Date with Nurse’s Assistant

I’m sitting at a table near the bar. The ship’s lounge is packed with all manner of life: two Klingon’s – always in their battle-dress uniforms- sit sulking at a table, a tall bottle between them; a table just beyond them is a gang of Starfleet cadets, probably sharing training camp ‘horror stories.’ At another table: a balding doctor, and two Majors of apparent distinction- their uniforms heavy with ribbons- talk over something serious; behind them a Farangee takes a drink order from a group of card-playing engineers, all still wearing their gold-colored uniforms.

Still waiting for my date, I take in the atmosphere, the gentle bubbling of indiscernable conversations. A cadet, orating to his friends, rises from his chair, arms unfurling in a grand, sweeping gesture, he knocks over a couple unfinished drinks at the table. Embarassed, he scurries to the bar for a towel as his victimized friends tease him. The adjacent tables give him a few humored, quizzical looks then resume their intimate exchanges. There is a burst of laughter from the far corner of the lounge and a dose of handclapping that incites cigar smoke to dance briefly around the tables. This ebb and flow of talk and laughter and salutations sounds like the gentle lapping waves of a holodeck ocean. It is a beautiful thing, this convergence of life, the energy of this place, the smiles and handshakes, the festive nature of companionship. A smile creeps on my face: I am lucky to be alive, on this ship, in the middle of this grand universe, to witness this moment which will never be recorded in any history book or have any meaning to anyone when our lives are long gone, a moment so transient it is already gone and now just a memory in my mind. Life, it reminds me in the simplest manner, is a beautiful gift.

My date arrives, this darling of a nurse’s assistant is wearing…. a skin tight leather…. officer’s uniform. I didn’t know Starfleet authorized these, but I’m not complaining. You look… ravishing, I say. I rise from my seat and offer a hand as she turns slowly, stiking poses like a fashion model. She’s got class.

Have you been waiting long, I’m sorry, she asks a statement.

No, just got here, I say pulling out her leatherback chair-stool thingy. She sits and crosses her legs just before I catch a glimpse of her underwear. Starfleet issue also? Captain’s log: I’m popping a woody, better sit down.

We enjoy ourselves, two people getting to know each other, encouraged by each others’ subtle electric lust. We share drinks and talk about the service. She was born on a Starfleet station in the fabled Omega sector. She says the pediatric lab was her first and strongest influence in her becoming a medical assistant.

You can remember being born? I ask, stiffling my incredulity.

Just bits and pieces: the hum of the tricorder hovering over me, the digital readouts of my little heartbeat, she says in earnest.

I don’t remember shit about being born, I say then laugh, my vulgarity encouraged by the Klingon whiskey. The first memory I have is being slapped upside the head by my father.

That’s terrible! What was it for?

I don’t remember! We laugh together.

Our meals arrive. We dine on an exotic and sour tasting Klingon ‘delicacy’ which I’m reminded usually means ‘insect.’ We talk and eat and drink and talk some more. The lounge and all it’s crew is a single, unified aura that slowly envelopes the two of us like a warm blanket. We soak each other in, getting personal. Our hands are entwinded on the table, fingers roll over one another. My speech is getting slurred by the eighth tumbler of drink. I’m daring, and so is she. We’re flirting openly. I say I would court her under a holodeck waterfall. She dares me to. We smile clumsily at each other as I lead us, hand in hand, giggling like children, from the bar and it’s festive embrace.

We exit stage right, into the deck’s main hallway. It’s stark, sober lighting and the faint hum of the life support systems are somehow funny and we burst out laughing as we run down the corridor, nearly colliding with a security officer at a blind corner. I blurt an apology and, apparently lost, I ask where the holodeck is?
This tall, uptight Romulon looks suspiciously at her, then at me. We’re still giggles, still hand in hand, and still very drunk. The holodeck is no place for coupling, he bluntly addresses us, sensing something obvious.

Do he get holodeck understand me, directions? I pretend a language barrier, even though he’s probably smarter than me.

You’re drunk, sir, he says, unamused.

I say something about just wanting to see the Grand Canyon once before I die and he’s not laughing. I promise him nothing is going to happen in the holodeck and even invite him to come with us. It’s going to be… awesome! I say and look to my date, winking. She’s laughing hysterically between hiccups, and grips my arm. It’ll be… fun, she leans on me, whispering invitingly to Mr. Buzzkill security dufus.

I don’t remember much of what happened next, just that I made it back to my cabin, alone. Tired and drunk, I slide into bed and slip into a deep, dreamless sleep. The door buzzer wakes me… It’s still early. I can feel the whiskey still surging through my veins. I try to open both eyes, but only one forces itself open and I’m looking clumsily at my door like it’s going to clue me in on what’s happening. I wait, listening in my drunkeness for a voice.

Who is it? I moan.

The buzzer sounds again. I prop myself upright. The room is spinning in the corners of my open eye, I feel disoriented. This isn’t going to end well. I might sharf myself later if I’m not careful. I pry the other strained eye open and stand up, then lean forward and try to step. I trip over… my pants? Suddenly, I’m on the floor, hands and knees. The thud alerts my visitor: there is another buzz followed by a light rapping on the door.

Just a second, I blurt out, still prostrate on the floor.

I look over myself. I’m not wearing any shoes and I’m in someone’s oversized red security uniform… Shit! What’s going on? This isn’t my uniform. I look around, confused. This… isn’t my cabin either… Shit! How did I get in here? I stand up, still unbalanced, and scramble through the pants pockets, finding the key card for the cabin. Shit! I snuck into someone else’s room with their card and… Now they want in. My heart sinks, but I will talk myself out of this, just like I always do.
Another rap at the door: it’s showtime. I approach the door, trepidaciously. I buzz the door, it opens. It’s my date, wearing my shirt and pants, both soaked. We laugh when we see each other and I usher her into the cabin that’s not mine and, I find out, not hers either. Neither of us can remember the whole lost episode, just fragments, not enough to explain the unexplainable. I ask how she knew I was here, but she doesn’t remember. My own cabin key card is in the pants she’s wearing. We leave the cabin before someone else shows up. I invite her to my room, but her shift at the lab is drawing near and she has to get ready.

At least you won’t need another shower, I say, ribbing her as we walk down the corridor, presumably to her cabin. I’m still not wearing any shoes, so I’m holding the oversized pants over my waist to keep from tripping. I’m growing uneasy about what I don’t know happened. I think I had fun, but did she? Is she just being nice, uneasy herself at what she may, in fact, remember happened? Sobering up now, is she harboring some brewing loathing for me? Some louth, some drunken louth who may have taken her drunken self under a holodeck waterfall?
As if she can read my mind, she craddles my arm and presses lovingly into me until we become a single stumbling mess. I had a great time, she says. My thoughts slip away, and I find myself in another beautiful moment. Just the two of us, shuffling quietly, the gentle hum of the ship around us. We arrive at her cabin, this is goodnight. She pulls me to her warm lips for what seems like forever and then she’s gone.

Still standing in the hallway, I don’t know which way to go. I just need to find my cabin, but where am I? What deck am I on? Left or right? Directions are meaningless. I can’t see straight. Turning left-like, I stare down the hallway. I just watch the hallway for a sign, anything. A minute passes uneventfully. Slowly an irate voice rises up from the steady hum of the ship. Someone’s coming from around the corner. Again the voice, agitated, is demanding to be released immediately. Two security guards come around the corner. They’ve arrested some kind of lanky Romulon transvestite in a skin tight leather …officer’s uniform. I turn my back to them as they pass, the Romulon practically squealing in my direction about knowing me. They pass down the corridor and out of sight, the Romulon’s wailings slowly dying away. I think I’ll go the other way.

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The Unexpected Teilhaber – Book One

Started 130326 (ISO date format)

Book One

Chapter One

Thomas entered into his warp physics 204 class, taking his usual seat, he powered on his terminal, and read over his notes from the week before. He hated Mondays but they have covered some pretty exciting things, such as the effects gravity have on warp fields, and what is done to compensate for it. One of his favorite subjects. He hears the door slide open and he looks up to see their instructor enter, Doctor Tyson using his remote activates the front screen for the class to view.

The instructor turned back to the class, looking over the cadets, “I see most of you are here, then I’ll start, and the late comers can catch up. I have your first group project for this quarter, I will be assigning teams of two. You will work as a team, and complete a thesis on the theory of the effects of singularities on warp fields. As a bonus paper, you may write up the effect of an event horizon of a singularity on gravitons. I want a full analysis, and I want a write up of how you would deal with them. Sent to your personal files is who are you teamed up with throughout the project. This exercise is to prepare you for the real world, so this is going to be fifty percent of your grade, and seventy present of that will be based on your team work. The project is due at the start of our next class Friday. No lecture today, I will stick around for questions, you can find me at my desk. Today is a lab day. Thank you.”

Thomas quickly opened up his personal files on his terminal. He found the project folder, and in it along with a copy of the assignment requirements was a file for his lab partner. He opened it and he saw the public profile for M’Sara. He started to frown, from what he remembered of her she was that short Caitian, smallest one he had ever seen at almost one point two meters. Something about her personality just grinded against him like sand paper. She was very unusual for a Caitian, known for being the best cooperative species known, and as honor bound as any Klingon. She seemed to be very uncooperative as any being he has ever met. He did not know much else about her though. They avoided each other as much as the room allowed during class. There was no other information for public view other than her contact information.

Startled from his thoughts a small furry hand slammed down on his desk, then he heard a female voice state, “You!”

He jumped and started, “What?!” It was M’Sara, her ears were partly lowered, she did not look happy.

With her hands on her hips, she said quickly, “I had hopped I was just mistaken, I often have a hard time telling humans apart by photo or names. Once I got close enough to get your scent, I knew it was you.”

He rolled his eyes, he did not think this was going to go well, and it’s going down hell before it even starts. “Do all Caitians hold grudges so long? So we had a disagreement, can’t we work past that?”

Her muzzle made a small snarl, and her ears went even flatter. “I have to ask for another lab partner. I can’t work with you.”

Shrugging his shoulders he sat back down, “Suit yourself. I would be happy with someone else as well.” He said to her back, as she had already walked off to the instructor’s desk. He wondered who he would be traded with. He looked around the room to see the other cadets chatting, some working their terminal.

Again he was started by her slamming her hand on his desk. “He said that was not possible. He said this is part of the exercise. Grrr. Fine let’s get this over with. I will not let you get in my way of my future.”

Frowning he rolled his eyes again, “Yeah, because you could not get in my way, of my future. You think you are alone here? You can just shape the world as you see fit?”

Her finger poked his mid-section, “I am alone here, I’m the smartest person in this class, and you are on the bottom, you feed the bottom feeders you are so low! You think you are so smart, you big hairless ape! Hah, don’t make me laugh.”

His fingers typed on his terminal as he started closing out his session ignoring her jibes as he got ready to go to the lab, he could not figure out what it was that set her off about him. He was going to maintain his cool if it killed him. This is his most important class. “I’m going to go to the lab, and we can start working on this project on one of the group terminals.”

He got up and walked to the lab, she trailed behind him, her tail was swaying back and forth so hard it was causing wind currents she seemed to be even more upset, fuming even. He chose an empty one, and powered it on, logging himself in, she went to the other side of the oval shaped terminal and logged in to, he could hear her poking the touch screen so hard, he wondered if she was going to break it. He loaded up the assignment detailed instructions, and took a deep breath.

He thought for a moment, then started gathering the needed data. “I’m going to setup a test singularity, you are going to setup the warp field test parameters.”

She growled and slapped the top of the terminal, “Who put your in charge? This is not how a team works. I doubt you could handle setting that up. You do the warp field.”

He looked around the lab and many other of the cadets were watching them. “Fine, whatever, let’s get started.”

As she started typing into the screen, and touching, and dragging her fingers around, he heard her muttering, “Like I would trust you in setting this up..” Her voice lowered and he could not hear what else she said.

With his head shaking he started to setup a warp test, after about thirty minutes he was almost done when he felt a shove, and he started in surprise.

She had pushed him out of the way, “What are you doing, you can’t even handle this simple task? How did you even get into Star Fleet?”

With his hands on his hips he explained, “I’m in the top ten of this class over all, I’ll have you know! I’m currently ranked sixth.” He looked at what she was doing, “What are you doing, that won’t work! You’re going to invalidate the test!”

She pointed at the screen, at the data for the deflector frequency, “What are you talking about, this has to be within twenty megahertz of the warp field frequency!”

Blinking at her in confusing he pointed at the shield frequency, “Are you mad?! That would cause it to collapse in seconds!”

Her lips exposed her sharp teeth, ears back against her head, her hair bristled on her tail, as it somehow whipped around even faster as it slapping the console as she quietly, “Are you saying I’m wrong? This is simple stuff, a child could do it. How dare you. I will not take this treatment from you! I hear by challenge you to an honor dual!”

Stepping back in shock, “What are you talking about?”

She turned to face him as she explained, “You will spar in physical none lethal combat with me as a witness determines the victor. The victor receives the honor, and the loser admits he was wrong as well as gives the victor a full public apology.”

Sighing he put his head in his hand thinking for a minute, “On one condition, I chose the venue.”

Grabbing his uniform shirt by his chest with her fist, “Such as?”

Ignoring her hand, he said, “We use taekwondo uniforms, sparing gear, on a sixteen square meter open matt.” If this would settle it, than he was willing to do it. He was sure she did not know he had been trained in it when he was a kid. He wanted some advantage, he was not fooled by her size, he knew they were strong, and inhumanly fast. He knew it was normal for them to train in there martial arts too. He had no intention of going easy on her, because she was female. He is a full supporter of equal rights for every being and sex.

She considered for a moment, “Your terms are acceptable.” She tighten her grip, “You will not go easy on me because I’m female. I have seen human videos, and there stupid display of shivery.”

Scuffing he answered quickly, “Of course not. I would treat you no different than anyone else.”

Letting go she backed up a step. “You better. It would be dishonorable not to. I’m leaving, we meet at the gym after breakfast to prepare, then spar. You will supply the outfits and gear.”

Sighing as his hands fell to his sides, “Fine. I’ll be there.”

Without another word, she stormed out of the lab, and out of the class room, then he lost sight of her. He shut down the terminal then left too, heading for the park in front of the academy.

 

Chapter Two

As he stared out at the bay lost in thought he heard his friend greet him, “Thomas, good to see you.” When he got turned around to face Matt he continued, “I was just on my way to lunch from my battle tactics class. Join me?”

Nodding he answered, “I would like that, I could use some company I can vent at.”

Matt was his half Vulcan friend with short cut straight black hair and just a little shorter than him by about a tenth of a meter. His face was wide at the cheeks, not as long as some, with a pronounced chin, and brown eyes. They met each other years ago when he had first joined the Starfleet academy.

They found an empty table and took opposite seats at the cafeteria, as Matt started eating he told him about what happened earlier that day, everything he could remember. Once or twice he paused to take a bite of his turkey sandwich. When he was done explaining it, his friend was done eating.

As he ate his sandwich, his friend was able to give him his thoughts on it, “I see, I have read their honor system is similar to Klingon’s in some ways. It would seem you have somehow insulted her. Though she could have said it was a cultural misunderstanding, so I think there is something more behind it. I remember you complaining about her before, so maybe she wants to settle things with you.”

Taking the last bite of his sandwich before replying in a serious tone, “I’m sure you could be right. I don’t even know where she is from or anything about her. That is why I agreed to it. I need to work with her, or I’ll fail. I will do what I can to get this done. I’m going to spend the rest of the day at the 602 club cooling my heels.”

Matt got up, and took his tray telling him before leaving, “I have a paper to write it is boring tactics stuff. Enjoy yourself, and live long and prosper.” He lifted his free hand, forming the sign with his hand.

He smiled and nodded at his half Vulcan friend. “Of course. I’ll find a girlfriend one of these days.” He said the same thing every time, it was like a ritual, a twist on the formal Vulcan greeting.

The next day, after he finished lunch, he picked up two gees, and two sets of sparing gear in his bag and headed for the gym to get it over with.

Thomas was fitting the gear in silence for her feet, he had to cut a new hole in the back of the leg piece, so her much longer digitigrade foot would fit in it. He trimmed the tow area as well, as it was way too long for the toes of her foot paw. He also cut holes for her ears in the headgear. He put them on, and bent her feet and toes back and forth to make sure she had plenty of freedom of movement. They had already got there gees and changed into them before getting the gear ready. The practice gear was white cloth covered padding on the length of the outer forearms, back of the hands, tops of the feet, front of the legs and front and sides of the torso as well as the upper and sides of the head, leaving the face bare. It was held on by Velcro and elastic bindings. Her friend M’Lar was sitting on a bench by the wall, with her arms crossed. He had never met her Caitian friend before today, she was of a more normal size, and going for a science carrier path in medical. She had yellow eyes and tan fur with her brown hair in a ponytail down to her neck. She had brought a medical tricorder and beside the first aid kit were a few bottles of water. They had been waiting for him when he arrived at the gym.

As M’Sara waited on the mat for him M’Lar padded over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder she explained, “The rules for Ma’ahrurl’La are as follows, one on one hand to hand combat, without claws. The use of practice gear is allowed but not required. The first to win three rounds is the victor. Once one acquires three points the round is won. The only way to gain a point is by contact at four points on the body. Upper legs and sides of the chest. Anyone who makes contact from waist to leg, the head, below upper legs or the use of claws if found to be a fault by the judge is an automatic victory for other person. If someone leaves the mat, the other gets a point, and the match is paused and restarted. There is a one minute break every two minutes. I will be the official judge, as well as keeping score and time.”

She took a breath, backed up to stand beside the mat, and told them loud and clear, “Stand in the middle, and bow to each other.” She waited for them to comply, then continued. “Bow to me.” Again she waited, “Face each other again and take three paces back.” A minute after they completed her last instructions and remained quiet, she shouted, “Start!”

Though she was much quicker, and light of foot she also had to move more to make an impact on him then he needed to move to do the same, and even though he was only human, his reflexes were high for a human, well above average. She was also built for speed, and a quickness but not stamina. His reach was much longer then hers, and most of the time he was blocking and dodging her more than attempting to hit her. He waited until she started to tire, and slow to go on the offensive. He was also out of practice because it had been a few years sense he trained.

M’Lar called out loudly, “Break! Off the mat opposite sides.”

Each of them stopped, and relaxed, turning away from the other, and padded off the mat. M’Lar left each one of them a water bottle at edge of the mat. She was just leaving M’Sara’s as she arrived to take it. She kept her mouth shut, as judge she was not allowed to interfere unless there was a fault or the match was over.

Thomas was getting tired too, she was hard to hit, either one of them had yet to make a point. She made for a small, and very quick target, even tired. He had to win and do it soon, it is not like he had not been trying, but he needed to stop trying and hit her. He poured some of the water over his head, and drank the rest. He was already covered in sweat, a little water would help.

He watched her after he dropped his water bottle, hers had some kind of attachment that allowed her to lick at it to drink it. She did not use any of the water on dousing herself, when she was done she put it back on the floor.

M’Lar walked back, and called out loudly, “Break over! Continue the fight!”

Each of them got up, and padded back onto the mat, stopped and took ready stances, watching each other for a few seconds. She stood about three meters from him, her ears twitched just before she dived to the floor onto her hands she pressed off, then using her feet she flipped in the air and landed on him straddling him just above the waist. He was so surprised at her move he just watched frozen except his left leg going back to take the force of her landing on him. Before he knew what was happening both her open palms slammed into the sides of his chest as she dropped off of him, to bounce away on all fours, turning to face him once more she slowly stood again on her feet.

He had been forced back a step too from the blow pain radiated from his chest, as he renewed his defensive stance he was still a bit in shock from that move.

M’Lar called out, “Two points for M’Sara!” She moved around outer area of the mat to make sure she had a good view as best she could.

As she moved slowly from side to side as she paced him, she looked tired again. That last move must have really cost her, he would make her pay with interest. He watched her eyes very carefully, and when she was close enough he made his move, he fainted a kick to her lower leg, she reacted to it as he pulled away at the last instant, keeping his upper leg up he brought his leg in fast to let his lower leg bounce off it and up to her now open chest, knocking her onto the floor. She rolled, and got right back up, taking it in stride. Her tail doing mad dashes back and forth, and puffed out.

M’Lar called out, “Point Thomas.” She sounded almost disappointed.

She dropped to all fours again before bouncing up onto her feet, she was not moving as fast as last time, and he could keep track of her movements. He was able to twist his chest just enough so her open palm just missed, and left her chest open, he took it, hitting her chest with his fist. It was not hard, but that did not matter. She pulled back, leaped about a two meters backwards watching him, holding her chest. It was the same place he had kicked her, but he could not help that.

M’Lar called out again, “Point Thomas. Two, two.” She hid any disappointment from her voice this time.

They were circling each other when M’Lar called, “Break!”

They turned and walked away from each other, to find new water bottles there. He poured about half of it over his head this time, he was exhausted and drank the rest down quickly between breaths.

This time she poured some of the water over her muzzle before putting the attachment on to drink some as M’Lar scanned her chest before returning to sit on her chair. He did not think he had kicked her that hard, and when it hit, it felt like he was kicking a slightly padded tree.

Getting up M’Lar walked back, and called out loudly, “Break over! Continue the fight!”

Both of them returned to the mat, slower than before. She made three consecutive open palm hits at his chest, the first two were blocked, and the third missed. He in turn did two side kicks in a row at her chest, both blocked. When he went to stand ready he waved a little. She made another hit to his chest and he went to block it, and as he did his arm connected with the side of her head. His timing was off, and she had moved too close.

M’Lar said, “No fault, continue.”

The made a few more swings, but they were both moving so slow and they ended up exhausting each other out, and after they each attempted to land one final blow on the other, they hugged each other for support instead, because it seemed neither one could stand without the help of the other.

M’Lar padded over closer to them and told them, “I judge it a draw. The Ma’ahrurl’La is now at an end.” Having taken the medical tricorder off her belt she did a quick scan over the two as she said that then declares, “I detect no injuries that need immediate attention. I do suggest you stop by medical on your way back to the dorms however.” She turned around and left, on her way out she commented, “I need to go now, come see me later M’Sara, I’m sure you will want to talk more of what this was all about.”

After the door closed behind her they slid to their knees, she was holding onto his midsection and both were breathing hard. He looked down at her, and she was looking up at him her ears laid back, the tip of her tail twitching and still puffed out some. He felt a kind of static shock from every part his body. It had not hurt so much as felt odd, but it also did not really feel like a static shock either, it was just the closest thing he could think of. A snarl was suddenly on her face, but as he watched it changed to a closed mouth smile. He smiled back in return, having enjoyed himself, so much so, he could not remember when he had before had so much fun. He felt an itch at the back of his head, only it was not on his head, but inside. Her smile changed to a frown, her ears going back, and eyes dilating at the same time as his head started to feel strange just before everything went dark.

He opened his eyes, waking with a start and looked at the ceiling and rolled over onto his back, resting to catch his breath, not sure how long he had been out, it must have just been an instant. His head started to spin then the next thing he knew, he felt a weight on his belly, he looked down to find she had laid down and was using it for a pillow. The last thing he remembered was they were on their knees holding each other for support. He got dizzy again and things were looking white.

He woke with a start again, something furry was patting the side of his face, he looked it was the back of her hand, and her head was turned facing him, still using him as a pillow. “Ready for a shower?” She purred.

“Yeah, good idea, I think we have rested long enough. I know I’m going to be hurting all over later if not more so tomorrow.”

She sat up slowly, “Yeah, you and me both. You got me good in the head, though I think you were trying to block a punch of mine and missed.”

He got up slowly as well, his hands on his knees bent over, as he waited for his head to stop spinning. “Yeah, you surprised me, I did not know anything could move so fast, got me good in return. You were moving faster than I could perceive at times. I of course never fought with a Caitian before either.”

She sat watching him, rubbing her head. “Yeah that is what I had guessed. I do feel a bit off though.”

He stood upright, and started for the shower room, “Yeah, me too. Not wrong, just out of sorts. Maybe you hit me harder than I thought. We should stop by medical on our way back as your friend suggested.”

She got up and followed him, “Agreed. First things first, we clean up now.”

He grabbed his bag next to the shower room entry door and pushed it open, walked down a short hall to a single door. He heard her enter in after him. Going through he saw it was just one large room with shower stalls, shrugging his shoulders he went off to the left side, dropped his bag and started to remove his gear. “They have a unisex shower room, are you alright with that?”

“Of course, why do you ask?” She said, sounding puzzled.

He looked to see what she was doing, and she had her gear off, and was pulling off her shirt. He quickly looked away, and shrugged again, doing the same. “Oh well I don’t really know much about your culture, in fact this would be the first time I’ve been alone with a Caitian.” They were different species, what does modesty matter, he thought, just think of it as bathing a pet cat, and he should be fine.

“Ah, I have read about the modesty of humans, do not worry about it. We have fought together, that in itself has bonded us.”

Without another look her way, he walked into a shower stall, closing the opaque glass door, he washed off all the sweat from there fierce battle.

After a few minutes from the shower stall next door he heard her ask, “Would you do me a favor?”

He blinked, not a clue what she may want, “Sure, what do you want?”

“I need you to help me, my arm has stiffened up, and I’m having trouble. It takes some work to clean fur, I could use a hand.”

He turned off his shower after rinsing off, he thought about how he felt about that, and realized he had allot more respect for her now, but he did not know what would be appropriate for her, so he had to ask, “You want me to enter your shower, naked and help you?”

She snickered, “Yes of course, if I am not asking too much of you. I cannot finish to my satisfaction alone it seems. I’m going to have them look at my arm too. It is not anything I would not ask any friend for help with.”

He shrugged again, and went over to her shower stall outside the door, “Alright, so we are friends now?”

She took a second before answering, “Yes, we have fought fairly, with honor. It ended in a draw so we both got our honor from each other. I feel like we are of like mind now, so we are now friends, no?”

“Fair enough.” He answered, then entered her shower, closing the door behind him. She was holding a brush in her hand, and watching him her body facing away from him her tail limp, her ears up on her head still facing him as she watched him.

She held out her brush for him to take, “Use this, I cannot bend my left arm enough to reach myself on half of my back side. I also did not brush my legs. It is full of soap, so you only need to brush me a few times, go with the flow of my fur.”

He took the brush and examined it, seeing that it had a hollow see through handle and holes in the brush for the soap. It smelled vaguely of cinnamon. He did his best to put in his mind that he was just cleaning a large cat, a cat that can talk, a very smart cat. He kept repeating that in his head as he got down on his knees and brushed all of her back side, and did her legs for her, as he kneeled on the ground. She only came up to his mid chest when standing so it was easier for him that way. He could hear her purring softly, he smiled to himself, yeah just a cat. He did what he thought was thorough cleaning.

She pat him on the shoulder, “That is good, better than I could have done normally in fact, put the brush in its holder there on the shelf.” She pointed at it, waited for him to stand and put it away then took his hand, he felt her small paw pads in his palm, but instead of feeling strange, it felt natural. “Thank you for your help. Out now.” She let go of his hand then turned back towards the water pouring out of the shower head. Her fur was pressed close to her body from the water, he could make out her smooth lines of her muscles under her fur, and noticed her breasts more now that they were not covered in thick fur.

He nodded, and left her shower going back into his where he rinsed off again. Her sleek petite body kept popping into his head before he shook it to dispel that image. They dried off and at times helped her when he saw her having issues because of her arm without her saying a word. He took his uniform out of his bag, and she did the same, he helped her into her shirt and they got dressed together. They put their gear into an empty gym locker, and entered a combination to lock it. They may use them again, though next time would be purely for fun he was sure. They need to have their gees cleaned soon too. They left with their bags in hand, his was lighter now, heading for the nearby medical room. They had thoughtfully placed one next to the gym. On the way there, as they walked side by side, he was thinking that it was not so strange to be with this person after all. It felt natural, even though just hours ago he thought of her as so alien, so different than he was that there was no way he could understand her. He thought it was amazing how sparing could create such a bond between them in such a short time.

 

Chapter Three

 

They arrived at the nearby medical building, walking in together, dropping their bags on the floor. They looked pretty nervous, and embarrassed. Her tail was doing a slow bounce-wave, and her ears were pointed to the sides. The medical duty officer greeted them. “Is there something I can do for you two?”

He gestured to M’Sara and answered, “Her left arm needs looking at, it has stiffened up, she can barely bend it at the elbow and her head feels odd to her, kind of fuzzy inside.”

Next she answered right after he got done, gesturing at him as she spoke, “His head needs looking at, he has been feeling dizzy and out of sorts after he briefly fainted. We had just been sparing together in the gym.”

The medical duty officer answered, “Do you often talk for each other?” They looked at each other, a little surprised and she noticed there reaction then smiled just a little as she suggested, “Never mind that, follow me into the examination room, both of you take a bed and I’ll examine each of you now. There are no other patients currently.”

M’Sara got her turn first, she closed the curtain around her bed that was just beside his, so he just laid down and waited. After he lay there thinking about the past hour, and how he was having trouble grasping it all. His dizziness was gone now, but he felt a kind of buzz in the back of his head.

After some few minutes, he heard the doctor approach, “I’m Dr. McDaniel, just lay there, and let me have a look at you. Your friend is just fine, she just had an aggravated cartilage in her elbow, and it will heal just fine now. I also helped out her bruises, I was unable to see anything wrong with her head. No indication of any head trauma.” She used her medical probe, moving it over his body. After that she placed it back into the tricorder, placing it on the shelf beside the bed. She rolled up his sleeve then took out a hypo, loading it then placing it against his shoulder, and with a hiss injecting it into him. “That was a supplement to help your bruises heal, I gave her the same. I’m going to do a more extensive scan on both of your heads though before I release you.”

He nodded, “I don’t feel dizzy anymore, but my head does not feel right still, it’s buzzing.”

She nodded “I see, if you feel any other changes, alert me right away.” She pulled out from the wall the scanner she needed, over his head it went.

He could not see anything but the inside of the scanner, very dark, and boring. He did hear a curtain he assumed was M’Sara’s being pulled open, he stopped paying attention and went back to thinking about the last hour. He replayed the fight in his head, and knew she never landed a solid blow on his head. On his other parts, yes, but not his head. He recalled hitting her in the head once, and that was unintentional. He was pretty sure he had hit the padding of the head gear, and was pulling back while he connected. That however did not explain his head feeling like it did.

The Dr. interrupted his thoughts, and slid the scanner back into the wall. “I did a complete scan on you both, and I found something interesting, though inconclusive.” She paused for effect and we were both looking at her intently. “I will do some more research on Caitian brains before I make any guesses, but I am going to want you both to visit me again, at the same time in a few days. I did not find anything that would warrant you staying so you can both return to your quarters. Make sure you let me know of anything changes, I don’t care what time it is. Understood?”

They both nodded and rose, almost in sync, they looked at each other, then back at the doctor, this time in sync. In unison we thanked her, “Thank you doctor McDaniel, we will be in touch.” They turned and looked at each other again, confused.

As they left, she stood there watching them leave, shaking her head slightly in the strangeness of the situation, than looked back at the scans on the screen. She copied it to her PADD, then walked off to her desk to get to work. This could lead to a new paper, she needed to do lots of research and peer reviews. She had lots of work ahead of her. Good thing too, she had been getting bored.

They left the building hand in hand, they were not even aware of it until they entered their dorm cafeteria, and one of Thomas’s friends stopped them, his Vulcan eye brow was raised as he asked, “Is there something I should know?”

They both tilted their heads at him, but Tomas replied, “What do you mean?” Then he blinked, oh he is asking about their assignment. “Oh we were unable to determine who won the argument, so we are going to revisit it I assume we have not talked about it yet.”

He tracked Matt’s eyes and looked between them, they were holding hands, when did that happen. Her hand felt good in his, but he quickly let go, and felt self-couscous, he stuttered, “Oh.. When did that happen…” Just as he let go a very slight buzz returned in his head.

She looked at me, her ears forward and up, meaning she did not know either. “I don’t know.” She replied as she gave the back of her head a slow rub.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his attention. “Matt, I don’t believe you met my physics lab partner, and new friend M’Sara. This is the Caitian I told you about.”

Matt nodded once, “Ah, this is her. So I assume by how you entered here holding hands you worked it out your personal issues after all. It is extremely unusual for a Caitian to show any affection in public. Though from what I hear, she is a very unusual Caitian.” He turned to face her, and tipped his head at her as he softly said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, and I hope you were able to set him straight. I do hope you knocked some sense into him. He is pretty stubborn even for a human, and pretty full of himself as well.”

She nodded, her tail waiving back and forth in long strokes as she answered, “I could not agree with you more about your assessment of him. To answer your question, yes I think I got some good hits in. We are just returning from medical. We still have some hours left of our day, so I am going to make him eat with me. Then I will find my friend M’Lar.”

Matt looked puzzled again, “Well very good, maybe you can make a decent human out of him after all. I think a Caitian would be more than able, if anyone is.” He turned back to Thomas and nodded before turning back to where he came from and returned to his seat in the cafeteria.

They started for the food replicators, he looked at her again as they walked side by side and noticed they were again holding hands, he shrugged the buzzing in his head stopped again and kept on walking, looking around him he did notice a few people had stopped to gawk at them, now he felt protective, and he glared back at them. How dare they judge us, he thought to himself.

They arrived, and she felt her arm left up as he pulled it up with his, then she said nervously, “We seem to be holding hands again. After we eat, I think it would be a good idea to call it a night, I also need to find M’Lar.”

He let go of her hand, turned to face her and looked her in the eyes, “Indeed. I’m feeling tired, and not just from sparing with you. Something strange is going on with me, and I need time to think. Things are changing too fast for me to handle.”

She nodded then turned back to the food replicator, “Feline supplement 74”. She took her tray after it materialized, turned and walked to a table.

It was his turn to order, and so he did, “Pizza, one tenth meter, traditional thin crust, turkey peperoni, four cheese, and shiitake mushrooms.” After a moment his materialized, and he took it, following her to a free table. He should make that into a favorite, he thought to himself.

He sat down beside her, her muzzle in the bowl on the table and they both ate quietly, he stared out the window on the opposite side from them lost in his own thoughts, just as she soon was. He was thinking of how he used to enjoy making pizza from scratch at home before he left for the academy. After he took his last bite of the second to last piece of pizza, he looked up at a clock, and saw it was about 4pm. He moved to grab his last piece but it was missing, he looked and she was eating it.

Between bites she said, “You know, this is actually good, I’ll have to order that next time. Though I should not eat it often, it may not agree with my digestion system. Maybe I can create one for Caitians.” She tore at it, from the side of her short muzzle, he watched her eat the last of it.

He smiled at her and told her, “You will have to try my home made pizza from raw ingredients someday, when I can get my hands on the raw ingredients and an oven, makes that taste like cardboard. I’ll make something without any vegetables in it for you. The tomato sauce is not much, but I don’t know how it will affect you.”

She nodded slowly, her tail waving back and forth slowly, her ears perked up, “I will hold you to that, there is not much human food I enjoy other than some meat dishes. I have never tried this pizza before, but it smelled good so I helped myself. We are friends now, so we share what we like. I’ve never had a human friend before though so let me know if I do something you do not agree with.”

He smiled to put her at ease, he must have made a face at her, he was surprised, but he was not upset in the least. “It is cool, all cool. I will get used to you soon enough. I like how you keep me on my toes, no need to worry about it. Is it true that Caitians don’t show affection in public?”

Licking her muzzle with her long, thin tongue she nodded before answering, “Yes, most of us want to keep that a very private matter. I think it is living among humans that has corrupted me.” She looked over and grinned at him.

He grunted and got up, and he took her tray with his to the recycler, then he turned to face her behind him as she had followed before saying, “I’ll see you first thing in the morning after breakfast in the lab. Rest well.”

She nodded, “Thank you, and you rest well too.” Then she turned and walked into the dorm room section.

He would be following her soon, but first he wanted to talk to Matt again. He looked to where he had went and he was sitting alone, drinking something. Not surprised he walked to where he was at and sat across from him.

Matt looked up at him both eyebrows raised this time. “Did you have a good meal with your new friend?”

He looked to where she had gone, and nodded the buzzing in his head was getting worse, “I learned she liked pizza, and so did she.”

One of his eyebrows lowered, “Is that so. Tell me, what exactly is going on between you two. Human and Caitian couples have gotten more common over the past hundred years. They are not that new to the federation, but it has not become so common that I should see it happen myself. Even though one served on the famous Enterprise starship that was filled with mostly humans as a bridge officer, I have yet to see it.”

He sighed and looked down at his clasped hands, “You would be right, I never seen that either. I don’t think we are one, but something is different. She told me after two spar, and if it is an honorable fight, then they are as friends. She seems as surprised as I am about our current situation. She went to go find her friend. I’m going to go rest in my room, but I wanted to talk with you for a moment. It has been a short, but tiring day. Thank you for letting me get that off my chest.”

His eyebrows went back to their normal position, “Just how hard did she hit you?”

He looked back up and smiled, “Oh it is not that, we were checked at medical, we were both feeling out of sorts. The Doctor wants us both to return, she said she found something interesting, but needs to do more research. Besides, we mostly just exhausted each other out, neither one of us got the upper hand, you can ask her friend M’Lar, she was there as a witness.”

He took another drink before asking, “What made you decide to go spar with her in the first place, is it a new kind of first date now for humans?”

Chuckling he shook his head, “Ha ha, you really need to work on your humor. I’m sure I’ll find out more tomorrow when we meet in the lab.”

He took a long drink before he said, “She has her work cut out for her. I do hope we get assigned on the same ship come the end of this year, it would be enjoyable to see how this works out. Humans can be fascinating, watching them fight themselves more so.” He sat his glass on the table before continuing, “One thing to keep in mind, Caitians give off a pheromone that another Caitian would find irresistible. It goes two ways as well, they than mate and often start a family. This can happen with other species as well.”

With a troubled look he said, “Says the half human. Well I can’t say you are so bad, you are my friend too, and you would not be so bad, or you would not be. Yeah, Vulcans found the Caitians, must have been fun. Well I’m going back to my room, have a good night.” He got up to leave the buzz in his head was making it difficult to hear or think.

Nodding once Matt said, “Rest well.”

 

Chapter Four

 

Going down the hall to his room, he spotted M’Sara waiting outside his door, she waved to him and at once he felt relieved she was there, and at the same time confused. That must be why the buzzing in his head had lessoned the closer he got to his dorm room.

She followed him inside his room and explained, “I’m glad you are here. That buzzing in my head was getting so bad, I cut my visit short. It is mostly gone now that you are here.” He turned his chair to face her and sat in it. It was a normal dorm room, about one hundred square feet, enough room for a bed, and desk with a chair with a little side table. A small food replicator was right next to the table in the wall for snacks and drinks.

She sat down on his legs and he instantly felt better because the buzz was gone. She started clasping her hands as she said, “I could not think, before I even made it to M’Lar’s room, I could not get my mind off of you either, I was feeling lonely, as I’ve never felt before. I then decided to find your room. So I followed your scent, and here I am. This is troubling me, though I felt relieved as soon as you got close. I am conflicted, I have no idea why I feel like this, but at the same time it does not feel wrong.” Her voice had no purr either, it had a more normal tone to it. Her tail was limp and hung beside his leg though the tip was twitching.

He wondered if their situation was upsetting her more than he had realized, more then it bothered him. They have very different backgrounds, he really has no clue what she must be thinking. He also had no idea where she was raised. He slowly reached over and placed his hand on hers, the fur on them felt so fine, and silky soft. It reminded him of a house cat’s fur. Her left hand opened and took his in it as she relaxed and lowered it into her lap. He thought of her injuries, and asked, “How are you feeling, your injuries, are they healing up well?”

She clasped his hand tighter for a second before replying, “I feel fine, thank you. The doctor did a great job, she used a cell growth stimulator on my elbow. Though I’m sure I’ll be hurting tomorrow as usually happens after a hard workout. Our lab work will be great fun, I’m sure.”

He smiled and gave a short, sharp laugh, “Oh I hear you, I’m sure I’ll be feeling the same. I am more concerned about how the past few hours will affect our lives though, however. I have this feeling we have become somehow connected, and I mean more then on a level of relationship. It is like our lives have become intertwined so that we are unable to separate for very long, but no one asked if that is what either of us wanted.” After a short pause he asked, “Would you like something to drink? I’m thirsty.”

Her facing ear tipped forward briefly as she replied, “Yes I would, a par’ctal chilled, small size, please.”

He relayed her order to the replicator, took hers out after the bowl with a handle materialized, giving it to her with his free hand than ordered his own, “Computer, one Iced mocha espresso, large quad shot.” Next he took his getting a sip right off the top. He just knew he was going to need his favorite drink to help him cope.

She took a drink of hers using her tongue, lapping at it, she licked of her lips before telling him, “You make a good observation, when you think back on how our personalities clashed like two opposing out of sync warp drives just hours ago, ready to tear themselves apart. I had to keep calming myself to keep from attacking you in the lab, it was like you somehow knew every button to push, and you were jamming them all down hard. Then a few hours later after our match I notice that either all my buttons are gone, or you lost them. When I said, we would now be friends, I only met as a matter of respect I would have for you and of sharing that respect. Not like what it is now, I feel a yearning to be near you, to touch you even. I could never even imagine such a thing happening. I..” Her voice trailed off and she stopped talking, taking a longer drink this time.

After he took a long drink himself, he quickly said. “Hey, I have an idea, maybe it would help us if we did something to keep our minds off of this for a while, let our short term recover some from the day. We could go to a holosuite and do something. The day is barely half over. What do you say?”

She looked around the room slowly as she thought about it, then nodded as she said, “That does sound like a good idea maybe it will help. Sure can’t hurt.”

They both drank down the last of their drinks, he put his glass into the recycle unit, followed by her now empty bowl. “Computer, what is the closest free holosuite?”

The computer chirped then answered, “Suite four is currently not being used.”

He smiled then said, “Computer, schedule us for suite four, for two hours, we will give you a program when we get there.”

The computer chirped again, “Suite four is now set for use of M’Sara and Thomas for the next two hours.”

He helped her stand with him, and led the way out of his dorm room, with a sharp right they headed for the holosuite in the next building over with her quietly in tow. Her tail was swaying slowly from side to side as they walked hand in hand through the exit door.

As they stepped outside he turned his head towards her, “Is there something that would help you relax you would like to do?”

She perked up, her ears forward and her tail rose a little higher in its waving, “Yes, I have been studying Terrain twentieth century history as an elective course, and I found something from the late twentieth century that is quite fun, and nothing like anything on Cait or any of our colony worlds. They were called video games, and they had them in places called video game arcades. I have a program that I made using copies of emulations of them, would you like to see it?”

