“Star Trek: Mandela” Book 1: The Arke Effect



Story by Jason K.S. Hauck

Based on “Star Trek” by Gene Roddenberry

Star Trek © Paramount-Viacom

“Star Trek: Mandela” is based upon “Star Trek” created by Gene Roddenberry and is in no way affiliated with CBS Corporation, Paramount Pictures Corporation, or Viacom. “Star Trek”, “Star Trek: The Next Generation”, “Star Trek: Deep Space 9”, “Star Trek: Voyager”, “Star Trek: Enterprise”, and all related marks are registered trademarks of Paramount Pictures and their respective owners; no copyright violation is intended or desired.

Authors Notes:


  • ARKE (or Arce) was the messenger of the Titan gods and the twin sister of the rainbow-goddess Iris. She may have been associated with the faded second rainbow sometimes seen in the shadow of the first. During the Titan-Wars the two goddesses served on opposite sides–where Iris became the messenger of the Olympian Gods, Arke assumed the role of messenger for the Titanes. At the end of the war, Zeus stripped her of her wings, and cast her into the Tartarean pit along with her masters.


  • According to Hesychius, the messenger of the Titan gods in the old Titanomachia epic attributed to Eumelus, was named Ithax or Ithas.


  • The death of the “Star Trek: The Next Generation” character Kyle Riker (as played by Actor Mitchell Ryan) which occurs in the “A Time To…” pro-literature Trek book series does not occur in this alternative timeline.


  • “Betty” is Elizabeth Laura Riker (Kyle Riker’s deceased wife & Will / Thomas’ biological mother.) In “Deny Thy Father” (a ‘Lost Era’ novel by Jeff Marriotte,) this person is given the name ‘Annie’.


  • Dr. Kathrine Pulaski’s return to Earth to become Director of Starfleet Medical, after her transfer off of Drema Station & the Mediterranean-Class starship Progress does not occur until after this story.


  • This story is intended as a non-professional ‘sequel’ to Episode 17 (Season 4) of “Star Trek: The Next Generation” titled, “Night Terrors”  and “Star Trek: The Next Generation” Episode 18 (Season 5) titled, “Cause And Effect”. This story is also intended as a non-professional follow-up to Diane Carey’s “Ship Of The Line”.


  • The activities in  (TNG Video Games: “Armada 1 & 2”) does not occur in this alternative timeline. (This pertains to Morgan Bateson’s promotion to the Sovereign-Class U.S.S. Atlas during the forty-ship armada versus the Borg.)


  • The promotion of Gabriel Bush (Formerly Morgan Bateson’s X.O. of the Soyuz-Class Bozeman,) to Captain of the Saber-Class U.S.S. Bozeman-A occurs in this timeline.


  • The U.S.S. Roderick (a.k.a. U.S.S. Bozeman-A,) is mentioned in “The Future Begins” (“Ship Of The Line” by Diane Carey,) as a Sovereign-Class ship despite the fact its noted as a Saber-Class (NCC 75032) in Decipher’s downloadable roleplaying game “Perdition’s Flames”.


  • I’m hoping to make this a compelling Star Trek story with somewhat-‘sexy’ sub-plots and uncomfortable personal life moments (seldom, if ever) seen in “canon” Trek Lit. I’m bringing “retired” characters back as I feel that The Dominion War makes it feasible/plausible, considering the understandable lack of qualified senior officers currently in-the-field to train the cadets graduating from Starfleet Academy. Based, of course, on the real-life tour-of-duty extensions/emergency reactivation of those men & women serving Canada & The U.S. via our conjoined Armed Forces in Afghanistan / Iraq. I’m basing Bateson’s discomfort with the Klingons based on the emotions displayed toward Sikh’s, African Americans, and other ethnic groups following September 11th. I’m hoping this will make my story seem more believable, despite being politically incorrect. I (in no way) intend this to be racist / a display of intolerance, but I simply mean to do this as a way to relate Bateson’s “overnight change” experience between the TMP and TNG eras to new and veteran readers alike. If there’s a way to do this with the utmost sensitivity & respect towards my readers, please let me know.


