Llama Trek is fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Any similarities between it and any life-form, living, dead, or imaginary, is purely coincidental and should not be taken seriously. No criaturas were harmed in the making of Llama Trek.
We join the crew of the Bolivian Enterprise as they are on their way to the Starbase LL-5-7. Their cargo hold is full of Quadra-Trita-Alfalfa for the starving planetary system orbiting a sun in the constellation C.R.I.A.
Chief Engineer Spot turns from his control console, and says, “Captain, at our current rate of speed, we will use up our remaining fuel before we reach Starbase. Unless we go to sub-light speed to conserve fuel, we won’t make it.”
Captain Curry, from the main console chair, turns to Spot, and says, “we need to get the Quadra-Trita-Alfalfa to the star system before more llamas die! We must get there as fast as possible. Spotty, do we have to slow down?”
Spot replies, “Aye, Captain. She can’t keep up this speed without fuel!”
The Captain pauses, considering this. “Any recommendations?” he askes the bridge crew.
“Captain,” interjects First Officer Socks, “this sector is rich in planetary sources of Di-Llithim Beans. We might be able to refuel from a mining planet.”
“Good idea, Mr. Socks!”
“It seems llogical, Captain.”
“Helm, take up to sub-light speed 5.5.”
“Aye, Captian” replies Ensign Checkers, applying the signals to the blinking control panel.
As the Enterprise slows, the doors to the bridge open, and in steps an irrate Dr. McKid.
“Captain! Why in blazes are we slowing down? We MUST get the Q.T.A. to C.R.I.A, P.D.Q, or those llamas will starve!”
“Calm down, Bones,” replies the Captain to the doctor. “We don’t have enough fuel to continue at light-speed. We are going to try to refuel from a mining planet. Don’t worry, we’ll get the Q.T.A to C.R.I.A.”
The doctor moves behind the Captain’s chair, and watches the view screen as the planets of a star system come into focus.
“Captain,” said communicaitons officer Aurora with puzzlement in her voice. “I’m picking up a sub-space transmission. It is very weak. It seems to be coming from the fourth planet in this system. I–I can’t make it out, but it sounds like it might be a distress signal.”
Mr. Socks added, “that is planet A.L.P.A.C.A., Captain. It is not a mining planet. There are no advanced life forms on that planet, but sensors are picking up a single intelligent life form on the sub-continient SA-2.”
“Mr. Socks, assemble a landing party. Bones, you too. Meet me in the transporter room.”
“But Captain, the Q.T.A.— ” started McKid.
“That’s an order, doctor. We have to help!”
The away team beans down to the planet surface.
“I don’t see anything here,” said Captain Curry. “Spread out, let’s have look around.”
“Captain, the tricoder is picking up an intelligent lifeform over here,” reports Socks.
From behind a low-growing spiney succulent, a strange creature approaches them curiously. It is covered in fine hair, draping in long locks. It’s silky coat has been matted and covered in burrs and mud. As it draws closer, the llamas are drawn to it’s face, baby-like and captivating, with long eyelashes, and pointed ears. Reminiscent of their own species, but different. The creature was softly humming something.
“What in heaven’s name is it trying to say, Socks?” asks the doctor.
“Interesting,” comments Socks, reading an LLED display on his tricorder. “According to the tricorder, it is saying, ‘You can call me AL…’ ”
Suddenly, the air is split with light and a thunderous explosion, like none had ever heard before. The landing party was thrown from their feet. As they recovered, they found the strange creatured named AL laying on its side. It seemed to have taken the brunt of whatever it was that had hit them.
“Bones! Is he going to be OK?” demanded Captain Curry, as Doctor McKid bent over the creature with his tricorder.
“I don’t know, Captain. I don’t know his anatomy. The tricorder is reporting decreased blood pressure and a slowing respiratory rate. It doesn’t look good.”
“You have to do something, McKid…”pleaded the Captain.
“I’m just a simple country doctor, Captain, not a Veterinarian!” cried the doctor.
Another explsion rocks the earth, and falling rubble from the surrounding escarpment make the llamas run for cover. They return to the creature quickly, to find he has slipped into unconsciousness.
The doctor passes the tricorder again over the limp body, and then presses his ear against AL’s chest. He raises his head slowly, looking at the Captain, and says, “He’s dead, Jim.”
The extra-audible silence is broken when the Captain’s communicator emits a high-frequency shrill. The Captain flips it open.
“What is it, Spotty?” asked the Captain.
“Captain! We’re being attacked!” shouted Mr. Spot. “A ship just came through a menengial worm hole in the space-time continuim; it is a ship from the 24th century! They are firing on us!”
“Bean us up, Spotty!”
OK, Llama-Trekkies, this stuff ain’t as easy to write as you think. If you want future installments of Llama Trek, drop me an email and let me know!Email CyberPeace, Llive Llong, and Prosper…