASEC on the pad grabbed one of the unconscious scientists and yanked him off.

"Hurry! They've been shot," he yelled.

Gasps were heard throughout the room as all observing the scene thought how horrible and savage the captors must have been to shoot the defenseless scientists. But before the AMOs and attendants could rush there to get them off...

Another yellow flash and set of twin beeps came from the console. The next transport was going to materialize in exactly 3.5 seconds and exactly where the unconscious bodies lie!

Daniels quickly threw the pattern buffer switch and stored the five new patterns in the secondary buffer so the medical and transporter crews could get the remaining scientists off the pads.

"Get them off of there NOW," he barked. "There's a-more comin in!" The dazed medical team and two transporter assistants ran to get them.

They barely dragged them off the pads when the next party arrived.

After a third round, the crew had a routine going and was already for the fourth and final beam in.

The yellow light flashed. The familiar duo of "beeps" was heard.  The last party was about to be beamed up. Then nothing. Nothing at all.

The molecular imaging scanners momentarily lost the signal and the pattern buffer dropped its precious load.

"Oh *@&&@#!!" Daniels swore in the two languages he knew best, trying feverishly to get them back. "I'm ah gonna lose them," he yelled.

And lose them he did but not to the great vacuum of space, but to the very basement room that Anderson and Unstoffe were trying to escape...

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