  • I’m tired of seeing every *Other* X.O., Engineer, Captain, et al. in Starfleet get their own spin-off / mini-series, so I’m hoping people will enjoy ~this~ one, headed-up by Morgan Bateson, post-“Ship Of The Line” by Diane Carey.


  • The events of Trek literature items “TNG: A Time To Love” & “TNG: A Time To Hate” and the TNG Comics: “Cry Havoc”, “The First Casualty”, & “The Dying Of The Light” do not occur in this alternative timeline.


 The Road To 2409

DS9 Relaunch Era Timeline

Created By Kestrel of Star Trek Online Forums

  • Following the death of Praetor Shinzon at the Battle of Bassen Rift, the Romulan government fell into disarray. Tal’aura, one of the few remaining members of the Romulan Senate and a former ally of Shinzon, declares herself the new Praetor, supported by Fleet Commander Tomalak as the new leader of the Imperial Defense Force.


  • However, Tal’aura’s leadership is opposed by Commander Donatra, who with the support of Commander Suran and former Admiral Braeg retains control of the majority of the Fifth and Third fleets. Any hope of a reconciliation between the two sides ends after the execution of Braeg, and Donatra vows never to accept Tal’aura’s rule.


  • Donatra’s rebellion is not Tal’aura’s only concern. The Remans, led by General Xiomek of the Reman Kepeszuk Battalion, demand control of either a continent on Romulus or a planet with sufficient natural resources to maintain self-sufficient settlements as reparations for hundreds of years of slavery and exploitation. In response, Tel’aura cuts shipments of food and needed supplies to Remus and commands Tomalak to blockade the planet.


  • In Federation space, the USS Enterprise-E undergoes a major repair and refit and resumes its mission of exploration. About half of her crew transfers to other posts during the months-long overhaul, including senior staff officers William T. Riker and Deanna Troi, who are posted on the USS Titan, and Chief Medical Officer Beverly Crusher, who briefly serves as head of Starfleet Medical before returning to the Enterprise.


  • Two trials are of note during this time. On stardate 56867.84, the Founder known as the Female Changeling is sentenced for crimes committed against sentient beings during the Dominion War and committed to the Federation maximum security facility at Ananke Alpha. And on stardate 58370.4, Ro Laren surrendered to Starfleet custody. A former member of Starfleet who defected to the Maquis in 2370, Ro plead guilty to charges of desertion and was ordered to report to a penal facility on Earth for rehabilitation.


  • Federation analysts continue to monitor the deepening economic crisis on Cardassia Prime. The Cardassians were devastated by Dominion bombardment in the final days of the Dominion War, suffering more than 800 million casualties. Large portions of Cardassia Prime remain in ruins and the Cardassian government does not appear to have the resources to recover, although it has rejected most Federation aid.


  • A notable exception to this stance is the Andak project, a Federation-funded program intended to restore Cardassia Prime’s agricultural base. Led by Keiko O’Brien, the Andak project initially faced stiff resistance from xenophobic groups such as the True Way and Gul Macet’s conservative bloc of the government. Only the influence of Cardassian governmental adviser Elim Garak, a supporter of the fledgling democracy movement, allowed the Andak Project to proceed, and work is now in progress to make the barren desert climate of Cardassia Prime support sufficient crops to feed its population. Experts at the Daystrom Institute predict that without more successful projects like the Andak initiative, the Cardassian Union could fall in as little as three years.



Personal Log Entry. Doctor Kathrine Pulaski, Chief Medical Officer – Drema Station

Earthdate: 0430 Hours. 12 August 2382.

Its the same dream I keep having – again & again. Klaxons, then silence & corridors exploding. I keep jumping, hiding or firing an abandoned phaser into the distance at threats imagined or real. But it’s becoming acutely clear to me that defeat is imminent.

I keep trying to get to crawl-ways to the bridge, a launch deck, or to barricade myself in someone’s crew quarters that hasn’t already catastrophically decompressed. It feels like it been hours since I started trying to get off the ship in an escape pod. I can never figure out what ‘it’ or ‘they’ want from The Federation or if its retribution against me. There’s no ultimatum about assimilation, no demands for medical supplies or to remove ourselves from a disputed sector.