He chuckled softly, “Imagine that, a Caitian is going to show me some early Terrain history. Oh the irony, I love it. I’m sure I would enjoy it, I know little about it myself.”

She then took the lead, and said, “I could not get M’Lar interested in it at all.” Then she sounded amused as she said, “I would be happy to have someone to share my interest with.”

They went through the door to the building that housed holosuites one through four, as well as other rooms. When they got to the door for suite four, she told it, “Computer load program M’Sara’s arcade and run.”

The computer chirped and opened the door churning motor noise as it said, “Program loaded, and running. Enter when ready.”

She led him inside as she guided him towards the back side and the door closed behind them, taking the arch with it. All around it was noises like nothing he heard before, not that loud, but so many at once. Beeps and chirps, static and booms. Once in a while a badly synthesized voice would say something he could not quite make out over the din of other sounds. She pulled him to one of the black colored machines, it stood upright, and had a screen facing towards him about chest height. On the side on the lower half of it was mostly blue with artwork of what must be a space ship of some kind. On its display he saw glowing lines, the lines made shapes. He thinks the shapes may be rocks. The display was also surrounded by artwork of rocks, then he noticed a word above the screen with some artwork of the same space ship. It read “Asteroids” in yellow text next to it.

She pushed a button on its lower front a few times, and it made a sound each time. “This is my favorite one of this type that uses glowing lines to represent objects. I think you may like it as well, maybe even more so than I do. It used what they called vector graphics at the time that use lines between two points to draw shapes. I find the math it used fascinating. It simulates a ship in space, in a middle of an asteroids field, and you must shot them, or you will be destroyed by them. You get three ships, when they are destroyed it is game over. I will play a game, you watch.” She moved to the center of its front, he moved to the side, having to let go of her hand as she reached for the buttons, she put her other hand with her fingers on a pair of buttons. She pushed the button on the left that was red and blinking, then put her hand back on the pair. The game made a deep rhythmic sound, with lots of pings and what must be explosion sounds. Her fingers pushed the buttons, using four of them primarily, two on her left, and two on her right is where her fingers rested. She had to look up to see the display, where he had to look down to see it, but he could see the display screen was tilted up just a little inside. He watched her blow up rocks made of glowing lines for a few minutes, finally her ship fell apart and the sound turned off. “I got a high score, awesome.” It asked her to enter her initials for a high score. She entered in SLP. She turned to him, “I also picked up some lingo from that era. Your turn, push the red blinking button on the right that says, player one start.” She moved off to the side so he had room.

He moved into the center of the machine, and looked the buttons over, hyperspace the button in the center said, it is offset so that must mean something. On the right is thrust and fire, and on the left is rotate left and right. He read the instructions under the display, sounds simple enough, he thought. He pushed the red flashing button, and the game started. He rotated the ship and pressed the fire at the right time, he noticed he only got four shots at one time. So he timed his shots better. Before he knew it, he was blowing up glowing lines that kind of looked like rocks. After his last ship got hit by that nasty little UFO ship the game says is worth a thousand points, he smiled and looked up at her. “That was pretty fun, mindless reflex coordination. So that is what they did for fun back in the dark ages. I see the appeal.”

She hopped on her feet a few times before giving him a quick hug, “Oh that makes me so happy, and I don’t care why.”

He chuckled as she hopped and thought it would be cool if he could run around barefoot too, but his feet need protection unlike hers. He gave her a hug back and heard her purr while he held her.

He turned around, looking at all the games, “Show me more.”

She took his hand again, and led him to another one that stood up, one thing he noticed is this one was white with a green monster on its side, the front was black and had a white ball on the center of its shelf in front of the display. “This one is my favorite of them all. You move a gun around the bottom area using that white ball there, and shot the centipede monster. As you hit its parts, it divides into more, if you hit it right, you get it to dive, and you shot the front over and over, keeping it from dividing. That is the best way to get to the next round. If you hit too many of those mushrooms, a diver will place more, and try to hit your gun at the same time. You also have to watch out for a bouncing spider that comes out from the left, or the right of the game area at random times. Watch me play”

As he watched the screen the first thing he noticed is it was on color, with colored dots as artwork that made the parts of the game display. She really knows her stuff, and at once that made him feel embarrassed, and proud. He had to tell her, so he said, “You really know your stuff. There must be hundreds of games in here how long have you been studying this?”

She started the game before answering, moving the ball with her palm paw pad. “Oh I took it last quarter, then I studied about video arcades on my own afterwards. It took me a few off days to setup this program. I found a specialized museum and was able to copy these from it. They were ecstatic that I was even interested in such a thing. I promised them I would visit there at some point in the future and that I would share it with others including other species other than Caitian. Now I can bring them someone new to join them. They have a branch here in San Francisco.”

He chuckled and watched her play, “Yeah, alright, that sounds like fun.”

She showed him more games, some racing games, most of them where the player shots things. A few they played at the same time. One you even sat on a replica of a motorcycle, and it moved with the one displayed. Some they sat side by side in, racing and shooting each other. On one of those each time he was hit by her shot from behind, he felt something hit the back of the seat and that made him laugh.

Before they knew it, the computer let them know there time was up in about ten minutes. So they decided to call it a night. She told the computer, “Computer, save and end program.” The suite returned to its unused state of black walls with lines on them, and they exited through the door.

As they walked back to their dorm building, they were holding hands again, and he felt good about it. She asked him as they entered the dorm building, “I want to stay at your room tonight we need to stop by my room to pick up some of my things.”

He blinked in surprise and stumbled before answering, “Alright, I don’t have an issue with that, besides we may not really have much of a choice in the mater.” He had not even thought that far ahead, his head was still spinning from all the simulation of playing all those ancient video games.

She led him to her room, her tail had lowered and it looked like she was sulking, “Indeed.” She went inside, and he waited by the door way as she grabbed a bag and put some of her things she needed with her, so she could get ready to start the next day. Along with some bottles from her freshener room went that same brush he had used earlier that day, then she grabbed a new uniform, and some undergarments along with a few PADDs. She did not seem to mind him watching, she did not even look to see if he was, she seemed to be in a hurry. Closing her bag, she returned to him and pulled him out and back towards his room.

When they got to his door, he needed to give the computer some instructions. “Computer, allow M’Sara full access to my room.”

The computer chirped and said, “Acknowledged.”

He smiled at her, “Now you can come and go as you please.”

After they entered his room, she dropped the bag on the floor and, he sat down in the chair and stretched out his feet under the desk pushing against it, “It has been one long day, and one that has been life changing for me.”

She padded over to the bed, taking off her shirt on the way there she dropped it on the floor. She looked at him with a grin, her tail raising up behind her and with her best imitation computer voice she said, “Your life, as you knew it, is over.”

They both laughed at that and when he turned the chair around and looked at her again she was sitting on the bed, topless. He looked away, sounding confused, “What are you doing?”

She replied quickly, “Getting ready for bed, of course.” She patted the bed beside her, “You will join me, I know we are both tired.”

He remembered what he told her earlier in the day, and sighed, he wondered if he would be able to get used to her, and how long that would take. Did he just assume she would sleep on the floor like a house cat, he cleared his throat and said, “Right, of course. I’ll just change into some boxers, and we can squeeze onto my bed, and hope we can sleep.” He turned around and pushed open his drawer, taking out a pair, he went into the refresher room and quickly changed into them before returning and wondering he quietly muttered to himself, “Well with your size we may be able to pull this off without too much of a hassle.”

Before he could turn back around, the door chimed. Startled he used a colorful metaphor. He quickly grabbed a robe out of the refresher room, walked to the door and said, “Computer, open door.”

M’Lar was standing in the door way, “Oh, did I catch you at a bad time?”

He chuckled before answering, “Oh, it could have been worse.”

“Do you know where M’Sara is? She is not in her room.” she asked as she walked inside.

He turned to look at her laying in his bed with the cover over part of her and her skirt on the floor by the bed. “Uh yeah, sure.” He saw M’Lar walk past him as he answered her tail was waving back and forth, “Come on in..” he muttered. How did she know where I was, did she follow his scent, she must have knew M’Sara was already here he thought to himself.

She stopped in front of the bed, “What is going on here? Did I miss something? Are you going to sleep with this human? I thought you hated him. You told me you would hate to be paired up with him because of that. Then you were, and you were so upset about it all day yesterday. Today when you stopped by you really did not make much sense, then you left in a rush. I got done with my studies, so I decided to hunt you down.” Her tail was going about a hundred beats per minute and her ears were flat.

As he looked at the back of her neck, and the blue stripe around it that signified her as a science major, he thought maybe he should give them some time alone. He looked at M’Sara, and they both nodded to each other, then he turned and walked out the door and it closed behind him. He stood there in the hall way for what he estimated was about fifteen minutes.

The door opened and M’Lar walked out, her tail dragging her hears down and to the sides. She stopped and stared at him as she told him, “She means the world to me and we have been friends since we were kittens. Do not invoke my wrath.” Then she turned and walked down the hall to his left. She was not much smaller than he was, taller than M’Sara by a good quarter meter.

He walked back inside and found M’Sara sitting on the bed, holding her head in her hands, staring at the floor. He turned his gaze away from her right away embarrassed. Not seeing her bag that he then tripped over and landed with an oomph on the bed beside her, face in the pillow. He slid off to the floor and sat there looking up at her. She was smaller than M’Lar but he knew how strong she was. He admired her strength, and even more so because of her size.

She finally broke the awkward silence, “I am sorry about that, she worries about me. I had not spent time with her as I wanted tonight. We were to celebrate my win, I told her before the match. Things often do not go as planned. I explained to her about how I felt, and what you have told me about yourself. I also explained that everything between us has turned around, and completely different. I even told her about how we feel when separated. I hope the doctor can tell us something of use when we see her again.”

He nodded and got up off the floor and sat beside her, slowly petting her back as she sat there hunched over, noticing how soft her black fur was there too. “You and me both.”

She looked up at him and pulled his head to her, nuzzling his cheek with a rub of the side of her muzzle, just like a house cat would, then whispered in his ear, “That is our way of expressing heart felt feelings. Thank you.” Then she let go and turned to lay back down and pulled the covers up and got under them, scooting against the wall. “Get in, we go to sleep now.”

He got up, took off his robe, then got under the covers too, reminding himself, it is just like sleeping with your pet, just like that, except she is smart, and talks. He laid on his back, lots of room. He looked at her, and she was on her side against the wall watching him. “Computer, terminate lighting.” The lighting went dark. As he relaxed he felt her roll against him, and place her arm over his chest, her chest warm and soft against his arm. He did not mind, her arm was light enough that he soon forgot about it. Before he went to sleep the last thing he felt was her leg stretching over his. He realized one thing too before losing to sleep, that he felt complete for the first time in his life.

 

Chapter Five

 

He woke to find himself sleeping next to a large cat, the light entered through the shuttered window with just enough light to allow him to see her laying right in front of his face. It was her head sharing his pillow. She had laid partly on him while he slept, and her leg had somehow got between his and her foot was hooked under it. She had also pushed off her cover, so her fur was lit like a dark wheat field in the morning sun. Now he knew why he was so warm when he woke up, it was going to be a nice sunny spring day by the looks of it. He was trapped there, so he took the opportunity to study her fur up close and he noticed it was not really black, but such a dark brown color that it looked black, and it was also not solid, it had barely visible rosettes that reminded him of a Terrain lynx or bobcat in her fur, they ran along her back, shoulders and arms, and would go with the tufts on the tips of her ears. That would be hard to see when normally all you see are her lower legs to feet, and neck to head. Her head had short cropped cut hair that was normally brushed back. It was not like they had spent any time together before yesterday either. In fact they had avoided each other sense they were in the same class together that started last quarter. She looked exquisite with the light in her fur, her chest raising slowly up, then down, laying there so peaceful. He could almost fool himself into thinking sense she was so small at a little over one and a quarter meters and her thin build, that she was anything but a powerful predator with enough brains to make her very dangerous, if she wanted to be. Hidden in her muzzle were sharp canines and she had retractable claws in both her feet and hands, just like any large Terrain feline. She was also the smallest Caitian he had ever seen, even for a female. Not that he had seen that many, but the ones stationed as Starfleet security that he had seen were much larger. The males were the same size as normal male humans, and most the females the same as female humans. The male Caitian lieutenant Ferra the duty officer for requisitions in the academy was the same size as he was. As he was thinking about that to himself, his hand had started to gently stroke her cheek, and she stirred, bringing his attention back.

Her eyes opened slowly and she smiled at him showing a few of her front small pointed teeth as she reached her hand over and stroked his cheek before saying, “I hoped you got a good rest. Is this a human morning ritual?”

He blinked and pulled his hand way, but did not move, he was still trapped. “Uh sorry..” He said, his voice failing him.

She took his hand in hers and put it back on her, just below and behind her ear, “Here is a better place, I find it most enjoyable.”

He smiled and gently rubbed her for a minute before taking his hand back slowly this time, “You have me at a disadvantage and we should get up and get ready for the day. We still need have lots of work to do.”

She nodded, and put her hand against his chest, unhooking her foot from his leg and pulling it out as she pushed against me, bumping his crouch in the process with her knee, “Opps, did not mean to hit your tenders. I miss judged there location.”

He twisted away as soon as he was free, and fell out of the bed taking the covers with him, he did not realize he was right on the edge of the bed. After he recovered he asked, “No worries, it did not hurt. Who gets to shower first?”

She made a strange noise, a kind of woofing cough for a few seconds before saying, “Are you always so graceful in the morning?” Then she answered after making that same noise again, “We shower together of course, I’m not going to pass up a chance for you to brush my back again. If I must suffer your presence, you will at least brush my fur for me.”

He stared at her as she gave a great yawn as she rolled onto her back and stretched out, her hind paws spreading out pointing at the air. When she was done she rolled back onto her side and laid there facing him propped up on her arm her uncovered top easily visible, and he was still in his boxers at least with the covers over him in a pile. As he removed the covers he asked, “What was that noise, I never heard it before.”

One of her ears rotated to the side as she answered, “That was how I laugh, and you never heard it before? I guess that makes sense, we often don’t have much to laugh about in public. Not all of us leave the world we grew up on because we want to.”

His gaze looked her over again while she just laid there watching him, “You really don’t have any modesty, do you?”

She grinned and sat up on the bed, her legs hanging off the edge so her feet rested on his chest, “That is a foreign concept to us. We are covered in fur, we never needed much protection from the elements, so I guess as a society we never developed a need to hide ourselves from others. I actually don’t enjoy wearing clothing, and it is either warm or hot here most of the time in this place known as San Francisco. I wear a uniform because I must. If I am alone with you, I will take it off as soon as I can. There is a short period of about a hundred days that it is almost nice here when the nights are long. The other reason is that your reaction to it amuses me.”

Ignoring her barb he looked at her feet, so much like a felines, if he did not know they were hers, he would mistake them for a big cats. He could feel her warm paw pads touching the side of his bare chest. The fur on her foot was short, but long enough to make it look like her toes were rounded bumps on her foot. He followed it up to her ankle with his eyes. It looked almost like a backwards knee, but he knew anatomy better than that. Besides, he was what some would call a cat person. Growing up he always had cats at home. Was that why he did not feel so strange around her, after our personalities stopped clashing like two head to head trains, he wondered. Was he anthropomorphizing her, he could not help to think.

She interrupted his thoughts by pushing on him with her foot, “Are you done studying my feet? Let’s get into the shower, I want to get this day over. You can examine them all you want later, when we get back tonight. After lunch, we should request a double room too. A single room will drive us both insane if we have to be here more than a few days.”

He nodded and she lifted up her feet, and he got up entering the refresher room, “Indeed, it is too cramped for two.” He took off his shorts and opened the shower looking at it he remembered what they did in gym’s showers just yesterday.

She pushed passed him carrying her brush inside, then held out the brush for him to take telling him firmly, “You brush me first, than you can clean yourself.”

He nodded and took the brush wordlessly, closing the shower behind him. She had him brush most of her this time, he felt like he was doing this for her, he sympathized with her, thinking how it was not either of their choices to be here. Even when she was getting her stuff out of the bag near the door before she entered the shower, he felt a slight itch on the back of his head, on the inside not on the surface reminding him of their issue. It was the strangest feeling he ever had, that.

He had got her soup all over his front, not having enough room in the shower to not have her push against him as she turned around. She told him, “I hope a double room has a larger shower. That should be good, let me rinse off now, then you clean up.”

He stood up and placed her brush in its box thinking again how her soap smelled a little of cinnamon. She slid out beside him through the door when she was done, grabbed a towel and started to dry off when he closed the door and used his soup and scrubber to clean himself.

When he got out of the refresher, toweling himself off, she was sitting in the chair dressed in her uniform, that was allot like his, on the couch. He hurried and got dressed himself as she watched, PADDs sitting in her lap with her hands holding them.

They did not even say another word until they got to the lab. They walked quality through the halls hand in hand, and ignored the few stares they got from other cadets. Mostly it was just human students that stared, he felt uncomfortable but he just ignored it just the same. They used the labs multi user terminal and together they worked out something like they had before, but it was like they mixed it together each other’s ideas with a few tweaks, and it came out even better. They both ignored the other students in the lab, for one they were very into their work, and two they did not care what they thought. They should be worried about their own work, and not us. Too many of them it was the opposite of what they witnessed the day before. They were all in the same class, and all of them had noticed the change, it being so drastic.

One of the male human students walked over to them and asked, “What happened, some of us had bets on who would win, and that you would both fail. None of us bet on you two co-operating with each other. I had allot riding on you Thomas…” We both ignored him, and acted like he did not exist, and after a minute of watching them work on the project he went back to his lab partner shaking his head in disbelieve, mumbling “If I had not seen it with my own eyes, they are actually completing each other’s formulas…”, another human male who waited for him to return blinked and stared at them after he heard him say that. Their instructor was watching them intently, taking more notes he was sure.

It was like a work of art, he thought after they ran a few tests on the simulator that they watched complete together. He noticed the time and suggested to her, “Well, we can finish this after lunch, and be way ahead of schedule! We got allot more work done way faster than I had expected.”

She nodded and hit the button that would save it to their personal file space. “Indeed, I am pleasantly surprised at both of our performance today. Don’t forget about the double room request, we will have a short lunch, then go to the office building.”

He watched to make sure all their work was saved before nodding and leaving the lab with her hand in his. They had a quick lunch, he had a turkey sandwich, and she had some kind of Caitian meat soup. On the way out of the cafeteria he looked around, and it was not his imagination, there were others watching them leave. He shrugged his shoulders, and thought, was it so odd for them to be holding hands, and did not give it another thought even though he did not like all the attention they was getting.

They walked into the office building together and went to the desk for resident requisitions. There was male human at the desk he did not recognize.

The ensign noticed them come up to the desk and frowned when he asked with a very routine, “Can I help you?”

He nodded and asked, “Ensign, we would like to request a double dorm room.”

The ensign looked at them, again down at her then up him then down between them, where they were still holding hands, “The two of you, want to share a room?”

This time she replied, “That is affirmative ensign, I’m Cadet M’Sara, and this is Cadet Thomas. We need to live together now, and a single room is too small for the both of us.”

With a deeper frown the ensign asked again, like something was stuck in his head, “A Caitian and a Human want to live together, in the same room, in the dorm, the two of you, a male and a female?”

He could not help but sigh, “Please ensign, there is no regulation against it. There are mixed sex people sharing rooms, some of mixed species. I don’t understand what the issue is.”

After some typing on his terminal the ensign who looked to be in his thirties looked up at them again and said, “That may be, however we place them randomly they don’t request it. I’ve never had a couple of mixed species request it. You should stick to your own kind son. That is just not natural mixing it up like that. I’m going to have to deny your request. I suggest you see a therapist and get this sorted out. Find yourself a human girl, or at least a species more humanoid. Caitians are one step away from being an animal, I don’t understand why they are even in the Federation. So they make a few decent star ships, and fighter craft, I could live without the cats running around.”

He could feel the hackles rise on her neck even without looking, and out of the peripheral vision he did see her silently snarling, she must be barely holding that in, don’t do it he thought, it would just show him right, to himself. No matter how much he deserves it. Her fur was puffed out and her tail was rigid. He tightened his grip on her hand and felt her relax beside him after a minute, as he just stared at the guy behind the counter in shock. He never met a spiciest before, a new kind of bigot. I guess some people need something to hate for no reason. He wondered if that is why he is still an ensign at his age.

With a sharp laugh the ensign said, “Well you may have her under control now, but some day she will act how she looks, like a big cat!”

She about jumped out of her skin, and he quickly turned around to leave pulling her with him, “We don’t have to take this, we are out of here.” Out of the building he went, quickly too, dragging her behind him, before she too went along with him.

On the way out the ensign got his last words in, “It is not natural boy!”

Soon as they left the building, she started snarling, “Let me bite his head off, just one bite, I could rip his neck open in under a second. Please, just one bite…”

He interrupted her, “As fun as that would be to watch, no. I also know you really don’t mean it, sadly. This is one of those things that we may have to deal with again in the future. There will be those with power over us, that don’t or won’t even want to understand. I have a hunch he is in the does not want to category.”

She relaxed some and his grip on her also relaxed until they were gently holding hands again before she said, “I don’t understand, how can someone not want to understand something?”

He sighed before answering, “There are a few people that can’t deal with reality, so they replace it with one that is in there head, and live like that. They become so comfortable with that, they won’t change. If anything threatens that, they become threatened. I am going to guess, that is why he is still an ensign at his age. That he is unable to do anything more than a desk jockey. One side effect of finding a place for everyone who joins Starfleet. I am unable to guess why he joined Starfleet though.”

They walked together in silence as he guided them to the gardens. He stopped them where they had a good view of the bay. They stood there gazing out at the water for a few minutes before he interrupted, “Beautiful is it not?”

She nodded in answer, but did not say anything. It looked like she was deep in thought. He could not blame her, he had no idea what it was like to be treated in such a way as she just had been. He had always seen her as a person first, sure he had to take into account cultural differences, but that is allot different than thinking because she was different, she was unworthy of any respect anyone would treat another person. Even a week ago, when they were not getting along at all, he still saw her as a person and treated her with respect. Never once did he attribute any argument to her species. Doing that would have been unthinkable for him.

As he was deep in thought again, he noticed she was pulling his hand up to her face, and she nuzzled it, then let it back down again before telling him, “Thank you.”

He smiled and took her hand up to his face, and did an imitation of her nuzzle with her hand. The fur felt weird against his cheek, but not bad, then he added a kiss. He looked at her blue eyes, watching him and said, “That is how I’ll thank you. I have been wondering, do Caitians normally hold hands with each other?”

She looked back out at the water, “No, not at all. It is just the easiest way of touching you. If I’m not touching you I start to feel odd, like the inside of my head itches. I don’t like that feeling one bit, so I hold your hand when I can.”

He looked out at the water too, then asked, “Ah, it is normal for humans that are a couple to hold hands though. While you are answering my curiosity, can you run on all fours as well? I thought about that sense we sparred, I saw you leap at me from all four limbs.”

She chuckled and nodded as she answered, “Yes, I can run much faster than any human, even at my size, if I run using all four of my limbs and back, and yeah I get much more power when my mass is propelled even faster from all four limbs. I use everything at my disposal when I fight. Don’t worry, I do not think you are comparing me to a wild animal, it is just something that is. Our necks are have one more joint and the back of our skull curves more than humans, so it is easy for me to look ahead while my body is prone, and my hip joints are different than a human’s as well so that my upper leg bone moves easily while it moves beside my body. I said you can examine me later, and I meant it, and as much as you want to suit your curiosity. I don’t mind, in fact I welcome it. I can understand when someone wants to learn something. That is why I came to Starfleet in the first place, to learn things I could never even imagine. I hope you will give me the same courtesy as well. I am just as curious about humans now. I know that looking at pictures is one thing, but being able to feel how things work together is another. I only have a small interest in anatomy, so don’t let my friend get word of letting me examine you, she will want to put you under a microscope.”

He chuckled softly when she mentioned her friend, “Just as you better not tell her about that boob in the office, she may just do what you mentioned to him. She seems very protective of you. I understand your curiosity however I have social issues to suppress, such as modesty. I’m sure given enough time I will get used to you, and won’t have a problem with that.”

She stood away from the railing, and took her hand away long enough to clap it once, then took ahold of his once more, pulling him after her heading back to the lab as she talked, “Right, fair enough, time to get back to work. I’m putting that other experience behind me for now.”

As they strolled slowly through the park he thought about the again ensign and was feeling even more protective of her, and it gave him a warm feeling she was a part of his life now. He would protect her, and do what he could to keep her happy. He glanced over at her walking beside him, looking straight ahead looking thoughtful still. He wondered briefly what it was like to fall in love with someone, and wondered how that would happen now.

They made it into the building with the labs on campus without further incident, then went into their lab, nonstop to a free terminal. Even as they worked, he could feel how much easier it was to work beside her than it ever had been alone. In just a few more hours not only did they finish there assignment, but they decided to add another paper after the bonus paper, this one on an idea they have on making a warp field even more efficient than they are currently in the ones they are testing for the next generation warp drives. During the last hour they went over there project again together, looking for any mistakes they may have made before they sent it to their instructor.

After she pressed the send button to turn in all their work, he smiled at her saying, “I had no idea working with someone would be so easy. Not just that, your perspective brings a fresh view on everything you share with me. As we worked it was like the missing parts to a puzzle were inserted, that I did not even know where missing.”

She turned to him just as the intercom chirped indicating a message followed. “M’Sara, Thomas, you are to report to Dr. McDaniel in medical at once.”

They looked at each other and at once said, “Acknowledged.”

The other cadets who was still in the lab watched them leave in silence, holding hands once again. He did not like being the center of attention, and he was sure she did not either.

As they walked down the sidewalk to the other side of the academy, he voiced his thoughts to her, “I hope she has some good news that is something I want to hear. I would like to know what is going on with us. Maybe we can live our own separate lives again, no offence. I like you well enough, but I would like some privacy again.”

She kept looking straight ahead while she answered, “I concur, and none taken.”

They said nothing more, and continued to go see the doctor. In arriving they noticed that the Commandant of Starfleet Academy was there with the doctor watching them enter. They stopped in their tracks and stood at attention and in unison loudly said, “Sir!”

The Commandant waved to them and said softly, “At ease cadets. I’m glad I waited for you, now I will not need to call you to my office.” He was an older male human, he guessed in his sixties, his hair was completely grey and cut short but combed back, he also sported a mustache.

They visibly relaxed, and stood at ease.

He continued, “The Doctor has found something that I think you both need to know. When she finished her research and a higher level of analyses of the data she gathered from your scans, I was contacted and we decided to bring more people in on it, so we sent the data to Starfleet headquarters, and we just heard back from them with a preliminary report. That added with a report from your physics instructor, I felt it important you hear what they have to say, and the doctor agrees. It has just been entered into your record that you M’Sara have bonded with an unknown kind of latent telepath.” He paused and they both looked surprised at that news, but they took each other’s hands and let him continue. “We don’t know why yet, but we do know this much. That bond is unique, in that it is your subconscious of each of you have somehow made a connection to the other. According to records, this has never happened before. We will need to study this more, and do more tests in the future so we can know exactly what we are dealing with.” He paused again, and they remained silent. He turned and walked to the other side of the entry room, then back before he continued. “There is a note on both your records, like it or not we have classified you both as a bonded couple. You are from this point on to live together the same as any married couple would. I have reassigned you both to a couple’s room already. There is also a special note to never separate the two of you in both your records.”

This time they did react after he paused again. Neither one seemed to be believing what they were hearing, they both as one shortly said, “What?”

The Commandant nodded, and said very seriously, “That is what, sir.” He grinned slightly, then continued again before they could say anything, “The doctor has concluded that if you two are separated completely, there could be physical harm. That is one reason we need to do more tests. There is also evidence that the connection between you will help you both in some ways as the report suggests from your instructor. You are scheduled for a more thorough examination next week, it has been all uploaded into your personal communications files.” He paused again, took a few breaths before continuing, “That ensign you encountered today, he has been dealt with. He had been hiding his feelings for years, it seems you set him off, and that ended his career in Starfleet. He panicked after you left, he must have just realized that the confrontation had all been recorded, so he made an amusing attempt to erase it, and that alerted security. I won’t put up with any kind of miss treatment of my cadets by any staff. Don’t go thinking it is just because you two are special. Everyone in Starfleet is a person, it does not matter what species and is treated with equal strictness, is that understood?”

They looked at each other, and Thomas said, “Yes.”

Then right away M’Sara said, “Sir.”

The Commandant chuckled then turned to the doctor, “I’m done here, good night doctor.” Then he turned to leave, walking towards the door.

Waving the doctor said off handily, “Good night.” Just as he went through the doorway. The doctor turned to them and waved them off, “Well I have work to do, off with you.”

They looked at each other, and shrugged, turned and left the office, when they got to the sidewalk, he asked her, “I’m hungry, want to get something to eat.”

She answered him with a big grin, “Oh hell yeah, would love to chase me down some human.”

They both laughed at that, then continued onto the cafeteria.

 

Chapter Six

 

After dinner they went to the dorm front office, and used its terminal to find what room they were now assigned to. It was on the third floor, now they had to take the stairs or elevator when they left or returned to or from their dorm room.

He had to complain, “Oh great that is going to add to our travel time.”

She poked him with her elbow before telling him, “Stop your complaining. How do you say, beggars can’t be choosers? I’ve never even seen a couple’s room, I hope it is nice.”

He huffed and when she poked him, he then said, “Yeah, maybe. I have never seen one either. I don’t even know any other couples. I don’t think I’ve even been up to the third floor.”

She grabbed his hand, and pulled him along, “We go to your old room first, grab our bags, then we go to my old room and pack.”

They went to his old room, he grabbed his empty bag, then grabbed hers, than they went over to her room two halls down from his. They packed all her stuff into both bags, she did not have that much and she had no shoes. What she did have was also of a small size. They found the nearby elevator and took it to the third floor. As they looked for their room they saw in the middle of the floor by the elevator that they had a café. Across from that was a small restaurant.

He stopped in front of the restaurant, and looked inside, “We get our own place to eat, and it looks like a real place to eat, not like a school cafeteria.” They could have went to the 602 club, but that is a bar and not a very peaceful place to eat. That is more a place to socialize or celebrate something. In fact, “Hey, we don’t have class tomorrow, and we got our project done, let’s go to the 602 club tomorrow night for dinner. We do have something to celebrate now.”

She grinned and pulled him along with her as she answered, “Now that sounds like a plan.”

They got to their doors and they opened. Inside their new dorm room was about five times the size as both of their old rooms combined. They walked in, and dropped their bags, looking around. A real couch, a home entertainment center beside that two personal terminal desks with chairs, off to the other side, a dining room with four seats, and off to the other side was a queen size bed, beside that was the refresher room door.

He smiled, and turned around as he looked, “Now this is more like it. They have finally recognized my talent.” As he walked by the bed the next thing he knew he was being knocked over.

He landed with his backside on the bed with a very surprised expression on his face and with her hands against his shoulders, straddling his mid-section. She said with a purr, “Oh yeah, your talent, yeah, it is all about you. I’m on fire, put me out, always about you.”

They burst out laughing together, and she rolled off of him, her feet kicking into the air as she laughed, it did not sound as strange as it did the first time he heard it.

He sat up, gulping air, “Oh dear, I think this just may be enjoyable, living with you, that is. Let’s go get my stuff now.” They needed the uniforms and PADDs that they had each requisitioned and any personal items they had for their daily lives.

They grabbed their bags, dumping them out on the couch and left their room, a giggle escaping out of each of them one at a time all the way to the elevator. Just as they entered they heard out from the hall, “Hold the door! Hold the door please!” They placed their arms between the doors and they reopened. In together walked a male Human, and female Klingon.

The Klingon smiled at them, and greeted, “You two must be our new neighbors that were listed in the general terminal. Would be hard to miss a couple such as you two.” The elevator door closed behind them as she continued, “It is good to meet you, I’m Lursa, and this is my husband Sam.”

We smiled back at them then M’Sara her ears forward and tail waving slowly introduced us, “It is great to meet you as well, I’m M’Sara, and this is my mate Thomas.”

He looked at her and blinked at his sudden status change, then he remembered what the Commandant told them. Thomas cleared his throat, “Yes, we are a new couple, and just moving in.”

The elevator opened at the main floor, and they all walked out still in conversation. “Oh, you two do make such a cute couple, don’t you think dear?”

He laughed at his wife, then coughed when she elbowed him. “Sorry, so hard to get used to you talking like a human. Then having you say cute, I just could not hold it in.” He turned back to them, “We should get together, hang out at the bar.”

Taking his now mate’s hand in his as they walked beside them, her tail was up in the air like a string was pulling on it, pulling the flaps of her skirt with it as she said, “That is a great idea, we were just talking about doing that tomorrow night for dinner to celebrate.”

They turned down the hall towards his old dorm as the other couple waved and headed for the exit while telling them, “That sounds great, we will meet you there.” Then they were through the doors.

When they got to his old room, they dropped their bags, and packed up his stuff.

He stuffed a shirt into his bag and said happily, “They seem like a nice couple, my mind is still working its way to coping with our situation, but if they become friends of ours, I bet it would help us too.”

She stuffed some of his pants into his bag as she replied, “I think you are onto something. We could use their experience to help us get used to how our lives have changed so quickly. If I feel I can trust them, I’ll even explain our situation to them.”

He zipped up his full bag, and nodded, “Too right.”

His stuff took a bit more space, so they had to make two trips. Mostly because his clothes were larger and he has shoes. They dumped their bags on the couch beside the other piles then started to sort there stuff. She took off the top of her uniform so that she was topless before they put the shirt with the gees into the laundry closet they found beside the door. When they got the rest of their stuff put away in drawers in the wall beside the couch, one row for him and one row for her. He went to sit on the couch and she joined him, sitting close to him. The bottom part of her uniform was a short skirt, so that her tail could come out from its back side that was split and over lapping.

She lifted her feet up and rolled onto her back then pulled off her skirt too, so that just her under pants were left on. Then she told him, “Now I’m comfortable. Now I feel like I’m in my own home.” She dropped it onto the floor beside her.

He looked at her and had to ask, “Are you going to do that if we have guest over, like our neighbors we just met?”

She grinned back at him, “Maybe.”

He rolled his eyes at her, “I give up.”

She patted his leg before laying her head down on it, turning sideways in the couch so her feet laid on the arm rest. “I’ll explain my culture to them some, and make sure they are fine with it first, if I feel comfortable enough with someone to get comfortable with them.”

He gave her arm a stroke, “This would be nice, a few days ago, if you asked me if this were possible, I would have said a giant resounding no. Now we have a place of our own, until we graduate, and I have someone I’m going to spend the rest of my life with, even though it was not something either of us wanted.”

She took his hand and put it on her belly, “Pet me here, I would enjoy that allot.”

He looked at her tummy and said, “So that is why you took your shirt off.” Then he started to stroke it gently petting her tummy from top to bottom.

She started purring and her legs stretched out, he looked at her feet and her toes were splayed out. Then she started to nuzzle his waist and leg. Her hands looked like they were kneading the air as he mentioned. “I see, I think enjoy may be an understatement.” Then he smiled wide and kept at it for a few minutes until she rolled over onto her side facing out.

She purred for a few minutes before saying with a purr, “Yeah. That is enough. I can only take so much pleasure at a time. Everything in moderation.”

He pat her head softly, “I enjoyed it too it was fun watching you squirm around. Is that something others do for you too?”

She turned back around so she could look up at me, “No, never. Only a mate would do that for me. We have time did you want to examine me now?”

He blinked at her before answering, “Oh your feet, sure, alright.” He had been taken by surprise by her answer and question.

She sat up then laid down the other way, so her head was next to the arm rest, she rested her legs in his lap. “Have at it, if you do something that hurts, I’ll just scratch you. Hah kidding.” In a dead pan voice she said, “No really, I’ll bite you.” She lifted her facing foot and waited for him to take ahold of it.

He took it in his hands, and examined it closely, he pressed against the top of her middle toe and her claw came out, it was very sharp and pretty large. She does have claws in her feet, he never seen them before, she must have good control of them. He was not going to test it, he let go and it went back inside. Next he gently poked at her center paw pad, it was soft, yet firm. After playing with it, and her leg he could see it really was just like a cat’s leg. Even the paw pads were identical to a cat’s. He felt the tendon that connected her leg muscle to her angle, and it was hard as steel. He bent her ankle a few times and worked her toes. All her tendons he could feel were like steel. “Fascinating.” She seemed to be enjoyed it well enough, her ears were forward and her tail drifting back and forth beside her. She was watching him with her mouth open a little.

She smiled over at him when he let her foot rest in his lap, before saying, “Next time you can give me a massage, my legs get tired from standing all day. Your touch is gentle yet firm. I will make you useful even if it kills me. I could use a good brushing at the end of the day too.”

He took her foot in his hand below her toes, and wanted to see if he could tickle her, so he tickled between her paw pads. She gasped, and her toes spread apart and she pulled on her foot, making a weird “murarr” sound.

He finally let got after a few seconds then told her, “That is what you get for calling me useful.”

She pulled her foot up to her and bent over, licking her foot between her toes, letting them go before she told him, “Oh this means war mister. I’m going to get you, when you least expect it.”

He watched her, amazed at her flexibility, but he said, “That kind of grosses me out, we have been walking all over the place, and you are putting that in your mouth?”

She blinked for a minute then ran to the fresher, he heard her gargling, and after a minute she returned licking her muzzle with her long, flat tongue then told him, “Yeah, and that was your fault too, I did not even think about being at the doctor’s office. That place is full of germs!”

She returned and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips, like she was waiting for something. After a few seconds he said, “I’m sorry about that, I was trying to tickle you, a type of mischievous play humans do. I did not mean to hurt you.”

She relaxed only a little, he noticed her tail slow done its side to side waving as she said, “It is something left over from our assisters, when we used to clean ourselves with our tongues, we licked between our toes, and our feet spread by reflex. It does not hurt, it makes me want to lick my feet.”

He clasped his hands, “Oh, I’m sorry. How about to make up for it, I give you a brushing, you have brushes?”

With a smile, she relaxed, her ears rose, and her tail stopped waving back and forth, “Excellent idea, I’ll get my brushes.” She went to the refresher room, and he heard her open a drawer, then close it. She returned with a pair of brushes with straps on their back sides. “Get off the couch, I’ll lay on it while you brush me.” Then she dropped the brushes into my lap.

Grabbing the brushes he stood up and waited, turning to face the couch, after a few seconds she laid down on it, face down, now naked, her under pants missing, on the floor next to her skirt. She had no problem stretching out on the couch, even though it was made for only two people. He put his hands through the straps and wearing the brushes he slowly brushed her fur. As he did, she purred loudly, and it was a very southing sound to hear.

After about ten minutes of that, she turned over onto her side, and he stopped as she told him, “That was wonderful, thank you. That will do, I want to talk to you for now would you get me some oolong tea please?”

He smiled and nodded, laying the brushes on the table, he walked to the food replicator, and it was a full sized one he noticed. “Computer, oolong tea mildly hot in a Caitian cup.”

After a moment it materialized and he took the cup that looked like a bowl with a handle and saucer and placed it on the small table beside the couch. She nodded and smiled, “Thank you. I wanted to tell you about some of my past.”

Walking over to sit down beside her he nodded before saying, “I would enjoy that.”

She took the saucer with the cup on it in her hands, rotating in her seat so she could place her feet in his lap, using the arm rest for a back rest. She blew over the steaming hot tea before lapping at it, drinking some before she started telling him softly, “I was raised on one of our colony worlds known as Riviera. Like some of our others, it had a mix of species, at the time it was forty percent Caitian, thirty five percent human, and fifteen percent Vulcan and 10 percent other member species.” She lapped at her tea again, before continuing, “I spent allot of time with other humans growing up, a human neighbor of our family had a girl my age, and we spent allot of time together. This is when I was very young, about six cycles.”

She paused and put the cup to her forehead and her ears went back as her feet slid off his leg, then her toes pushed into the sides of his leg, not enough to move him, but just holding him back. After a few minutes she sighed, her feet relaxed and she lapped up some more tea, than continued again, “When I was ten, I was visiting with them, we were in her room playing a game. I think her dad was in trouble, he had gotten mixed up with the wrong people, or something. That day, he burst into the room, and started beating me, my friend the same age as I was, could do nothing. Her father shoved her away when she tried to help me. I woke up later in the hospital, my aunt and uncle would not tell me what happened. They would only say that the family was gone, they went off world.” She stopped there, her ears dropping, and tail limp. She let the now empty tea cup saucer drop to the floor, sliding out of her grasp, down her body and off the couch.

Not able to contain himself, he leaned over and took her limp body into his arms and lifted all some forty kilograms of her into a hug. She soon reached around his shoulders and hugged him back, imitating him. They remained like that for a few minutes, her ears and tail remained limp though as he slowly released her. She did hold onto his neck with her hands clasped behind it, sitting in his lap now as she looked up at him, her eyes sparked with wetness.

She licked her lips then very softly said, “I wanted to tell you a bad memory of my long past, it is part of me, just as my hand. Know that I have never told anyone that did not already know. No other human knows of it either. That is what we do to deepen a bond with someone who is very close. I feel better now for doing so as well.”

Looking at her very feline face, as she held onto his neck, sitting in his lap, he realized that now he understood her much more than he had just an hour ago. She did not seem so different, she was a wonderful person wrapped in fur. It did not matter that she looked like a cat that walked on two feet to him anymore. How resilient she must be to have recovered from that, to him it seemed so well. That was something else he admired about her now.

He could get lost in her blue eyes, in even a softer voice she slowly said, “I seem to be bonded with you, something like a Caitian bonding. That is when a male and female become bonded from pheromones. It has become something that is more common in the last hundred years, for a Caitian to become bonded with a non-Caitian. I never thought it would happen to me however. I needed to make sure to tell you at some point. I figured now was a good time as any.”

She sat there motionless in silence as what she just said sank in, after a minute he said, “Do you mean it is more then what we were told about?”

She laid the side of her head on his chest, and inhaled, “I have become addicted to your pheromones, as well as having the adverse effects of being separated from you. Normally Caitians are very much against public displays of affection. Though having been raised among humans and that can affect a person. I don’t know if this is a one sided thing or not. On one paw I want you to feel the same way, on the other I realize that you are so much different than I am, and that is why it won’t likely happen.”

He started to look nervous, and he softly said, “Does that mean you will want to copulate with me?”

She closed her eyes for a few seconds before answering, “I don’t know. Normally we go into heat twice a cycle, and I take drugs to suppress it. As long as I keep taking the drugs, I don’t think so. I would not stop taking those drugs unless you wanted me to. We are not like humans, we don’t always want to copulate. Showing affection is a completely different matter however. It used to bother me to even hold hands with you in public, but as I have suppressed that, I have also grown more used to it in the past day.”

His hand slowly stroked her fur on her shoulder and she started to purr softly, as they sat there, he was thinking about what she just told him, adding up the events of the last few days, and now things made more sense.

Pushing against his chest, she got up and walked to the bed. “I say we give this bed a try, it will be nice to have lots of room to sleep.” She pulled up the sheet and covering got on it, before looking back at him with a small smile.

Slapping his hands on his legs to push himself up he stood up, he looked at the wall chronometer then walked over to his bottom drawer got out another pair of boxers, and visited the refresher. Exiting he went to the bed, got into the opposite side as her, and pulled the covers up over himself. “Now this is a nice bed, I bet I sleep better, not having to share the same space on the bed with you.”

Patting him on the shoulder she reached over with her head and nuzzled below his chin, purring softly, “Computer, Terminate lights.” She laid back on her pillow as the room became dark and whispered, “Good night my human.”

Smiling to himself spreading out on the bed, he reached over and gave her a gentle pet on the chest while listening to her soft purring beside him he drifted off to sleep.

He felt a weight on him he started to become aware of, light was barely entering through their windows half closed blinds he saw as he opened his eyes. He felt around and his left hand felt like it was beside something furry and warm between him and his hand. He felt something soft and furry against his chest and part of his belly, and he think he felt one of her legs going over his left leg. He felt around with his right hand gently and tried to see, but something was blocking the light from the windows, that may be her back. He felt her shoulder and shoulder blade on his right side. Was she laying on him, he thought. I’m glad she is not that heavy, though she does remind him of one of his old cats who loved to sleep on his chest. That house cat he had however was not even close to being as big though. With a sigh he felt around with his left hand again, that must be her other leg. She is taking up as much bed as she can, just like a cat would, he thought. He must have become a heavier sleeper, or something. That also explains why he is so warm, well he felt rested and did not feel groggy at all. He took a deep breath, now he is really stuck, well it is not like he has anywhere to be so early in the morning.

He decided he would take some time to think about the past day, now that his short term memory had time to integrate into his long term memory. He thought about how he used to meet a women at the lounge and date a different one almost every week, and how if one did see him more than once, it would end in disaster. He was never able to open up to anyone of them, and they would look down on him for it. The only women he had something close to a long term relationship is one he had before he left for his home town to join Starfleet. Her name was Monika, and had she told him they should get married, and he had said no, ended that relationship just before leaving town.

His relationship he had now with M’Sara was like a roller-coaster ride, it had its up and downs in only a few days. It added excitement in its own way. There was also how they worked together, if yesterday was any sign. How they had completed the thesis in hours, when it should have taken days. He realized that Caitians were on the same level as Vulcans when it came to intelligence, but it affected him too. He had been able to construct algorithms and formulas he never had thought about before. It was like his imagination had been super charged with knowledge he had never had before.

With a smile he stroked her head, petting over her short hair. She stirred and stretched, her leg pushing against his other leg her claws scratching against it. He cried out in pain, “Ouch! Your foot is scratching my leg!”

She gasped and blinked awake, while she laid stopped moving. She lifted up her head and looked at him with concern and confusion, “What’s going on? Did I scratch you?” She asked groggy. She got up and out of the bed, pulling off the covers.

Frowning he looked down at his leg, sitting up, looking at his right leg by his knee. “Computer, illumination, fifty percent.” Unlike her, he could not see in the dark so well.

Leaning over his leg, she was looking at it, her ears flat and to the sides, her tail limp but twitching. “That is something that is considered the worst affront I could do to another being. I feel horrible about it, even though I know it was an accident. I have scared my honor.” She ran into the refresher room, “I’ll get the med kit.”

He looked it over, it was not as bad as he thought, but it was not the best way to get out of bed. So he waited for her return and softly said, “Thank you.”

Quickly returning to him, she opened the small box up and removed the epidermal spray. It was for small minor wounds. It also disinfected at the same time it sealed the wound closed. She also got the wound cleaner, unwrapped it, rubbing it over the scratches. She put the now red stained rag into the med kit hazard waist container. He sat and watched, letting her treat his wound. She then used the spray along his inner leg. “There, that should take care of it. I’m truly sorry, it is considered a very big stain on my honor to do such a thing to another. It is even worse when that person is someone I care deeply about.”

Petting her cheek with his palm, he calmly said, “Listen, it was an accident. I’m sure it could happen again, thank you for treating it for me. It is nothing, really.”

She pulled away from his hand and closed the med kit, then laid her head beside his leg, crouching on the floor she placed her hands in her lap as she said softly, “You can inflict the same on me, I will not stop you.”

He twisted out of the bed, his legs going over her head then got up out of the bed. “I will only do what I think is right. What I think you deserve.”

She braced herself, clasping her hands tight, and her tail hitting the floor with an even beat as she waited with her head, face down on the bed.

Getting on his knees behind her he put his hands around her chest and drew her to him. He ignored her gasp and rubbed his head beside hers as he imagined she would like as he whispered. “I could never, ever hurt you out of vengeance, or malice. I don’t know how you were raised but if you hurt me and it was an accident that is all it is. To hurt you, is to hurt myself.”

She relaxed as she pulled her hands out from behind his arms so she could hold his arms to her as she whispered, “As you wish.”

He gave her a gentle squeeze before explaining, “If this happens again, if you treat me right away, there is nothing to worry about. Even if something worse were to happen, if it was an accident, there is no way I would hold it against you, do you understand that?”

With a pat on his arm she nodded, “I need to get up, and use the refresher room to relieve myself. I will think on it, and let you know if I understand it later.”

He let go, and got up, taking a step back to let her up before he answered, “Fair enough.”

As soon as the refresher door closed, his terminal chimed. He walked over to it, it said there was an incoming call, he walked over to his drawer and grabbed out his robe before he took the call. He did not know why she was calling now of all times.

On the screen was Monika, the women he left behind, her face was on the screen, “Thomas, I wanted to call you. I have decided I want to visit you there. There is a public gathering there in a few weeks for your graduation.”

With a sigh he rolled his eyes. “Why would you want to do that?”

She smiled, and answered, “I want to talk to you about getting back together.”

He did not know how to explain his situation to her, so he tried another tact. “Why would you want to do that? I thought I was clear when I left there. I need to spend all my time and energy on getting into Starfleet. I intend to become an officer, and I won’t even let you hold me back.”

Her hand tapped her cheek before answering, “I want to support you, not get in your way. You don’t have a girlfriend do you?”

With a roll of his eyes he answered, “No, of course not. I don’t have time for that.”

Her smile grew wide and she looked like she heard what she wanted to hear. She then said, “Than there is no reas…” She suddenly stopped, and her eyes were wide and looking beside him.

He turned and saw M’Sara standing there behind him, still naked.

M’Sara looked surprised as she said, “Oh dear, you are communicating with someone. I just wanted to see if you were ready to shower yet. I’ll go wait for you on our bed.”

He just knew this was going to add another complication to his life, not that he blamed her for it. It was just how his life always went. He turned back to face the terminal and Monika was staring at him, her mouth was open and her eyes were even wider.

After almost a minute she started to stammer, “Wha.. wha.. a Caitian?! Wha.. you.. her.. she…” She could not even make a sentence.

He sighed, oh great, he thought, he broke her. “Listen, I’m sure you are jumping to the wrong conclusion as you are apt to do.” After a breath he was interrupted.

Her face turned red and she started screaming at him, “You are sleeping with a Caitian! You left me for a cat! This can’t be happening! Have you lost your mind? What could you see in an alien covered in fur! She does not even have breasts! Hell if she had been wearing pants I could have thought she was a guy! You still like humans don’t you? Did something happen to you? I have to save you!” She reached towards the screen then it went blank.

He sat back in his chair with a huge sigh of resignation. He did not know what she was talking about, she had breasts they were just not full of fat like most human females were. They were built like an athlete they did not store fat on their bodies like humans did. That was all he needed. Why had she called him now, it was almost like he jinxed himself by thinking of his ex. Well he had his Federation history class today, how was he going to work that. He just thought about it for the first time. They never went over there schedules. They need to work something out. Putting Monika out of his mind he got up and walked over to where she was waiting on the bed.

She looked up at him as he approached, “It sounds like your friend is unhappy. Who is she?”

He stopped about one step away from her before he answered, “Someone I used to know from my home town. Her name is Monika, but I want to forget about her. She is not important.” He pointed first at her, then at himself, “We are.”

Her head tilted to the side, and her ears pointed at him. He could see the tip of her tail twitching as she said, “It did not sound like she feels the same way. In fact I think she has a thing for you, and I don’t like her one bit.”

Bending over, he placed his hands on her shoulders, and looked her in the eyes, “Look, if we are lucky, we will never hear or see from that person again. We need to worry about the now, not the past. You follow me?”

She nodded but remained silent.

He stood back up and clapped his hands together, “Good, do you have class today?”

Shaking her head she answered, “No, I only have the one we are in together. I have completed the rest of my classes already.”

Nodding he smiled, then said, “Well something worked out in my favor. That solves that issue, you will just need to take my other class with me. I’ll tell the instructor you need to be with me in class, it should not be a problem. I have an afternoon class today, after that we can get ready for our date.”

She stood up and walked past him towards the refresher as she said, “Alright, I’ll bring a PADD I can keep myself busy with.”

 

Chapter Seven

 

The door swished opened as they walked into the class room. His Federation History class was full of various different species from around all of Federation space. It was a required class for everyone at some point. He took it last because he thought it would be boring, and he was right, it did bore him to tears. It was in a large auditorium. It consisted mostly of lectures and quizzes, all very boring.

Walking beside him, was M’Sara, she pulled him down by the arm to whisper into his ear, “You did not tell me what class it was, I enjoyed this class allot, it was very entertaining. I will not mind sitting through it again.” She let him go when she was done.

He nodded but said nothing, as they walked down to where the professor was preparing for the days lecture. He already had allot of things on his mind and he cleared his throat before asking Dr. Abraham, “Excuse me mam, I need to inform you of something.”

Turning around to face them, she looked at them from over the top of her glasses. She was just a little shorter than average height, her hair was tied into a bun and mostly grey. She looked to be in her forties and not altogether unattractive. She was aging pretty well otherwise. She asked him, “Yes Cadet Thomas. What do you want?”

Nervously he answered her, “Well mam, I need to uhm. Is it alright if M’Sara joins me for class?”

Turning back around to write on the electronic white board, she finally said, “I’m aware of your condition. Please take a seat. I’m very busy.”

If he could count on one thing, other than a boring class, it was the instructor being short and to the point. He briefly wondered what it would be like to not have everyone communicating electronically and instantly. Having experienced some technology from the late twentieth century briefly must have made him think that. He remembered not everyone was connected back in ancient times. It must have been like living in the Wild West, he thought to himself.

With about thirty minutes left of the class the instructor was talking about a battle with the Klingons and how that in part drove to the formation of the UFP when an Andorian girl who was sitting on his other side from M’Sara, leaned over and asked him, “Is that your girlfriend? She is cute.”

She was average height but a little skinny for an Andorian. Her antennas slightly curved to the inside as they went through her white hair that was short cut and strait. Her skin blue like ice stood out against her snow white hair.

He turned to look at M’Sara her ear flicked towards the Andorian on the other side of him and back, but gave no other indication of a response. She was busy reading something on her PADD. He turned back to the girl again, he was not sure how to answer her so he just said, “Uh.” For once they were not holding hands, but his hand was resting on her bare thigh just past her skirt. She had suggest he do that sense she needed her hands to work the PADD.

With a smile the Andorian interrupted him, “If not, do you think she would be free after class?”

That got a reaction out of M’Sara, as she placed the PADD down onto the table, and leaned over in front of him with one hand on his leg right at the hip joint, the other on his thigh as he leaned back out of the way so she could to talk to her, “We are going on a date later, we will be at the 602 club tonight.” When she was done, she sat back up and taking her PADD off the table returned to where she left off.

The Andorian woman had left him alone after that, and the instructor went on about the disagreements between the scientist and the military of earth on how they should form what was to become the UFP. At the end, the instructor reminded everyone of the quiz for next week, and to make sure they studied up on everything she had covered the past two weeks. The instructor also wanted an essay about the formation of the UFP due next week.

Leaving the auditorium with the rest of the class they looked around and they were pretty much ignored by everyone else. They all looked to have their own things to worry about. He had only six more weeks of this before he graduated.

M’Sara with her ears up high, and her tail waving slowly from side to side pulled on his hand as she quickened her pace while she told him, “We are going to have lunch at the café on our floor.”

As he hurried up to catch up with her, he chuckled as he said, “I’m with you on that, we only have a few weeks to enjoy that.”

They entered the café, and looked around, it was mostly empty. They did not see anyone they knew. Walking over to the counter, they ordered from the barista who was waiting for them to order. She looked to be about their age, though she was a Bajoran, and that was unexpected. She was pretty with red hair that was cut short to the bottom of her ears.

He read the menu quickly then ordered, “I’ll have a triple large mocha espresso and one of your turkey sandwiches.”

She ordered next, “I’ll have small par’ctal please with a tuna on bread.”

With a smile and nod, she turned to create their drinks. With a mean sounding burst of steam she got started on his first. After a few minutes of standing by the counter he started looking around the place, sense it was the first time he was inside. It was a very quant place, with artwork on the walls of coffee beans and other things he did not recognize. They had what looked like stainless steel lamps that hung from the ceiling over each table, all the tables were the same and seated four. The tables were half black and half white, with matching seats with high backs that tapered at the top. The floor was a checkerboard of black and white as well. There were only a few other people in the place at this time.

Their attention was pulled away when she called out, “Your orders are ready, one mocha and sandwich, and one small par’ctal with a tuna sandwich.”

They took their drinks and plates from the counter, at once they both said, “Thank you.”

Sitting down on one side of one of the empty tables by the window with their meals they smiled at each other holding there drinks. All they could see was each other as they started to eat it would seem because they did not even notice the two that were standing next to them until one of them said something.

Lursa cleared her throat, “Mind if we join you two?”

Thomas smiled at her and Sam both, waving to the empty seats, “Please join us, won’t you?”

M’Sara just about bounced in her seat, her tail was slowly waving back and forth, and her ears pointed forward as she said with a slight purr, “Yes, you must sit with us, and enjoy our midday drinks with us.”

Sam laughed lightly as he sat down and put his food and drink on the table opposite of her as he said, “Gladly, I’m glad we ran into you two, it will be nice to get to know another couple here. I’m so very much looking forward to it.”

Beside him Lursa sat down too, putting her stuff down on the table in front of her, surprisingly it looked like human food and drink. She smiled at her leaning over towards M’Sara, they sat at opposite corners, and said, “Did you guys have fun last night, was he good to you on your newlywed night?”

M’Sara was just reaching for her Caitian cup, but her hand stopped, and she froze. Both Thomas and Sam were watching her. Her ears lowered as they turned slowly to the sides and out, but not down. Her tail started doing a twitchy wavy kind of thing, as it went to one side of her, then the other. Finally she answered, “I think you misunderstand. We do not intend on copulating any time soon, if you are referring to the ancient Human tradition after a marriage.”

Thomas cleared this throat, before saying, “Say Lursa, I would like to learn about you, you are as a puzzle to me, where are you from?”

Sitting back up and turning back to him she answered, “Oh, distracting me huh. I’ll allow it. Alright, I was raised on a human colony world Terra Nova. My adopted parents were Human, I was orphaned from Klingon and Human parents. They had died in battle against the Borg, they were members of Starfleet. That is where I met Sam when I was young, we grew up together there. We decided to join Starfleet together after we got married. I wanted to follow in my parents footsteps, and Sam wanted to follow his and me, and here we are in our last quarter. Now it is your turn.”

Looking over their uniforms, he noticed she was also in tactical, and he was a scientist. That answered some of his other questions, she was half Klingon raised by Humans on the first Human colony world. Now he understood why she did not act like other Klingons he had met here at the academy. She seems honest, and he decided to trust them. As he gave M’Sara a soft pat on the shoulder he said to Lursa, “She came from a Caitian colony world, I was raised here on Terra in a small town a few hundred miles north of here. We met in class but never got along at all. It was like two cargo vessels trying to go opposite directions while hauling the same cargo. So we avoided each other. That is until Tuesday. Something happened between us that linked us together. We are unable to remain separated for long, or we start to suffer for it. We were put together for medical reasons. We did not want to be together, it was forced on us. We are a couple now, even if we don’t’ want to be. Though I admit she is growing on me. I seem to be growing on her too, so it is not like we don’t like each other. We work together now better than I ever worked alone. We got our lab project done, that we had to do together, in hours, instead of days. In fact, that is what brought us together in the first place.”

They were all eating while he talked, so he thought he should eat too, after a few bites Sam asked him, “If you two didn’t get along, how come you two seem to get along so well now? Holding hands and such. You two don’t seem to be just tolerating each other.”

M’Sara having finished answered him, “True, I have grown fond of him, and he is of me, however it is as friends. We hold hands as much as we can out of necessity. We both feel an unpleasant buzzing in our heads if we are not touching. It gets inconvenient at times. It is not that I don’t mind holding his hand, I just don’t want to always hold it. Not to mention, as a Caitian, holding hands is not something we do in public. Any intimate interaction is done purely in private. To be honest I was not really raised like that, having been raised to live among Humans. I was raised knowing that however.”

Having finished he had to add his two cents, so Thomas grinned and said, “She does enjoy running around our room naked though, just the same.”

Lursa sat back in her chair and laughed while Sam sat there with his eyes widened some. They had also eaten there lunches by now.

M’Sara just looked confused, with her ears pointing to the sides of her head and said, “I don’t like wearing clothing because I’m covered in fur.” As soon as she was done saying that she kicked Thomas in the back of his calf with the pads of her feet under the table while she kept her confused expression.

He surprisingly said, “Ouch!” as he grabbed his leg under his chair, and started rubbing it then laughed lightly, his grin never leaving his face. She had not kicked him hard, it was more of nudge.

Lursa reached across the table and placed her hand over M’Sara’s that was resting on the table as she said, “You two really do make a good couple, and I know I’m going to enjoy being friends with you both.” Letting go of her hand she took her drink and consumed the rest of its contents as she sat back in her seat.

M’Sara with her ears half turned out and partly out to the sides, looking mischievous turned her head to look at him beside her, and he was watching her back. They sat like that for a few seconds, her eyes running up and down him before she said, “He is alright, for a Human.”

He grinned back at her, and told her, “She are alright, for a Caitian.”

They returned to their room to relax before there date later tonight. Leading her into their room he did not see her disrobe behind him. He was thinking about how nice the other odd couple was when he was surprised to see her sit in his lap naked except her underpants as she hugged him. He could feel her moist nose sniffing the side of his neck.

He chuckled, petting her behind her ears as he asked, “What are you doing?” He had to admit he was a little embarrassed.

Lifting her head back to look at him as she answered with a deep purr, “You said we were to relax, and I am relaxing with you.”

Just then, there terminal chimed, and the computer said, “Incoming subspace call for M’Sara from Captain R’Tar of the USS Darmstadt.”

She jumped up as she excitingly said, “Why would my father be calling me now?”

He just watched, remaining silent and staying in the couch, then blinked at her as the thought, did he hear her right?

She hurried to the terminal, sitting in front of it she said, “Computer, accept incoming call.”

On the display appeared an older male Caitian with black fur, he had no head hair, just fur but there was some grey in his fur around his chin. In the background there were visible stars striping the window from side to side of the captain’s ready room.

She waited for him to start, then he said, “It has been too long, my little one. How is life on Terra treating you?”

She looked embarrassed with her ears folding beside her head as she answered, “Father, please, I’m grown now. I’m fine, but my life has become complicated.” She had always been honest and upfront with her father. She was not going to change that now, however she was not going to dump it all at once either, she needed to build up her courage.

On the display he moved closer and his ears pointed forward in interest. “You will always be my little one, even if you were to have grandkids. I’m glad you are doing well. I called to inform you that I’ll be arriving in time for your graduation. In fact, I’ll be there early, giving my crew some leave time. Your mother misses you too, she would be here on the call too, but she has the con.” He tapped his chin as he often did when he was in thought, then continued, “Now what is this you said about a complicated life?”

She waved for Thomas to join her, then said, “Father, this is Thomas, we are bonded.” She changed her mind and decided to just dump it on him.

On the display her father raised an eyebrow, “That name sounds Human. Did you say bonded?”

When he got into view behind her he became silent, his ears remaining forward as he sat back and stroked his chin and for a few seconds before prompting them, “Explain.”

Licking her muzzle, her ears lowered as she typed some commands into the terminal, sending their medical records directly to him. When that was sent, she started to explain, “I have bonded to a human father and there is no changing that. I’ve sent you both our medical records so you can read the details.”

Even through the display her father radiated a commanding air about him. He knew nothing about him, but he was going to look up his public records as soon as he could after this call. She never mentioned anything about her father, that he captained a Federation starship is a big thing to just not tell someone. He put his arm around her shoulders, and he felt her relax, and even her father could see that over subspace.

With a soft sigh, he leaned in on the display and told her, “Don’t think your mother and I will not require a meeting with your new bond mate. We will be arriving in three weeks.” He reached up then the screen went blank.

He took a step back from her as she slumped in the chair. His knees got week, and he fell on his butt as the room began to spin. Moving his hand to his forehead he finally was able to say something in a voice that sounded a bit high to him, “You don’t think you could have mentioned your father was a captain of a starship in Starfleet the past few days? That is a big thing to just skip over.” He felt like his life was going down the drain hole, more like a singularity. Was he going to get him kicked out of Starfleet for bonding with his daughter? He did not look happy at all. He just knew he was going to get blamed for ruining his daughter’s life. His father was just an engineer at a civilian shuttle manufacturing plant. Even though he took after his father, he did not even want his son in Starfleet, but he did not fit with the rest of his family. Starfleet had become his way to get off this crazy planet, to get far away from his family, to do some good in and for the galaxy. He had made it his life goal, and now that was in jeopardy.

She had moved to the floor to kneel on her toes before him, she wrapped her arms around his back. Her ears were droopy, and her tail was limp as she leaned in sliding her muzzle beside his cheek, rubbing it. With her mouth right beside his ear she whispered, “Now you understand the pressure I’m under. What standards I have to live up to. The fear I felt for how my family would react to the news of my situation. It is not like it would have made any difference if I had told you all about it.”

After a moment of thought, he wrapped his arms around her too. He liked the feel of her soft fur over her back under his hands. They remained like that while he thought how she may feel, she would have to feel his wrath as well. He also thought about M’Lar, is that why she seemed so worried as well? He had no idea what it was like to live under such pressure.

Knocked out of their thoughts the door chimed, followed by the intercom, “It’s me M’Lar.”

She remained as she was, against him and with a twist of her head said, “Computer, open door.”

With a swish the door opened, and he watched her enter, and with another swish the door closed behind her. She stopped with her hands on her hips right beside them, and her ears forward, with her tail swishing back and forth she asked, “What is going on? I came to talk to my friend and I find you in his arms.”

She hugged him tighter, before telling her, “My father just called me, the call had just ended.” She said it as if that explained everything to her.

M’Lar took the chair from the desk and sat down, “Why would R’Tar call you now? Did something happen to F’elu? What did he want?”

He answered for her, “Her father is going to be here in three weeks. He knows about me and our situation, and he did not seem happy at all. I of course knew nothing about him being the Captain of a starship.”

M’Lar looked at him with her arms crossed, her ears still facing forward, but her tail barely moved now, as she gently whispered, “I see.” She uncrossed her arms then reached out and placed her hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze before she told her, “I’m here for you. You are like family to me, my only family. I have always been grateful of your aunt and uncle taking me in after my family was gone. We grew up like sisters, and that is not going to change, even if you did chose to take a human as a mate, it would not mater to me.”

She remained with her toes into the rug behind her, she let go of him with one arm and took her hand from her shoulder and pulled her down off the chair, when she landed on her knees, she took M’Sara in her arms from behind her. M’Lar nuzzled her then looked at him, before reaching  over too pat him on the shoulder then telling him, “I’ll accept you into the family too. You are likely going to need my support to make it through this, both of you will.”

It has been about an hour now sense M’Lar left, she had some things to do before getting ready to meet them at the 602 club. He had spent about the last hour brushing M’Sara’s fur, it has been helping her relax as well as making it shine almost like it was wet. Examining the brush he noticed not much fur was in it, not any more than one would have if he brushed his head. She was laying on her back and he had just got done brushing down her legs and feet. He grinned as he remembered brushing from her chest to her waist and it amused him, because it made her squirm.

She had picked out an outfit to wear, one of four that is not a uniform. The other three were tee shirts and skirts. This one was a loose fitting halter top that ended just above her belly with a miniskirt. The top was a midnight blue with just a little red in it, so that it was an extremely dark purple with black stripes going across the bottom back, then curving up the middle of each her breasts to the top of the low neck line that had a v cut to it. The skirt was black with matching purple stripes that went around the top of the back, then curved down at the front. Like all her skirts it had a double fold in the back for her tail.

She looked to have dozed off, as he had to shake her by the shoulder to rouse her, “It is time to get ready.”

She yawned with a huge wide open mouth, giving him a great view of her large pointy teeth before getting up. As she put on her outfit, he put on his, a black tee shirt with skulls on it that looked like they were painted, and a pair of dark blue loose leg jeans. Looking at her he thought she looked great in her outfit.

He smiled at her, “You look great, you ready? I am.”

Nodding she grabbed his hand, and headed for the door.

Walking into the club hand in hand he stopped, so his eyes could adjust to the darkness and she stopped too, waiting for him. Music was playing in the background, it was not too loud, they were considerate of species that had better hearing than humans, such as Vulcans and Caitians to name to name a few. The purple neon sign that was the 602 club, as purple was allot of the decor. It all went well with her outfit. Near the back was an area where people could dance to the music.

She waited a few seconds than took him with her as she walked further inside, looking around the club for them as her ears swiveled around as well searching with her eyes for a hint of their new friends. After just a few seconds she spotted Lursa and Sam, sitting at the corner booth, the club was about half full but it was still early. Pulling on his arm to get his attention, she pointed for him, then they headed to the table their friends were waiting at.

As they sat down, Sam half stood up in his seat, took each of one of their hands in one of his. “I’m glad to see you guys, we just got here ourselves!” Then he let go and sat back down as they did too.

Lursa watched them sit before telling M’Sara, “I love your outfit it goes so well with your blue eyes, sets them on fire.”

M’Sara smiled back to her with her eyes, and her ears perked up she replied, “Thank you, I like your red shirt, it goes well with your skin color.”

Lursa was wearing a silky red shirt of Klingon fashion with a pair of very Terrain looking rock-washed tight fitting blue jeans. Sam was wearing a tan V-neck polo shirt with black slacks.

Not soon after they arrived at the table a waitress showed up to take their order. She was Human that looked to be in her twenties, and just over average height, with blond long hair, and a narrow face. She asked them in a silky voice, “What can I get you?”

M’Sara started with her order, “I’ll have a Tongue Tickler with a Tra’mart please.”

Lursa went next, “I’ll take a rum and cola with your beef curry dish please.”

Thomas next ordered, “I’m in the mood for a rum and cola as well with your chicken curry dish and some steamed rice please.”

Lastly Sam ordered, “I would like a Screwdriver with your beef stroganoff dish.”

With the waitress taking there order on her PADD, she looked up after she was done entering it in and informed them with her silky voice, “Your order will be up soon. Thank you.”

As soon as the waitress was gone Thomas leaned over and asked them, “I don’t even know what you two are taking as your profession.”

Sam answered first, “I’m studying geology as my major. My wife is going to be a security officer.”

Thomas sat back and put his hand up to his chin, he looked to be in thought. M’Sara placing her hand on his arm, using it to pull herself closer to them leaned in to tell him, “We are both majoring in warp physics. Other than that we don’t have much in common. Even so I enjoy learning more about him every day.”

Thomas gently pated her hand on his arm, and added, “Just as I enjoy learning more about her. Would you believe she knows more about some late twentieth century Terrain history than I do? She has made a holosuite program with a bit of history in it, she showed it to me. I found it fascinating as well what they did for entertainment in days long past. You have to see it for yourselves and experience it too really understand.”

Lursa nodded listening, with a small grin on her face she looked at her as he talked. Sam looked surprised and told him, “I would like to see that some time.”

He answered, “We would enjoy having you both we could make it a party even, enough room for more than a few people.” To himself he muttered under his breath, “I wonder what Matt would think of it.”

M’Sara answered quietly to him, “Your Vulcan friend may find it of interest, only one way to find out.”

He nodded and said quietly back, “Lets setup a date, the six of us for next week later. We just have to talk M’Lar into coming too.”

That was when the servers arrived at their table with their food and drinks carried on trays. One of them announced, “Your meals have arrived.”

They sat back in there chairs, and waited for them to fill there table with food and drink. After a minute, they left, leaving behind what they ordered placed before them. They ate in relative silence, as they all were pretty hungry. M’Sara’s meal was very rare strips of what looked a little like beef covered in some kind of spicy smelling sauce that had some kind of small seeds in it.

It smelled pretty good to him, he may have to try some he thought, so he paused drank some water, then asked her, “Hey, mind if I try a piece?”

She looked at him, her ears perked, and then she took the half a piece she had bit off, and held her fork out to him. He leaned over and took it into his mouth and the sauce was spicy and like syrup. The meat was tangy, very tender, and it was not beef. It tasted rather good all together. “You know, that is really good. I’ve never tasted anything quite like that. Thank you.”

Nodding she informed him, “My aunt used to make it for me all the time, it is my favorite Caitian dish. It is not bad, not as good as she made it, but not bad.” She then went back to eating, as he did.

After he got done eating, he took a sip of his drink. He did not indulge in alcoholic beverages very often, hardly ever in fact. He loved the taste of rum with cola though. He noticed the song that started playing was one he liked. He also noticed she was also done eating and watching him while she lapped at her drink.

He told them loud enough for all for all of them to hear, “We are going to hit the dance floor, I like this song.”

Getting up he walked over beside her chair taking her hand he asked her, “Join me for a dance?”

She hopped out of her chair and answered, “Of course, be careful not to be overwhelmed by my mad skill-zaz.” Then she followed him out to an open area where he turned to face her.

He bent down and asked, “Was that a word from your native tongue?”

She laughed but did not answer him, and started dancing instead. He had no choice but to join in, she took his hands in hers, and they danced to something that sounded like trance-dubstep. He really liked the old classic music. As they danced he hardly took his eyes off her, it was like they were there alone together, yet in a small crowed of people that mostly went unnoticed. She was extremely light on her feet, it was like she was floating and she had such a good sense of rhythm too, such that he wondered if she danced in her free time as well. He soon noticed there friends on the dance floor too, not far off from them. There were only a few other couples dancing at the same time as they were.

When the song ended, she threw decorum to the wind and leaped into his arms, he had no choice but to catch her as she had a hold of him around his neck and her feet pads were on his knees so he did not need to bend over. She nuzzled the side of his face as she told him, “Oh that was very fun, I enjoyed that very much. Thank you. I’m going to take a break. Should let the food settle.”

She slid down back to the ground, and led him back to their seats. After he sat down between breaths he took a sip of his drink, that was some really good rum, he thought. As he was setting his glass back on the table he felt a weight on his shoulder.

He turned to look and someone he did not know had placed his hand on it, so he asked, “Can I help you?” The stranger was a Human and looked to be in his thirties, and he smelled of strong alcohol. He was wearing lose jeans and a plaid green and red shirt that fit on an average build, average height. His face was not pleasant to look at though.

The stranger asked him, “You be awful friendly with that cat lady mister. Don’t you like your own kind or somet’n?”

All he could do was look confused at him, because he did not understand what he was asking. Though it did not help that the guy sounded like he had too much to drink.

The stranger prompted, “Are you one o’dem freaks that be sleep’n with farm animals?” He chuckled then added, “You got kids runn’n around asking for their da-aa-aad” He stretched out that last word, attempting to make it sound like a lamb.

He could not understand why this stranger was bothering them, so he asked, “Sir, please, me and my mate are here to enjoy ourselves. It would be in your best interest if you left us alone.”

The stranger chuckled, then turned to face another table of what could be his friends as he told him loud enough to carry across the room, “Hey I’ll be garsh darned if I wasn’t right, he does be sleep’n with farm animals!” His words were only slightly slurred as he spoke. His friends got up and soon joined him at the table as he turned back to face him, two other young men who likely have been out drinking with him staggered over.

Looking around he noticed others were taking interest in the spectacle. He could hear her growling beside him and he did not look, but by the look on the strangers face he bet she was showing her teeth in a snarl. In fact he would bet that they were civvies here looking to pick up some young cadets to impress with their wiles. Along with that he would make a side bet they have yet to succeed.

As he debated what to do the stranger told one of the new arrivals, “That cat is his wife or somet’n. Could you imagine their kids, freakish cat people or some god forsaken thing?”

His friend answered, “That is against nature Billy Jo and it be unnatural. He be ruin’n marriage I say! We’ll got to do something!”

Billy Jo looked surprised, and turned around and almost lost his balance then he heard Lursa behind them, “Excuse me, is there some reason you are bothering our friends here?”

Billy Jo tried to back up but ran into the table, he lost his balance again, but his friends helped him back on his feet, “We don’t want any trouble with no bump-head.”

Thomas saw her pleasant mask drop, and looking dead serious as she said in a low voice, “You fellas want to leave now. You won’t like me when I’m angry.”

His other friend who remained silent all this time pleaded, “Billy Jo, we should go. I heard that a bump-head could rip your head off without a second thought.”

Thomas added to that, “My Klingon friend is in security too, so I’m sure she knows more than one way to do that as well.”

Billy Jo nodded his head, and slid out from beside the table and led his friends away as he told them, “Let’s make like a tree… And get out of here.”

Thomas watched them go, finding M’Sara’s shoulder he put his arm around her and pulled her towards him. She let him, and leaned against his side putting her arms around his mid-section.

Lursa put a hand on his shoulder as she said, “Well that was unpleasant. What was that all about, I wonder? I’ve never seen them around before, and I hope I never see them again.”

He shrugged then patted her hand as he told her, “I have no idea. I feel a little sad that there are still people living as if they are still in ancient times. One would think people would not seek out ignorance because something exists they don’t like. From what I understand humanity has been that way for as long as there is recorded history.”

She patted his shoulder, then said, “Yeah, I’ve read some of your history, it is truly messed up. M’Sara you sure got your hands full. I know mine are full, over full even.” Taking her hand away she slid it around Sam who had appeared beside her, and pulled him close. “I have my own you know, but one thing I’ve learned is for all his faults, I would not change him for the world.” She smiled, turning and kissed him soundly, holding him close. Sam had shown up at some point after they left but had not noticed when.

Thomas looked away, and turned back to the table, picking up his drink he took a slow sip, and thought about M’Sara. He likes her just the way she is, fur and all. It is not like he can change it even if he wanted to. He likes having excitement in his life that is why he joined Starfleet in the first place. His interest in singularities is what led him to be an engineer, not Starfleet.

He put his drink down, turned to M’Sara and she was watching him, licking her lips, her hands just letting go of the bowl that looked like a large Japanese tea cup her drink was in. Placing his arm around her gently he hugged her again while he told her, “I like you just the way you are. When we get back to our room, I want to get even closer to you. I want to know what makes you tick.” He did not know if it was the alcohol that was loosening him up, or why he said that, but it was too late now to take back.

She blinked at him as he sat back up, letting her go she nodded slowly, just once but said nothing. Turning her head back to the table, she quickly took her drink in her hands and lapped at the rest of it in a manner that said she was not taking her time. When she was done, she placed it back on the table, reached to the center, and laid her hand on the call button.

Lursa and Sam were back out on the dance floor, out of sight for the moment. When the waitress arrived she asked, “What can”

M’Sara interrupted her, “Another Tongue Tickler please.”

The waitress looked surprised, but took it in stride, “I’ll be right back with your drink.” She took some of the unused plates and drink containers with her as she left the table.

M’Sara got up out of her chair, and padded over to his side, taking his hand in hers she told him, “We are going to dance some more.”

He got up and followed her out on the floor, they found some open space. It was getting more crowded in the club too, so it was not as easy as last time. The music that was playing now sounded like some kind of trance-dubstep it even sounded like it had a violin in it. He found it quite enjoyable, and she seemed to like it too. She looked happy with her ears up, her tail curved up and waiving slightly. They circled each other, taking each other’s hands as they lifted them up in the air, then let go, moved back, circled, moved closer, and repeating it with variations. Her body moved as if it were liquid, he was entranced by her beauty. It did not matter to him anymore that she was not human, she was a wonderful person and he was finding her attractive. Maybe, he thought, it will not be so bad after all being stuck with her for the rest of his life.

After the second song they danced to, they strolled back to their table, Lursa, and Sam where already there, enjoying themselves, they both had another drink. M’Sara and Thomas sat in their seats, and they looked over at Lursa and Sam, smiling wide, and they smiled back.

Lursa put her drink down, “You two looked to be enjoying yourselves. I was worried that jerk and his friends had ruined your night. I’m relieved to see it was not.”

Thomas took a drink before saying anything, and M’Sara watched him as he answered, “They are not worth giving a second thought about. Yeah, I think if anything I feel better about how my life has changed in the past few days. What I mean is, I feel even closer to M’Sara now and I want to get even closer to her.”

Sam put his arm around Lursa, and added, “Living with your wife, life partner, or whatever you want to call it is a big change from living your life just for yourself. Everything you do you have to consider how it will affect the one you love.” He paused and looked over at his wife, then back before continuing, “I think after we finish our drinks we are going to head back to our room for some alone time.”

He smiled back at him and answered, “We are going to do the same. It has been a busy day.”

The four of them exited the elevator now on the third floor of their dorm building, then turned to each other in the hall way.

Lursa stepped over to M’Sara bend over and gave her a hug. Her tail went out in surprise, but she did not try to stop her, or object to it. She looked over at Thomas and gave him a hug too, and he hugged her back.

Sam waiting his turn, did the same, but when he hugged Thomas they patted each other’s backs. M’Sara was not so surprised, and gave him a little hug back. She was either getting used to Human behavior or Thomas was rubbing off on her.

Walking down the hall way Thomas did not stop until after he heard the door he was walking by open, remembering that it was his room, he turned and back tracked.

M’Sara running into him as he did she muttered, “Omph.” Then she followed him in giggling, though her giggle sounded like a quick purr-cough.

He had to smile at her as he softly asked, “Are you a funny drunk?” He assumed she was giggling.

M’Sara went to the closet and hung up her outfit after she took it off. The only time she seemed to care about her clothing. As she did another short giggle escaped her, as she answered, “I don’t know, I’ve never drank any intoxicating drinks before.”

He just realized the buzzing in his head was gone and they were standing about a meter apart. He happily said, “Hey, the buzzing in my head is gone!”

She padded over to him, now naked, and nodded, “It is for me as well. However I still want to be near you.”

He leaned over, petting her cheek as he softly said, “I want that too.”

As he was bent over she reached to the bottom of his shirt and lifted up on it, he helped her take it off as she told him, “I will have you be comfortable with me.” Next she undid his pants fasteners and pulled them down, letting them fall to the ground, he stepped out of them as she pulled down on his shorts, and he did not stop her. “Now you should feel better, be free from your clothing!” After she said that she started to giggle and got down on all fours, and then started to bound around there suite.

He shrugged and picked up his shirt and pants, and hung them up as well in the closet as she enjoyed herself, whatever she was doing. He was somehow not bothered at being unclothed, maybe she was right. Sitting on the couch watching her run one more loop, before she skidded to a stop, then she turned and leaped a good two meters onto the couch. She landed right beside him, turned and laid down with her head on the arm rest, her feet in his lap.

She smiled up at him, and giggled again before asking him, “Now you tell me more about yourself. Open up to me, please, I want to know more about you.”

He smiled a little and reached over and gave her tummy a soft rub, and she laid her hand over his as he did so he left it there. He looked around the room before turning back to look at her, in the eyes before he started, “That is only fair. I’ll tell you something, and if it bores you, you have only yourself to blame.”

Her ears perked up as she patted his hand, her tail going out as she turned her hips to point outwards enough for her tail to give it freedom so it could wave in the air, almost hypnotically before she told him, “I’m ready.”

Watching her tail he started, “As I was growing up, as I was in my last years of school, about sixteen, I met Monika. We hung out, and went to do things together. That was all fine and good until after school was out, she wanted to get into a serious relationship. I got my own place, working at my father’s company, I was starting my own life. I did that while I worked on getting accepted into Starfleet. She wanted to move in with me, and I said she could. One day I got home, and I found a file on the terminal, it was a wedding planner. I had no idea, so I opened it and it was for her and me. I was like, wait, what? I never asked her, and she never asked me if I wanted to do that. She just started planning for it on her own. I confronted her with it later, and explained she was going too far, too fast. I was not ready for doing that with her, or anyone. I had my future Starfleet carrier to think about. I was not going to stay and work for my father for the rest of my life. So I told her it was not working out, and she should leave. I was going to be leaving soon anyway.”

Pausing there he looked at her to see if she was still listening, and surprisingly she was. “That pretty much catches you up with that ordeal. You will be better prepared if she happens to insert herself into my life again.”

As she gently touched his arm softly she said, “Thank you.”

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Star Trek:Nautilus, Book 001. Synopsis and Origins

The original USS Nautilus NCC-31910 was a Miranda class starship that fought in the Dominion wars, a veteran of both the first battle of Chin’toka and the battle of Betazed.