Just pointless, unprovoked carnage. I see blurry shapes in the emergency lighting. But I’m not sure whether or not to call out for assistance or by doing so, walk into an assault by a boarding party. I pick up a blunt object & try throwing it in another direction, to draw the blurry shapes’ attention to one of the many corpses littering the deck as a chance to get in one of the last escape pods.

I’ve stuffed a sharpened metal bulkhead fragment under the waistband of my pants as a makeshift knife and take a fraction of a second to wonder if I should bury myself under some of the corpses & wait for rescue. Would their own tri-corder technology give me away? I get as far as Ten Forward in one such dream until the self-destruct countdown reaches one minute & notifies me that there will be no further announcements. I get as far as the escape pod control plate in another before I’m vaporized from behind.

I get as far as a transporter room in another. I attempt to transport to the Captain’s Yacht the computer says is still intact, but I don’t re-materialize. The last time, I reached the bridge but its open to space & the computer’s warning me about imminent atmosphere containment failure. I turn to get back in the lift & I’m sucked out through the hole in-lieu of our screen. I wake up in cold sweats & Kyle (Riker) does his best to calm me but I know I can’t deal with this any further, without some Vulcan or Betazoid psychic voodoo. I’m sending for the one person I know I can trust to get me through this. End log.”

Kathrine got-up, dressed, checked last night’s messages & headed for Drema Station’s nearest available replimat. She needed a distraction from the deafening quiet of her Officers’ quarters. Kyle wouldn’t be back for another three days. He was aboard the Titan for the reception of his grand-daughter. She’d since learned the child’s name: Natasha Miana Troi-Riker.  He’d since had to deal with the dissolution of his engagement to Brenda Sorenson and Katherine amicably agreed to be there for him as a friend, if nothing else.

Thomas was thankfully no longer on Lazon II. Kyle, some old Enterprise friends of Will’s, and a Cardassian gentleman named ‘Garak’ had been instrumental in petitioning for Thomas’ clemency hearing and custody-transfer to The Federation. The last she’d heard from Kyle was that Thomas was back on  a prospective command track. Kyle described the decision as a desperate, impulsive one that left many noses out of joint at both Starfleet Tactical and the Diplomatic Corps.

Will and Kyle’s relationship had progressed somewhat, according to the communiques both of her boys had left her while she was on-duty in sickbay last night. Thomas was being considered for the First Officer position aboard one of the Mandela’s sister-ships – the Exeter.

Momentarily pausing at a window before leaving her quarters, she uttered, “Betty, you’re a lucky lady to have had these men in your life. Don’t tell them I said anything, okay?”

Pulaski considered a morning swim to reinvigorate her, a decent breakfast, then an entire uninterrupted day of filing / confirming the pharmaceutical and equipment inventories. She massaged the rim of her mouth, realizing just how long it would take to balence the books, double-check the DNA banks against the convoy’s crew manifests, and finally authorize its’ departure. She had an established routine. She’d requested that someone in Ten Forward hand-deliver meals right to the Chief Medical Officer’s desk, or, she’d ask an Intern to harrass her into eatting something on Drema Station’s promenade.

Kathrine debated with herself about taking a Personal Leave of Absence, indefinately delaying her contribution to the Andak Project. She’d filed a request with Starfleet Command weeks ago, to no avail. The Legacy-Class U.S.S. Mandela, (picked to be the flagship of the convoy,) arrived the day before yesturday to queue for minor systems adjustments, juggle personnel coming or going from leave and to review security procedures with the rest of the relief group.

Captain Morgan Bateson just wouldn’t hear of it. The Task Force including the (Saber-Class) U.S.S. Bozeman-A & the (Mediterranean-Class) Progress, among others, were ready to disembark. The Dominion War had left Starfleet Command scrambling to reactivate retired veterans to supervise the rising crop of talent from The Academy and trying to replace lost ships. A sabatical to think things over, just wasn’t going to be in the cards for a while.