Last known to be commandeered by Commander Elias Vaughn it was presumed retired or destroyed after 2376 but in reality it was commissioned to Capt James Winetree and assigned a final 3 year mission in deep space performing science expeditions.
This information was later obliterated from records due to the following events.
Its design and structural integrity was obsolete for front-line service but the catastrophic state of the fleet after the Dominion wars made it necessary to push one last race out of the old horse.
During its last voyage home to be decommissioned, the battered crew made an intriguing discovery: a Borg wreck in a dark and distant planet.
It turned out to be part of a drone ship on route to aid at the Battle of Wolf 359, which went adrift after the sudden impact on the collective made by the destruction of the other cube by Captain Picard’s Enterprise more than 10 years ago.
Eventually, with all systems down it was hit by an asteroid and all but disintegrated. After some time, part of the debris was retrieved by the Nautilus under the command of Captain James Winetree.
Although separated from the collective and the crew being dead on impact some systems and the data banks were intact providing the Federation with all access to Borg technology for the first time.
Adding to this fortunate discovery late 2379 saw yet another break-trough: The return to the alpha quadrant of the USS Voyager that was lost in the delta quadrant for 7 years.
Aboard the Voyager was a former Borg drone known as 7 of 9 that proved an invaluable asset in future developments.
Torn and traumatized by the recent Dominion war, Starfleet saw in this the opportunity to prepare itself for future threats vouching to never again being so defenseless.
A covert project was born consisting on a special ops team that can provide not only cover and escort for the fleet but also undercover duties, missions and anti terrorist activities.
So determined was the Federation that studies for genetic manipulation on humans was first authorized since the tragic events leading to the Eugenic wars long ago.
The subjects of those procedures trough Borg implant and nano technology were carefully selected among the most fitted and brightest humans in Starfleet in order to create the most powerful “super soldiers”, capable of the most physically and psychologically demanding missions.
The Cube’s weapons array and amazing database when allied to Starfleet’s own war experience for the last decade formed the corner stone of a new class of Starship.
Recognizing the importance of the it’s crew discovery and the price they paid, this project was named the Nautilus and the registration number 31910 maintained on the 1st new vessel to set sail: The USS Nautilus NX-31910.
Besides, being such a leap forward in anything Starfleet had what better name than the one from fabled captain Nemo ship in Jules Verne earth classic “20.000 leagues under the sea”?
Timeline
The executive decision authorizing the Nautilus project was made in 2385 as a back up plan following the Federation’s re-evaluation of its post Dominion war assets that determined the refocusing of some resources from military to science and exploratory missions.
The Nautilus would be its safeguard but the following years would prove such decision should have been taken earlier, as the Alpha and Beta quadrants plunged into turmoil from the last years of the 24th century trough the first decade of the 25th century.
The destruction of Romulus in 2387, the Klingon/Gorn War (2400-2403) followed by a new Klingon/Federation war that started on 2405 and its aftermath engaged Starfleet in a way that made it impossible to channel the resources the complex project needed.
Finally by 2418 the Nautilus is ready to sail.
The Starship
The Starship Nautilus is not an enormous vessel neither it should be.
It has a compliment of 40 crewmen with a full capacity up to 150.
It has a Voyager like Elliptical saucer and hull with no neck configuration.
The top half of the saucer has a bone-like spinal reinforcement in order to help structural integrity during transwarp travelling.
Standard armament: 4 weapons array both for and aft including multi phaser capability and photon torpedo launchers
Auto adapting shields and cloaking device. These shields are different because like any Borg drone it can adapt to new types of weapons it never encountered before. It also works as a cloaking device.
The Borg technology allowed for the incorporation of a large number of improvements to be used in more extreme conflict situations.
 Known as the Advanced Battle Superiority (ABS) system includes:
–          Bio Plasma discharge multi cannon for and aft
–          Bio molecular auto charging phaser conduits. As opposed to being confined to the phaser array there is kind of a net of communicating phaser veins enveloping the ship when it’s activated. This net has discharging points on every panel. The phaser power is channeled from the phaser banks to this energy “skin”  around the ship that evaluates targets and strength of the discharge needed to neutralize it firing from anywhere on the outer hull without any targeting system.
Although very powerful, the ABS system consumes a lot of energy and so its use is recommended only if the standard weapons prove underpowered for the threat in hand.
Self generated Transwarp conduit. The Nautilus can generate its very own Transwarp conduit mostly used to travel directly from quadrant to quadrant. This allows for a lot faster response and a broader range. This way, The Nautilus can travel outside the Federation Transwarp Network.
In conventional traveling the warp drive is used up to Warp 10.
On board ship compliment
In addition to the 2 normal shuttlecrafts, 2 new types were created:
–          The Manta Wing is a Close Air Support and Air-to-air squadron of 2 small two-seat fighter spacecrafts that operate both in space or atmospheric all-weather conditions. Highly maneuverable they are armed with phaser cannons and photon missiles and are used for protection of the Nautilus or in planetary strike/combat missions.
–          The SAR shuttle is a bigger than average shuttle with a 18 passenger capacity. The passenger area may be used as storage area or transformed into an emergency sick bay for planetary extraction of the ill and wounded. It has no weapons only defensive shields
Both types are limited to Warp 2 maximum speed.
As for the crew, after undergoing 4 years of training and genetic conditioning they are today, faster, stronger, more resistant than any human, and can easily measure up to other more physically gifted races such as klingons, vulcans, Jem’Hadar and even the borg.
Three more members were added: A Klingon, a Romulan and the ships doctor witch is the only non-genetically modified human on board.
Though its not their primary mission sometimes by contingencies of many kind, one of them being the insatiable curiosity of the Captain and his First Officer, the crew find themselves in places and worlds where no one has gone before, in the best Starfleet tradition.
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Faith (a television screenplay for ST:TNG)

Author’s preface: This episode occurs about two years after the episode “Pen Pals” and is a sequel to it. Thus, it fits in about the fourth season. That’s all you need to know to enjoy the story.

FAITH

PART 1

by John Comeaux

Scene: CAPTAIN’S READY ROOM

Picard is looking at his incoming mail on the computer. He selects an item from Wesley Crusher, and the video/voice mail begins.

WESLEY CRUSHER(On Video) Hello, Captain Picard. I received your last letter, and I appreciate the time you took to answer mine. I hope you’re doing well, and I expect you are. This is kind of a more serious request. Would you please send me some of the ship’s logs? I’ve included the Stardates in the list shown. Most of these have to do with the Traveler and his experiences on board the Enterprise. I need these for a paper I’m doing at the Academy. Things are really hectic here. I’m learning a lot, and studying harder than ever. (without conviction) Everything is fine, though. Thanks a lot if you could get me these logs. I can’t tell you how much they mean to me. Well, so long for now. Please give my regards to everyone.

The viewscreen again shows list of incoming mail items. Picard considers the video, and his expression shows concern. Breaking his concentration is the intercom. Worf’s voice is heard.

WORF – Captain, incoming communication from Starfleet Command on priority channel.

PICARD – Thank you, Mr. Worf, I will receive it now.

Scene: BRIDGE OF THE ENTERPRISE

Riker, Troi, Data, Worf and attending personnel. Picard calls his senior staff on the intercom.

PICARD (V/O) – Commander Riker, Counselor Troi, and Mr. Data, report to the conference room.

Riker glances to Worf, and he, Troi, and Data leave the bridge. Worf takes the command chair.

Scene: CONFERENCE ROOM

Riker, Troi, and Data take their seats. Picard is standing, and looks at Data a long time before speaking. Data glances at the others but they are not aware of any trouble.

PICARD – Mr. Data, you have really done it this time.

DATA – Done it, sir?

PICARD (Almost beside himself.) – Had I foreseen this much trouble… If I had known what the complications would be… If it weren’t for that girl…

TROI – Captain!

RIKER – What are you talking about …(stops himself) … Sir?

DATA – I wonder if you are referring to Sarjenka?

PICARD – Yes, that’s her.

TROI – Sarjenka — the little girl you contacted from the planet …

DATA – Drema Four.

RIKER – I remember the mission. The planet was breaking up because of …

DATA – Dilithium de-crystallization, caused by heat and tectonic stresses in the lattice structure within the planet’s core.

RIKER – Ensign Crusher and Lt. Cmdr. LaForge fashioned a probe to emit harmonic vibrations to stop the effect.

PICARD – Yes, yes, all that is true, but we still have the problem.

DATA – Perhaps if you told us of the problem, sir.

PICARD (Takes a long, loud breath.) – Your pen pal apparently remembers you, Mr. Data.

RIKER – Uh Oh.

TROI – I thought Dr. Pulaski was able to isolate her memory cells and erase her visit to the Enterprise.

PICARD – That may have been true, but what I have just learned from Starfleet Command causes me to think otherwise. Klingon intelligence reports that our visit was recorded automatically by a Dreman observatory. The appearance of a ship in orbit over the planet has apparently had a profound effect on the people of Drema Four. The Klingon monitoring has been under cloaking, so further sightings would not cause even more disruption.

DATA – Sir, in Earth’s space age infancy, unidentified flying objects were commonly reported. Would not our visit be just another occurrence, unexplainable and unrepeatable?

PICARD – There’s more. Sarjenka’s planet is close to civil war — a war that we may have unintentionally started.

Scene: BRIDGE

Picard, Riker, Worf, and attending personnel. The viewscreen shows a Federation vessel.

PICARD (V/O) – Captain’s Log: Stardate 12345. We are meeting the Federation vessel Heritage to pick up Ambassador Kitsman. Starfleet has assigned him to be the liaison for this mission to Drema Four. My feeling is that he is being sent to chaperone our investigations on the planet.

PICARD – Open a channel, Mr. Worf.

WORF – Hailing frequencies open, sir.

PICARD – This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard.

The viewscreen shows Captain Burk.

BURK – Captain Picard, I am Captain Burk, here to transport Ambassador Kitsman, and his luggage, to you.

PICARD (briefly puzzled, regains his composure.) – At your signal, Captain. (To Riker) Number One, will you please greet our visitor … and his luggage.

RIKER – Yes sir!

Riker leaves the bridge.

Scene: TRANSPORTER ROOM.

O’Brien and two uniformed officers are present. Riker enters.

RIKER – Energize.

O’BRIEN – Here it comes.

RIKER – What do you mean, “Here it comes?”

O’Brien does not answer, but nods at the transporter pods. Materializing on the pods are Kitsman and lots and lots of luggage. Boxes and crates of every size and shape. Riker and O’Brien exchange glances, and then Riker approaches Kitsman.

RIKER – Ambassador Kitsman, I am Commander Riker, First Officer. Welcome aboard.

Kitsman comes across as cocky, arrogant, self-righteous, and superior. He is actually worse than that.

KITSMAN – Where’s Captain Picard?

RIKER – He’s on the bridge. I’ll be happy to show you to your quarters so you can get settled before we …

KITSMAN (Impatiently) – Doesn’t Picard know the seriousness of this mission? Wasn’t he briefed by Starfleet on the urgency of my part in this? It’s no wonder his job is on the line.

RIKER – Excuse me, Ambassador?

KITSMAN – Well, it’s obvious that you are totally in the dark. Go ahead and get your people to put my belongings into my quarters. Make sure I’m close to the Captain’s quarters, so they won’t have so far to move next time.

Kitsman exits.

Scene: READY ROOM

Picard, Kitsman, Riker

KITSMAN – I’ll get right to the point. Our mission is to try and return Drema Four back to its original peaceful state. The same state that existed before a certain Starship Captain started meddling with the planet and its population.

RIKER – Just a minute…

PICARD – Ambassador, if you have a problem with our performance, I suggest you state it plainly.

KITSMAN – Ah, you’re not so slow after all, are you? I suppose the rumors aren’t true. Good. I’m here to watch the end, Picard. You’ve made a mess down on Drema Four. The religious fanatics are claiming that God saved them and their planet from destruction. And the scientists are saying it was beings from outer space. It’s about to break into a full-scale war at the very base of their society. Brother against brother. Nasty. All thanks to Picard lending a helping hand.

PICARD – If you have read the record, Ambassador, then you know…

Picard and Kitsman talk at the same time.

PICARD – … that the actions we took were to ensure that the lives of these people would not be wasted.

KITSMAN – I saw the logs, Picard. I saw yours, Data’s, Pulaski’s, “acting” Ensign Crusher’s, and the ship’s own visual log.

KITSMAN – You broke every rule in the book. You went out of your WAY to find these people and “fix” their planet. You even gave Little Miss Longnails a tour of the good ship Enterprise, complete with home movies from 600,000 kilometers in space! Ooh, it was beautiful. My mission now is to make it right. I’ll make First Contact with these people, and stop this civil war. Then I can make a smooth transition to the Captain’s chair, while they court martial you all the way to Siberius 12.

PICARD – Could we please get off the subject of the Chair and talk about the conditions on Drema Four.

KITSMAN – Ooh, sorry. I suppose you’re a bit touchy about that. Very well. Drema Four, fourth planet in the Selcundi Star system, Class M, typical mix of humanoid, flora, and fauna. Peacefully ignorant of the mad rush of beings zipping about the galaxy trying to help poor savage races that haven’t made First Contact …

RIKER – Ambassador!

KITSMAN – Then comes disaster. Happens to planets all the time. Earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, floods, meteorites. It’s nature’s way of keeping every one humble. “Does not the rain fall on the good and the bad also?”

PICARD – The useless extinction of life is an abhorrence to all beings with feelings.

KITSMAN – The Prime Directive does not have feelings. It is Rule Number One, and you broke it.

PICARD – That is the problem with living by rules. They soon rule your existence.

KITSMAN – All the better, Picard.

PICARD – If you had heard her voice. (At once regrets that he said it.)

KITSMAN – Gotcha, Picard. I did hear her voice. It’s in every one of those logs. I heard it, and I didn’t rush out to soothe her planet’s labor pains. You can’t squirm your way out this time. Kitsman’s here, and I’m not going to let the chair slip by me.

PICARD – You will never sit in that Chair.

KITSMAN – Or else? How about it, Picard? Care to follow up on that threat?

PICARD – Oh, it’s not a threat, Ambassador. It’s a fact.

 

FAITH

PART II

by John Comeaux

Scene: CONFERENCE ROOM.

Picard, Riker, Troi, Worf, Crusher, Geordi, Data and Kitsman.

PICARD – Mr. Data has prepared a report for us on Drema Four and the Klingon observations.

DATA – The population of Drema Four is approximately three billion one hundred twenty-two million six hundred eleven thousand two hundred twelve. Their civilization is remarkably uniform, and shows a balanced respect for life, growth, and preservation. There is an excellent food distribution system and communications network.

GEORDI – What about space travel?

DATA – The Dremans apparently have not attempted manned or unmanned space travel, although astronomy is an active scientific pursuit. Klingon observations and our deep space probes have recorded planetary transmissions similar to radio and television from Earth’s history. In fact, the parallels to late-Twentieth Century Earth are remarkable, except for space exploitation.

KITSMAN – And in the coming Dreman civil war.

DATA – The Ambassador is referring to differing viewpoints as to why Drema Four’s tectonic breakup ceased so abruptly, after bringing the planet to the brink of destruction. The religious sector of the population has claimed that a “god” has caused the near-catastrophe as a lesson for the people to repent from their evil ways.

KITSMAN – It’s worse than that. They offer daily prayers and petitions for mercy to their “god”. It’s broadcast planet-wide. The fanaticism is out of control.

TROI – Ambassador, the words “fanaticism” and “out of control” are opinions.

DATA – The anti-theists, on the other hand, point to the recorded orbit of the Enterprise as proof of alien life. Although their orbit scans are fragmentary because of the turmoil on the planet, a record of a vessel in orbit around Drema Four is otherwise unexplainable.

KITSMAN – Come on, Data. Tell them what it’s really like. There is talk on the news broadcasts of censoring the religions. And there’s a possibility of making a hasty entrance into a space program for which they are not prepared.

RIKER – I think you’ve extrapolated the facts a little too far.

TROI – In this case I must agree with the First Officer.

KITSMAN – Okay, point. Your favor. What now?

PICARD – It appears our shields are not sufficient to bring the Enterprise close to Drema Four without being detected.

WORF – A cloaking device would provide an effective means of observation at close range.

PICARD – Yes, Mr. Worf, but the Enterprise does not go sneaking about the galaxy in hiding. However, a little discretion is called for here.

GEORDI – By coming in behind the Dreman moon, we can certainly move close enough for shuttle transport. I don’t think they will detect such a small ship.

PICARD – Good. My plan is to visit the planet in appropriate disguise, and get first-hand observations of the situation. I don’t suppose I can talk the Ambassador into staying on the Enterprise …

KITSMAN – No way.

PICARD – … so I’ll personally take this mission. But let me make this clear: The first visit is for data gathering only. We will refrain from making official First Contact just yet. Dr. Crusher, your artistic skills will be needed to create suitable skin for us, and to join us on the planet in case of a medical need. And Commander Data will accompany us. We will need his experience with the Dremans.

WORF – Sir, I request permission to join the away team.

PICARD – I don’t think there is a danger here, Mr. Worf. I will need you to maintain constant contact with us on the planet. Would you please fashion appropriate communication devices to replace our emblems.

WORF – Yes, Captain.

RIKER – Captain, I don’t think you should take this mission. I recommend that I go instead.

PICARD – Your protest is noted and logged.

RIKER – Does you decision to leave me out of the away team have anything to do with my performance on the Malcorian mission?

PICARD – Oh, no, Number One. That’s not it at all. The fact is, considering our disguises and make-up, we don’t even know if the Dremans have beards.

KITSMAN – Quite frankly, the issue is on Picard’s shoulders. If he screws up a second time, well… (putting his hand across his throat, makes a cutting sound)

RIKER – Ambassador, you’re out of line.

PICARD – As I recall, young Wesley Crusher led the geologic team for the Selcundi Drema System. Mr. La Forge, will you work with any members on his team to provide a status check on our tectonic handiwork of two years ago.

GEORDI – Yes sir. I believe Mr. Davies is on board.

PICARD – That leaves you in charge, Number One. Any questions?

RIKER – Other than direct contact, what are our options, Captain?

PICARD – That depends on our findings.

KITSMAN – What a cop out, Picard… (Stops when Troi gives him a hard look.) Okay, okay. That’s the plan. When in Rome, dress like Romans.

Scene: READY ROOM

Picard and Kitsman are looking at the table viewscreen. Admiral Hayden is talking.

HAYDEN – Captain Picard, I find it very disturbing that you are only two days from Drema Four, and you don’t have a plan for this mission other than “observations”. The Federation has not seen such a blunder since the Nantokin observation post was discovered.

PICARD – Admiral, I will not jump to conclusions and risk further damage with a hasty plan. After our observations confirm the Klingon reports, we will be prepared to make First Contact in accordance with Starfleet regulations. That IS why Ambassador Kitsman is here, isn’t it?

HAYDEN – I’ve put Kitsman with you to make sure you realize the implications of the success of this mission. I do not want to hear that the Federation’s Flagship is the laughingstock of the galaxy. If civil war does break out, you will carry that burden for the rest of your life, Picard. Hayden out.

KITSMAN – I told you so.

PICARD – Kitsman, let’s get one thing straight here and now. I don’t like you. You are caustic, callous, and crude. But I’m going to work with you anyway. We have a mission, and we’re going to carry out the plan with my officers. And you are not going to play these childish games anymore. One more word about taking my place and I’ll throw you into the Brig and lose the key.

KITSMAN – Captain, really. I’m not a commissioned officer that you can order around.

PICARD – And neither are you the Queen of England. On this ship you are to follow my orders. Those are Starfleet regulations.

KITSMAN – Such a nervous fellow. You should spend an hour or so on Troi’s couch, Captain. The therapy may do you some good. Or, it may not.

Kitsman exits.

Scene: CAPTAIN’S READY ROOM

Picard is looking out the window. Door chime rings.

PICARD – Come. (Troi enters.) Please sit down. What do you remember from our visit to Drema Four?

TROI – I take it you mean beyond the record. The one thing that stands out in my mind is the conference. You admitted that you could not see every possible outcome of your decision. Commander Riker and Lieutenant Worf were positive that we should not interfere with the planet’s breakup. Dr. Pulaski and Lt. Cmdr. LaForge were positive that we should take every step to help those people. And Mr. Data, of course, agreed.

PICARD – Yes, Mr. Data. The one who reminded us of our humanity. The one who brought us to this fork in the road. He reached out to a young girl, both of them in perfect innocence.

TROI – In our discussion, you had made the decision to break contact with the planet. To leave Sarjenka to the fate of her dying world. Then you reversed that decision.

PICARD – Why? I am asking myself over and over. Was it the pressure to set an example? Was it the sound of the girl’s plea for help? Was it a moment of weakness?

TROI – Or a moment of strength? I know it’s not just Ambassador Kitsman that is causing your doubts…

PICARD – What? No, Kitsman is nothing but an annoyance.

TROI – And it’s not just the young girl, Sarjenka.

PICARD – No… So what is it about that decision that is so troubling?

TROI – I have heard enough lectures about command decisions from you to write a book, so I won’t repeat them now. But I can offer you this. The entire crew trusts you, you know that. But they have complete trust in you for one reason: You have faith in yourself. Authority is not imposed, it is accepted. We’re still here — we haven’t moved. You can continue to be in command, or you can hand it over. Personally I hope you stay.

Troi exits. Picard sits, thinking.

— to be continued

 

FAITH

PART III

by John Comeaux

Scene: DR. CRUSHER’S OFFICE

Crusher is working at her desk when Picard approaches.

CRUSHER – Captain. Come in.

PICARD – I received a letter from Wesley. It was good to hear from him.

CRUSHER – I’m glad he wrote you. Did he mention the paper he is working on?

PICARD – Yes. He asked for some of the ship’s logs. I sent them right away.

CRUSHER – He told me this is not just a term paper. It’s something really big, some kind of breakthrough. He’s planning to publish it in the scientific journals. He’s very excited about it. It’s all he talks about in the letters to me. Well, almost.

PICARD – Beverly, I want to ask you something. And it may really be none of my business, so please tell me if I’m out of line.

CRUSHER – All right.

PICARD – How is Wesley really doing at the Academy?

CRUSHER – As far as grades, he’s still in the top of his class.

PICARD – And …

CRUSHER – As far as friends, not too well.

PICARD – I remember how hard it was, between studying and classwork and lab work.

CRUSHER – It’s more than that.

PICARD – I sensed something in the letter. That’s why I came in.

CRUSHER – It’s jealousy. Wesley has had a career as an officer on a starship before he became a student. The other students can only dream about the experience he has had already.

PICARD – I see.

CRUSHER – And if that weren’t bad enough, there’s the problem with the professors.

PICARD – What do you mean?

CRUSHER – They are not immune from jealousy. From what I gather in the letters he sends, the professors resent his experience just as much as the students.

PICARD – I can’t believe that the Academy would allow such behavior.

CRUSHER – Oh, it’s not overt. You know what I mean. A word here, an assignment, or ignoring his questions.

PICARD – Ignoring him?

CRUSHER – They are taking the attitude that his questions are simply to show off, or to challenge their understanding. Really, he’s feeling like an outcast.

PICARD – I’m going to contact the Director of …

CRUSHER – Don’t even think of it. Jean Luc, you really cannot help him that way. Any influence you try to pull would only worsen the situation. But you can do one thing. Write him. Show him your support. But whatever you do, don’t let him know what I told you. One hint from you, and all your support will seem like sympathy.

PICARD – You know how fond I am of Wesley.

CRUSHER – Yes. I know.

PICARD – I will handle this with the utmost care, Beverly. Thank you for confiding in me.

Scene: SICK BAY

Dr. Crusher, Data, Picard, Dr. Sennard, and attending medical personnel. Crusher is measuring and scanning Data’s head and face, Sennard is doing the same to Picard.

CRUSHER(To Data) I’ve been trying to find out what the variations in skin coloring and features of the Dremans are, so I can come up with reasonable skin masks for us.

PICARD(To Crusher) As we approach Drema Four, I’m sure we can pick up enough communication signals to piece together a cross section of the population, Doctor.

CRUSHER – I’m counting on that, but I wish we had more information now. I’ve also checked the records from the Klingon observations, but the details are lacking.

SENNARD – There you are, Captain. We’ll be working on the mask shortly.

PICARD – Thank you, Dr. Sennard.

Picard leaves, and passes Kitsman on his way in. Kitsman takes a seat on the table. Sennard begins scanning him.

CRUSHER(To Data) Did you see any photographs of Sarjenka’s family in their home? Anything that would tell us about facial hair, different races, other obvious features?

DATA – I did not see photographs, but there were many objects of artistic design and useful function in the home. This is apparently of some importance to the Dremans. I also did not see objects of religious worship or ceremonial purposes in the room I was in. I would find it contradictory for Sarjenka’s family to have faith in a god when she was sending transmissions into space.

CRUSHER – What do you mean, that science and religion don’t mix?

KITSMAN – Science mixes with anything but religion, Doctor. Data is being quite logical.

SENNARD – I have faith in God.

The statement startles everyone in the room except Crusher

KITSMAN(Laughing to break the nervousness) A true believer, eh Doc?

SENNARD – The great thing about it is, God exists whether there are true believers or not. My belief in a creative, loving, holy God is logical when I look at the commonality of beings across the galaxy. No matter the personalities, races, or chemistry, there is enough common ground for me to see how God could have fashioned each creature. Endowed it with the ability to love and the chance to choose.

KITSMAN – I would venture to say not many of your shipmates agree with you.

SENNARD – You would be wrong, sir.

DATA – The subject of god is fascinating to me, Dr. Sennard. May I ask you a question? Why does God exist? What was there before God? What is the nature of God? Why does God not speak to us? Why does God allow evil and suffering in the universe? Which of the religions that exist …

SENNARD – Whoa, Mr. Data. You have more questions than I have answers. But I’d love to talk to you about it when we have more time.

DATA – Yes, I would appreciate that, Doctor.

KITSMAN – Are you recruiting for your religion, Doctor?

SENNARD – Why, are you interested too, Ambassador?

KITSMAN – Well, no, I just, uh, …

SENNARD – Let me know if you do get curious.

Scene: TEN FORWARD

Kitsman is sitting at the bar and Guinan is serving him another drink. Worf is also at the bar, within earshot.

KITSMAN – … So the professor asks the third Klingon “How much is two plus two,” and he thinks, and growls, and howls, and the whole Klingon graduating class leans forward and waits, and finally the Klingon shouts “FOUR”, and with one loud voice, the whole class says “Awwww.”

Guinan keeps a straight face. Worf is angered, but does not get up. Kitsman looks over at Worf, raises his drink, and smiles. Worf growls, but stays put.

GUINAN – Ambassador Kitsman, were you in show business before?

KITSMAN – You can sense that part of me, eh sweet lady? No, I was not, but my family was once. It’s in my blood. Long ago, the traveling circus of Kitsman and Peabody traveled the galaxy performing for kings and princes, beloved by millions.

GUINAN – You’re sure you weren’t one of the performers? A clown, perhaps?

KITSMAN – Ah, dear lady. You flatter me. But if that great circus were still performing, I would easily rise to the position of Ring-Master, out in front and in control.

GUINAN – So what’s a performer like you doing as a Federation Ambassador?

KITSMAN – It’s my love for all species. My fondest desire is to bring them the benefits of belonging to the Federation of Planets.

GUINAN – The benefits.

KITSMAN – Yes. The order, the diversity, the beauty.

GUINAN – Not to mention our superior technology.

KITSMAN – Yes.

GUINAN – And our superior knowledge.

KITSMAN – That’s true…

GUINAN – And our superior attitude.

KITSMAN – What?

GUINAN – Look, Captain Picard has been on missions of this type before. He has worked under extremely dangerous conditions. He has made First Contact before. Starfleet has placed its complete trust in him without someone from Headquarters holding his hand. (With contempt) What are YOU doing here?

KITSMAN – Ah, my dear sneaky lady. Haven’t you heard? I am here to bring the legendary Picard to his knees, and show the world what a pompous overblown windbag he really is. All smoke and mirrors. Just like the circus.

GUINAN – I don’t know whom you know at Starfleet. And I don’t know whom you convinced to let you take this mission. But I can see past your little scheme. You think Picard is an easy target. You found a situation that looks like a screwup, and you’re going to be the vulture. Sorry, Ring-Master. Your plan is going to backfire. Captain Picard is capable of turning this around.

KITSMAN – It’s too late. He screwed it up two years ago. And now that the situation is out of control, Picard’s incompetence will be laid out in the open for everyone to see. He’s finished.

FAITH

PART IV

by John Comeaux

Scene: SHUTTLE BAY

Picard, Geordi, Worf, and attending personnel are loading equipment into the shuttle.

PICARD – Mr. La Forge, report, please.

GEORDI – The planet is still stable, Captain. That’s not to say that it won’t start breaking up sometime in the future, but for the near term at least, you’re on solid ground.

PICARD – Thank you.

GEORDI – Something else, Captain. The planet’s core of dilithium crystal is incredibly dense, and highly polarized. We’ve never encountered such a large deposit in a single place. I can’t begin to predict what the effect will be to the ship sensors, navigation systems, whatever.

PICARD – Then we should keep in close contact. Mr. Worf, what do you have for us?

WORF(Handing him four wrist bands) These wrist bands function just as the communicator and locator. They will be “on” the whole time. The signal will be relayed by the shuttle to the Enterprise.

PICARD – Excellent, Mr. Worf. Are we all ready, then?

KITSMAN(From inside the shuttle) What are you stalling for, Picard? Get in and let’s go.

Picard starts to get into the shuttle, when Troi enters the Bay.

TROI – Captain!

PICARD – Yes Counselor.

TROI – We’ve been monitoring the planet’s news media. Data’s friend Sarjenka is missing.

Scene: SHUTTLE ORBITING DREMA FOUR

Picard, Kitsman, Crusher are passengers. Ensign Ford is piloting, with Data as co-pilot. Crusher is applying make-up for the mask to Picard. She is already wearing hers. They are listening to a news report from the planet.

RADIO VOICE – No one has seen young Sarjenka or her older brother Senkar in the past month. The police, the media, the Combi Assembly and the curious are all looking for her. It is believed she has gone into hiding because of speculation that she, and she alone, is the key to understanding Drema Four’s near self-destruction two years ago. Scientists are still puzzling over the singing stone left in her hands after the planet’s restoration. In other news, the General Secretary has lifted the curfew over the Capital city today, since the protesting has abated.

Data shuts off the speaker.

KITSMAN – What a mess. When we make First Contact, I hope we can straighten some of it out.

PICARD – Kitsman, you are so sure that we are going to make First Contact with the Dremans.

KITSMAN (Sarcastically) That’s right. Let’s give credit where credit is due. You beat us all to it, two years ago. A little unusual, perhaps. A shocking lack of protocol. A lame excuse for beaming down. Blatant disregard for regulations…

PICARD – Ambassador, you are once again beating a dead issue. As for First Contact, I have not made the decision yet to go that far. I am not buying the assumption that our visit was the sole cause of the turmoil on the planet. Protest marches happen to many civilizations for valid reasons, not all of which have to do with extra-terrestrials.

KITSMAN – You have buried your head in the sand. These people have let their religious emotions run rampant. I fully expect to see a Holy War in progress.

PICARD – Now there’s an oxymoron I haven’t heard in a long time. “Holy War” indeed. I don’t think these people are so primitive as to allow it to go that far.

KITSMAN – We’ll see.

DATA – Captain, may I ask you a personal question?

PICARD – Of Course.

DATA – Do you believe in a god?

PICARD – Whew. For a minute I thought you were going to get serious.

Data cocks his head and then realizes that it was a little joke.

PICARD – Although I’ve not seen God, I’ve seen things in this universe that I just couldn’t explain any other way except that they are “acts of God.”

DATA – Are you referring to miracles?

PICARD – I mean events which were miraculous. They defeat all my attempts to rationalize them. And some of these things were very positive. Others, …(Shakes his head)… Others were quite destructive.

Data ponders this a while, then turns to Crusher.

DATA – Doctor, may I ask you a personal question?

CRUSHER – Somehow I know that I would be next. When Jack died, I went through a long period of self-examination. I was searching for faith in God, in something constant. I found a strength in myself that I didn’t know was there. The need to take care of Wesley certainly helped. Dr. Sennard and I have discussed the issue of God quite a bit… but …

DATA – …Her feelings are not yours?

KITSMAN – Well I’ll tell you what I think. Rubbish. Superstition and bigotry. The main cause of wars and hatred among people. And when you die, Pphhtt. It’s all over.

PICARD – And what about you, Mr. Data? If you can be so direct in asking the questions, what have you decided about faith?

DATA – My research on the subject of God is extensive. The concept of God seems to be almost universal among the intelligent life forms. Beings we have encountered such as the “Q” certainly fill many of the attributes of a god: immortal, invincible. But the lack of compassion in “Q” is noticeable. Still, I have not found an entity that completes the picture of what “God” is supposed to be. I cannot even theorize one.

KITSMAN – Every race makes God in its own image, Data. Perhaps yours is a supercomputer at the center of the galaxy.

DATA – No computing elements have been detected at the galaxy’s center, Ambassador. And if any were, the interference from ….

KITSMAN – Never mind.

 

FAITH

PART V

by John Comeaux

Scene: THE PLANET DREMA FOUR

Keller, a young Dreman boy of about 9 is playing in his play fort in a wooded area with a clearing nearby. The cover and side of his fort is clearly a thin flap of scrap metal which, it will be discovered, shields the boy from detection by the shuttle.

The boy is playing “spaceman” by himself when the shuttle lands in the clearing nearby. He is wind-blown by the landing but not hurt. He watches it wide-eyed, but keeps out of sight, and behind the scrap metal.

Data, Picard, Kitsman and Crusher exit the shuttle, assessing the area and their disguises.

DATA – (Using the tricorder) Captain, we are approximately eight kilometers from the nearest town. Scanners show no Dreman life forms in this area. I conclude that the life form reading we detected earlier was an animal that has now returned to its abode.

PICARD – Very good. Since it is sunrise here, we have time to reach town before we are noticed, and we can begin our investigations. We will go in two teams. Mr. Data, you and Dr. Crusher will be covering the northern end of the town, and rendezvous with us here by sundown.

KITSMAN – Starfleet wants this done right, so listen up.

The others give each other the “Oh Brother” look.

KITSMAN – We are intruders on this planet, not guests. Our job is certainly not to cause trouble. We’ll watch, listen, wait, and everything will be recorded for later assessment. If you are questioned, you know what to say. If you are provoked, ignore it. If you are at risk of being discovered, use phasers only as a last resort …

PICARD – (Cutting him off) Ambassador, there are phaser weapons locked in the shuttle, but I will not issue them here. We are not in danger on this planet.

KITSMAN – The hell we aren’t, Picard. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to get my head blown off in some local war that you provoked.

PICARD – And what makes you think that swinging a phaser on your hip is going to reduce the likelihood of being blown up?

Kitsman looks at Picard angrily, but has no answer.

PICARD – (To officer in shuttle) Ensign Ford, what’s our status?

ENSIGN FORD – Sir, the Enterprise reports your communicators are coming in loud and clear for now. However, the Selcundi solar activity will be increasing sometime in the next 12-24 hours. This could interfere with transmissions.

PICARD – Enough to affect shuttle communications?

ENSIGN FORD – Not likely, sir. The ship’s power supply will be able to relay the signals. Boost them if necessary.

PICARD – Very good, then. Let’s get to work.

The away team of four start walking, and the Ensign watches them a moment, then enters the shuttle and closes the door. The Dreman boy, Keller, observes everything, then sneaks closer to the clearing.

KELLER – (whispers to himself excitedly) Wait till I tell them! Aliens!

Keller begins to follow them.

Scene: DREMAN TOWN OF TREETON, OUTSIDE OF A TAVERN

The tavern is well ordered, and the buildings nearby are also simple and decorative.

Picard and Kitsman stop at a safe distance from the tavern. A few Dremans are leaving or entering the building, but it is not busy.

PICARD – The harmony of design and function is astounding here.

KITSMAN – We won’t learn much looking at the scenery, Picard.

PICARD – Where are the signs of an impending civil war? Where is the turmoil? And the protesters? I wish I’d brought Troi. Her ability to sense these people’s emotions could help us.

KITSMAN – We don’t need Troi if we just get a little closer to them. There’s a tavern if ever I saw one. So, do we enter and get some information or are you just going to “sense” these people?

PICARD – Enter that tavern? And do what? Order a brandy? Charge it to Starfleet?

While they are talking, they have attracted the attention of two of the Dremans, who now approach them.

DREMAN 1 (KRAIG) – May I help you, stranger?

PICARD – (Caught off guard, but recovers) We have come South to visit a friend’s home, and we are not sure how much farther it is. Could you tell us what is the next town?

KRAIG – That is Treeton. Is that your destination?

PICARD – It appears we are headed in the right direction, sir. Thank you very much for your trouble.

KRAIG – Won’t you be my guest for a drink.

KITSMAN – (Cuts in before Picard can answer) We would be most honored, thank you.

KRAIG – My name is Kraig. This is Benote.

KITSMAN – My name is Kitsman.

PICARD – I am Picard.

The four head into the tavern.

Scene: INSIDE THE TAVERN

The four enter the tavern, followed by Keller, unnoticed.

KRAIG – (To Barkeeper) Jalkie. A round of bella for us. (Turning to Picard, in a jovial manner) So you have come South? Then you have come from Youden. I have friends there, perhaps you know them.

KITSMAN – We have come from farther North.

BENOTE – Farther North than Youden? There are no more towns.

KITSMAN – Our home is in a rural area. We don’t live near the towns.

BENOTE – Where?

KITSMAN – Uh. It is a very distant area. Very … very distant.

The Dremans in the tavern are all curious now, and look at Kitsman and Picard with extreme interest.

KITSMAN – Um. Earth.

BENOTE – Earth? I have never heard of it.

KITSMAN – It’s … north.

KRAIG – A toast, then, to our visitors from Earth.

All raise their glasses and drink.

Scene: THE CLEARING NEAR THE SHUTTLE.

Four Dreman boys are approaching.

DREMAN BOY KINO – Boy, we come all this way just to see Keller’s fort. It had better be good.

DREMAN BOY YOND – Keller said he used a secret panel for the walls and roof. He said it was so strong, you could stay in it even in a rain, or an earthquake, or a storm, or …

KINO – I know what he said, Yond. He was just bragging. It’s probably just another stupid cardboard fort…

Kino stops suddenly and looks ahead. The other boys look ahead and see the Enterprise Shuttle. They are awestruck for a few seconds, and then jump for joy.

They are petting the shuttle and climbing on it and trying to find a way in.

DREMAN BOYS – (ad lib) Yippee! Hooray! Look at it! It’s really like he said. You could stay in this fort for a week. You could live in this fort forever! How do you get in? Where’s the door?

ENSIGN FORD – (Inside the shuttle, looking at the boys) Oh no! I have to get rid of them. (Opens the door, exits the shuttle) Hey, you kids. Get off of there.

KINO – Who are you? What are you doing in Keller’s fort?

ENSIGN FORD – Ensign Ford, serial number A-1-7-3-2-dash-5-2-7-4-9.

While he is answering, two of the boys climb into the shuttle door behind Ensign Ford. They start to shout “Hey, look in here. It’s full of equipment and gadgets and stuff.”

ENSIGN FORD – Now look, get out of here, you two. This is dangerous. Don’t touch that. Leave that alone.

The remaining boys enter the shuttle and take over, spinning in the chairs and trying all the controls. Ensign Ford is helpless to stop them.

FAITH

PART VI

by John Comeaux

Scene: OUTDOOR CAFE IN TREETON

Crusher and Data are at a table at an outdoor cafe.

CRUSHER – (Looking at the menu) Well, Data, what will you have?

DATA – I do not believe we will be able to order refreshments since we do not have any Dreman currency. However, the menu does look interesting.

CRUSHER – You can read this writing?

DATA – It is similar to Aurelian, Cornelian, and Vulcan, with traces of another root that I cannot identify.

CRUSHER – I wonder if we can learn anything from the kinds of foods the Dremans prefer?

DATA – That is highly unlikely, Doctor. However, we may be able to learn something from the things the Dremans read.

CRUSHER – What do you mean, the menu?

Data gestures to Crusher to look at the woman at the next table, and leans closer to Crusher. The woman is reading from a blue flat rectangular object that, we will learn, is an electronic Dreman newspaper.

DATA – (Lowering his voice) The person at the next table is deeply engrossed with that device in her hand. It would be helpful to see what is so interesting …

Data is interrupted by a Dreman waiter.

WAITER – Good morning. Our breakfast special is a freshly baked Cruman, two greegs, a glass of orolo, and koffel, regular or de-spleegered.

CRUSHER – Thank you, we’ll just have water, please.

WAITER – Wa – ter?

DATA – Two glasses of agua, please.

The waiter turns, disappointed. Meanwhile, the woman has left, and the waiter picks up his tip from the table. The blue tablet remains. Data waits until the waiter leaves, and picks up the tablet.

CRUSHER – Data, what is it?

DATA – I believe it is a communication device. I am not sure if it is capable of both transmitting and receiving. Ah, here is a switch.

Data pushes the switch and the device lights up. It resembles an electronic newspaper.

DATA – This appears to be a receiver. It is showing news from all parts of Drema Four. There are sections on local events, sports, entertainment, comic pages … The list continues for news stories for the past several weeks. The planet quakes still dominate the news.

CRUSHER – What can we learn about the different factions here? …Data?… Data?

DATA – Here is information on the singing stone. It is being examined by scientists in a government building in a town nearby.

Data is absorbed by the news display. He is reading a page a second, and processing the information.

DATA – Doctor, this is more than just a news display. It is literally a guide to the planet. When I have finished storing these maps and descriptions, I will be able to effectively talk to the population as a native. This will enable us to …

Data stops talking as he is absorbed by what he is reading.

CRUSHER – Now what? Data?

Crusher allows Data to continue reading.

DATA – It is an article on Sarjenka.

CRUSHER – Has she been found? Is she hurt? What is it?

DATA – I am attempting to use the information in this news article, cross referenced with the maps that I have just loaded into memory, to determine her hiding place. We must leave.

CRUSHER – Where are we going? …Data?… Data?

The waiter bring the water stops and watches them leave. Shrugs his shoulders, and sips the water.

Scene: PLANET DREMA FOUR

Tavern where Picard and Kitsman are drinking with Dremans. Some time has passed and the two are more relaxed. The boy Keller is in the background, watching.

KRAIG – …So I asked him where he stood on the question of the miracle of the planet quakes, and he just stood there and looked at me like a two-legged goober.

The Dremans in the tavern erupt in laughter. When it quiets down again, the second Dreman, Benote, leans over and nudges Picard.

BENOTE – So where do you stand, Picard?

There is an awkward silence as Picard looks down at his drink.

BENOTE – And you, Kitsman? Are you a believer in the miracle?

Kitsman looks from Benote to Picard, but he cannot catch Picard’s eye. Then he speaks jovially, trying to lighten the situation.

KITSMAN – Are you going to call me a two-legged goober too?

KRAIG – Well? Are you a religious or a scientist?

PICARD – I am still undecided until I learn more about the situation and…

KRAIG – You lie. You have a stand. Now state it clearly for us, Dreman.

KITSMAN – Picard is right. We are trying to find out more about the miracle …

BENOTE – Find out more? Where were you when it happened, Dreman? On another planet?

KITSMAN – Did you see the hand that stopped the eruptions and the quakes?

BENOTE – My faith does not depend on my sight alone.

PICARD – Benote, Kraig, listen to me. We do not want trouble. We are here to listen and learn, not to argue or judge.

KRAIG – You are spies! (To the crowd in the tavern) They are spies sent from the governor!

The Dreman boy has been getting closer to the action and now sees his chance.

KELLER – They’re ALIENS!

The crowd in the tavern laughs. Picard and Kitsman begin to look sick.

KELLER – No, really. I saw their space ship. It landed in Wanderer’s field. There are five of them!

The people in the crowd begin to raise voices and react angrily, with shouts of “What do you want?” and “We have a right” and “Make them tell”.)

Scene: BRIDGE OF THE ENTERPRISE

Riker, Troi, Geordie, and Worf are listening to arguments.

RIKER – It’s starting to get pretty nasty. We may have to intervene.

WORF – Commander, I request permission to transport to the planet and “intervene”.

RIKER – Not just yet, Lieutenant. You may get your chance, though. (To the Ensign at Ops) Ensign, prepare to break out of hiding and enter a standard orbit. But wait for my signal. Geordie, prepare for warp speed. Transporter chief, prepare to locate and lock on to the away team. Mr. Worf, hail the shuttle craft.

WORF – Shuttle craft is receiving but not answering.

RIKER – Well, try again.

WORF – Hailing, sir.

ENSIGN FORD – (VOICEOVER, agitated, sounds of boys in the background) Shuttle, Ensign Ford here, sir.

RIKER – Ford, what is going on?

The scene switches to the shuttle and chaos as the Dreman boys are still romping around in the shuttle and Ford has a defeated look.

FORD – I have a problem here, sir. Some Dreman boys have discovered the shuttle and …

The scene shifts to the point of view of each speaker.

RIKER – (Glancing at Troi) Boys? Dreman BOYS?

Troi is amused but does not say anything.

FORD – Yes sir, like I said, some Dreman boys just came up and …

RIKER – How many boys?

FORD – Well, it seems like about ten or so, but … I guess there are four or five.

RIKER – And they are actually inside the shuttle?

FORD – Yes sir.

RIKER – Ensign, how did they get inside the shuttle?

FORD – Well, they slipped in when I opened the shuttle door to make them leave.

RIKER – Well open the door and let them out.

FORD – Yes sir. If you have any suggestions for how to do that, sir, I would sure appreciate it.

RIKER – Ensign Ford, I don’t have time for these games. We may have to transport the away team. I want to have them on board by the time the echo reaches the wall. And I want you off the planet two seconds later.

FORD – Acknowledged, sir. Ford out.

Ford closes the channel and remains standing, looking at the boys, feeling defeated.

 

FAITH

PART VII

by John Comeaux

Scene: TOWN OF TREETON

Data and Crusher are walking down a street in a more dilapidated part of town not seen before, and not fitting in with the rest of the town. There is an air of uneasiness. Not many other Dremans are around. There is graffiti on some of the buildings, and trash on the streets.

CRUSHER – Data, what makes you think that Sarjenka is here?

DATA – After scanning the news reports of the planet, and using the maps from the newspaper, I have eliminated all of the obvious places. And, having had experience with the Sherlock Holmes method of systematic investigation, I resolved the problem. This area was not considered because of its very nature. As you have noticed, Doctor, the population of this part of Treeton consists of tramps, hustlers, the poor, destitute, and homeless. The businesses are simply fronts for illicit activities, and the …

CRUSHER – I get the picture. I would like to spend as little time as possible here. Can we go now?

DATA – But we have not yet discovered Sarjenka’s hiding place.

CRUSHER – Data, it may not be a good idea to contact her. If she doesn’t actually remember you or the Enterprise, this would be a big mistake. If she does remember you, this would simply add fuel to the fire.

DATA – I have considered those possibilities. But she will not remember you, Doctor.

CRUSHER – Oh, no. No. Nope. Absolutely not. I will not under any circumstances be your guinea pig for this wild goose chase.

Scene: IN A DOORWAY

The scene shifts to Crusher knocking on a door, glancing at Data who is sitting on a bench reading a newspaper, a real paper one, watching surreptitiously. A large Dreman woman answers through a peep hole in the door.

DREMAN WOMAN – Yeah?

CRUSHER – Um, can you help me?

There is a pause, and Crusher considers running away. Eventually the door opens to reveal a dark interior, but no one beckons. Crusher timidly steps inside, and the door closes behind her. Data sees this and shows concern. The scene follows Crusher into the darkened room, where the woman starts up some stairs with some effort. Crusher follows her.

CRUSHER – Thank you for opening the door for me. I’m looking for …

DREMAN WOMAN – Up here.

Crusher follows without further comment. The two finally reach the top of the stairs and enter a small room with two chairs.

DREMAN WOMAN – (Indicating one of the chairs) Sit.

Crusher sits. She starts to say something to the Dreman woman, but the door closes and Crusher is alone. After a few frightening moments, the other door opens and a tall young Dreman man steps in, scrutinizes Crusher for a few moments, then steps out of the way, and Sarjenka walks in and sits in the other chair. The young man leaves. Crusher’s thoughts are heard for the audience.

CRUSHER – (Thinking) Sarjenka!

CRUSHER – How could you know?

SARJENKA – I’ve been waiting for you. I was so scared that the news service wasn’t going to send anyone out here to take my story. I’m so glad you finally got here. Aren’t you going to record this?

CRUSHER – Yes.

SARJENKA – Well, where is your recorder?

CRUSHER – You can relax. Talk as if you were just telling me, as a friend.

SARJENKA – I guess first I want to say thanks for the people helping me. I’m sorry if they seem a bit sleazy. They really are the dearest people for watching out for me. You can’t tell anyone where I am.

CRUSHER – No, no. I promise. No one will know.

SARJENKA – What everyone says is I’m the reason for the quakes, or I’m the reason they stopped, or I’m an angel, or a witch, or an alien. All of that is crazy. People give me weird looks at school, or on the street, like I’m some kind of freak. Do I look like a freak to you?

CRUSHER – No. But you look scared.

SARJENKA – I really don’t know what’s going on. That morning, as soon as my folks came back from the shelters, after the quakes stopped, they found me in my bed, with the singing stone. If it hadn’t been for that stupid rock, nothing would have happened. I don’t even know where the thing comes from. I don’t know how I got it in the first place, and I don’t know why everyone makes such a big fuss over the whole thing.

Sarjenka begins to cry and Crusher goes over to comfort her, with words such as “Take your time. It’s all right,” etc. Sarjenka resumes her composure, but Crusher has moved her chair closer.

SARJENKA- I’ve been here for five weeks, and I miss my Mom and Dad so much. If it weren’t for Senker, he’s the one you saw before. I just want everyone to let me go home. The scientists can keep the stupid singing stone. I just want to go home. This world is just so big, why can’t they pick on someone else. Um, I don’t even know your name.

CRUSHER – Beverly. There were reports that you built a transmitter.

SARJENKA – It was a science project. I got an “A”.

CRUSHER – What’s the transmitter for?

SARJENKA – To talk to the little green men on Drema Three.

CRUSHER – I’m not the enemy here.

SARJENKA – Oh, I’m sorry, Beverly. It was just a stupid idea.

CRUSHER – I’m not judging. You’ll still get an “A”.

SARJENKA – The original idea was to find out how far my transmitter would carry messages. At first I aimed them at the moon, and timed their return. Then I got carried away and wanted to know if there were others who could hear my transmissions. I thought for a while I had contacted someone … something, but now I realize that the planet’s crystal core was bending the signal so much, I was probably talking to another station on Drema Four. So much for little green men. Anyway, I was a lot younger then, and now I know how senseless it was. But it was a good exercise. I don’t think you should put that in the news. No, don’t even mention the transmitter. It would just mess everything up. (Jumps up) Oh, I’m sorry. This is terrible. I’ve got to go.

CRUSHER – It’s all right. It’s okay. I won’t mention this. I promise. I won’t tell a soul about the transmitter. Just stay a few more minutes please.

SARJENKA – Okay.

CRUSHER – Sarjenka, why don’t you tell people what you’ve told me.

SARJENKA – Because. You’d be scared too, if they are always talking about religious and scientist and one believes and one does not. And it never stops. Ever since I can remember.

CRUSHER – What? Even before the quakes.

SARJENKA – Didn’t you take history in school?

CRUSHER – It wasn’t my best subject.

SARJENKA – When has Drema Four ever been without the argument?

CRUSHER – So the different factions, religious and scientist, didn’t start with the quakes?

SARJENKA – Who are you? Senkar!

CRUSHER – I’m a friend, Sarjenka.

The door opens and Data steps in with Senkar holding his arm.

SENKAR – I found this one outside, Jen.

DATA – (To Crusher) I am glad to see you are well. I was … concerned.

 

FAITH

PART VIII

by John Comeaux

Scene: BRIDGE

Worf, Geordi, Riker, and Troi, and attending personnel.

RIKER – (voice over) “Captain’s log Star Date 12345. First officer reporting. The Captain and the Ambassador are being held for questioning by members of the religious faction. They do not seem to be in danger for now, but we do not know what course of action their detainers may take. Doctor Crusher and Second Officer Data have been discovered by the Dremans who are hiding the girl Sarjenka. We are not sure whether the Dremans suspect that Data and the Doctor are not from Drema Four. It now appears that I am limited in my response options.”

Static overpowers Riker’s voice, and Worf and Geordi press various buttons trying to stop the noise and determine the cause.

RIKER – Geordi, what’s happening to our communications?

GEORDI – The Selcundi sun has begun a cycle of high intensity radiation. The di-lithium deposits inside Drema Four are picking up the solar waves and intensifying them. I can’t re-establish contact with the away team or the shuttle unless we get out from behind the moon, or the solar flares die down.

RIKER – What about sending another shuttle?

GEORDI – The radiation would affect the navigation systems the same way. Out here behind the Dreman moon we are protected from a lot of it, but a lone shuttle may not even make it to Drema Four.

RIKER – So they’re trapped. Well, let’s un-trap them. Ensign, set a course to put us into standard orbit…

WORF – Commander, Starfleet is hailing us, priority channel.

RIKER – I’ll take it in the ready room. Ensign, hold our position, but be ready to move.

Riker exits to the Ready Room.

Scene: READY ROOM

Riker enters the Captain’s ready room and switches on the desktop com panel. Admiral Hayden appears on the screen.

ADMIRAL – Where’s Picard?

RIKER – Captain Picard is with the away team on the planet.

ADMIRAL – Well, patch him in, I want to find out what’s going on.

RIKER – I’m afraid that’s not possible, Admiral. Solar activity has just drowned out our communications. I was just getting ready to send a reconnaissance team down to determine their status.

ADMIRAL – Commander, by no authority are you to enter an orbit or otherwise interfere with these people. Besides the violations of the Prime Directive, we have the Ferengi to worry about.

RIKER – Sir?

ADMIRAL – They’ve heard about our contact with the Dremans, and are protesting our quarantine of the sector. They are claiming we have kept the Dremans to ourselves for profiteering.

RIKER – With all due respect, Admiral, I hardly think the Ferengi are a threat here…

ADMIRAL – Riker, this is turning into an intergalactic incident of the highest order. Picard has one chance to get things back on track there, or he’s history. Hayden out.

The admiral’s image is replaced by the Star Fleet emblem on the com panel. Riker shuts off the panel and shows his concern.

Scene: BASEMENT ROOM, PICARD AND KITSMAN

Picard and Kitsman are being held in a basement of a house. There is a bunk and a chair, and a single door in the room. Kitsman is trying to open the door.

PICARD – It is still locked.

KITSMAN – I can still try, damn it all.

Kicks the door. Then tries the wrist communicator.

KITSMAN – Kitsman to Enterprise.

PICARD – I hope their law allows us the counsel of an attorney.

KITSMAN – If you had issued phasers, we wouldn’t need an attorney.

PICARD – If you had used a phaser, then our First Contact would have made quite an impression, wouldn’t it?

Their argument is interrupted by the door being unlocked. A Dreman walks in, checks the room and the two prisoners, and leaves. Then Gembel, a Dreman woman “priest”, robed and embellished with religious jewelry, enters.

GEMBEL – My children, Please, follow me upstairs.

Scene: The three exit up a stairway and into a ground floor room.

There are two other “priests” in the room. One is an ancient looking man called Rittin. The priests sit behind a table, and Picard and Kitsman sit in the chairs in front.

GEMBEL – I am Combi Gembel. This is Combi Rittin and Combi Ricoh. We now realize that you are not from our family, and that our laws and customs may not apply to you, or your family. Therefore we will be extraordinarily lenient in our judgment. The trial will now begin. Will you swear to speak the truth?

PICARD – Combi Gembel, among my people, my family, to speak the truth is our way.

GEMBEL – Then you are a true kindred brother. You are accused of many things, Picard and Kitsman. Insubordination. Inciting to riot. Trespassing. Vagrancy. Suspicious activity. Espionage. And one allegation of being an alien. We have confirmed that you are not spies from the governor. At least, not in this district. And, you are obviously not the little green men from Drema Three, unless, of course, this place “Earth” you say you are from is located on Drema Three. The other charges are less serious, and the Assembly can be quite forgiving with a cooperative defendant. Therefore, tell us now, your stand on the miracle of the quakes.

PICARD – My family has another custom: not to judge or condemn a person for his belief, because for us, each person has a right to his belief. The denial of that right is a serious crime. You have asked if we are religious or scientist. My reply is this: a religion that is intolerant is the same as a science that is intolerant. They are both dictatorships, unworthy of answer.

GEMBEL – But there is no third option. You must state your beliefs.

RICOH – For all of time, for all our recorded history, Dremans have taken their stand.

KITSMAN – NO!

GEMBEL – How can you deny your own past? Does not every Dreman know of this fundamental truth?

PICARD – This fundamental truth — that Dremans have always stated their beliefs when challenged — is unyielding?

GEMBEL – Of course! How can you not know?

RITTIN – It has been more than 100 years.

GEMBEL – Combi Rittin.

RITTIN – I was a boy when my father stood before the Combi Assembly. It was more than 100 years ago. He spoke of the same rights as this visitor. Rights of belief. Rights of speech. Have we forgotten that these are also fundamental?

PICARD – Yes, it makes sense now. You have caused this whole predicament yourselves. I’d call it stubbornness if it weren’t so harmful.

GEMBEL – What harm has come to you?

PICARD – We have learned the consequences of being suspect. The treatment we have had here would be considered among my people an act of aggression, unprovoked and violent.

GEMBEL – Aggression! None was intended. No harm could come to you. Perhaps you are indeed from a distant land. Our culture, our family, has no such primitive thoughts.

KITSMAN – What do you mean? You are keeping us here against our will.

GEMBEL – But this is to protect you.

KITSMAN – Thank you for your protection. We would like to leave now.

GEMBEL – I wish that it could be so simple.

Gembel, Rittin, and Ricoh exchange glances and nod.

GEMBEL – Picard and Kitsman, you are found wanting in your testimony. The Combi Assembly finds you guilty of lying about your origins and concealing information on your intentions. You are to appear in a public trial on the fourteenth day of this month, at which time you will be sentenced.

Gembel removes a stole from her garments and places it on the table. The door opens and four police officers enter. The officers are wearing weapons, but they do not draw them. Picard and Kitsman exchange glances and are led away. Outside, Keller is still watching, observing Picard and Kitsman being taken prisoner.

 

 

 

 

 

FAITH

PART IX

by John Comeaux

Scene: DREMA FOUR

Crusher, Data, Sarjenka, Senkar and the woman are in a room next to the previous one. The woman is almost unnoticed in the background.

SARJENKA – Who are you?

DATA – I am Data.

SENKAR – What do you want? How did you find us?

CRUSHER – We want to make sure you are all right. I’m a doctor, and I’ve followed the news about you and your brother in hiding.

SENKAR – More lies. You are government spies.

SARJENKA – (looking intently at Data) I believe them.

SENKAR – They still haven’t said how they found you.

DATA – The news service gave details on the locations of your residence, your school, your friends, and your relatives. I determined from these an estimated geographical center around which to begin a building-by-building elimination of probability…

CRUSHER – Never mind, Data. Sarjenka, we’ve found you, we’re sure you are well, so now we’re going to leave you in peace.

SENKAR – Do you think we can just let you leave?

CRUSHER – No one will know we’ve been here. I promise.

SARJENKA – Now I’m glad you weren’t from the news service. I don’t think I wanted my story to come out just that way. I feel like an idiot.

CRUSHER – You’re not. You’re a very bright girl. And I hope, when the time is right, you’ll think about what I said. If you come out in the open, I think that people will listen. Talk to them, Sarjenka.

SARJENKA – I want to let them go.

Senkar begins to protest, but backs down and capitulates.

DREMAN WOMAN – NO!

SARJENKA – What is it?

DREMAN WOMAN – This way.

The woman turns and opens a door to a basement stairway. Crusher and Data exchange looks, and Data follows the woman, with Crusher behind. After some pitch black stairs, another door opens, and Data and Crusher exit at dusk. The door closes, and they make a cautious exit.

Scene: TOWN OF TREETON, DUSK

Crusher and Data are making their way to the better part of town. From the shadows, a figure is watching. Crusher and Data sense that they are being followed, and are moving cautiously. Suddenly, Keller jumps down from a low roof and stands in front of them, poised to flee but also ready to confront them. Crusher and Data are startled, but recover.

CRUSHER – Whoa, you startled us. Now run along, please.

KELLER – I know who you are.

DATA – We also know that information.

KELLER – You’re aliens! I saw you. You came in a space ship. I know everything.

CRUSHER – Yes, we’re aliens. Now go play, young man.

KELLER – I know more. I know where the other two are.

CRUSHER – The other two?

KELLER – Picard and the other one.

CRUSHER – Where are they?

KELLER – They’re in security.

DATA – Doctor, if this boy is being truthful, we must investigate.

KELLER – Come on!

Scene: OUTSIDE SECURITY BUILDING, NIGHT

Crusher and Data are following Keller. They come to an alley behind Security.

KELLER – They’re in there.

CRUSHER – We can’t just walk in and get them, can we?

KELLER – No. They’re guarded.

CRUSHER – How many guards are in there?

KELLER – I don’t know.

DATA – Do you have a plan, Doctor?

CRUSHER – It depends. What’s your name?

KELLER – Keller.

CRUSHER – Keller, do you want to help us?

KELLER – Sure!

CRUSHER – Good. Because we need your help. I’m going to trust you to do your part.

Scene: SECURITY LOBBY

Scene switches to interior of Security lobby. Two guards are present, one watching a TV, one filling out forms. Crusher and Keller enter.

KELLER – Mom! Mom! Look! They’re here! We’re saved!

CRUSHER – Can you help us? We have no way of getting home.

KELLER – Our motor broke down, and we’ve been walking forever.

Guards look at each other. The one filling out forms gets another form. He looks bored.

GUARD – Name.

CRUSHER – Beverly Crusher.

GUARD – And yours.

CRUSHER – He’s my son.

GUARD – I still need his name, lady.

CRUSHER – Wesley Crusher.

GUARD – You have the same last name?

CRUSHER – Yes. It was my idea.

GUARD – Address.

CRUSHER – Wesley, tell the officer where we live. I’m so proud of him. He knows his address, his ID number, and his conn number.

GUARD – His conn number?

KELLER – 2424 Selcundi West. That’s in the Marion district.

GUARD – I know where it is. Look, it’s not that far. Why don’t you walk?

CRUSHER – At night? Alone? In this part of town?

GUARD – Minsky, take these two home.

MINSKY – Come on.

Keller and Crusher follow him out to the car. Minsky sits in the driver’s seat while Keller and Crusher stand outside. He looks up at them and frowns.

MINSKY – Well, get in. What are you waiting …

Data pops up from the back seat and puts a grip on his neck.

DATA – Please do not move.

The guard doesn’t move. Crusher comes around to the driver’s seat and takes the weapon and car “key” from the guard. She holds the weapon on him.

Scene: Security Lobby

Minsky enters followed by Crusher holding the weapon. Data comes in next, and then Keller.

GUARD – What’s this?

DATA – Please put your hands behind your head, and do not make any sudden moves. You stand over there with him.

Guards comply, and Data takes Guard’s weapon. Keller starts looking in the drawer at all the keys, and takes a handful. He then exits to the cell area.

DATA – Doctor, I suggest you hold these two while I attempt the jail break.

Exits after Keller. The guards look at each other, then the first Guard speaks to Minsky.

GUARD – Say, you aren’t going to let her get away with this, are you?

Crusher turns the weapon to the chair and fires. The chair is knocked down.

MINSKY – I’m not going to stop her.

Scene: SECURITY CELL AREA.

Data enters the cell area, and Picard and Kitsman are helping Keller try every “key” on the lock.

PICARD – Mr. Data! Am I glad to see you.

DATA – Yes sir. Dr. Crusher is holding the guards while I bust you out. This lock will need two keys, placed vertically in an exact orientation.

Data examines the keys, and picks up two, places them on the lock, and the door opens. All four return to the Lobby.

PICARD – You’re quite good at busting people out of jail, Mr. Data. Doctor, all clear? Let’s go.

CRUSHER – Okay, you two. In the back. Let’s go. Move it.

MINSKY – Whatever you say, lady. Just be careful with that thing.

Guard, Minsky, and Crusher walk into cell area. Guards enter the cell, Crusher closes the door and kicks the keys away. She re-enters the lobby, leaves the weapon on the desk, and exits.

Scene: OUTSIDE OF SECURITY, NIGHT

Scene switches to car. Kitsman is in back. Data is in driver’s seat, and Picard is also in front. There is a partition between front and back, but sound can pass. Keller is starting to get in and Crusher approaches.

DATA – I am sorry, but you cannot come with us.

KELLER – But why? I helped you. I wanna go with you.

PICARD – You can’t.

KELLER – But I wanna go to outer space with you.

CRUSHER – Look, Keller, you’ve helped us get out of this, and I really appreciate it. But we don’t belong here, you do. The best thing would be for you to forget you ever saw us.

PICARD – Doctor, if you would, please.

Crusher gets into the back seat. Keller watches as Data puts the key into the ignition, and the car lights up, but doesn’t move. Data and Picard look for the controls, but without success. Keller walks around to driver’s side and laughs.

KELLER – Don’t need me, huh?

DATA – The forward controls are not apparent.

KELLER – I’ll show you if you take me with you.

Data and Picard exchange glances.

Scene: WILD RIDE IN CAR, NIGHT.

Scene switches to a wild ride in the car as Keller shouts instructions and Data tries to follow. Sounds of near accidents and horns honking.

KELLER – Use your right foot to slow down. Now put the blinker thing on. No, the other one, it’s green. Now turn while you press the other thing. Press the glower thing, the orange one.

The car stabilizes, and Data is in control.

PICARD – Mr. Data, stop here.

KELLER – What’d you stop here for? Wanderer’s Field is another two krelongs.

PICARD – We promised to take you with us, so here you are. This is the tavern where we first saw you. I think you can get home from here.

KELLER – But you promised. I wanna go. I’m gonna tell!

Scene: SHUTTLE EXTERIOR, NIGHT.

Crusher, Picard, Data and Kitsman are walking up to the shuttle. They stand at the entrance to the shuttle but nothing happens.

PICARD – Ensign Ford seems to be occupied. Mr. Data …

Data presses a panel and opens the shuttle door. The team enters and sees Ford immobile with a stunned look sitting upright in the co-pilot seat. Crusher begins to examine him, passing a medical scanner over him.

PICARD – Well …

CRUSHER – He’s in shock, otherwise, he’s not hurt.

PICARD – Then we’ll attend to him on the Enterprise. Kitsman, if you will lend a hand, I will pilot.

Picard immediately sits, powers up and readies the shuttle for take off. Meanwhile, Data is in the back at the escape transporter pad, pressing several buttons. He takes a stone and places it on the pad, presses a panel, and the stone is transported off the pad. After a second, the stone seems to re-appear. Now Crusher approaches Data. She seems about to ask him about the stone, when Picard interrupts.

PICARD – Mr. Data, co-pilot please.

Data puts the stone into Crusher’s hand, and takes his seat. The stone begins singing to Crusher’s wonderment. She lowers herself in to her seat, eyes fixed on the singing stone.

CRUSHER – The singing stone.

Scene: TAVERN PORCH, NIGHT

Scene switches to the tavern porch, looking out over Wanderer’s Field. The shuttle rises in a glow from behind the trees and takes off. Camera moves to the Security car, where Keller is locked inside. He is watching the shuttle take off, and is hitting the window with his fist. The car “key” is clearly visible on the car hood.

KELLER – But I wanted to go. I want to go with you.

Scene: EXTERIOR SPACE, SHUTTLE IN ORBIT

Inside the shuttle. Music and shaking suggest trouble.

KITSMAN – Picard, do you know what you’re doing? You’re worse than Data.

PICARD – What is causing this, Mr. Data?

DATA – There are high level fluctuations in the entire EMR band. Our navigation systems are not functioning.

PICARD – Picard to Enterprise. Enterprise come in. (To Data) Boost the signal. Picard to Enterprise. Enterprise, do you read?

VOICE OF RIKER – Riker here. Captain are you all right?

PICARD – Yes, Number One. However, your help would be appreciated. We’re trying to make orbit, but our nav systems are out.

Scene switches to the Bridge of the Enterprise.

RIKER – That’s the solar activity. We’ll bring you in sir. Riker out. Ensign, take us in. Geordi, lock on a tractor beam. Sick bay, prepare to receive the away team. Mr. Worf, you have the conn.

Riker turns and walks toward the turbo lift.

FAITH

PART X

by John Comeaux

Scene: SICK BAY

Troi, Picard, Data, Worf Crusher, Kitsman, Sennard and attending personnel. Sennard is scanning Kitsman. All of the away team is back in uniform.

PICARD – Apparently, the instability of the planet is related to the instability of the people there. But the difference is, the people are just incredibly partisaned. No one can straddle the fence. They demanded to know whether we believed in the miraculous intervention by God or rescue of some higher intelligence. Their beliefs and drives are all focused on conflict.

CRUSHER – But conflict that leads to civil war? Those people don’t even have contact sports, as far as we can tell.

DATA – Doctor Crusher is correct. Even the security weapons are stun force at maximum. Although they certainly have the ability to develop and use more powerful weapons, to do so and thereby harm another person is unthinkable. Our culture would seem impossibly violent to them.

KITSMAN – These people argue for a living, for Pete’s sake. The Klingons naturally interpreted these impassioned fools to be at the brink of war. They’re going to forget all about us when the next catastrophe comes along.

TROI – I would hardly call them fools, Ambassador. What is foolish about an entire people without war, without violence, without hatred…

KITSMAN – Oh, yes, just lovely. It would be heaven. (Looking at Sennard) Oops, sorry about that, Doc.

SENNARD – No apology needed. How about having lunch with me in Ten Forward? We never finished our discussion of science and religion.

KITSMAN – Uh, um … Er …

He is interrupted by a communicator beep. Riker’s voice is heard

RIKER – (V/O) Captain, the USS Magnificat is approaching to transport the Ambassador.

PICARD – Acknowledged. (to Kitsman) Saved by the bell?

KITSMAN – Sorry, Doc. I don’t want to be late for my choir practice.

CRUSHER – Ooh, wait.

She leaves then returns with the singing stone, and puts it in Kitsman’s hand. The sound it makes changes

KITSMAN – The singing stone! You’ve recovered it. Well, it’s a good thing you recovered it. Leaving this stone with those people would have continued to plague them for decades to come, and Starfleet Headquarters would have had to send another vessel and put the lives of another crew at risk down on that dreadful planet…

PICARD – Well, yes, thank you Doctor, and thank you, Ambassador, and Mr. Worf if you will escort the Ambassador to transporter room Three, and make sure he is safely aboard the Magnificat. And please, Ambassador, consider the singing stone a farewell gift from all of us to you and good-bye.

As soon as Picard mentions Worf, Worf begins moving closer to Kitsman, who begins backing off toward the door while Picard finishes his speech. The door closes just as Picard says “Good-bye.”

PICARD – Nice work, everyone. (Exits)

Scene: BRIDGE

Scene follows Picard to the Bridge. As he steps out of the turbolift, Geordi and Riker notice him.

RIKER – Welcome back, Captain.

GEORDI – Captain, our geologic survey team has done a lot of looking on this visit to Drema Four. This planet is more of a mystery than ever.

PICARD – Explain.

GEORDI – The planet’s dilithium core is stable for now, like I said earlier. But how could it last this long? How could the planet form with this high concentration of crystal, and an atmosphere form and stabilize, and life evolve over millions of years, when I can’t tell you if tomorrow the core is going to start self-destructing all over again? This planet should be an asteroid belt like Drema Five.

RIKER – These people are living on borrowed time.

PICARD – This complicates matters for the future. If we saved them once, do we save them again?

GEORDI – Do we plan for First Contact after all?

RIKER – If they join the Federation of Planets, are we then bound to hold their planet together forever?

PICARD – These are matters for Starfleet to decide.

Turbolift doors open and Worf steps onto the bridge.

PICARD – Speaking of which, I trust the Ambassador is safely in transport.

WORF – The Ambassador has boarded, and the Magnificat is on her way. With the luggage.

PICARD – Never have I seen such an insecure person.

RIKER – How is Ensign Ford down in sick bay?

PICARD – He’s out of shock, and resting. I neglected to ask what caused him to go into shock.

Riker reacts with a smile that catches Picard’s eye.

PICARD – Number One, you were monitoring Ford. Do you know what caused this reaction? Well?

RIKER – It’s a long story, Captain.

Scene: DR. CRUSHER’S QUARTERS

Crusher plops down in a chair in her room, dressed in nightgown, just about ready for bed. She toys absently with the table viewscreen a moment, and decides to read the mail. She calls up her mail, and notices a letter from Wesley. She perks up and calls up the letter. Wesley’s image appears on the screen.

WESLEY – (On Video) Mom, it’s finished. I wanted you to be the first. You and Captain Picard.

The viewscreen shows the Starfleet Academy emblem, and then Wesley’s formal paper begins.

Scene: PICARD’S QUARTERS

Picard is seen also reading his mail. The same screen is showing on his viewscreen.

WESLEY – (On Video) This paper is entitled “Time, Space, and Thought”, Stardate 12360. I will attempt to demonstrate that these three apparently unrelated abstracts are not the separate things we think of, but are linked by mathematical relationships.

Prior to the Twentieth Century on Earth, nothing was known of quantum physics or the space/time relationship called Relativity. Albert Einstein at that time proposed the equation “Energy equals mass times the square of the speed of light” to quantify the relationship between energy and matter. Time was also included in the equation, and time dilation was proven as early as the mid-Twentieth century. But the concept that thoughts, human or otherwise, could affect such uncontrollable abstracts as time or space was left to the realm of metaphysics, quacks, and astrologers.

Based on my experiences with a life form known as “The Traveler”, and on working with warp field generation on the Starship Enterprise, I have concluded that the element of thought can and does affect the time and space around us, and this effect is felt most strongly in conjunction with warp fields…

THE END

 

 

About the author: John Comeaux, a member of the Fearless, is an amateur writer. He wrote this Star Trek: The Next Generation episode in 1991 in hopes of being part of the Star Trek “canon.” His agent liked the episode and sent it to Paramount Studios, where it was read by Eric Stilwell, script coordinator. Although the script was not accepted, John was encouraged, and continues to write, most recently a family movie called “The Troll Movie” which is being reviewed by Disney and others. John is an engineer at Chevron in Lafayette, and is married and has three grown children. His other interests are music, computers, and stamp collecting.

 

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Star Trek : 26th Year

Children of the U.S.S. Voyager’s Crew, 26 years after the ship’s return to Earth

 

Commander Naomi Wildman (31):

Captaincy being considered by Starfleet. Married to Icheb, with one child, Sabrina Wildman.

 

Miral Paris (26):

 Daughter of Tom Paris and B’Elanna Torres. Starfleet ensign. Also considered a prophet, by a small sect of Klingons in the Delta Quadrant.

 

Danroth “Dan” Paris (22):

Son of Tom Paris and B’Elanna Torres. Academy drop-out. Expert in human and Klingon martial arts.

 

Jason O’Malley-Janeway: (24):

 Son of Admiral Kathryn Janeway and Donnell O’Malley (owner of O’Malley’s Café on Earth). Engaged, but already expecting a child.

 

Oliver O’Malley-Janeway (23):

Son of Admiral Janeway and Donnell O’Malley. Attempting to get into Starfleet Academy.

 

Lakita Hansen (23):

 Daughter of Annika “Seven of Nine” Hansen and Chakotay. Environmental scientist.

 

Kale Kim (22):

Son of Harry Kim and Libby Webber. Starving artist.

 

Sek, Stekev, Tosev, and Asil: (no age)

 Children of Tuvok and T’Pel.

 

Prologue

 

Torpedoes tore through space, ripping through the hulls of the Talaxian fighters. The triangular ships maneuvered around most of the blasts, but their pursuers had them grossly outnumbered. It was almost impossible to do any damage back. The Talaxian ships were blackened from weeks of battle, both inside and out. But from the windows of the fleeing ship in the back of the group, the long Krenim warships looked as in-tact as ever, glowing green with Borg technology. Another blast from the Krenim ships sent up white smoke that filled the bridge.

 

A young Ocompan at the helm coughed, then shouted over the screaming alarms, “Our shields are almost gone Sir!” Talaxians, Ocompans, and Vidians ran to different stations on the bridge, helping the injured or replacing the dead at their stations.”Keep firing!” The Talaxian captain yelled from the back of the bridge, where he had taken over at one of the stations.”It’s no good!” the Talaxian at the weapons station shouted. “We’re not even putting a dent in their shields, we’re just wasting power.””Fine, then help Florrah get us out of here” The younger Talaxian leaped over his console as if jumping a fence.”We need a miracle.” He muttered, taking his seat next to Florrah.”No,” the red-haired Ocompa snapped. Another blast rocked the ship.”Sheilds are almost down!” A Vidian in the back of the bridge yelled.”So use those telepathic powers of yours,”

 

They spoke paying only half attention to the conversation, as usual. The last few weeks had called for more multitasking than most onboard had ever done in one month.”Have been.” Florrah replied, not taking her eyes off of the chaos on the view screen, as they struggled to avoid the green blasts from the Krenim ships. “But I don’t know if anyone’s been getting the message.”You’re not talking about that Captain from the Whatever Quad” He fell backwards in his seat, as Florrah sharply brought the ship up. One of the four new blasts grazed the underside of the ship.”Captain Janeway, yes.” Florrah answered, taking the ship into a summersault. “Humans live as long as you people do. She might still be alive.”

 

One more hit from the Krenim shook the entire bridge. Several crewmembers went flying, including Florrah and her co-pilot. She regained consciousness a moment or so later. Florrah couldn’t see anything except white, but felt blood running down the side of her face. The smoke quickly cleared enough for her to see small flames crackling in various parts of the bridge. The captain was nowhere in sight. Her co-pilot lay motionless next to her, with his eyes half-opened. Only seconds after her mind registered what had happened, Florrah heard the Vidian in the back shout something that made her realize her friend was the lucky one.”We’re being boarded!”

 

Spots of green light shimmered in several areas of the ship, where the Krenim soldiers were beaming aboard. Or rather, Krenim drones.Phaser fire exploded everywhere, as the remainder of the crew fought futilely to protect the civilians in the decks below. Florrah continued to lie where she was. The drones stepped over her or in one case, on her arm preying first on those they knew for sure were alive. Through her half-closed eyes she saw a medley of Delta Quadrant species Kazon, Talaxian, Hirogen, all pale and covered with Borg implants, all under the control of the Krenim. She had given up on protecting her friends on the bridge; on protecting her young brother below in the cargo bay, and the rest of the civilians with him. But she was far from giving up on saving the rest of the quadrant.

 

Mustering all of her mental strength, Florrah focused on one last message, one face. The images she’d seen of the legendary Captain Janeway, the brown-haired human woman in the red and black uniform. Captain Janeway help! The Krenim have the Borg, they’re slaughtering millions There were fewer phaser blasts, more screams. Children are dying, please help us! Send us help! A Hirogen drone scanned her co-pilot’s body, and then moved on to her. Everything she saw was suddenly tinted green, for a few moments. It’s the Ocompa, the people you tried to save when you first got lost here! We need Her concentration broke momentarily, as she was yanked off the floor by her long red hair. Janeway Two bursts of pain exploded in the side of her neck. Florrah screamed as they pierced deeper and harder, Borg nanoprobes flooding her body. More pain, as something cold erupted on her right cheek. Seventy-thousand light-years away, a white-haired Admiral Janeway woke with a start.

 

Chapter One : The Reunion

 

The desktop monitor beeped. Janeway took a long sip of coffee as she sat down to take the call. A woman appeared on the screen, with short gray hair and spots running down the sides of her face and neck. She smiled. “Good afternoon Admiral.” “Good afternoon Captain.” Janeway replied. “So, what’s the story?” The captain of Deep Space Nine folded her hands on her desk. “Starfleet has reached a decision about your request. First, what we know. The doctors and telepaths you’ve spoken to have confirmed that what you’ve been experiencing has definitely been telepathic communication. And sources suggest that there is a war in the Delta Quadrant, involving the Krenim and Borg technology.” “A war, or a one-sided massacre?” Captain Ezri Dax sighed. “Good question.” Dax paused. “Starfleet will not risk the safety of the Quadrant by getting involved in a war that doesn’t concern us. We know lives are at stake, but so are a lot of lives at home.” Janeway was silent. It was true—Starfleet was already working to save the dying star in the Andorian system. Not to mention all the help Bajor still needed in rebuilding itself, and Starfleet’s failing relations with the Dominion in the Gamma Quadrant. “I understand.” “However,” Janeway raised her head a bit, as Dax continued. “We have found a loophole in Starfleet’s regulations. If a situation is, as you said, a one-sided massacre, then Starfleet may sponsor a trip to deliver things like food, medical supplies, and defenses.” Trying to contain her pleasure, Janeway asked, “How many…what exactly can Starfleet spare?” “We want to start small Admiral. We can give you a ship, equipped with our latest defenses against Borg technology. You can bring replicators programmed to provide food, medical supplies, and shielding. When you return from the first trip, and we have more information on what exactly is going on, then we’ll probably be able to send in more help, and send them some weapons to defend themselves. But we have to be sure it’s not some trick, or that there isn’t secretly another side to this story.”

 

“I see. When will I be able to leave?” “The ship will be waiting for you on Deep Space Nine, by next Friday. It can accommodate up to five people.” Dax grinned again, genuinely this time, as her animated self. “Good luck Admiral. And…” she shrugged, “…thank you for doing this.” “Thank you Captain.” They said their goodbyes, and the screen went black. Janeway leaned back and breathed out a long sigh. From behind her, someone else let out a second one. Janeway looked up at her husband. “Hello.” “Katie,” Donnell O’Malley’s voice was filled with concern, in addition to his usual Irish accent. She waved her coffee mug before taking another sip. “You’re not talking me out of it.” “I know. I’m just telling you to be careful, as always.” “I’ll have the best doctor in Starfleet with me, and the best expert on the Borg in the galaxy. I should be fine.” She stood up. “Speaking of the Doctor, he’ll be bringing Lakita over early, to help us set things up for the reunion.”

 

Donnell frowned. “Just Lakita?” “I’m afraid so. Her mother’s in no mood to socialize.” Janeway shook her head. “While we’re on this mission, I’m having another talk with Seven. She is taking this too far.” “You can’t overreact to a spouse dying,” Donnell said sympathetically. “From what you’ve told me, you were just as bad when you lost your father and your…” “…my first fiancé. But it’s been two years Donnell. Chakotay would want Seven to move on with her life, and besides, she has a daughter to take care of. Poor Lakita’s basically been taking care of herself for the last two years—”

 

The door chimed. They both moved to answer it. Three people stood on the porch, in front of the Irish countryside. One was the Doctor, looking just as he did when he was first activated, except for the suit he now wore. With him, a young woman who had Chakotay’s jet-black hair and small dark eyes, but otherwise was a spitting image of Seven of Nine. Lakita Hansen’s body was swimming with Borg nanoprobes she’d inherited form her mother, but she had no external implants to show for it, save one spidery Borg wheel on the bottom of her left cheek. Behind both of them crouched an ancient Ferangi.

 

Janeway and Lakita hugged. “Hi Aunt Kathy!” The girl’s low soft voice was enthusiastic. Of course Janeway wasn’t a blood relative; she had grown up calling Janeway “aunt” due to the admiral’s close friendship with both of her parents. “Lakita?” Janeways’s youngest son, Oliver, came flying down the stairs to greet his friend. The boy was like his mother-short, with thick brown hair, and a bad caffeine addiction—but had his father’s accent, a fact Lakita never let him forget. The Doctor asked Janeway quietly, “Any news about…?” “In a few minutes.” Janeway peered over the Doctor’s shoulder to address the Ferangi. “I assume you’ll need some help setting up the bar?” “It’d be appreciated. Just tell me where you’d like it.” “In the back yard. Oliver, Lakita, why don’t you go help him.” She muttered, “I hope the weather stays this way. I don’t want to try fitting two-hundred guests in this house!” Oliver was talking to Lakita. “Maybe we’ll get a free pint or something for helping,” he mused. “Did you just say ‘peint’?” Lakita snickered. “Oh shut up!” Donnell waited, holding his smile politely until Oliver, Lakita, and the Ferangi were outside, before leaning over and whispering to his wife, “What is that crook doing here?” “Quark helped me in a pinch last year. So in return, I’m letting him help us liven up the mood at the reunion.”

 

“Well fine. But you’d best have someone watching him so he doesn’t try selling the wrong things to any underage guests.” Voyager soared over the Golden Gate Bridge, weaving through the exploding fireworks. A few of the guests were gathered around the screen, watching the broadcast. A man’s voice came on, over the image. “It’s been 26 years since the U.S.S. Voyager made its return to the Alpha Quadrant. The journey should have taken them 70 years, but Kathryn Janeway got it done in seven.” The man paused, looking thoughtful. The view had cut now to the speaker, standing on a small stage. “I guess it’s a lucky thing the one ship in Starfleet that wound up lost in space had a female captain. Macho Captain Kirk probably would’ve refused to pull over and ask for directions. They’d still be stuck out there…” The guests watching the display laughed at the comedian. “Too true,” B’Elanna Torres said, eyeing her husband. “Hey!” Tom elbowed her. “I’m going to get a drink. You want anything?” “Sure, bring me a club soda.”