They’d be taking along The Federation’s most experienced scientists that would attempt to get Cardassia back to some realistic level of fertility to feed its surviving populace. The Mandela’s cargo bays were engorged with replicators and seedlings from every horticultural center in The Federation. The Mandela’s diplomatic and crew quarters were over-run with guests eager to contribute. Captain Bateson hoped this was just the beginning.

The last week, Drema Station hosted dozens of Bajoran Vedeks & Interdenominational Chaplains from a great number of organizations. All of them were there to eulogize the Dominion War casualties and counsel survivors.





 Old Calendar Date:

 0500 Hours, 12 August 2382


 Emergency Personnel Quarters

(Drema Station)

Commander Trynna Pratt pressed at her sinuses with her fingers, stopped and looked out the window at the stars. She suddenly realized just how dry her eyes were. A result of how long she’d been staring at her screen, revising sentences or whole paragraphs of the official incident report from quickly fading memory. She was so tired, her mind was beginning to play tricks on her.

“Computer. Hot Chocolate. Whipped cream. Marshmallows. Cinnamon. Hot.”

She logged out of her computer, weary from having to log yet another dozen names onto the casualty list. The Klingons had been taking advantage of the Romulans’ weak position to re-take old territories they felt belonged to them by right. They’d re-taken Khitomer and other planets on the mutual Klingon/Romulan border, despite their lightning strikes being publically rebuked by the Federation Council.

It had been at least a year since Trynna had been home on Deneb and yearned to feel her multiple husbands’ arms around her. She’d almost been ready for the Human contemporary vision of children with her second and third husbands when the Dominion War broke out.  The Dominion hadn’t allowed any offworlders to visit in the meantime, save for the necessary diplomatic envoys or the orchastrated “Q and A” with The Federation News Service to explain their genocidal mission against ‘Solids’.

She’d been present with the battle-group responsible for the liberation of Deneb.  A smile creased the Captain’s lips at the memory of that shore-leave as the scent of her hot chocolate hit her nostrils.

This latest assignment at Khitomer had been a bitch and then some.



Old Calendar Date:

0730 Hours

8 August 2382


 One hour from Celendi Nebula.  An hour and a half from The Azure Nebula.

Three hours out from Starbase 234.

                    Choppy distress signals had been coming over the romulan border from Nequencia, Tranomesar and others. Policy dictated an investigation. Starbases 84 and 234 dispatched aid. The distress signals quickly discontinued, no-one answered reciprocal hails of concern into Romulan territory and appropriate Klingon authorities were suspiciously unavailable for comment.

           The Saber-Class Bozeman-A, Defiant-Class Razorback, and Sovereign-Class Atlas caught up with a few that were defending the main hunting party. Despite the resources diverted to the Alpha Quadrant Alliance, the trio were more than evenly matched.  The Legacy-Class Vonnegut currently safe-guarding Romulus and Remus in the Titan’s absence would get there too late. The few remaining ships’ captains loyal to Martok’s leadership of the High Council and the Empire had been tragically spread so thin by the Dominion War, it effectively left them hog-tied, deaf, dumb and blind.

         Critical subspace amplifiers within range of central Romulan territory, or secret V’Shar and “True Way” outposts had been unconcerned with the Klingons, disabled or destroyed.  No-one would notice unusual radio silence for hours to weeks.

          The Defiant-Class ship was battered beyond self-sustaining warp and was about to be towed home by Captain Gabriel Bush and the Saber-Class Bozeman-A. Neither ship was in great shape, but the Bozeman had just fared slightly better in the last encounter with a K’vort’Cha-Class cruiser and its four (K’vort-Class) bird of prey escorts. They’d been leaving Khitomer when the trio caught up with the Klingons, whom were busy trying to pick-off the only freighter to get through the atmosphere successfully. Captain Rachel Harris of the Razorback decided to engage the K’vort-Class escorts, while Gabriel Bush and the Saber-Class Bozeman confronted the K’vort’Cha-Class cruiser directly.