 

Tom exited the living room through the back door. The sun was starting to set, and most of the guests were socializing in the enormous back yard. Quark had his bar stand set up close to the house. Tom could see his daughter sitting at the small bar, with Lakita Hansen. The girls were discussing something over their drinks, having some kind of a heated argument. Miral Paris took a sip of her blood-wine. “If these were Tarcillian beetles we were talking about no one would care. It’s just the cute animals everyone wants to save.” Lakita held up a finger. “They are an important link in that planet’s food-chain! If one species dies out the whole eco-system collapses.” “The eco-system does not need tribbles!” “Hey there,” Tom waved to the two girls, and took a seat next to Miral. “Can I get you anything?” Quark asked, taking a swig himself from a glass. Tom raised his eyebrows. “Weeell, long time no see.”

 

The aging Ferangi frowned. “Have we met?” Miral bit back a giggle. Lakita seemed confused. “Remember when Voyager was first taking off from D.S. Nine?” Tom kept his tone conversational. “You tried to swindle my friend Harry Kim into buying a tray of pebbles.” Quark’s eyes shifted, as the memory came back to him, and as he tried frantically to find a safe way to change the subject. “… Ensign Kim and Lt. Paris, yeah. I uh, didn’t recognize you at first.” He squinted at Tom. “You lost a lot of hair.” Both women were now fighting back laughter. Tom made a face, but then nodded. “Touché.” He ordered his and B’Elanna’s drinks. He was just standing up when a young man with dark curly hair came jogging up towards them. “Kale!” said Tom. “Where’s your dad?” “By the tables, there,” Kale Kim pointed to where Harry stood with his wife Libby, talking with Tuvok, his wife, and four or five other former shipmates. “Anyone see Dan?” “I don’t know. Miral, where’s your brother?” “Good question. You’d think he’d want to spend all night right here.” Lakita spun around on her stool, scanning the yard. “He’s by the woods. Having a bat’leh battle with some of the kids.”

 

“Someone let Dan around children?” Miral said mockingly. “Better get him away before he teaches them some new words.” Tom shrugged. “Even if he does, their parents won’t know what they’re saying unless they speak Klingon.” “Thanks.” Kale took off across the yard, almost knocking into Janeway and Naomi Wildman. “Oh excuse me,” Janeway turned to Naomi. “You were saying?” The two continued to walk as the younger woman spoke. “I’m being considered for a captaincy. But I won’t take any missions that are too far from home, not until Sabrina’s older. Now wasn’t Jason going into the academy too?” “Oh, not anymore.” Janeway glanced at her oldest son, a tall dark-haired man, standing by the refreshments table with his pregnant fiancée. The couple was speaking with Naomi’s husband, Icheb. “Jason’s a very all-or-nothing young man. He won’t divide his time between a Sylvia and the baby and a career in Starfleet. Oliver’s been trying to get in, but…he barely made it through basic school, he’s never done well under pressure…” Naomi shrugged. “If it’s what he truly wants then he’ll succeed eventually. He might just need more help.” “There won’t be extra help in the real world Naomi. I just don’t know if Oliver has what it takes to be in Starfleet.” By the woods, Kale Kim quickly found his friend. Dan Paris and a little girl were having a Klingon bat’leh fight, using sticks. “Dan?” “Oh hey Kaaarrrgh!”

 

The girl, Sabrina Wildman, leaned on her stick giggling while Dan Paris enacted an elaborate death scene. Kale laughed politely. “Okay Dan, can I talk to you for a minute?” Dan gasped, “Make it quick, I haven’t got long.” He spun into a fall, flopping face-first onto the grass. Kale rolled his eyes. He knelt down. “Dan,” Dan answered in a voice muffled by the grass and shoulder-length hair that had fallen around his face. “I’m dead. Tell it to me in Sto-vo-kor.” “DAN!” “What?” Dan pushed himself up, shaking his dirty-blond hair out of his face. There was a ringing sound, someone clinking a spoon against a glass. “Everyone, if I might have your attention for a moment,” It was Reg Barclay who spoke. He stood behind one of the picnic tables, in front of the house. Dan brushed himself off. “Toast time! We gotta get some drinks.” Kale sighed, and followed his childhood friend to Quark’s refreshment stand.

 

Barclay lifted his glass. “Twenty-six years ago, this crew returned from what has got to be one of the longest away missions in Starfleet history,” Those already gathered around him laughed politely. “I remember the day the ship finally returned home…” Miral, Lakita, and now Oliver were still at the bar, talking with Quark .”I’m not named after anyone, me mum just liked the name because of ‘Oliver Twist’.” “Lakita’s an interesting name too.” Quark said drying a mug. “Does that name mean anything?” “Mmm-hmm.” She put her glass down. “It’s from my father’s language—” Dan Paris’ voice broke in. “It means ‘great mountains of beauty.” Lakita sighed. “It means ‘raven.'” Dan pushed his way between her and Miral. “You got any Romulan Ale?” “Dan you’re not old enough to drink that!” his sister snapped.

 

“Uh,” Quark was answering Dan’s question, looking into his own almost-empty mug. “I’ll check…” Kale Kim frowned. “Are you supposed to be drinking while bartending?” Quark ignored him, still searching for Dan’s request. Miral gave up. “When’s the toast?” Barclay had gone onto a tangent, telling a story about Voyager’s return to Earth. “…the wormhole opened up, and out comes a massive Borg sphere…” he seemed to have forgotten that most of the people in his audience had been there when it happened. “…and out of those flames flew a starship—”

 

“Just like yesterday.” Janeway said, finally cutting off Barclay’s story. “And now, you wanted to give a toast to that day?” “—Ah yes. I’m sorry, I got off track a bit. Today is special, not just because it’s the day Voyager returned home, but—correct me if I’m wrong—but it’s also the day that an Admiral Janeway in an alternate timeline changed history to bring her crew home.” The yard was silent. There were a handful of confused faces, especially in the younger crowd. “Maybe I didn’t word that in the clearest way,” Barclay said nervously.

 

Janeway decided to help him out. “What Reg means is that,” she looked at everyone around her, “As most of you know, Voyager was stranded for seven years in the Delta Quadrant, until a woman from twenty-six years in the future traveled back to our time to bring us home. She was my future self. It’s because of her that this crew returned home after seven years, rather than sixteen. The advances Starfleet has made in technology to fight the Borg come from technology she brought to us from that alternate future. And this year, twenty-six years after she traveled back in time to help us, this is the year from her point of view that she would have changed history to save Voyager.

Many people still seemed to be trying to work out what she’d said. Even her husband looked a bit confused, and Donnell knew the whole story back to front. Janeway realized it might not be worth it to try to explain the story to anyone who wasn’t there. “Let’s just get on with this toast before my headache gets any worse.” Janeway decided.

 

“Thank you Admiral.” Barclay lifted his glass. Everyone followed. “So today I would like to toast not only this family, which I am grateful to have been adopted by, but I’d also like to toast that woman who changed the timeline and sacrificed her life to bring this crew home. If it weren’t for her efforts, most of the crew wouldn’t have come home in time to start families, and much of our younger crowd here would never have been born.” Kale Kim muttered, “Creepy.” Barclay finished his speech. “To the admiral.” Everyone repeated, “To the admiral.” As she sipped her champagne Janeway glanced at Jason and Sylvia, eight months pregnant; at Oliver, Kale Kim, Lakita Hansen, and the Paris kids, playing some drinking game. She owed that admiral a lot. And Janeway hoped that her upcoming mission wouldn’t ignite some catastrophe that would ruin everything her alternate-self had fought to achieve for them.

 

Chapter Two –  Twenty Six years of History

 

The small ship came out of transwarp a few lightyears from the Ocompan solar system, cutting through a cloud of sapphire-colored space dust. The shuttle bore Star Fleet’s symbol on its hull, but inside, its three occupants wore civilian clothes; if anything in their private mission went wrong, Star Fleet didn’t want Janeway, the Doctor, or Seven of Nine sporting Star Fleet uniforms for the Delta Quadrant. Janeway sat at the helm sipping her coffee, while the Doctor checked his medical supplies. Seven was in the back room, lying in a bed, “recharging” through her mobile-regenerator. Janeway took the ship towards the Ocompan home world, trying to ignore the uncomfortable silence that had come over the ship since Seven had left to regenerate. The Doctor, still examining his supplies, finally broke it. “It’s awfully quiet in here, don’t you think Captain? I brought some of my operas along, just for awkward silences like this. ” “If you want someone to talk to Doctor, just ask. You don’t have to threaten me.” Janeway joked, taking another sip of coffee. “And I haven’t been anyone’s captain in twenty-six years.” “Well, I’ve had a name for twenty-one years, but everyone from the old family still calls me ‘Doctor’ or ‘Doc.’ I don’t know about you Kathy, but being back here in the Delta Quadrant, I’m feeling particularly nostalgic. It’s nice to have something to take my mind off of recent events.” Janeway knew he was referring to his recent, failed relationship. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you and Lana,” she said sympathetically.

 

“It was for the best,” the Doctor said, in an accepting tone of voice. “If I can’t have her for a wife, perhaps I’ll have her for a stepmother.” Janeway frowned over her coffee mug. “Your old girlfriend is with your creator now?” “I introduced her to Lewis Zimmerman, and they ended up getting along a little bit better than I’d had in mind.” The back door opened, and they both turned to see Seven walk in. Now in her fifties, Seven still looked quite good for her age. Of course she no longer had her hourglass figure, and her once golden hair had turned a mouse-brown flecked with gray. She spoke much more like an ordinary person than she had on Voyager, using sarcasm and idioms regularly. But she still sported her Borg implants, and loved working her large scientific vocabulary into everything she said. She still carried herself regally, with her hair in an elegant braided bun, dressed in a royal-blue tunic and pants that flattered her figure and brought out the blue in her eyes. In her older age, Seven often gave off the aura of a queen. But a sad queen lately, one whose heart was broken. And who, no doubt, didn’t entirely enjoy the company of another old queen, who had loved that same man she had.

 

But Janeway and Seven’s friendship was stronger than a petty romantic rivalry. They both knew it. Chakotay had told them both right out, he didn’t want them to waste their lives resenting each other over him. Near the very end, on his deathbed, he’d even given Seven a very strong hint, which even the ex-Borg drone couldn’t have missed: “…I want you to move on, Seven. You have a lot of love to give, and I don’t want you to let it go to waste after I’m gone. You’ll still have our daughter. Your Aunt Irene. Kathryn…the Doctor.” Seven broke Janeway out of her thoughts. “We’re nearing the Ocompan system?” she asked, diplomatically. Janeway nodded. “Just a few light-years now. Let’s get this show on the road!” Seven took a seat between Janeway and the Doctor. “Let’s just hope there isn’t much Borg activity around Ocompa these days,” she sighed. “There are several things I miss from our time aboard Voyager, but the Borg isn’t one of them.” “I’ll drink to that!” Janeway lifted her coffee mug. “Speaking of drinking, Quark was at the party last week. He asked me to say hello to you. You remember him?” Seven gave half a smile, and raised her eyebrow. “He risks his life to help us win the Second Dominion War, just so I’ll model for his bar’s advertisement. How could I forget. Tell Quark I said hello, too.”

 

“I wish you could’ve been there Seven.” Janeway said gently, carefully. “Everyone’s been missing you. Harry, Tuvok, Naomi…Lakita was there too. She told me you two haven’t seen each other a single day since she moved out.” Seven turned away from her, looking down at her consol. “Lakita and I have both been busy.” Without looking back at Janeway or the Doctor, Seven stood up. “We should be at Ocompa in approximately twenty minutes. I should make sure all of our supplies are ready.” The Doctor and Janeway exchanged a glance as Seven left the room. Ocompa, they were relieved to find, was not a Borg planet. It was patrolled by Talaxian and Vidiian starships, and a few vessels of a shape Janeway didn’t recognize, and supposed might be Ocompan. After some discussion with the forces in charge, it was decided that Janeway’s group would land on the planet, and meet with a Talaxian guide. The three of them stepped out of their ship, and met with a tall, slim Talaxian guide named Drex. The Doctor and Seven looked around curiously as the group made their way through the sand. Neither of them had ever set foot on Ocompa, so they couldn’t appreciate just how different the planet looked since Voyager had first encountered it all those years ago.

 

The planet was still largely a desert. But manmade streams and rivers cut through the sand, framed by stone walls. Clusters of dome-shaped houses stood along the rivers, and a few plants and trees grew here and there. In the distance, they could see various starships at docking pads, between the clusters of homes. According to Drex, Ocompa had become something of a space port. Ocompans and other Delta Quadrant species stopped their business on the streets to watch the group approach. When they reached the edge of the nearest river, a small crowd waited for them. Ocompans gazed at Janeway, Seven and the Doctor, women with conch-shaped ears lined with red markings, men with blue-lined ears, all with the same pixy-like features and manner Kes had displayed. Most of them wore the same sort of oddly-shaped garments Kes had worn in her younger years aboard Voyager, the bright colors clashing sharply with the empty brown desert behind them. Here and there stood some Talaxians; a couple of Kazon; and a third species with round bumps on their foreheads, who Janeway recognized as Viddians, now cured of the Phage disease. An old Ocompan man in purple robes stepped forward from the crowd.

 

“Minister,” Drex nodded to the Ocompan leader. “Allow me to present Admiral Kathryn Janeway, Dr. Annika Hansen, and Dr. Leonardo Amadeus.” “Leo” was what a lot of people called the Doctor, since he’d picked his name. But most of the old Voyager group still called him “Doctor.” The same was true for Seven; most of her friends whom she’d made after Voyager, like Deanna Troi or Captain Dax, called her “Annika,” but those closest to her still called her “Seven” (except of course Lakita, who called her “Mom,” or “Mother” when she was mad). “Kathryn Janeway,” the town’s head minister stepped forward. “I am Thanis, Minister of this sect. We’ve heard so much about you. Stories of your crew have been passed down from generation to generation, telling how you destroyed the Caretaker’s array to save us from the Kazon.” The Kazon men and women in the crowd looked on somberly. Apparently, they did not share their past generations’ grudge against the Ocompa. “And then, of course, the Ocompan who lived aboard your ship, who returned home to us.” Janeway blinked. “Kes.” “She was old and tired. But she had infinite wisdom to share with us. She helped us expand our mental abilities, and rebuild our civilization here, above the ground. We owe her everything.” Janeway glanced at the Doctor, who was listening with a sorrowful look on his face. Kes had been his first friend aboard Voyager, the first crewmember to treat him like a real person. Seven’s face showed a solemn sympathy for Janeway and the Doctor, having never known Kes herself. Janeway looked back at the minister, and swallowed. “Kes is gone now, of course.” It was secretly a question, but she didn’t phrase it like one.

 

“Kes did not die a natural death,” the Minister answered. “It’s said that when her body became too old for life, it dissolved into pure energy. There are those of us who believe she is still here, in another form…” he regained his composure. “But we’re running low on time. We have sick and injured coming to this village every day, from colonies and ships that were attacked by the Krenim and their Borg weapons. I’m told you’ve brought treatments that can reverse the effects of assimilation?” “Better than that.” Janeway said. “We’ve brought you the technology to replicate those treatments, as well as food and other necessities for survival. But these replicators are programmed only to provide these necessities. I’m sorry, but our society cannot allow us to give out weapons, not knowing what hands they’ll end up in. But after I speak with your authorities, and witness what’s going on with my own eyes, I may be able to convince my leaders to lend you some more help.” The Ocompan minister nodded. “Of course. We’re gracious for any help you can provide us.”

 

Three days later, Janeway, the Doctor, and Seven were back in their ship, headed back for the Alpha Quadrant. They had to move a safe distance from Ocompa, before entering transwarp. For the first twenty minutes or so, they’d have to travel at a regular warp speed. This was to prevent damage to the surronding space. They had spent most of their time teaching the Ocompa and their allies how to operate the technology they’d give them, and had had little time for much else. But they found time to learn a bit about the Ocompan culture, and how things had been going for that section of the Delta Quadrant over the last thirty years. And there was plenty of reading material for the ride home. In return for the help they had provided, Thanis had given them copies of Ocompan history texts, and all the information on Kes, so Janeway and the Doctor could learn what their friend had been up to since returning to her home world. It seemed that after the Caretaker’s death, the Ocompan elders had kept his demise a secret from the public, trying to maintain their underground society as it always had been. An aged Kes had found them when they were close to ruin. She’d revealed the truth to the Ocompan public, and began teaching them how to expand their mental powers, which they eventually used to battle off the hostile Kazon who roamed their planet’s surface. She’d then spent the last year of her life helping them build a society above ground.

 

“Each Ocompan sect functions like a Collective,” Seven mused, as she read through the information on her PADD. “Who would’ve thought Kes would be taking a leaf out of the Borg’s book!” “On Earth, we’d refer to their society as Communism,” The Doctor said with amusement. “That structure seems to have worked out much better for the Ocompa than it did for humans.” “I imagine their telephathy helps,” Seven said, now looking the Doctor in the eye, and showing genuine enthusiasm in the discussion. “Things like privacy and personal gain become less important when everyone can hear each other’s thoughts twenty-four seven.” Janeway watched Seven and the Doctor go on about different theories they had about Kes and the Delta Quadrant, with half a smile on her face. Seven had seemed more alive in the last few days than she had in the last couple of years put together. Trying to talk to Seven about present events, Janeway had come to realize, was useless. So instead, Janeway had started bringing up the past, starting conversations about the great times aboard Voyager, and reminiscing about when Jason, Oliver and Lakita were babies. “…so let’s say you’re right, and Kes is outside the space-time continuum now,” Seven said to the Doctor, “Then perhaps she’s joined the Q continuum. Maybe she and Q will wed and rule the cosmos together!”

 

The Doctor’s face scrunched up with disgust, while Seven giggled through her hand. “Kes and Q? What a dreadful thought—!” An alarm suddenly began to beep. Seven looked quickly and her console. “There’s a ship with a Borg signature nearby.” “Increase to maximum warp!” Janeway said, looking frantically on the viewscreen, to see if the ship was in sight. The stars stretched, and they were soon cutting through space. Seven’s eyes stayed glued to her consol. “We’ll be ready to move into transwarp…now!” “Do it!” Seven typed into her consol. In front of them, a spiral of green light began to bloom, welcoming them into transwarp. But as the little ship came into it, the transwarp tunnel suddenly weekend, and spiraled back down out of existence. “What the hell is going on?” Janeway demanded. “We’re caught in a tractor beam,” Seven looked up at the view screen. “That ship came out of nowhere! I don’t know how…” at a loss for words, Seven worked at her consol frantically, trying futilely to outmaneuver the tractor beam. The ship on the viewscreen didn’t look Kermim, or Borg. It was slick and smooth, with a shape that reminded Janeway of a Klingon dagger. And something else was familiar about it…she’d seen this ship before… “I’m targeting the source of their tractor beam,” the Doctor added frantically. “If I can find it…” “Kathryn,” Seven said, grabbing Janeway’s attention. “That ship, it isn’t the Krenim, or Borg or…anyone I recog—Wait,” Seven squinted at the viewscreen, as the strange-looking ship grew closer and closer. “I’ve seen this ship,” “So have I.” Janeway stared, wide-eyed, at the writing on the ship’s hull: Relativity. The old admiral shook her head with disbelief. “No…” “We’re being hailed,” the Doctor said. “The signature’s…Federation?” “Open a channel,” Janeway said, dreading the upcoming conversation.

 

The man on the view screen was exactly whom she’d feared it would be. A burly middle-aged man with brown hair in a buzz-cut, wearing an oddly-styled black-and-purple uniform, and an irritated scowl on his face. Captain Braxton, the time-ship captain from the 29th century. Voyager had run into Braxton only twice, but each time involved more than one Braxton, Braxton’s from different time lines…a young, blonde, Braxton who had coldly informed Janeway that he was about to kill her crew; an old, bearded, insane Braxton, who picketed an “End of the World” sign around 1990s Los Angeles; the silver-haired Braxton who’d tried to blow up her ship…and a few others to boot…both of Voyager’s encounters with the Relativity had left Janeway with a throbbing headache, for so many reasons. The particular Captain Braxton who gazed back at Janeway on the viewscreen looked like the one she and Seven had worked with, who had wanted their help to catch a saboteur that was trying to erase Voyager from history. (The culprit had turned out to be another Braxton.) Hoping to God that this Braxton was at least one of the sane ones, Janeway held her head up respectively and greeted him. “Captain Braxton.” “Captain—No, I’m sorry—Admiral Janeway.” Braxton’s tone of voice wasn’t an improvement over the look on his face. “Have we in some way disturbed the time line?” Janeway asked with mock politeness. Braxton snorted. “Oh, not the entire timeline. Just twenty-six years of history.”

 

Chapter Three –  Slight Complication

 

Janeway stared at Braxton like a deer in the headlights. “What are you talking about?” Braxton raised an eyebrow, almost smugly. “Someone has just changed the timeline. You see Admiral, it seems that up until a few minutes ago, history had it written that the starship Voyager was lost in the Delta Quadrant for twenty-three years. You lost many crewmembers along the way,” he glanced at Seven of Nine, whose jaw clenched. “And your long journey brought the Federation information that was able to help us bring the Borg Collective’s reign of terror to a slow-down.” He bit his lip in a scowl. “Approximately ten minutes ago, my timeship detected distortions in the timeline. You’ll never guess which individual they were linked to. As soon as I recognized it as Kathryn Janeway, I had my officers download the history texts from Earth, so we could have a look at the damage. It seems that now, Voyager returned home after only seven years, and crippled the Borg collective all in one blow!” Still staring wide-eyed, Janeway gave Braxton a curt not. “You’re very welcome!” “I’m not finished. Since the collapse of the Borg, their technology has been attained by a species called the Krenim, and a new wave of terror was born. In a few decades (from your point of view), there will be a galactic war that will almost destroy the Federation, and lead to the deaths of millions.” Janeway, Seven, and the Doctor stared intently at Braxton.

 

“Surely there is a way to prevent those events,” Seven said, keeping her voice void of emotion, “Without destroying this timeline.” “You’ve already destroyed the real timeline!” Braxton thundered. “Millions of lives were affected!” “Why aren’t you taking this up with the Admiral Janeway who committed that crime?” Janeway demanded. “I’m not the one who traveled back in time and altered history. If you want that Janeway, why not go back twenty-six years ago, and talk to her?!” “Oh I plan to!”Braxton smiled. “After I arrest you, we’ll drop by and pick up your ‘temporal clone,’ as it were. Then you’ll both face trial, and we’ll decide after that whether or not we want to keep this new timeline you’ve created for us.” “I don’t know if this means anything to you, Captain,” Janeway stared at Braxton coldly, walking around the back of Seven’s chair. “But this ‘new timeline,’ as you call it, happens to contain some unique individual lives. Human lives. Children who wouldn’t be born, if you forced Voyager to stay in the Delta Quadrant all those extra years. Mine in included. And Seven’s. If you think we’ll even consider—” “I don’t mean to interrupt,” The Doctor piped up from his seat near the wall. “But the Krenim are getting closer as we speak. Why don’t we move this conversation somewhere a little bit more—”

 

A blast from the Krenim ship shook Janeway’s’ shuttle craft. On the viewscreen, they saw Braxton’s ship take a few hits as well. “Sir!” Braxton’s first officer Ducane called, “The Krenim—” “…can wait!” Braxton snapped. “Beam Janway aboard!” “I can’!” Ducane shook his head fiercely. “Our transporters are jammed,” “Shut off your tractor beam!” Janeway begged. “We’ll help you fight them! We’ll beat them together!” Braxton glared at Janeway, then pounded his consol with one finger, closing the discussion. Seven and the Doctor still fought at the shuttle’s controls. “We’re sitting ducks!” The Doctor finally exclaimed, giving up. Seven shot out of her seat. “This is useless. I’m getting a phaser rifle.” “What good will those do if the Krenim have Borg technology?!” The Doctor said exasperatedly, but Seven ignored him.

 

Amidst the blasts and alarms, there came a high-pitched whine. Janeway and the Doctor turned to see a blue-hot phaser beam cutting through the shuttle craft’s wall, in a circular motion. “I think we’re being boarded,” The Doctor said dryly, just as Seven returned from the back room with the weapons. Hearing this, Seven wasted no time distributing the weapons. The three of them stood there, phaser rifles ready, waiting to be faced with Krenim soldiers or Borg drones. But when the circular chunk of wall was pushed to the floor, in stepped Captain Braxton and Lt. Ducane. Janeway, Seven and the Doctor swapped glances, but none of them lowered their weapons. “You brought your first officer on an away mission?” Janeway asked, half mockingly. “He insisted,” Braxton said flatly. “Now, Admiral, if you please.” In his hand Braxton held a piece of future technology that Janeway obviously didn’t recognize, but looked similar to a site-to-site transporter. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Janeway said over her phaser rifle. Braxton shrugged, and took a few steps backward. “By all means, I’m in no hurry!” He sank into a seat by the helm, folding his hands behind his neck. “Go ahead, stand there and threaten me. I’ve got all of eternit—”

 

A blinding flash of light filed the shuttle for half a second. Immediately afterwards, all heads turned to the shuttle’s viewscreen, to see a roaring, flaming explosion. Braxton shot up from the chair and stood, staring at the viewscreen, as his ship was torn asunder. The Relativity was being destroyed by the Krenim ships, blasted, burned apart, dissolving into debris….gone. Braxton and Ducane stared, frozen. Braxton’s jaw was dropped. Janeway, Seven and the Doctor were almost equally petrified. Janeway had had some concern for the wellbeing of Braxton’s ship and crew earlier, but the prospect that it could actually be obliterated like that, by mere 24th-century starships… “We have a problem,” Ducane said softly. Braxton slowly turned his head to stare at his first officer. The Doctor glanced back down at the panel on the help, and then a shocked look of realization came over his face. The hologram lunged for the controls, swinging his phaser-rifle over his shoulder. Within seconds, the Doctor had the little ship moving again.

 

“The tractor beam’s gone,” Seven said, thinking out loud. “We can escape!” She rushed to join the Doctor at the controls. Janeway turned to Braxton, and lowered her weapon. “Looks like it’s you who’ll be taking a little trip with me.” “Our shields are down, thirty-nine percent!” Seven called from her console. Janeway hurried to join her friends at the controls. Ducane and Braxton looked on helplessly, unfamiliar with how to operate an “ancient” 24th century time ship. After some furious typing from Seven, the transwarp tunnel spiraled opened once more. The Doctor took them in, and soon everything outside the windows was spiraling green. It was like being inside some strange roller coaster. Janeway was reminded of the classic “Willy Wonka” holoprogram she’d once played with a school friend. “We’ll be back in no time!” The Doctor smiled.

 

“Don’t get excited,” Seven said flatly, “The Borg have transwarp too. I’m trying to jam the Krenim’s controls,” A blast from the enemy shook the ship, and made everyone stumble forward. Seven and the Doctor steadied themselves on their consoles. Janeway grabbed the back of Seven’s chair to keep from falling over. Ducane wound up gripping Janeway’s arm. Before the shock of that blast had worn off enough for anyone to change positions, there came the hum of a transporter at work. Janeway saw the shuttle around her turn to a tinted green, and then vanish entirely, as her body dissolved into another location… The Doctor barely had time to look as both Janeway and Ducane were simultaneously beamed off the ship, through the green light of a Borg-styled transporter. At once, Seven screamed “Captain!” and Braxton hollered, “Juel!” The Doctor quickly turned back to his console, to keep up with the attack. To his surprise… “The Krenim have broken off pursuit!” “Go back!” Seven shouted. “Doctor, go back—!” “I can’t!” the Doctor’s voice sounded more stern now, than panicked. “We’re, we’re moving too fast.” “You’re lying!” “Approaching Deep Space Nine,” The Doctor’s voice softened, as they came out of transwarp, back into normal space. “We have to go back,” Seven’s voice was cracking. Braxton just stood there silently, too shocked for words. The Doctor slowly leaned back in his chair, exhaling (to express his emotions, naturally, not from exhaustion). “…We’ll contact Starfleet Command, and report our…slight  complications in our mission…then make arrangements to retrieve the Admiral.”

 

 

Chapter 4: If A Leads to B, and B Leads to C…

 

“Cat!” “Very good! Now what’s this?” “…Bibble!” “Tribble.” “Bibble!” “T-rrrribble!” Icheb was leaning over the bathtub, where his two-year-old son Ntaryn sat, surrounded by animal-shaped toys. Over in the next room, his wife and daughter sat against the glass window-wall, silhouetted against the massive, setting blue sun. Sabrina was huddled on the sofa, busy with schoolwork. Naomi stared intently into her desk monitor, taking some kind of a call from Starfleet. Icheb had worked for Starfleet a while, but after he and Naomi had Sabrina, they decide at least one of them should “stay home.” Icheb had decided that, since he’d already had his time on a starship, he should let his wife be the one to keep her dream job. He now worked as a geology professor a university, here on the home world of Naomi’s father. Their human friends often seemed to disapprove of Naomi’s career, since human children required more attention from their mother. But, as Icheb would remind these friends, Sabrina and Ntaryn were only one-forth human, and in the Brunali and Ktarian cultures, the father’s involvement was very important. “Say ‘ribble.'” Icheb tried, holding the rubber tribble over his son’s head. Ntaryn, like his sister, had inherited his mother’s forehead horns, but unlike Sabrina, he also had a hint of Icheb’s nose-ridge. “Ribble! Come on!” Icheb smiled. “Wribble!”

 

“Yes! There you go!” Icheb let the toy tribble drop into Ntaryn’s hands, as a shadow fell over the tub. He looked over his shoulder to see Naomi standing in the doorway, her red-gold hair falling casually around her shoulders. Her arms were folded, her face somber. That message she’d gotten wasn’t a rejection from Star Fleet, or anything so trivial. This look said something else, something more serious. “Who died?” Icheb said, with a nervous chuckle. “Well we don’t know for sure that she’s dead,” Naomi said softly. From the couch, Sabrina looked up curiously. Danroth Paris stepped into the fighting ring, his adrenaline surging.

 

From the orange-rock seats of the stone coliseum, spectators from a medley of species cheered and booed him. The majority were Klingons, but Cartesians, humans, Romulans, and virtually any other species with a violent streak regularly came to Qo’noS to view this not-quite-legal spectacle. At the other end of the ring, Dan’s opponent entered: a talk, green, Gorn. Dan now felt a tinge of fear—not of getting hurt, but if failure. One of his many idols, James T. Kirk, had famously beaten a Gorn in battle. Kirk had been a mere full-blooded human. If Dan, with his Klingon heritage, failed to match Kirk’s victory, well…that would stink.

 

Neither party knew who they’d be fighting until they both stepped into the ring. Before this, each had to choose their own weapons from a locker of choices. Dan stepped forward with two Klingon daggers on the hips of his black armor. The Gorn greeted Dan with a congested snarl, brandishing a blunt weapon that reminded Dan of a cross between a medieval Morningstar and a stegosaurus’s tail.

 

Dan never liked to waste time standing awkwardly, waiting for his opponent to strike first. He swung with one dagger, which the Gorn dodged easily. Dan ducked, letting the blunt weapon fly overhead, then delivered a roundhouse kick to the Gorn’s shin. Their fight continued, with the Gorn twirling and swinging his spiked club as if it were light as a baton, Dan fighting back with a random combination of Klingon and human martial arts. The crowd was going wild for both of them. Shouts in Klingon echoed across the rock stadium, from “The Klingon will triumph!” to “Get out of the ring, human!” Dan liked being one-fourth Klingon. Among humans, it made him feel powerful. The fact that his human heritage angered so many Klingons only made his life more exciting. Dan had been knocked to the ground when he saw a ship fly overhead. It was a small vessel, which looked like it might be his sister’s private shuttle.

 

The Gorn’s roar brought Dan back to the ring, and he quickly rolled out of the way, before the Gorn’s club smashed into the ground. The club became stuck between some large rocks. While the Gorn was bent over, trying to pull his weapon free, Dan spun around and slashed him across the back. The Gorn arched back, roaring in pain. Dan moved around the Gorn, expecting another swing from the club. Instead, the Gorn bodily pushed down on the handle of his club, creating a catapult-effect that sent a basketball-sized rock flying up into Dan’s face. Dan flew backwards, smacking back onto the ground, his face covered in blood. Before he could get back up, the Gorn stepped on his chest with one lizard-like foot, pinning him down. Whomever pinned his opponent to the ground for ten seconds won the competition. Biting his lip, Dan brought his two daggers in a crisscross at the Gorn’s ankle, and slashed as hard as he could. He barely broke the reptilian’s thick hide, leaving what looked like two paper-cuts. The judges counted to ten in Klingon, and the match was over. Dan let his head drop back to the ground, defeated, and swore quietly.

 

The Gorn released him, but Dan didn’t get up right away. He wasn’t a sore loser, he was too proud to be a sore loser. But it always took effort to face everyone, after he lost. Looking at the cheering and booing crowd, he saw a familiar figure push her way down towards the front row. It had been Miral’s ship, then. His older sister waved him down, signaling that she wanted to talk. Dan rolled over and pushed himself up, then hurried up to meet her. “Mom doesn’t like your ‘fighting,’ you know,” Miral said casually, as she handed her brother a handkerchief for his bloody nose and chin. Dan dabbed his face with the cloth, they exited the stadium, and crossed the barren landscape towards Miral’s shuttle. “I know.” Dan grinned, examining the blood on his handkerchief. “Why do you think I do it in the first place?” Miral didn’t have any witty insult to respond with, like usual. “Miri, what’s wrong?”

 

“It’s Aunt Kathy.” Miral’s voice was low and stern, controlled. Starfleet. “She’s been taken prisoner in the Delta Quadrant.” It took a moment for the news to sink in. “That mission she went on…that involved a war-zone of some kind?”

 

“I guess so.” Miral opened the hatch of her shuttle, and let Dan enter. “I just got the message this morning from Doc and Seven. Captain T’Rain granted me leave to come tell you, and possibly join the rescue mission. If there is one.” Miral climbed in and closed the hatch, then started up her ship. Dan nodded. “If someone’s taking volunteers into a deadly region of space, I want in.” “I figured you would.” Miral smiled, as she took them off into the sky. Klingon women. Buxom, scantily armored, Klingon women. Kale Kim was a talented painter, capable of producing professional-quality art. He was the son of a famous Starfleet hero. And this was the only work he could find to put food on the table. Painting covers for erotic, Klingon romance novels.

 

Just the irony of someone like him, of all men, being tasked with this type of art, was hilarious. Granted, Kale wouldn’t starve if he didn’t work. People on Earth didn’t work for money these days. But society expected you to work. He’d feel worthless if he didn’t. He had to work. He had to contribute to society, in return for the little apartment he rented, the food he ate, and the cats that kept him company. But the fact that society had no bigger favor to ask of him than covers for sleazy novels, that was annoying.

 

He actually had a novel of his own that he was working on. A historical fiction, set during the time of Captain Kirk. But the research required to make it as accurate as he wanted had turned out to be a hell of a lot more work than he’d anticipated.

 

Kale’s desk monitor chirped, startling his cat Demeter from her sleep. Kale wiped off his brush and set it in the cup of water, more than willing to take a break from painting the lighting Princess K’Lora’s right breast. He answered the monitor, and was greeted with Miral and Dan Paris, in what looked like Miral’s shuttlecraft. Dan was wearing Klingon armor, his face dabbed with cuts. He was curing them himself, with a medical instrument, while Miral piloted. “Hey, Kale,” Dan said, not stopping his work on his face. “Hey,” Kale said awkwardly. “Um,” he shrugged, “What’s up?”

 

Miral answered solemnly, “Admiral Janeway’s been taken prisoner by the Borg, or some assholes controlling the Borg. I’m not too sure about the details.” Kale suddenly grew a little sick inside. “Aunt Kathy…?” Dan nodded, eliminating a cut on his forehead. “Wanna go rescue her?” Kale blinked. “Rescue…Admiral Janeway?” “No, Princess Galactica.” (This was a later-edition “Captain Proton” character, who Dan and Miral’s dad had modeled after their mother.) “Yes, Aunt Kathy! Seven and the Doctor are asking for volunteers to like, get on some ship and go save her. I think. Wanna go?” Kale had no idea how to respond. “Now?”

 

Dan looked around, and shrugged. “We’re headed towards San Francisco to pick you up, unless you don’t want to go.” “Um…I…I want to help,” Kale touched his temple. “God, I want to help Aunt Kathy. But I don’t know what I’d do,” “Come on, think all the inspiration you’ll get, for you art.” Or a novel. “Yeah,” through his nauseated worry for Katherine Janeway, Kale managed to see the potential fun. The adventure. “Yeah, I’ll go!” Hell, The Battles of the Soul could wait a while, or get a new illustrator.

 

After the reunion, Aunt Kathy and Uncle Donnell had invited Lakita to stay over for a few days, until the mission to help the Ocompa was complete. The discussed plan was that when Janeway returned with Seven and the Doctor, they’d all get together for dinner, and hopefully Lakita and her mother could start to work on patching up their relationship.

 

Lakita and Oliver were in the basement, enjoying the private little holodeck. The O’Malley-Janeway family owned a private little holosuite because, well, they were famous and loaded. Lord of the Rings was a favorite of Lakita and Oliver. Oliver always insisted she play Arwen, saying she looked and acted the part perfectly. Oliver himself played Frodo. The holonovel would change up the story a bit, depending on which characters the participants wanted to play, so that whomever one chose could be incorporated into the Fellowship of the Ring, the Battle of Helms Deep, and the destruction of the Ring.

 

“Hey Oliver,” Lakita said casually, as she decapitated an orc with her Elven sword. “We need to get a whole group here sometime, and play out the whole cast! Miral would make a wicked Eowyn, and I know Dan would love to play Aragorn. And I have a friend at work who can be Gimli—Pier, he does a lot of woodwork on his spare time. He knows how to use an ax!” “Yeah?” Oliver stabbed an orc with his blue, glowing sword. “That sounds like fun! Kale Kim could be a hobbit, or Legolas or—” “Oliver?” a female voice said quietly, “Lakita?” Without lowering his sword, Oliver said, “Computer, freeze program.” The Orcs and Fellowship froze in mid-battle.

 

In the doorway of the tiny holodeck stood Sylvia Velazquez, Oliver’s soon-to-be sister-in-law, and mother of his unborn nephew. Sylvia’s normally copper face was deathly pale, beneath her black curled locks. “What is it?” Oliver asked. “Is Mum okay?” Hesitantly, Sylvia said, “I think you’d better come upstairs. Both of you. The Doctor and Seven are on the monitor…” “…She’s alive,” The Doctor assured the family.

 

Lakita, Oliver, Jason, Sylvia, Donnell, and even the dogs sat around the monitor. The Doctor and Seven were calling from a suite on Deep Space Nine. “Starfleet will let us take a ship to find her,” The Doctor explained. “It’s a humanitarian rescue mission, so it won’t violate protocol. But Starfleet itself won’t be sending a crew. That does violate protocol…for perfectly sensible reasons apparently too complicated for my simple program to comprehend,” the Doctor trailed off, bitterly. Seven spoke up. “We’ve already gotten over fifty volunteers, from Starfleet and otherwise. We even have a captain—or commander at least. Naomi’s volunteered to lead the mission. It’ll go on her resume,” Seven finished the last sentence with a hint of humorous irony. “Everyone’s meeting here at Deep Space Nine. The Doctor, Captain Braxton and I will explain the details.” “Captain who?” Jason asked. Seven and the Doctor exchanged a glance.

 

“It’s…complicated.” The Doctor said. “I,” Jason began, then looked at his pregnant fiancé. He stood up from the couch, and paced a bit, rubbing his chin. Finally, he decided, “I can’t, I can’t leave. I can’t leave you and the baby.”

 

“Jason,” Sylvia said sympathetically, “It’s your mother,” “And you’re my…son’s mother. No, I won’t leave you. If I lose my mother that will be awful enough, without our son losing his father.” Donnell shook his head. “I wouldn’t want you to go anyway.” He looked at Oliver. “You’re definitely not going.” Oliver thought this over, but didn’t argue with his father. He looked at Lakita, who gave a half-shrug and raised an eyebrow.

 

“I’m going.” She stood up, and smoothed her black hair, looking like she was thinking of how to word what she was going to say next. “If someone wants to just…walk me to the space station,” she eyed Oliver, “Tell them all what I’m capable of, be my reference,” “Yah,” Oliver nodded. “Yah, I’ll vouch for you. I want to hear what they’re going to do to get me mum back, anyway.” Looking at his father, he said, “I’ll give you a full report, after dropping Lakita off.” Donnell stared at his youngest son through narrowed eyes, almost angrily. “I want you te’ contact me the moment you get there.” Oliver nodded. “Yeah. Will do.” As Lakita headed for the room’s exit, Seven called from the monitor, “Where are you going?” Lakita stopped and turned. It was the first thing her mother had said to her in a long time.

 

“To pack.” Lakita said matter-of-factly, and left. At least fifty people were gathered at the promegade. Quark, the old Ferangi, was tending the bar, serving light alcohol and fruity drinks, as if this were some corporate businesses’ Christmas party. There were no available chairs left, and several people were sitting on tables or just standing. At the front, near the bar, stood Seven, the Doctor, and a third person, who Oliver supposed must be Captain Braxton. Seven and the Doctor surveyed the crowd with calm, controlled faces. Braxton looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “It is 0600 hours,” Seven said to the Doctor. “Shall we begin?”

 

Lakita led Oliver to a table near the front, and took a seat on the table. Oliver clumsily tried to copy her, and almost fell; she caught him, and had to help him up next to her. “Is everybody here?” The Doctor asked awkwardly. “All right…let’s begin.” He cleared his throat. “This is the situation: in the Delta Quadrant, there is a species called the Krenim, who have harvested Borg technology. The Collective has, for the most part, been destroyed—” “Mostly?” Danroth Paris exclaimed.

 

“—But the Krenim are now assimilating other races into servitude. Admiral Janeway, Dr. Hanson, and myself traveled to the Delta Quadrant on a humanitarian mission, to help some of these races. But on the way back, we received an unexpected visitor,” he glanced at Braxton with a raised eyebrow. “And shortly after, both Captain Janeway and Lt. Ducane—Braxton’s second in command—were beamed off or ship, presumably taken prisoner. Our mission will be to take a starship into the Delta Quadrant and track the admiral down.” Lakita cocked her head curiously at Braxton. “So where are you from, Captain…?” Braxton.” He grumbled. “I’m from five-hundred years into your future. Actually, you shouldn’t even have a future.”

 

Lakita furrowed her brow inquisitively at him. Next to Braxton, Seven looked away, and the Doctor began to rub his forehead, as if a massive headache were staring up.

 

Lakita folded her arms, and shook her long black hair. “If there’s more to this story, I think we should all hear it.” She looked around the Promenade, and got some nods and voices of agreement.

 

Seven looked at her daughter. “It is…complicated,”

 

“No it’s not!” Braxton strolled briskly to the bar, the scowl still on his face. He grabbed a glass off the counter and helped himself to a glass of Romulan ale (to Quark’s slight horror). “It’s a simple matter of A leads to B, and B leads to C.” he took a swig from his glass.

 

The Promenade was silent, as everyone stared at the timeship captain, waiting for clarification.

 

“A, B, and C. The basic time-travel model that everyone learns in their first year at the academy. None of you ever heard of it? Of course not…” he muttered into his glass, “Damned primitives.”

 

Oliver saw Miral Paris scratch the side of her head, staring at Braxton like she thought he was crazy. He decided he agreed with her.

 

Braxton continued. “A: My timeship, the Relativity, detects fluctuations in the timeline, linked to Kathryn Janeway. The Admiral has traveled sixteen years into the past, to bring Voyager home ten years early, and in doing so, alters the timeline drastically. B: I drop by to arrest her for her crime. From her point of view, the crime occurred decades ago, but from mine, it just happened today. C,” Braxton’s voice raised angrily, “My timeship is destroyed by the Krenim empire, which Janeway so curiously created with her new timeline, and I am now stranded here, in the stone ages, until we can somehow reverse the damage!”

 

The crowd seemed, for the most part, to understand.

 

“That wasn’t too complicated,” Dan Paris shrugged.

 

Seven nodded. “Very good. With that said—”

 

“There’s more!” Braxton growled, his eyes widening. “There’s a bit you all may want to know about this enemy you’re facing. The Krenim. You see, Captain Janeway is not the only one who’s been playing around with time travel. The Krenim used to have a timeship, or something like it. At some point in history—never mind when—the Krenim invented a vessel that existed outside the space-time continuum. They used this vessel to erase individuals, entire ships, entire races from history, to their own species’ advantage. As you can image, the damage was bad.” Braxton shook his head. “I have to hand it to Janeway; for all the pain in the ass she’s been, she did destroy that timeship, erasing it from history.”

 

Seven stared at Braxton. “I don’t recall ever experiencing, or being told about, such an incident.”

 

“Well of course you don’t, you pedantic drone!”

 

“Don’t talk to my mother that way!” Lakita exclaimed.

 

“Lakita,” Seven looked at her daughter, begging for diplomacy.

 

Braxton went on. “When Janeway destroyed the timeship, she erased it from history. No one, not you, not even the Krenim themselves, remember that it ever existed. But know this: there was one timeline when Janeway didn’t destroy that timeship, and the Krenim were unstoppable, even worse than they are now with Borg technology. If the Krenim ever find out about that timeline, we’re all done for.”

 

“And what timeline was that?” Seven asked.

 

The Doctor’s eyes widened. “Kes!” he stared at Braxton, then looked at Seven. “Not long before you came aboard Seven, Kes was experiencing a phenomena involving time travel. She was traveling backwards in time, until B’Elanna and I managed to fix the problem—with a bit of ingenuity on my part. She warned us about a possible future, where a race she called the Krenim would devastate the ship, costing us several valuable crewmembers, our captain included. With the knowledge Kes provided for us, we had a bit of a head start when we finally did reach Krenim space.” He looked at Braxton. “If the Krenim somehow could travel back in time, and prevent Kes from warning us about them, then that timeline she experienced could play out all over again, and the Krenim would still have that timeship, wouldn’t they.”

 

“Yep.” Braxton nodded. “Bottom line: The Krenim are, at this moment, still experimenting with temporal technology, trying to invent that timeship. If they find out about either of those alternate timelines, where they had the timeship, that’ll be bad.” “They’re bound to discover it eventually,” Miral Paris said shaking her head. “If they’re experimenting, already.”

 

“Then we need to stop them!” Icheb called from the back of the room. “Let’s focus on getting the admiral back, first,” the Doctor said. “If everyone’s ready, we can start assigning ship duties.” “So who’s gonna captain this little fiasco?” Braxton grumbled. “I am!” Naomi Wildman stepped forward, from the back of the crowd. Braxton looked at her dubiously. “And do you have a ship?” “In fact, we do.” Naomi allowed a half-smile to touch her lips. “Starfleet’s granted me permission to take Voyager out of retirement.”

 

 

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Star Trek- Enigma

Chapter 1

Cast:
Geordi La Forge
Jean-Luc Picard
Beverly Crusher
Worf
Data
Will Riker
Deanna Troi

Though serene and full of stars, an indistinct blemish passed through the region of space like a shadow of fear. In its wake, following at a cautious distance, were three Romulan warships.
‘Sir, we are nearing the Federation’s border,’ the navigator warned.
The eyes of the ship’s captain remained hard, unyielding. ‘Deter its course.’
‘Aye. Launching a spread of photon torpedoes.’
‘On screen. Maximum magnification.’
The view became murky, indistinct, despite the piercingly bright objects, three, six, nine of them, hurtling just ahead of the black-on-black guess passing before the stars.
‘Sir, there is no change in course or speed-’
‘We are entering Federation space-’
‘Damn ’ All eyes turned to the captain who hesitated only for a fraction of a second. ‘Inform the other ships that we are engaging cloaking devices. Shoot to disable.’
The navigator and chief gunner exchanged a look that hid what they were feeling.
‘Aye, sir.’

The young officer reported to the escape pod as ordered, rolled the unwieldy container inside, heaved it into one of the empty seats, began securing it in place using the safety harness, only to find that the catch didn’t quite reach. Realising there was no time and that the container had to be somehow locked into place as-is, she turned around, leaned her back against it, braced her feet against the wall of the pod, and heaved.
With relief she heard the catch click home, shifted herself upright-
-and came to in darkness, coughing, breathing acrid smoke. She thought at first that something was wrong with her senses, until it dawned on her that the lack of sensation was caused, not by paralysis, but by weightlessness  Something was wrong with the ship
Grabbing a handhold, she manoeuvred herself to the door and the pod’s one tiny window, and peered out expecting to see the lighted corridor-
-but instead saw pale sunlight and the arc of a blue and white sphere looming below-
With a rush of superheated air the pod hit the atmosphere, slamming her against the padded wall. At once the temperature inside the pod increased, the air filling with acrid white smoke. Guided half by memory, half by instinct, she held her breath and shut her eyes tight, pulled up the bottom of her shirt out of her uniform and over her face, spat on the cloth until it was damp, held it down over her mouth and nose, and began breathing once more.
From the way the pod shuddered and shook, she knew it was damaged. Through the window she could see fire, not simply the flame of air superheated by the pod’s skin, but real fire caused by burning, edged with black smoke and occasional bits of metal flaring brilliantly white-hot as they were torn loose and incinerated.
There was a sudden roar as the retrorockets cut in, and the crushing press of deceleration. But something was wrong  The pod slewed drunkenly, the engines guttered, died, restarted themselves, guttered- and then came the unmistakable sound of a line rupturing, the scream of fuel jetting out and igniting-
-and then the pod was rolling end-over-end, slamming her from wall to wall . . . she realised dimly that had the interior not been covered with a thick layer of crash-padding that every bone in her body would by now have been broken. With a final sick thud and loud hissing, the pod slithered to a stop.
Her lungs screaming for clean air to breathe, she glanced at the sensor device mounted on the door- now the ceiling- noted with relief that the pod had correctly followed its programming and selected the nearest inhabitable planet, pulled the lever and heaved the hatch open-
-only to pull the door half-closed again with a curse. A brief glimpse had revealed endless white hills, a pale silver sun, and air tinged with a halo of ice-crystals.
A crackling got her attention, and with an inner groan of despair she realised that the pod was burning, still filling with smoke. Coughing, she heaved herself outside into the bitter cold, got turned around on the edge of the hatch, slid off, and sank up to her waist in deep powered snow.
Instantly, she was hit with a blast of air so cold that it watered her eyes and stung her skin. Her vision a silvery smear, she began heaving her way through the snow around the pod to where it burned. Within moments the pod was a roaring inferno, forcing her to back away to a safe distance. The side of her away from the fire was too cold, the side nearest too hot, so she began turning in order to distribute the heat while it lasted. A sound caught her attention, and turning her silver-smeared gaze skyward, stared in sick dread as the pale blue skies became streaked with burning, falling debris.

A dull sound brought her out of a half-frozen stupor, a low vibration felt as much as heard through the deep snow. Blinking stinging soot and the possibility of freezing-death from her eyes, she struggled out from under the pod, now burned out and cold, wondering if the vibration meant rescue or an end to her misery at the hands of an enemy.
Gliding towards her through the snow was a vehicle unlike anything she’d ever seen, like a water craft. Mostly white with round tinted windows, it plowed through the snow on its hull, trailing a wake of powdered snow. Within moments it came to a stop mere metres away, then disgorged a dozen orange-clad humanoid bipeds. Their faces were covered, preventing speech. Working rapidly, methodically, she was extracted from her hole, strapped onto a stretcher, and taken straightaway to the strange snow-craft.
As they carried her through a side doorway her ears were buffeted by the roar of blowers belching heated air. Within moments she found herself on a table in what was obviously a sickbay. Her heart leaped as a woman like herself entered the room. But then the woman began speaking in a tongue that was strange to her ears . . . strange, and yet distantly familiar . . .
The woman’s eyes narrowing with distrust, she said words that this time were understandable. ‘. . . no, not Vulcan. Romulan.’
‘Romulan ’ a man’s voice blurted in surprise. ‘What the hell is she doing here?’
A second woman, human this time, appeared and introduced herself. ‘I’m Doctor Beverly Crusher. You’re on board an emergency medical vehicle. We’re going to treat you for hypothermia . . . can you tell me your name and what you’re doing here?’
‘I am called Raya,’ the young Romulan woman replied in English Standard, realising these were Federation people. ‘I was . . .’ she considered her response carefully, ‘ . . . working on an escape pod when it accidentally ejected itself, bringing me here. I ask that you return the remains of the pod and myself back to my ship.’
The doctor and the others exchanged a look in response. The Vulcan nurse then made a move to begin ministering to the Romulan woman but she demurred and sat up. ‘The damage to my person is minimal. I will be recovered shortly. But I insist on being returned-’
‘You have no ship to return to,’ the doctor told her gently.
Raya gave her a sharp look. ‘My ship was destroyed?’ She recalled the debris falling from the sky, an eyebrow upraised as the truth became plain to her. ‘There were two others . . .’ she stopped herself, seeing the look the others exchanged.
‘I’m commander William Riker of the Federation starship Enterprise,’ the man said, introducing himself. ‘Look, I don’t have time to mince words with you. We were alerted to the presence of three of your Romulan warships entering Federation space in pursuit of something. As they entered our system, your warships were observed cloaking themselves. Shots were then exchanged between your ships and the intruder they were chasing. During this exchange your ships were destroyed. A dozen Federation ships are now following the intruder at a safe distance. If there’s anything you wish to tell us, now would be the time.’
The young Romulan woman swallowed, visibly shaken by this news. ‘Destroyed . . . how is this possible?’
‘The intruder was observed emitting some type of energy bursts at your ships,’ Riker told her. ‘Each scored a direct hit, destroying their target.’
‘But our ships were cloaked ’
Riker shrugged. ‘I don’t know what to tell you, except that the intruder evidently is very powerful and has advanced technology that can see ships even when they’re cloaked.’
Raya hesitated, then said, ‘There is something in the escape pod that must be returned to my people . . . it was strapped into one of the seats.’
‘Whatever it was,’ Riker told her, ‘it’s gone. Everything inside the pod was destroyed by fire.’
‘That is untrue,’ the young Romulan told him. ‘There was a case, the content of which is able to withstand many times the heat of a normal fire. The case itself was extremely heat-resistant.’
‘We did find the container,’ Riker admitted, ‘but it was empty . . .’ he stopped himself, seeing the young Romulan’s reaction. ‘What is it? What was inside that thing?’
‘Something that has now escaped, it seems,’ she replied, her mien an unwilling admixture of respect and dread, one eyebrow upraised in thought. Appraising Riker directly, she said, ‘It seems that our problem has now become yours.’

‘Come,’ Captain Jean Luc Picard said brusquely as he was hailed by an electronic sound from the intercom. He was seated as his desk deep in thought, chin resting on his fist, but looked up, his gaze drawn to Lieutenant Commander Worf because his chief of security stood stiffly at attention- a bad sign of things to come. ‘What is it, Mr Worf?’
‘Sir,’ the Klingon bit off in his habitual deep, clipped tones, ‘the intruder has just breached the security barrier put in place by Federation engineers. Its heading is unchanged.’ He said the word unchanged to emphasise his surprise at the near-effortless manner in which the intruder had passed through a force field which could virtually halt an entire planet in its tracks.
Picard leaned back in his chair and set down the dictapad he’d been reading from. Despite the impossibility of what the Klingon had told him, he was not about to question Worf’s word. Instead, he said, ‘Is there any further word from the Romulans?’
‘Only that they advise us to use the utmost caution in regaining the contents of the container that were released when one of their escape pods crashed on Murius VI.’
‘And did they explain what those contents were?’
‘I think that you should speak with the lone survivor who was in that escape pod,’ Worf said slowly, considering his words carefully.
Captain Picard showed his surprise. ‘Why?’
‘The Romulans will say very little,’ Worf told him in that same careful tone, ‘I suspect because they know very little. We might learn more from an eyewitness who has at least laid eyes on whatever was inside that container.’
Picard sighed and considered the message from StarFleet on the face of the dictapad once more. ‘Very well. Send her in.’

Captain Picard’s senses tightened the instant he laid eyes on the young Romulan woman. He could tell a combat soldier when he saw one. Though lithe and of medium build, and quite attractive, this was a formidable and potentially lethal adversary.
‘You wish to speak with me?’
‘Please, Lieutenant Raya,’ he said gesturing, ‘take a seat.’
She hesitated, arms crossed, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere above his head. ‘I prefer to stand when being interrogated.’
‘This is not an interrogation,’ he said in a manner calculated to put her at ease. ‘Please, sit.’
She did so.
‘I’ve been in contact with the Romulan High Command regarding the incident on Murius VI. As a matter of interstellar goodwill there will be no complaint, formal or otherwise, about actions taken there or their consequences. Further, we have expressed our condolences over the tragic loss of life which occurred there. However, as you were reported to have so eloquently put it, as the subject of this matter is now our problem, we would like some answers.’
‘That depends on the nature of your questions,’ Lieutenant Raya replied evasively, looking him in the eye.
Captain Picard sighed, sensing a lack of cooperation from the young woman. ‘All right. What was in that container? And what is the nature of the object that is now in Federation space?’
‘I . . . can’t give you a direct answer to those questions,’ she told him hesitantly.
‘Why not?’
Her look softened fractionally. ‘Because we are . . . I am . . . uncertain as to what they are.’
Picard raised an eyebrow at that. ‘Is there anything you can tell me?’
‘I can give you a general description of events and my observations, for what they’re worth,’ she told him, as though what she had seen and would testify to were untrustworthy, ‘but must warn you that mere words are not enough to describe a thing that perhaps is not to be accurately described or understood.’
He considered her words in silence for several long moments, then said, ‘Start from the beginning, then. Tell me what you do know.’
Reluctantly, she began. ‘You little know what you ask . . . it is a long tale, some of which you may already know.
‘It begins with the ancient rogue asteroid which was ensnared by Romulus as the planet was forming- ah, I see that you know of it.’
‘I have an interest in archaeology,’ he told her, ‘and among archaeologists there has long been talk and speculation about . . .’ he searched for words, ‘ . . . certain aspects of that celestial body.’
Raya nodded. ‘It has long been surmised that, unlike normal asteroids, this object was part of a planet that was destroyed billions of years ago when its sun’s life came to its end; that it was hurled out of its system to wander the void of space for millennia, eventually to fall under the influence of a newly forming system.’
‘But what has any of this to do with the matter at hand?’ captain Picard asked her, trying to keep impatience out of his voice.
‘A great deal,’ she replied firmly, sensing his mood. ‘Three of your solar decades ago, geologists found evidence of past life on the asteroid. Archaeologists were summoned in secret, and within six years they found evidence of an ancient civilisation. You have heard of this?’
‘There has been a certain amount of wild speculation for some time,’ he told her, ‘outlandish rumours that seemed to have their basis in ancient Romulan myth.’
‘Ah, you speak of rumours associated with the creation myths.’
‘Actually, it’s a much older myth I’m referring to,’ he replied with a slight smile. ‘The one about the leviathan woken by an ancient race of people who delved deep into the earth and awakened a monster.’
‘Then you know,’ she said into his irony, ‘what the archaeologists awakened when they delved into the centre of the asteroid.’
He stared, looking for humour or irony, and saw none. ‘Wait, you’re telling me that they came upon a life form . . .’
‘Deep within the heart of the asteroid,’ she finished for him, ‘where it has slept for billions of years.
‘It was not yet awake when it was first discovered,’ she continued. ‘The archaeologists initially thought they had come upon a fossil, taking a piece of it to be studied-’
‘A piece of it,’ Picard echoed, sensing something unpleasant behind her words.
‘An artifact that is now loose below us on Murius VI,’ she said, completing his thought.
‘And you were doing what with it?’ he said, more to himself. ‘Following this thing . . . to do what?’
‘To buy time,’ she told him. ‘When our researchers began studying the piece that had been taken, they soon realised that it was but one small part of a vast organism. You must understand, we lost more than three ships and all hands aboard them. We lost a team of our best scientists, too, and I would advise that you do as we were doing: regain the part that is lost and make the attempt to understand it.’
‘The main organism-’
‘You will never get close enough to study it,’ she cut him off. ‘And I must warn you: even with a piece of it in your hands, your chances of unlocking its mysteries are not good.’

‘She was right about one thing,’ chief engineer Jordie La Forge said into the communicator badge on the breast of his heavy parka as he studied the remains of the burnt-out escape pod, ‘our chances of understanding this thing aren’t good.’ The howling wind was kept at bay by a ring of tough synthetic sheets affixed to sturdy poles which surrounded the pod site.
‘Why do you say that, Mr La Forge,’ captain Picard’s voice asked him through the communicator.
‘Well, for one thing,’ Jordie said as he swept the area yet again with his tricorder, ‘we’re picking up traces of the most unconventional matter I’ve ever seen. I don’t know whether this is the result of some incredibly advanced technology, or whether it’s the residue of an organism that came from some exotic region of space, but the arrangement of subatomic particles is like nothing I’ve ever seen.’
‘She did say that it’s many billions of years old,’ the captain told him. ‘Perhaps this is some type of early matter.’
‘There is that possibility,’ the chief engineer agreed. ‘The earliest matter formed at a time when the universe was extremely hot, which means that the conditions were right for putting together combinations of subatomic particles that were very different from what we know today. But if that’s right, we’re going to have a hell of a time getting a handle on this thing. It could be so different that we’ll never begin to hope to understand it.’

Captain Jean Luc Picard felt an ugly knot forming in the pit of his stomach as he switched off the intercom, left his chair, and moved to stand before the window of his quarters to think. An ancient life form or form of technology . . . perhaps both, perhaps neither. In all his years in space there was little he’d come across that had struck his senses as being truly alien. There was always something common or familiar to be found, even if it was a civilisation whose languages and thought patterns baffled even the most intelligent and experienced linguists. There were still commonalities such as language, civilisation, intelligence, beings that were recognisable as such.
But this might be something that pushed the boundaries of what was knowable and recognisable and identifiable to the limit. It was quite possibly a rare encounter with something that was truly alien, in ways that went beyond the bounds of everything that was known.
Why, then, did he have such a bad feeling about this? Why did he feel threatened instead of challenged? Worried instead of curious? Deep-rooted angst instead of wonder?
With more force than was necessary, he punched the intercom. ‘Mr Data, have the senior staff meet me in the ready room right away, and bring the Romulan. We need to know everything she does.’
‘Aye, sir.’
Waiting before the window, he studied the black reaches of space and wondered why, for the first time, he felt its black emptiness yawning like impending death.

When everyone was assembled, captain Picard addressed Mr Data directly. ‘I’m told you found the artifact with little trouble. Why is it not yet contained and aboard this ship?’
The android’s yellow eyes held his own. ‘Locating the artifact is not the problem. Containing it is another matter entirely.’
‘Explain,’ the captain responded.
‘I will attempt to do so,’ the android said, still holding his gaze, ‘but we’ve encountered a problem, although based upon what Lt Raya has told us, this was to be expected.
‘The artifact is like nothing we’ve ever encountered. We are treating it as though it were a life form but its behaviour could just as easily be explained by some form of alien technology, or an entirely unknown type of physics unique to whatever the artifact is.’
The captain had asked Mr Data because he was hoping for answers less dissatisfying than those given by Lt Raya and Mr La Forge. ‘All right. Mr La Forge, have you learned anything new about the artifact?’
Geordi made a frustrated sound. ‘We still don’t know anything about it, and I mean anything  I mean . . . have you seen it yet?’
The captain shook his head.
‘Well, it’s grey,’ Geordi continued as though the word grey was somehow offensive, ‘and that’s about all I can tell you. ‘Other than that, it changes shape and moves pretty much where it wants to. At Lt Raya’s suggestion we were finally able to corner it by creating a mini-holo-deck and boxing it in, but we don’t know why it’s staying there, and if it decides to go somewhere, we don’t have a hope in hell of stopping it.’
‘The artifact seems able to pass through conventional matter at will,’ Data said, ‘and the manner in which it does so is disturbing, to say the least.’
‘One of our engineers told me that it can penetrate solid rock,’ Commander Riker said. ‘He said it was like watching a miniature juggernaut at work, that it simply punched its way through solid rock like an icepick through a block of cheese.’
‘Except there was a lot of noise and smoke and heat generated,’ Geordi grumbled. ‘We thought at first that it was burning a path through solid rock, but it was actually pushing its way through.’
‘And yet you say this thing seems to have no physical weight,’ Deanna Troi put in, her brows knitted, trying to understand, ‘and expends and emits no energy. How can that be if the rest of it was able to destroy three starships and pass through a force barrier?’
Geordi shrugged. ‘The stuff this thing is made of is somehow able to put out more energy that is allowed for its mass. Conventional mass,’ he explained, ‘can be converted directly into a measurable amount of energy. But the rules don’t seem to apply, here. I think Raya’s right, that this thing is so far out of our experience that we don’t even know the right questions to ask.’
‘Why don’t we start with what we do know,’ the captain said. From his tone it was neither a question nor a suggestion. ‘For instance, we do know that it’s grey, which in itself seems to be a matter of some contention.’
‘Right, well . . .’ Mr La Forge began, ‘it only appears grey to us because it doesn’t reflect conventional light the way it would its own . . . what passes for light, or passed for light, in its original environment.
‘You get the same thing if you, say, put a bird’s feather underneath a microscope. Everything the microscope sees appears grey because colour doesn’t take magnification into account.’
‘In other words,’ Dr Crusher put in, ‘we see green because light bounces off something containing minute bits of stuff that’s the same physical length as a given light wavelength, say, for the colour green. With a bird’s feather, the light is bouncing off filaments which reflect colours that match their length. But what I’m not getting is why this thing only appears grey to us. Surely there must be corresponding bits of it to match light wavelengths.’
‘Which is assuming that light is able to interact with it in ways we understand,’ Data told her. ‘Perhaps we should rephrase what we mean by saying that we “see” this artifact. I do not believe that we are actually seeing it. I think what we are seeing is the lack of something.’
‘Coming from you, Mr Data,’ the captain said with a slight smile, ‘I would call that “being philosophical”.’
Before the android’s positronic brain could puzzle that out, Lt Worf interjected, ‘I am not satisfied that we understand the nature of the danger this artifact represents. It responded when threatened, despite the likelihood that the ability to damage it was beyond Romulan technology.’ He eyed Lt Raya as though challenging her to deny this. Getting no response, he added, speaking to her, ‘The Romulans clearly understood this thing to pose a threat, otherwise why try to intercept it or attempt to alter its course?’ All eyes turned to Lt Raya as he said this, sensing the truth of his words.
‘Is there anything you’re not telling us?’ captain Picard demanded.
The Romulan woman raised an eyebrow at that. ‘I assume you’re referring to the artifact? As far as that goes, I have told you what seems most pertinent to the present situation.’
‘Then I suggest you tell us the rest, even if it does not seem pertinent,’ the captain told her in an icy tone.
She hesitated, fractionally. ‘Very well. What would you know? That all attempts to discover the artifact’s secrets met with failure-?’
‘Did those attempts meet with any loss of life?’ the captain cut her off.
Not looking at him, she replied in an odd tone, ‘No, there has been no loss of life.’
Wondering if he was making a mistake, the captain decided not to pursue this line of questioning, and instead asked, ‘What tests were conducted? And did you witness any of them?’
‘All the standard tests demanded by our physicists were used to attempt to examine the artifact, all to no avail. What little they discovered is what you already know: that it is not comprised of conventional matter, that it does not adhere to any conventional dimensionality-’
‘Whoa, stop right there ’ Geordi interrupted. ‘No one said anything about dimensionality, conventional or otherwise.’
‘I stand corrected,’ the Romulan responded with thinly veiled sarcasm. ‘I would have thought your famous team of Starfleet scientists would have looked into that already.’
‘We’ve barely got the damned thing contained ’ Mr La Forge shot back, his temper flaring at her jibe. ‘It’s not exactly in the best situation for conducting tests of any kind ’
‘What do you know about the artifact’s dimensionality,’ the captain asked Raya quietly, instantly and pointedly resetting the mood to calm.
‘Only that it is not as we see it,’ she responded. ‘I suspect that only part of it, or certain aspects of it, present themselves within our dimension.’
‘That would explain why it appears flat, no matter what angle you’re looking at it,’ Geordi said. ‘I thought it was just something to do with my visor.’
‘Could it be a two-dimensional object?’ Will Riker queried.
‘That is a distinct possibility,’ Data put in, ‘given the nature of the early universe. But,’ he added, ‘there are any number of other possible explanations, including any number of dimensional possibilities-’
They were interrupted by an urgent hail. ‘Bridge to captain Picard ’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Sir, the artifact has breached its containment and is on the move, fast, and is heading for open space ’
‘Lay in a pursuit course and get us under way ’ the captain ordered, rising and breaking up the meeting. ‘Don’t let it out of your sight ’

‘Where is it headed?’ the captain demanded as he took the command chair.
‘Out of Federation space,’ the young officer said, unable to conceal her relief. ‘And we’ve just been informed that the rest of the artifact is now through Federation space and heading for deep space as well.’
The captain hesitated only fractionally. ‘Until we understand what we’re dealing with, we’re going to pursue this thing and attempt to unlock its secrets. It may be benign, but it may also cause harm which would be on our heads, within the Federation or without.’ There was palpable disappointment at the thought of going after the artifact but the captain ignored it, saying, ‘Mr Data, where is the artifact headed?’
The android frowned as he scanned his instruments. ‘It doesn’t appear that the artifact has set itself any particular objective. It seems to be doing nothing more than heading for deep space, and it will be a good many light years before it comes even remotely close to any system.’
‘Can we alter its course?’
Uncharacteristically, the android frowned. ‘It is theoretically possible, although there may be a fair amount of risk involved.’
‘Would you care to elaborate?’
‘As you know, the ship’s propulsion system works by warping space,’ Data said. ‘The object is small enough that, if we were to draw alongside, close enough to one of our warp nacelles, we should be able to curve the space through which it’s heading and alter its course.’
‘Splendid ’ the captain applauded, relieved. ‘What is the nearest class “M” planet which lies somewhat close to our present heading?’
Data checked his instruments. ‘It appears that there is only one, sir,’ the android responded, ‘but it seems that access to it is somewhat restricted.’
The captain frowned. ‘Restricted by whom?’
The android turned to face him. ‘By its owner; one Linus Seagram.’
‘Of the Rothman financial empire?’ Commander Riker blurted. ‘That Linus Seagram?’
‘That would be the one, sir,’ Data responded.
‘What is it, Will?’ the captain asked him.
‘Linus Seagram is said to be something of a recluse, although buying your own planet out in deep space is a little extreme in my opinion. But knowing how the Seagram’s made their fortune, he’s probably up to something illegal, which would explain why he would allow only limited access.’
The captain slumped in his chair, feeling railroaded. ‘Call ahead, Mr Worf. Advise Mr Seagram that he’s about to have guests.’
‘Aye, sir.’

They arrived at Linus Seagram’s world a week later and watched as the artifact decelerated, entered the atmosphere, and eventually came to a stop on the planet below.
‘Any official word yet from our host?’ captain Picard asked Mr Worf.
‘No sir. Just the same prerecorded message asking us to announce our arrival, and that he will contact us as soon as he’s able.’
‘Very well, Mr Worf. Go ahead and ring the doorbell to the mansion.’
The big Klingon gave him a sour look, and muttered, ‘Aye, sir.’

Chapter 2

Linus Seagram did not appear receptive to the prospect of receiving guests. He eyed the six Starfleet officers balefully as they materialised out of the transporter beam, as he paused from directing his robotic work-force which was sorting cut stone taken from a nearby outcrop. He was a stern-looking man of medium height and build with short black hair, and was physically rock-solid with a look that attested to a life of hard labour rather than working out.
The six Starfleet officers didn’t notice at first, however, because they were looking about in wonder. To the south stood a work in progress, a magnificent long stone building four storeys tall and shaped like an “H” that looked to be a Gothic palace. A rail ran from a tunnel which issued from a stone outcropping to the north to the front of the palatial building and beyond. The palace grounds were surrounded at a fair distance by a massive stone wall than met the stone outcropping in a semicircle running from a point north-west to a point south-east. To the north lay a stone outcropping or hill which ran as far as the eye could see from north-west to south-east. Due north from their position, and just to the left, was the tunnel entrance. Five-hundred metres to the right of this was a huge double wooden door built right into the native rock; to the right of this was a small window, a massive chimney, another small window, a long vertical line of glass running high up the outcropping, and to its right a churning stream which issued from the grass plain which lay at the top of the outcropping.
‘I’ve got that thing of yours boxed in,’ Seagram said without preamble. ‘I’d like you to pack it up and leave here as soon as possible.’
Captain Picard, Geordi La Forge, Deanna Troi, Mr Worf, Will Riker and Mr Data stared. ‘You’ve already managed to confine it?’ the captain said in surprise.
‘The locals have it surrounded,’ he replied cryptically.
‘Locals,’ Worf echoed suspiciously. ‘We detected only three humanoid life-forms in this area.’
‘Ah, bipedal arrogance,’ Seagram said, though without sarcasm. ‘If it thinks, it must walk around on two legs.’
‘We detected no sentient beings in this area,’ Data said, frowning.
Seagram turned to a curious-looking animal, a thickset creature the size of a small dog, orange-cinnamon coloured with light areas and darker stripes. The creature had ears, a nose and a mouth. But it had no eyes.
‘Bite ‘em, Sunshine,’ Seagram said, not seriously. In response the little animal uttered a curious chirruping, trilling sound. ‘Yeah, I’m not sure I like them either.’
‘Fascinating,’ Data said, engrossed with the creature. ‘I have heard that many of the indigenous life-forms on this planet have sensory capabilities other than sight.’
‘Oh, they can see all right,’ Seagram told him, finishing a short inventory of various pieces of stone and sending it on its way. ‘Far better than we can, in fact- don’t do that ’ Data had been about to scan the creature using his tricorder, but Seagram stopped him just short of turning the device on. ‘The frequencies put out by those things play havoc with their sensory apparatus,’ he explained. ‘Don’t ever use sensor equipment around them, and especially do not ever discharge weapons like phasers. They’re incredibly sensitive to certain types of energy, and trust me- you do not want to make them angry.’ As he said this, two more people beamed down- Dr Crusher and Raya. ‘Hey  Sunshine ’ He watched in surprise as the little animal bounded over to Lt Raya, reared up on its hind feet, and began pawing at her leg.
Without thinking, Raya knelt down and picked it up.
‘I’ll be damned,’ Seagram muttered. ‘He’s normally very cagey around people.’
‘He purrs ’ Raya exclaimed, causing captain Picard to suppress a small smile.
Changing the subject, the captain said, ‘Who are these others, who have managed to contain the artifact?’
Seagram appeared to be finished with what he was doing, and said, ‘Oh-h-h, they’re like Sunshine here. And not.’
‘Meaning?’ Picard rejoined.
‘You’ll see,’ Seagram said enigmatically. ‘Anyway, I’ll take you to where they’re holding it, now. C’mon . . . I’ve got some landriders parked in the underground.’

The Federation team followed Seagram to the big wooden double doors. He hauled one side to the right, rolling it on wheels so that it disappeared into a space cut right into the rock at the base of the stone outcropping. He closed the door behind them once they entered, they followed him to the left, and left again down a wide metal staircase, and then the Federation team stopped and gasped in surprise.
‘Just how big is this place?’ Geordi exclaimed. They were in a vast underground garage filled with various types of equipment, from earth-moving machines to transports to various types of air and space craft.
‘I had this area filled in,’ Seagram told them. ‘It’s really a shallow valley that goes on for about half a kilometre, right where the wall begins. This area here is for machinery, and on the left side, the upper floor is one big grow-up for vegetables and vat-grown muscle-tissue-’
‘Humane meat,’ Dr Crusher interjected approvingly. ‘The only kind I’ll eat, unless it comes out of a replicator.’
At the mention of replicator food, Seagram winced. ‘Anyway, underneath the grow-op are the manufacturing levels. Here, we’ll use this one. It’s the only one that’s been driven so far.’ He led them to a landrider, a heavy transport with two-metre-tall tires, an empty space in back with two large doors at the rear and small doors to either side, and a huge cab space in front with a driver’s seat in the middle, and bench seats to either side and behind it. With an electric whine, the machine started up instantly. Seagram backed it out, wheeled it around, and they were on their way.

As they waited for an automatic ramp to lower itself, Seagram said, ‘This is kind of an abuse of a very useful industrial vehicle, but I just love driving this thing. The back is for equipment and stuff, and the front is for the work crew. Once the crews arrive, it’ll have more of a lived-in look.’ He chuckled. ‘I doubt it’ll ever be so clean inside again.’
He gunned the landrider forward as soon as the ramp was lowered. In an instant they were out on the plain, heading for a gate in the wall. He pressed an overhead button and the gate opened before them. Just as they were passing through, he pressed another overhead button to close it, and they were afforded their first view of the open plain.
‘It looks a bit like the African savannah,’ Dr Crusher commented.
‘It does, a bit,’ Seagram agreed a bit morosely. ‘When I first arrived here the animal populations were in very rough shape.’
‘How can that be?’ Geordi asked him. ‘This place looks like there hasn’t been any human interference.’
‘Unlike Earth,’ Seagram told him, ‘things are very stable, which doesn’t drive the engine of evolution forward at a furious pace. When I first came here part of the animal habitat picture was coming to an end. There were once huge caves all over the place that the animals made use of in order to survive the winters. But the hills are all made of stone, so as they eroded away the animals were unable to dig themselves new homes, and every winter their numbers had been falling, to the point that there weren’t all that many left.’
‘You’ve been making new caves for them,’ captain Picard anticipated, his tone a mixture of respect and admonition.
‘Oh-h-h,’ Seagram responded with an enigmatic smile, ‘I interfered a lot more than that.’

Within a few minutes they came in sight of the coast. Seagram was following a road that was obviously of his own making: the shallow tire ruts of his own vehicle which had apparently made this journey often over a period of time. They were soon travelling north west in a line parallel to the high stone outcrop, which itself ran from northwest to southeast as far as the eye could see. Eventually they came to a man-made incline at a low point in the stone outcropping, surged upwards with a gravel-spitting roar . . . and then they were on the vast expanses of the upper plain.
While the others were drinking in this spectacular sight, turning often in their seats and craning their heads in order to get a look at the ocean to the west, Deanna Troi’s attention was consumed by the eyeless little animal perched on Raya’s lap, his front paws on the dashboard, gazing ahead, apparently able to see.
‘This creature is sentient ’ she exclaimed, catching the Federation team off-guard. ‘I’m sure he understands a good deal of what we’re saying ’ She looked to Seagram who was smiling broadly. ‘But you already know this.’
Seagram said nothing.

Within the hour they had entered a new region, of rolling hills and thickets, and the occasional stand of massive tree-like plants of the same type that lay to the south of the wall. Soon they were at the border of a tall forest and drawing towards an apparently dry vale. At the lowest point, in the middle, was an extraordinary sight.
‘They look like little Sunshine . . . only much bigger ’ Deanna exclaimed. ‘What on earth are they doing?’
‘They’re doing exactly what it looks like they’re doing,’ Seagram told her. ‘Sitting in a circle, blocking that artifact of yours from getting away.’
‘Astonishing,’ Data said with more emotion than he believed himself capable of.
Captain Picard raised an eyebrow. ‘The question, however, is what we’re going to do now. We still don’t know how we’re going to contain it.’
‘My understanding is that you had it contained before,’ Seagram said sourly.
‘My people did have it contained before,’ Raya said, her gazed fixed on the strange sight before them, ‘but it was a matter of trial and error and accident. We’re still not sure how the feat was accomplished.’
Seagram sighed, considering. ‘Well . . . for now, let’s get it to my lab.’ He rose from his seat.
‘How do you intend getting it there?’ Data asked him.
‘I don’t,’ Seagram shot back. ‘I intend to let others do it for me.’

The others watched in silent wonder as Seagram approached the circle of animals with easy familiarity and seemed almost to converse with them. Within moments the entire group was moving towards the rear of the vehicle, herding the artifact which remained in their midst. Worf and Geordi assisted by opening the rear doors and laying a ramp which slid out from underneath the rear of the vehicle. The suspension system groaned under the weight of the seven animals, each of which was from four to five feet at the shoulder. In the meantime, as the were loaded in and ready to get under way once more, some of the Federation team got their first look at the artifact.
‘It really does look flat, no matter which side you look at it from,’ Dr Crusher remarked. ‘It looks like nothing more than a sort of flat, grey hole.’ The shape of the artifact was changeable, and at the moment was roughly vertical and ovoid, about twenty-four inches tall by eleven wide.
‘This is part of what destroyed three of my people’s most powerful ships and their crews,’ Raya reminded them.
‘Has anyone physically touched it?’ Data asked her absently, staring intently at the animal-encircled object.
Raya gave him a sharp look, but said nothing.

Worf spent much of the ride back admiring the animals guarding the artifact. At one point he said to Seagram, ‘They are magnificent. They have the look of warriors.’
Seagram smiled somewhat privately to himself at that. ‘You’re right, they are magnificent, and they are warriors in the truest sense.’
‘How do they see?’ Worf asked him.
Picard felt the man wouldn’t answer such a question, but to his surprise, perhaps because Worf’s innocent curiosity aroused something akin in himself, he replied, ‘They have a number of sensory organs in their heads that are like sensors, some of them active, some of them passive, and they can control which are active, at will. This is because their active sensors give them away, both to one another and to other creatures that have a similar sensory apparatus. Their active sensory system probably developed from living in caves where there is no light.’
‘So they can literally see in the dark,’ Dr Crusher put in, genuinely fascinated. ‘How do their sensors work? Is it echolocation, or something different?’
‘There are several sets of sensors,’ Seagram told her, ‘and several organs that may be sensors which I haven’t figured out yet. They work on a number of principles, some of them bioelectromagnetic, some of them bioelectric, some of them to do with ultrasound, and several of them to do with senses I can’t identify.
‘Even their “normal” senses differ from ours. They have a directional sense of smell, spatial senses of orientation and hearing, a directional sense that can tell them exactly where they are on this planet at all times, a highly attuned sense of time which I’m only beginning to understand, and a distal hearing sense that can exactly pinpoint a sound’s point of origin.
‘There’s one thing to remember, above all else,’ he said, raising his voice for everyone’s benefit. ‘They’re incredibly, I would say painfully sensitive to many technological devices such as certain types of sensors and weapons. Before I purchased this planet and moved here, this planet was a haven for wack-jobs from all over, who used to pay big money to go on safaris and try to hunt these creatures. They’d kill one now and then, but most of the time the mighty hunters ended up becoming the hunted, especially when they discharged hi-tech weaponry. A phaser or disruptor discharge will drive these guys into a killing frenzy, as will a tricorder.’
‘How do you protect yourself?’ Will Riker asked him.
‘All equipment that comes here, like these landriders for example, are rebuilt using shielded parts,’ Seagram told him. ‘I won’t have these guys hurt.’ He tousled Sunshine’s head, affectionately. The little animal was half-asleep in Raya’s lap. Afterward, Lt Raya looked askance at Seagram, and it was difficult to tell what she was thinking.

Seagram sighed as he drove the vehicle into its stall, as though he’d enjoyed himself. He climbed out of the vehicle, opened the back, waited for the big animals to herd the artifact out into the underground motor pool, then led the way to a door in the south east wall. This opened into a wide stairwell, and they descended two floors, walked south through a large assembly area, came to another door, then passed through this into a darkened science centre. The lights flickered on automatically as they entered, and Seagram led them to an area replete with scientific equipment.
‘Wow ’ Geordi breathed. ‘You have some nice toys ’
‘Yes, well, they’re all yours,’ Seagram replied. ‘So if you’d like to get to work, I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got a lot to do, so the sooner you get that thing packed and crated and out of here, the better-’
‘Linus Seagram, that is no way for you to speak to your guests ’ Everyone turned in surprise as a wiry little old woman followed them in. One of the animals went straight to her, accepting the stroking of its big muzzle with something like humour in its mien.
Raya stared. The elderly woman was Romulan
The woman, in her turn, studied Raya with great interest. ‘Linus, why didn’t you tell me someone was here from the home world?’
Seagram’s eyes widened. ‘You’re Romulan? Being with the Federation, I assumed you were Vulcan.’
‘Anyway, soup’s on ’ the elderly woman announced in a tone which brooked no compromise, and began heading out. ‘Linus, bring your guests. It’s past mid-day, and you at least haven’t eaten yet.’
Linus Seagram smiled sheepishly, shrugged, and followed in her wake.