           They all picked-up the ion trails of several ships. The science team aboard the Atlas was able to clarify the sensor information vis-a-vis some jettisoned garbage as sufficient proof of a war party of Negh’var-Class battlecruisers. Upon their arrival at Khitomer, the Klingons would already be parsecs away with prisoners and trophy-vessels in-tow. Pursuit was a moot point, as the Klingons had already crossed the Neutral Zone and were comfortably within their own territory near Quo’nos.

               The Sovereign-Class Atlas assisted the Bozeman to buy the lone remaining freighter time to conduct emergency repairs and get to warp. The K’vort’Cha knew it couldn’t take on a Sovereign-Class but wouldn’t resist the enticement of more vulnerable-looking ships equal to his own escort-craft. The Atlas positioned itself between the fire-fight and the freighter attempting to get out of the system.  The Atlas deployed its elite combat engineers and offered medical assistance.

                The K’vort’Cha pounded the Razorback and Bozeman with blow-for-blow exchanges. It gave as good as it got from the Bozeman in its attempts to avoid getting bullied from two sides. The Ferengii metaphasic shield program it had, failed.  The K’vort’Cha tried to worm its way out from between the two Federation ships by diving into the sun’s corona and exploded, taking the first of its Bird Of Prey escorts by surprise.

                  Scratch one Klingon cruiser. In a situation like this, its’ always good to remember the First Ferengii Rule Of Acquisition.

“Once you have their money, never give it back.”

             The first Bird Of Prey escort had two seconds too few, (between detecting the cruiser’s destruction and trying to erect its own metaphasic shields,) to try to avoid getting clobbered by the shockwave. Oops, scratch one bird of prey.

            The second and third attempted to reap their revenge. Both decloaked while firing at point-blank range, sandwiching the Razorback between them. The combination of their direct hits ripped the Razorback’s starboard nacelle clean off the hull, before they were both destroyed by one well-aimed quantum torpedo & scant pulse phaser hits off their shields from the Bozeman. The second of the four Bird Of Prey recieved severe battle-damage, resulting in it pinwheeling latterally into the third Bird Of Prey, as though dispatched by an expert snooker player.

           Hisssss…KABOOM!!!! WOOOMPH!!! Scratch two birds of prey.

               In the meantime, the last of the Klingon birds of prey had been peppering weapons’-fire along the Atlas, Bozeman, and Razorback, leaving every deck in the Atlas & Bozeman’s saucer sections exposed to space with three gaping stab wounds.  Several crew died on that mission including the Razorback’s Captain whose specialty was engineering. The Captain had been trying to help put out fires all over the ship and get key systems back up, so they could abandon ship. She’d been killed during the Klingon strafing run that tore off their nacelle, leaving Pratt as interim ‘Officer Of The Deck’.

            The last bird of prey wanted to martyr itself by attempting to ram the Atlas’ bridge at high impulse once its wing-tip mounted weapons had been blown off by retaliatory hits by the Bozeman and Atlas. The Bird Of Prey was seconds from core-breaching, so it was just a matter of moving the Atlas to maximum transporter range.  The Atlas retrieved survivors and prisoners for interrogation while observing the remainder of the debris embering in space. The Atlas provided emergency repairs for the Bozeman, also providing cover for the freighter and Razorback’s survivors.

            Three days later, the entire group was recovered by a team of local navies from Andor, Deneb, Tellar, Vulcan, and Earth.

             The Razorback was a write-off. The majority of it’s escape pods were collected and everyone headed back to their respective corners of the Alpha Quadrant for long term care.  The Bozeman-A flitted back to Drema Station under tractor by the Atlas with its payload of survivors to rendezvous with old friends.  The Atlas returned to Khitomer in the event some sympathizers of these rogue Klingon houses decided to come back to fulfill lifetime blood oaths.

              The Federation Council and Starfleet Command ordered their (local) navies to stand-down. Admiral Janeway ordered the Atlas’ battle-group  of local navy contributors to permit the Romulans to enter the Khitomer System unchallenged to respond to the attack and assess their own on-going security requirements.


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