‘Who is . . .?’ Riker nodded towards the elderly woman as he walked with Seagram.
Seagram smiled, broadly. ‘I call her “Mom” because all the young guys used to call her that who came into her restaurant. It was really tough on her when she retired, and I asked her and her husband to come here with me when I moved here. They’re helping me with the planning, and to tell the truth . . .’ he chuckled, ‘she practically runs things.’
Raya followed behind them, carrying the now-sleeping Sunshine in her arms. She noted that the seven large creatures were herding the artifact in their wake, but that Seagram seemed to be taking little notice.
They eventually reached their point of entry- the two wooden doors set into the base of the stone promontory- went past this point to a door, then passed through this into what was obviously Seagram’s living-quarters. To their immediate right was a raised area with table and chairs set before the window they’d seen from the outside. Below this to the right was another table and chairs and a kitchen area. To the left was an old-fashioned cast iron hearth complete with cast-iron utensils for cooking, and to the left of this was a leviathan of a cast-iron wood furnace. To the left of this was an elevated bed before the other window, set between the great furnace and the wall, and under the bed was a rack full of eight-foot-long wooden logs, each of them easily a foot thick. To the north was one large room with a floor that was terraced towards the back, and to the east was a semitransparent wall with two doors in it. The one to the right, Seagram told them, led to a room with washing, lavatory and bathing facilities, and the one to the left led to the stream at the base of a waterfall. The area high above this was covered by glass, all the way up the side of the stone promontory, so that the water egressed through a portal leading outside.
Captain Picard was oblivious to all of this, however, as he met- and recognised- the old woman’s husband. ‘General Dalz.’ He inclined his head politely. ‘Which would make your wife  Anala, if I remember correctly.’
‘You have a good memory,’ the old Romulan said, adding, ‘Relax, captain Picard. My profession put me out to pasture a good long while ago.’
‘I heard you got something of a raw deal,’ Riker said sourly. ‘Yes, I know who you are. Many of the Federation elders thought very highly of you, even though we were on opposite sides.’
‘Many Klingons remember you with honour as well,’ Worf put in. ‘Your battle tactics are required learning.’
‘Enough talk ’ the old lady interrupted. ‘Sit and eat, and then you can talk to your heart’s content. You,’ she said, intercepting Raya, must sit with me down here and share news of the home world  I’ve been starved for gossip for several months ’

‘You are a complete fraud,’ Beverly Crusher said to Seagram with a broad smile. ‘Anala has you wrapped around her little finger.’
Linus Seagram and the retired general shared a look at that. Dalz said, ‘Anala is a force to be reckoned with, for which I am very thankful. Without her, life would have been rather dull.’
They were seated at the table before the window and rose now and then to sample a number of dishes from a tiered rack set at the head of the table.
‘I can see why she used to run a restaurant,’ Deanna said appreciatively. ‘Everything is exquisite ’
‘The food was not the reason her restaurant was successful,’ Dalz confided with a meaningful glance at Seagram.
Taking his cue, Linus Seagram said, ‘I got to know pilots in the Romulan military because I bought a number of Maltran transports and used to bring them in myself to be serviced.’
‘Those are darned good ships ’ Geordi said with a heartfelt engineers empathy. ‘I wish we made them ourselves.’
‘They are, and that’s why I bought them,’ Seagram continued. ‘Anyway, the main repair depot is at Velanar spaceport, and the place to eat, I was told, was a restaurant several blocks away in a kind of seedy, rough area. The food was great, I was told, but that’s not why the guys were going there. They were going there because of Anala.’
He smiled to himself, remembering. ‘When I walked in through the front door with two friends of mine, she was berating a table full of cadets, treating them like kids. And they just loved her for it. They’d help her around the place, keep the riff-raff out of the neighbourhood, keep an eye on the place around the clock, and come into her place whenever they were in port.
‘She had lots of old regulars, too, a lot of them higher-ups who came in for news and for her company. And especially for her advice and for her connections. She had a way of knowing everyone who counted.’ Seagram smiled to himself. ‘I can see that a lot of this is lost on you. You have to know Romulus and the military regime there in order to know how this fits in, in its proper context.’
‘I ate in that restaurant a few times disguised as a Romulan,’ Picard confessed, drawing all eyes to himself. ‘It was a secret mission that was not subversive in any way,’ Jean Luc said to Dalz, whose eyes had hardened. ‘I was not there to spy.’
Dalz sighed, the heat went out of him. ‘I shouldn’t care, regardless. I came here because of my dissatisfaction.’
‘That’s quite a palace you’re building,’ Riker remarked to change the subject. ‘I suppose you’re going to move into it when it’s finished?’
Seagram’s reply was a baffled look.
Riker nodded to the ornate building outside. ‘It’s kind of hard to miss.’
‘Oh, that ’ Seagram said, shaking his head. ‘The retirement hospital.’
Picard gave him a look. ‘Retirement hospital?’
Seagram sighed, realising replying meant opening a big subject. Trying to keep it simple, he responded, ‘The reason for this place is twofold: the wildlife and retired Romulan military people. Threefold, come to think of it. Romulan colonists, too.’
‘Why military retirees?’ Dr Crusher asked him, frowning.
Seagram and Dalz shared a meaning look. ‘Crappy pensions,’ Seagram answered, ‘crappy health-care, crappy living conditions, crappy . . . pretty much everything.’
They were joined by Mr Data, who had been making a cursory study of the artifact.
‘Yes, Mr Data?’ captain Picard said. ‘Have you found out anything?’
‘Perhaps,’ Data responded. ‘I think the animals may know what the artifact is.’

‘Data, what makes you think they know what the artifact is?’ Geordi queried as later on they mixed with the creatures gather around the artifact.
‘The old one was somehow able to modulate it,’ the android replied. ‘I think he used his sensory apparatus to interconnect with it.’
As though this were her cue, the elderly creature positioned itself before the artifact. They thought at first the creature was bowing its head, but soon realised that it was aligning the sensory organs in its head so that they faced the ancient artifact vertically. In response the artifact wavered, began to change colour.’
‘Whoa  Guys, are you seeing this?’ Geordi breathed.
Commander Riker gave him a sardonic look. ‘I doubt it. Your visor is probably picking up a lot of stuff we can’t see.’
‘Then I’ll tell you what I see,’ La Forge said excitedly. ‘It’s like a window into . . . I guess this is the past. It’s some sort of time bubble. No, wait ’ He shifted his position, sidling around the artifact for another view. ‘What the hell? It shifts when I move . . . kind of like a prism. I think these are other dimensions or . . . maybe other worlds? Or maybe the same world at vastly different times? But no . . . from this angle I’m seeing stuff I can’t make sense of. And from here . . . you’re not going to believe this ’ He turned around to look behind himself, apparently seeing nothing. ‘From here I’m seeing all of us standing here, but from behind, right about over there.’
‘I am going to touch it-’ Data began, but was cut off, both by the creatures which simultaneously chuffed a warning, and by Raya who blurted, ‘Do not ’
‘I only intend to place my hand within it in order to see if my sensors will interact with it. Perhaps I can attune my neural network-’
‘You will learn nothing ’ Raya said with a ferocity that took the others aback.
Data gave her a look. ‘You yourself have touched it. I know this because my positronic brain reacts somewhat to its unique energy signature, some of which is on you.’
‘So that’s what I’m seeing when I look at you,’ Geordi said to her. ‘There’s an odd aura around you. It’s so faint that I thought my visor was seeing things. You’ve actually handled this thing  Why didn’t you tell us before-?’ Sudden realisation brought him up short. ‘No . . . you’ve done more than touch it. The emanations I’m seeing are all over you. You’ve been inside this thing ’
‘I have ’ she shot back, ‘and I am telling you, do not touch it  You have no idea what will happen to you ’
‘They why don’t you enlighten us?’ Riker said sarcastically.
To everyone’s surprise, Deanna Troi came to the young Romulan woman’s defence. ‘She knows what she’s talking about. There’s very real danger here. She’s telling you the truth.’
‘Raya, what happened to you when you went inside it?’ captain Picard asked her quietly.
In response she shuddered reflexively, hugging herself, not as though for warmth, but in order to keep her personal demons locked inside. ‘It almost broke my mind. I was overwhelmed with what may have been illusions, or reality, or the past . . . I do not know which. All I can tell you is that it was like being inside a monitor and being at the mercy of what it shows, that the workings of that monitor are something else entirely.’
‘I have no emotional frailties to protect,’ Data said seriously. ‘Perhaps I will not be affected in the same manner.’
‘Nevertheless,’ captain Picard said, ‘the risk is not worth it. From what Lt Raya is saying, even if you make the attempt successfully, you will not learning anything that will be of use to us.’
‘I would still like to make the attempt,’ Data persisted, ‘if only to satisfy my curiosity.’
‘You know what happened to the cat,’ Geordi told him meaningly.
Data looked up in alarm. ‘Has something happened to Spot?’
Geordi patted him on the shoulder with a sardonic smile. ‘Spot’s just fine. It’s you we’ve got to keep an eye on.’

By evening the artifact was back in the science lab under the watchful presence of the seven sentient creatures.
‘I still can’t get a handle on how they’re able to hold it here,’ Geordi said to Seagram in frustration as they shut things down for the evening.
‘There’s obviously some sort of intent involved,’ Seagram replied, ‘otherwise its movements would be entirely random. It’s not sitting out in space, or a mile up in the air, or ten miles underground. It came down here to the surface, and from what you’ve told me it has a habit of doing that. It probably wants to be found and accessed by sentient beings.’
‘Wanting suggests conscious intent,’ Deanna Troi said. ‘Do you think it’s alive? I detect no consciousness in it, although the fact that I feel nothing at all from it may not mean anything.’
‘When I was inside it,’ Raya said quietly, ‘I received the impression that it is a made thing, a product of a civilisation so advanced that it transcends what we term “technology”. I do not think it has one type of function or one intended purpose. I think it represents the culmination of some lost civilisation’s overall progress and was at the heart of what their civilisation was, in the same manner that computer technology is so pervasive in ours.’
‘Did you get any sense of that civilisation’s beings?’ captain Picard ask her suddenly on an intuition.
She raised an eyebrow at that. ‘None.’ She considered him a moment. ‘That is strange, isn’t it.’ It was a statement. ‘There was no sense of civilisation or beings at all. Nor intelligence nor intent nor a guiding consciousness. No sense  . . .’ she sought for words, ‘that a conscious mind was involved at all.’
‘A machine, perhaps?’ Data asked.
Raya shook her head, thoughtful. ‘You mean like a machine intelligence? No, this is something else. Something I cannot find words to.’
‘Except that it makes you afraid,’ Deanna Troi said quietly.
Raya gave her a sharp, angry look, but seeing unassuming sympathy in the empath’s eyes soon dissolved her anger. ‘There is something to fear, here,’ she said seriously. ‘Something elusive, on the edge of consciousness, on the border of reason . . .’ she looked around as though her surroundings had become untrustworthy, ‘on the periphery of an existence we think to be known and familiar.’
Changing the subject, Seagram interjected, ‘I think we need to know more about where this thing was found. You say it was buried deep within part of what used to be a planet? Did your scientists determine how it came to be buried? I mean, did it appear to have been buried deliberately, or was it some ancient thing that just got covered over by the passage of time?’
‘It was found within some ancient ruins,’ she told him. ‘It appeared to have been buried deliberately and to have been guarded for aeons.’
All eyes turned to the artifact at that.
‘Well, that’s just great ’ Seagram said with a sarcastic laugh. ‘Hell has been relocated to my home and the front door has been left wide open.’

Chapter 3

‘Based on this evidence,’ Data said mere moments after the scientific information on the artifact had been downloaded from Romulus into the Enterprise computer and from there to his positronic brain, ‘we are dealing with two entirely separate matters: the artifact and the ancient civilisation that buried it.’
‘How do you mean, “separate”?’ Raya queried.
‘What I mean is that the ancient civilisation responsible for the ruins was not also responsible for the creation of the artifact. The capability was clearly beyond them. So much so, in fact, that they would have viewed the artifact as having magical properties. I’m guessing here, but I think it probable that the artifact dates from a time long before.’
‘How long before?’ the captain asked him.
Data considered the matter a full moment, which was far longer than normal for him. ‘I would say that it belongs to a stellar event prior to the one to which the original planet belonged.’
‘Wait, you’re saying two stellar generations ago?’ Geordi asked incredulously.
‘That is what I am saying, at the very least,’ Data told him, ‘that the artifact may in fact date from the time of the earliest stars, which would make it even older still.
‘My thinking has been running along those lines since I began working on a series of mathematical models which might explain the type of matter of which the artifact consists. Assuming a stellar event is involved, it would have to be the earliest one when the universe was still very hot: that is, hot enough to allow for quarks in a free state. No other answer is possible when speaking of non-standard arrangements of subatomic particles, unless we were dealing with an incredibly advanced civilisation, which doesn’t seem to be the case.’
‘So this may not be a technological phenomenon at all,’ Seagram muttered, half to himself.
‘Correct,’ Data agreed.
‘Then why do I still have such a bad feeling about this?’
To the others’ surprise, Data gave Seagram’s sense of foreboding serious consideration. ‘It may represent an event as profound as life itself, yet wholly different,’ Data said. ‘If I am correct, I believe the artifact may represent a period in time when something other than life evolved; something that is far more complex.’
Captain Picard shook his head. ‘Mr Data, I’m not sure I’m following you. You say “evolved” as though we’re dealing with a living thing, yet you say we may be dealing with something other than life.’
‘One can not infer that evolution applies only to living things,’ Data told him.
‘Well, if it’s not alive, then what is it?’ Geordi asked him.
‘I believe it is a highly organised, self-contained process,’ Data said. ‘Like life, it is one of staggering complexity. Unlike life, it is a state of existence, from a time when differentiation as we know it did not yet exist.’
‘I need a break,’ Seagram announced. ‘This is making my brain hurt.’

Something about the construction of and around the edifice Picard and his shipmates had dubbed the “palace” prompted him to say to Dalz, as they sat together by the window sipping the Romulan version of coffee, ‘There are landing bays for six of the old type of Romulan War Birds. I didn’t know they were still in use.’
‘Officially they’re not,’ Dalz replied with a thin smile. ‘Some of my associates and I appropriated them after they were decommissioned, seeing that none of them had been stripped for parts because they were considered so out of date. They’re cramped, they’re stuffy, they’re either too hot or too cold, and the air in them is not good, but us old-timers love them nonetheless.’
Picard chuckled at that. ‘That sounds very much like the attitude of Earth’s early submariners. They used to say that they didn’t trust air they couldn’t see.’
Dalz sighed and gazed out the window. ‘The old retirees like me who have been put out to pasture will love it here.’ He smiled and shook his head ruefully. ‘Young Seagram plans to make us work for our trouble.’ Into the question in Picard’s mien, he said, ‘A result of the Empire’s many expansion pushes resulted in a good many colonies scattered far and wide. Many were begun purely for strategic reasons and have languished ever since. Seagram plans to bring them here to begin anew.’
‘If you don’t mind my asking,’ Picard said, ‘what is this attachment Seagram has for things Romulan?’
Dalz shrugged fractionally, a complex gesture in Romulan terms. ‘You’re thinking that as a member of the rich, spoiled leisure class, that he should share their predilection for frivolous, selfish self-indulgence? In his case he turned his back on his family at a young age and struck out on his own. Pure chance found him assisting an old Romulan trader for food and passage only. That old trader happened to be one of my late cousins, and through me Seagram drifted into the Romulan military for a time, a hard life that he genuinely loved.
‘Meanwhile, greed, excess and well-earned misfortune took its toll on his family, until one day he was notified that he would be receiving their whole entire excessive fortune. He quit the military and has been a very busy man ever since. I daresay he has done far more work since coming here than the rest of his family combined had done in their entire worthless lifetimes.’

‘C’mon, Sunshine ’ Seagram waited as the cub left off exploring to come bounding after him and ran to a point ahead where he began exploring once more. Raya, meanwhile, was studying the trees lining the rutted coastal lane. To their left was deep forest, to their right the whitecapped ocean.
‘There are many nests here, but I do not see many creatures that fly,’ she said.
‘It’s the time of day,’ Seagram told her. ‘There’re no young in the nests at this time of year, so the adults are out foraging and socialising.’
‘Why do you call them birds? They are not birds of Earth.’
Seagram chuckled at that. ‘You have to call them something, and if you give everything on every world that flew a different name, you’d soon be overrun with words.’ She watched as Sunshine went bounding ahead, and spotted something white between the trees.
‘There is it, such as it is,’ Seagram told her. ‘My little home away from home.’
‘Is that a stream beyond it?’ Raya asked him.
‘That’s how I found this spot,’ Seagram told her. ‘There are animal trails on either side of the stream running beside my place at the bottom of the outcropping. I followed them all the way here, where the stream meets the ocean, and just fell in love with the place.’
Only half-paying attention, Raya said distractedly, and disapprovingly, ‘These are trees . . . you have meddled with this planet’s ecosystem.’
I had to,’ Seagram replied. ‘This planet was dying. It didn’t have all that many life-forms to begin with, and the few that remained were pushed to the limit. I had to bring in a number of things just to keep it going.’
‘Anala did say that loss of habitat was making all but a few animal types extinct,’ Raya conceded. ‘But she also said it was very cold here. She must have been referring to winter.’
‘Partly,’ Seagram admitted with a small, strange smile, ‘but I’m guilty of altering things a bit.’
‘You have caused climate change,’ Raya said with disapproval.
‘Worse. I had equipment built using part of my family’s fortune, and I used it to shift this planet’s orbit- why are you so angry?’
‘That sort of meddling is immoral and illegal almost everywhere, for good reason ’
‘You think I should have let this planet and everything on it die?’
Raya sighed, deep in thought, as they entered the small house and deposited their backpacks on the floor. ‘I will not deny that you have done good things, but there are others who are not to be trusted who would have used such power to evil ends.’
Seagram shrugged. ‘I don’t think in those terms, I guess because I don’t like most people’
‘That is true. You are a very strange man.’
He turned to scrutinise whether she had thrown a jibe or jest at him, but she had gone out the back way.

‘They do look a bit like cats,’ Jeodie said of the big animals guarding the artifact. Then, reconsidering, ‘A bit. Sort of.’
‘Seagram told me he calls them cats because he can’t think of anything else to call them,’ Riker said, his voice strained because of the large piece of equipment he was pulling across the lab floor to study the artifact with.
‘It has long been accepted custom to refer to life-forms in terms one is familiar with,’ Worf put in, giving Riker a hand. ‘The Klingon animal you refer to as a wolf is one such example, and I have even heard your own people use the Klingon word when referring to Earth wolves.’
‘Which Klingon word?’ Data asked him, pausing from adjusting a piece of equipment. ‘There are over one hundred Klingon languages.’
‘Just as there are over one hundred human names for your home planet,’ Worf replied before answering his question.
‘There we go ’ Riker said. ‘Now, let’s see if this piece of equipment does anything.’
‘I do not yet know what it is you’re trying to do,’ Worf said.
‘Just seeing if the artifact is compatible with a dimensional door,’ Geordi replied. ‘If it is, we’ll be able to put equipment inside it without having to worry about it shifting position or changing shape or size.’
‘Here goes nothing,’ Riker said, turning the piece of equipment on.
After several uneventful moments, Data said, ‘Was that intended to be humorous, or a statement of fact?’

‘If I had the time,’ Jean Luc Picard intoned, ‘I would read them. All of them.’ He was in Dalz’ quarters looking through his small library. ‘It may be small, but it’s a magnificent collection.’
‘They will still be here when you retire,’ Dalz told him.
‘Which won’t be long now,’ Picard muttered with feeling. ‘God, but I feel old these days. Old and tired.’
Dalz raised an eyebrow at that. ‘You are mistaken if you think mere age is to blame. What you need is a change. The right kind of change.’
‘I know,’ Jean Luc sighed ruefully. ‘I’m finding it difficult to come to terms with the fact that I’m no longer in love with my occupation. I do need a change. I need to grow once more, but in different ways. In new ways.’

‘Now then,’ Anala chirped, sitting up, ‘didn’t I tell you? I may be old, but I’m as fit as they come.’
Dr Crusher was using one of the upstairs guest rooms to give the elderly couple a physical. Both, it turned out, were in robust good health, aside from the normal aches and pains associated with their age.
‘We should be in as good shape at your age,’ Deanna griped.
‘The two of you will be long dead by the time you reach my age,’ the old lady quipped. ‘Neither of you are as long-lived as us Romulans.’
‘I’m sorry we’ve dumped this thing in your back yard ’ Deanna Troi said.
‘Oh, think nothing of it,’ Anala said with a disconcerting twinkle in her eye. ‘It has been good for my husband, and even if I’m not getting much done, he’s not under foot all the time. Men and retirement  Pah ’
Deanna and Beverly shared a covert grin at that.

Raya followed the path bordering the stream a short distance inland and came presently to a rocky knoll that had been transected by the stream and hollowed out so that it formed a natural barrier to the light breeze. Just ahead a shallow stone cave had been scooped out of the rock, a natural alcove that faced the sun. Raya kicked off her shoes and savoured the warmth of the smooth-worn stone. Taking a cursory look around, she doffed her clothes and stepped into a wide pool. She sighed, savouring the deliciously tepid water, and dove under to explore the bottom.
The pond, like the stream, was miraculously clear, the round stones and convoluted smooth-worn rock of the streambed clean and unstained by scum. Schools of tiny fish darted about. Here and there were patches of sand and gravel.
An hour or so later she went back to the building Seagram referred to as his “cabin” and was greeted by the smell of something frying in a skillet. ‘I hope you’re up to sampling a bit of the local ocean animal and plant life. Don’t worry- it’s something like Earth’s shellfish, nothing with a brain or consciousness to speak of.’
She sat on a tall stool by the window and accepted the food he offered her. After they’d eaten in silence, she finally spoke. ‘You have lied to me, Linus Seagram. There is evidence that you have done far more than meddle with the ecological balance of this planet. I stumbled across the remains of several species of animals that were made extinct in one violent catastrophe.’
‘Yes, and good riddance to them,’ Seagram replied unrepentantly as he took their plates to the kitchen. ‘They were an abomination.’
‘How can you say such a thing?’ she demanded.
He shrugged. ‘Just like I did. What you don’t know is that none of those things were from this planet. They were brought here to destroy the indigenous wildlife.’
She glared, uncertain whether to believe him or not. ‘Why would anyone do such a thing?’
‘In a word, “cost”,’ he told her. You did notice that all those skeletons had long, pointy teeth and claws and walked on two legs? If they had been successful, they would have eaten all of the indigenous life forms on this planet, after which they would have starved to death. It’s what they were brought here for.’
‘So you wiped them out ’
‘Every last one of them,’ he agreed. ‘And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.’
‘You seem to like playing god ’
He chuckled at that. ‘If you like, I can take you to the planet they’re from so you can see for yourself that they’re in no danger of becoming extinct.’
‘Still . . .’ she subsided, watching Sunshine play with his pant cuff.
‘They wiped out almost all of Sunshine’s family,’ he told her, tousling the little creature’s head, evoking a playful growl in return.
‘The one you call “Auntie” is a survivor?’ she asked thoughtfully.
‘The only other survivor,’ he replied quietly. ‘The rest, including his mother, were torn to pieces.’
Raya sighed. ‘I see.’ And stiffened as Sunshine had become alert, his little ears tracking some sound they couldn’t hear.
Seagram went to a wall panel and opened it, revealing a complex computer-station. He switched it on, ran a scan of the area, and then-
‘Well, well, well. We have visitors. Stay here.’
‘I will not stay here  Where are you going?’
He went into the utility room, opened a box, and tossed her a few items. ‘Ever used one of these?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘A personal cloaking device. Where did you get this?’
‘I was referring to the stun gun,’ he rejoined with a smile, ‘but the cloaking device is my own little invention. It’s not just a cloaking device,’ he said as he strapped on its parts. ‘It’s body armour as well. That’s why the back pack is so big.’ He held up a camouflaged backpack as evidence. ‘This puts out a lot of power. It’ll take direct hits by a phaser or disruptor set to vaporise.’
‘Who is it that is going to be shooting at us?’ she demanded, strapping herself in.
His only reply was to smile and nod for her to follow.

Raya hissed in anger as they ventured a look over the ledge of rock. ‘The Valgoroth  And you intend to attacked them armed only with stunners?’ She glowered as Sunshine ventured a peek, his stubby little tail twitching in anticipation, she assumed, of innocent fun. Although the curious little animal wore his own version of a cloaking suit, she wasn’t convinced of his safety.
‘Yeah, the mighty Valgoroth,’ Seagram said with light sarcasm. ‘Ugly things, aren’t they?’
‘This is no laughing matter- Seagram  What are you doing?’ He had switched on his cloaking suit and Sunshine’s as well. In her earpiece she heard, ‘Time to switch on. And flip your eyepiece down so you can see Sunshine and me, otherwise we’re likely to run into one another.’ She did so, and was surprised to find that she could see Seagram and Sunshine fairly clearly, through with green lines and patterns of distortion. ‘Don’t use your stun-gun unless you absolutely have to,’ Seagram told her. ‘Use the other gun.’
‘This little thing?’ she demanded. ‘What is this? Are you insane?’
He chuckled in response. ‘You’ll see. Aim for the smaller extremities at first. Anything to cause the most annoyance.’

The Valgoroth were among the strangest creatures ever encountered, and considered by many to be the most ruthless, the most deadly. It was true that they were ruthless, and deadly where the upper hand was theirs, but members of the Federation had found that a firm hand in driving them off invariably led to their removing themselves to other regions of space.
The origin of the name “Valgoroth” was unknown, but was thought to be a derivation of “Val-gora”, or “demon of the underworld” in the ancient tongue of an unknown race, the only knowledge of whom were ancient ruins found on a scattering of far-flung planets in deep and barely-explored space that had been dead for several millennia.
The Valgoroth themselves had baffled scientists for generations because although they acted as though they were alive and conscious, all the evidence seemed to indicate otherwise. Single specimens captured for study ceased to be animate, becoming as rigid as stone, and would remain that way until they came within the proximity of animate members of their race. A specimen that had been part of a collection of artifacts in a Klingon museum for over three hundred years was said to have come to life over six-hundred years ago during a bloody raid on the Klingon home world.
In appearance the Valgoroth were an asymmetrical anomaly, having a long right “arm”, a left appendage like a short whip, a small, eyeless head-like appendage which looked roughly like the head and neck of a vulture, a grotesquely muscled torso that tapered to an absurdly narrow waist, a strong-looking right leg, and a left leg that was actually an arm. It was otherwise black and featureless, with no nervous-system or brain, no circulatory system or blood or lungs, nothing that could be defined as internal organs or muscle-tissue or skeletal structure.

Seagram stared as the strange creature showed no reaction to the tiny barbed needle that stuck fast in its neck. Experimentally, he fired a number of stingers into its body, from top to bottom.
‘I told you ’ Raya hissed. ‘These creatures can not feel pain.’
‘They could the last time they were here,’ Seagram muttered.
Raya stared her disbelief. ‘What are you talking about? The Valgoroth do not feel pain.’
He turned his attention back to the odd-looking creatures. ‘Something’s not right. They should be vocalising, too.’
‘You have seen creatures that look like this?’ Raya asked him, realising that he was as confused as she. ‘But that act differently?’
‘Yes. They’re from deep space. No one knows where they’re from, exactly, or what they want, but they tend to show up where there are sparsely populated settlements. The general feeling is that they’re looking for something.’
‘Looking for something . . .’ Raya muttered, her gaze fixed inward. ‘Looking for something . . .’ her eyes widened.
‘What is it?’ Seagram asked her.
Raya studied his features with something like revulsion. ‘This isn’t real. None of this is real. Seagram . . . did you enter the artifact?’
‘I did,’ he admitted slowly, ‘but nothing happened.’
Fixing his eyes with her own, she said, ‘Seagram, you must get out of here. Now  None of this is real. None of this is happening. You are still inside the artifact.’
‘What are you talking about?’ he said, almost laughing. ‘You’re real-’
‘I have been here before,’ she told him levelly. ‘That is one of the dangers of the artifact. Part of me remains here, and always will. Please, Linus,’ she said, ‘get out of here. Now. While you still can.’
He looked at Sunshine uncertainly.
‘Did he come with you?’ Raya asked him.
Seagram shook his head.
‘Then he is still on the outside. You must go, now, before the Valgoroth become aware of your presence ’
Something of the way she said Valgoroth sent chill down his spine . . . and he began running.

Something about his home at the bottom of the stone outcropping caused him to duck into a copse, crawl on his belly to the north side, and check the area. With a cold, metallic knot in his gut, he realised what had alerted his senses: there was utter silence, no sign of life, nothing at all to indicated the presence of the Federation members or General Dalz or his wife.
‘What am I afraid of?’ he demanded of himself, standing up. ‘I’m wearing a cloaking suit  Even if there was something remotely dangerous here, it wouldn’t be able to see or detect me, even if it had access to the very latest scanning technology.’
He was about to take a step forward, when the wooden doors rolled open and a dozen Valgoroth came lurching forth in a double row, the middlemost ones bearing something on a primitive litter.
‘What the hell ’ They were taking the artifact with them  He stopped himself a moment to gather his thoughts. ‘Raya said that none of this is real . . .’ He studied the line of Valgoroth moving along like the ungainly procession of some ancient, demented cult. The artifact was in plain view atop the litter, held in place by what appeared to be nothing more than four upright staves made of black stone and ornately carved. And yet . . . he flipped the eyepiece down over his left eye, flipped open a control-panel on his wrist, and began making adjustments. ‘Great ’ It appeared that the artifact was being held in place by some sort of energy field. He made some adjustments to the frequency of his cloaking suit and steeled himself. ‘Real or not, why do I have the feeling that this is going to hurt like a sonofabitch?’ With that, he waited until the line of Valgoroth drew in front of his position, then like a rugby blocker began running forward with his head down, prepared for impact-

-withdrew his head from the artifact and sat down on the floor. What the hell  He took a look around the cave. Where on earth were General Dalz and Anala, and the Federation team?
And then, he remembered. The General had died years ago, as had Anala, he shortly after retirement, and she not long after. They had wanted to accompany him but were too old and frail. There was no Federation team. A familiar sound got his attention, causing him to smile. No, there was only little Sunshine, who was waiting impatiently for his supper. With that, Seagram got to his feet, dusted himself off, and began preparing another lonely supper.

‘What an idiot, hey Sunshine,’ Seagram said as he and Sunshine began eating: Sunshine his artificially grown diet of organ meats, and Seagram his usual vegan fare. ‘I was warned not to touch the damned thing, and there I go sticking my head in it ’
Sunshine’s only response was to sating his hunger, which he did with a low growl as he wolfed down chunks of warm, purplish meat.
There was an unexpected beep from the communications pad on a console just to his right. The Federation people were probably here. He punched a button. ‘Linus Seagram here.’
‘Mr Seagram,’ a familiar voice replied, ‘this is Captain Jean Luc Picard of the Federation ship Enterprise. Are you there, Mr Seagram?’
Seagram was stunned into speechlessness. Captain Picard? But . . . he thought of the artifact, which was guarded in a safe place belowground. But he had only imagined that he’d met the man while his head was in the artifact
‘Mr Seagram?’
‘Seagram here,’ he replied, and found that his hands were shaking. ‘Sorry . . . I was just a little preoccupied.’
The Starfleet officer seemed to take that as face value. ‘If you don’t mind, I would like to send an away team to your planet right away to assess the possibility of removing the artifact. Do I have your permission?’
Linus Seagram took a deep breath, let it out slowly. ‘Sure. Come on ahead. You may as well beam down to my coordinates.’
Within moments, the away team appeared in the shimmer of the transporter beam, but Seagram’s attention was fixed on only one of them.
‘Do you two know each other?’ Commander Riker asked, looking from one to the other.
‘In a manner of speaking,’ Raya said, unable not to stare.
‘We met in the artifact,’ Seagram said, wondering if anything was trustworthy any longer.
Captain Picard started at that, but held himself in check. ‘Would you care to elaborate?’
‘I . . . took a look inside it,’ Seagram said, tearing his gaze away from Raya, only to find himself staring at the members of the away team. ‘I met all of you . . . Captain Picard, Commander Riker, Lt Worf, Dr Crusher, Counsellor Troi, Mr La Forge, Mr Data-’
‘Inside the artifact?’ Data asked him. ‘That is curious, as we have never made your acquaintance before-’
‘You have a cat named Spot,’ Seagram interrupted. ‘Commander Riker plays the trombone. Mr Worf was raised by human parents. Mr La Forge-’
‘We get the picture,’ the captain cut him off, his mien a strange admixture of anger, wonder, worry, and perhaps fear. ‘The artifact showed you a facsimile of us which you interacted with. I understand that-’
‘When you were in the artifact, did I warn you to leave?’ Raya asked Seagram.
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘There were these things called “Valgoroth”. I expected them to be alive like us, but they weren’t.’
‘Valgoroth?’ Dr Crusher asked.
Seagram shrugged. ‘I only seemed to know of them when I was inside that thing.’
All eyes turned to Raya. ‘That was my experience also,’ she said, her head slightly cocked in thought. ‘Inside the artifact, they were not alive. Yet part of our shared experience within the artifact was the knowledge that outside of the artifact they are alive.’
‘Perhaps a condition of existing only within the artifact means that things within it are non-living,’ Data said. ‘That would after all be in accordance with existence as it was at the time the artifact came into being. What it does not explain, however, is what is meant by these Valgoroth as being living entities.’
‘Assuming they exist at all, beyond being a figment of one’s imagination,’ captain Picard put in pointedly, ‘perhaps someone at a later time used the artifact to imprison them, in which case the artifact would quite literally be a Pandora’s Box waiting to be opened.’
‘Except that there’s nothing to stop them from leaving any time they want to,’ Seagram said.
‘“Wanting” implies conscious volition,’ Data rejoined. ‘You yourself have said that the Valgoroth are not conscious entities.’
‘But if they were at one time,’ Geordi said, ‘maybe there’s still something left of their having been alive and conscious, like a memory or something.’
The captain shook his head. ‘This is just idle speculation. We need real information, and for that we have to study the artifact. Mr Seagram, you said in your communication that you have a well-equipped lab suited for this purpose. May we go there now and begin our work?’

‘Whoa  You say those things are sentient?’ Geordi said when he saw the creatures guarding the artifact in the underground lab. ‘They look like they could bite man in half ’
‘I suppose they could,’ Seagram said, taking a fresh look at the artifact. As before it was little more than a grey, roughly ovoid smear that appeared flat no matter which direction one saw it from. ‘There’s something that’s been bothering me,’ he said. ‘How did the Romulans manage to obtain this piece of it?’
Raya raised an eyebrow at that. ‘I am not sure.’
‘But you were there when they were studying it,’ Seagram persisted. ‘Surely you must know something.’
Raya, too, took a hard look at the thing. ‘It seems that I should . . .’
‘When did you first touch it?’ Seagram asked her.
Raya stared, and tried to remember. ‘I do not know why . . . but I am not sure.’
‘Get out, now  He grated. I think you’re still inside-’
‘What are the two of you talking about?’ the captain demanded.
Seagram took her by the arm. ‘Go  Now  Before it’s too late ’
Not knowing why, and trusting to instinct alone, Raya dove for the artifact-

‘-Lt Raya  Lt Raya, can you hear me?’
Her ears were ringing. She felt horrible. Her right arm was numb, yet throbbing dully with the promise of pain. And she was laying on her back . . . inside the chamber where they were studying the ancient artifact.
‘My arm . . .’ she winced as her right hand and arm began to ache, excruciatingly. ‘What happened?’
‘You touched it,’ one of the scientists said. ‘Don’t you remember?’
She sat up, only to find that her head was spinning. ‘I do now.’ She looked around, remembering. ‘We must get out of this chamber  Now ’
The scientific team stared at her as though she were mad.
‘There’s no time to explain  We must get out of here, now, before it breaks free ’
The head scientist hesitated, then nodded, curtly. In single file they began filing out of the chamber. Only moments after the pressure hatch was sealed behind them, the asteroid was shaken by a sharp report, followed by an ominous tremor.
‘Run for the ships ’ Raya shouted. ‘We’ve got to get out of here ’
Moments later, from the safety of the ship they watched as the ancient artifact burst free from the asteroid like a parasite bursting free of its host. A grey, nebulous, indistinct smear, it began moving . . . accelerating . . .
‘Lay in a pursuit course,’ her Romulan captain barked. ‘Lt Raya, what do you know about this?’
‘It is heading for Federation space,’ she replied. ‘Don’t ask me how I know, because I do not know the answer. This is something I learned from the artifact itself when I touched it.’
‘It is headed in the direction of Federation space,’ the navigator said in mistrustful surprise.
‘This is an incident that would be unwise to share with the Federation,’ the captain muttered as he studied the forward monitor. ‘They will not thank us for this invasion of their space.’
But all Raya could think of was that she was back.

Chapter 4

‘That’s quite a story,’ the Federation captain said, unable to suppress a smile. He and his senior staff were seated in the Enterprise ready room across the table from a Romulan captain and one of his younger lieutenants.
Raya coloured at the human’s tone. The real captain Picard was far more authoritarian a presence than the one she’d encountered in the artifact.
‘Nevertheless,’ the Romulan captain said, ‘she did rightly predict the danger, and that the artifact is headed for your Federation. That, and the details she knows about yourself and your crew.’
‘Those details amount to fairly common knowledge,’ captain Picard countered.
‘Suit yourself,’ the Romulan captain shrugged. ‘Try to destroy the thing and learn the danger for yourself. I took the precaution of sending out an unmanned shuttlecraft and used it to fire upon the artifact. As Lt Raya had warned, it was instantly destroyed.’
‘She is telling the truth,’ Counsellor Troi said to her captain. ‘They both are.’
‘I’m not disputing whether or not you believe this to be a truthful accounting,’ captain Picard said to his Romulan counterpart. ‘But I have already contacted this Linus Seagram, and he says that he has no knowledge of this matter.’
‘He did not enter the artifact,’ Raya stressed.
‘You just told us he did,’ Commander Riker said dismissively.
‘I told you I thought he had, until I realised that it was only myself who had touched it.’
Captain Picard took a deep breath, leaned back in his chair, and let it out slowly and angrily. To Lt Raya, he said, ‘Young lady, I don’t know whether to believe your story or not, but this matter puts me in a very difficult position. Starfleet dragged us away from a very important mission, one that is costing lives each and every day  Based on what I’ve heard here, this . . . this artifact, has yet to pose any real danger, and from what you’ve told us, it will pass through Federation space and continue beyond, heading out into deep space. Nothing I’ve heard here convinces me that Starfleet involvement is required, or even needed.’
Raya looked to her captain, who was studying his fingertips. She got to her feet, angry and mortified. ‘You can believe me or not. That is your affair. But I tell you that the artifact is evil and it is dangerous  If a way is not found to contain it once more, you will regret it. All of you.’ She glanced her captain’s way as she said this, spun on her heel, and left the ready room.
After an uncomfortable silence, Picard turned to the Romulan captain. ‘I would like to hear your thoughts on this matter.’
The Romulan captain, though a stern, ascetic-looking man, was clearly torn. ‘Lt Raya is young . . . but she is one of my best officers. Her record and her performance are both exemplary. I have never known her to be an imaginative sort. She has no history of mental illness, nor is there any in her family, and according to our physicians her mental health is sound beyond question.’ Looking Picard in the eye he added, ‘I regret the imposition placed upon you, and the subsequent loss of life . . . but were the discretion mine, I would take her at her word.’
‘Unfortunately,’ captain Picard told him, ‘I do not have the luxury of discretion in this matter. Without something more substantial than the young lieutenant’s word, Starfleet will take a rather dim view if I do not return immediately to the situation we were involved in.’
He as about to say more when the red alert siren shattered the air, followed by a hail from the bridge.
‘Captain Picard here. Go ahead.’
‘Sir, a high-speed shuttle has just been reported stolen from one of the Romulan ships  We’re tracking it through Federation space right now  It seems to be following that anomaly.’
The two captains’ eyes locked. The Romulan muttered, ‘Raya.’ Seeming to reach an unpleasant decision, he said, ‘Shall I order my ships to intercept and destroy it?’
Nonplussed, captain Picard said, rising to his feet, ‘No. We will go after her. But you might want to be prepared to attend her hearing.’

‘That is one fast shuttlecraft ’ Geordi said with an engineer’s enthusiasm, drawing an unimpressed glare from Mr Worf.
‘Perhaps your admiration is misplaced,’ the big Klingon groused.
‘Are you kidding?’ La Forge said, his ebullience unfazed. ‘I’d just love to get my hands on the schematics- whoa  What the hell is she doing?’
‘It appears that she is attempting to use the shuttle’s nacelles to alter the artifact’s course,’ Data said, impressed.
‘Aren’t they already stressed to the limit?’ Riker said, looking to the captain who also appeared worried.
‘At this rate,’ Data said, ‘the shuttle will begin to disintegrate in-’
‘Get her out of there ’ captain Picard snapped. ‘Transporter room, lock onto that shuttle’s passenger and beam her aboard ’
‘Aye, sir.’
There were gasps as a visible halo enveloped the shuttle’s port nacelle. The inevitable soon followed: first the port nacelle, then the rest of the tiny ship, came flying apart in a hail of debris as the shuttle lost its structural integrity.
‘We have her, sir  We’re transferring her to sickbay, right now.’
‘What is her condition?’ Picard asked.
‘Sir . . . there are no vitals.’
After a numb silence, the captain said, ‘Mr Riker.’
‘Aye, sir?’
‘I’ll be in sickbay if you need me. In the meantime, continue on our present heading.’
‘Sir?’
‘You heard me, Number One. A young woman thought that chasing down that anomaly was worth sacrificing her own life. Perhaps we need to address this matter more seriously.’
‘What’ll I tell Starfleet?’
The captain thought a moment before heading for the turbolift. ‘Tell them we’ve been unexpectedly and unavoidably delayed.’

The man named Linus Seagram was overseeing the progress of his robotic work crew when he was unexpectedly interrupted. He did not like interruptions, and he was not kindly disposed towards the Federation, who were many light years out of their jurisdiction. He listened to the story impatiently, and with growing anger.
‘This thing you’re looking for is here? On my planet?’
‘With your permission,’ captain Picard continued, ‘we would like to began searching for it.’
‘You do not have my permission, and I’m not going to give you my permission,’ Seagram said with perhaps more force than was necessary. ‘There are life-forms here that are adversely affected in the extreme by sensor equipment, and I will not have them put through that while you go fumbling around for this thing. And while we’re on the subject, my sensor equipment, the long-range type, picked up some sort of disturbance about two hours ago, and there is now a small cloud of debris fouling up my neck of the woods. Would that have anything to do with your presence here?’
‘A small ship was lost tracking the anomaly,’ captain Picard told him. ‘The person piloting that ship had managed to avert a series of worse disasters which the anomaly almost caused earlier.’
‘You say this thing is dangerous,’ Seagram said, ‘but from what you’ve told me, the only danger seems to be in not leaving it alone.’
There was a long silence. At last, Picard replied, ‘If you do not want our assistance, that is your affair. But at least one person was so convinced of the danger this thing represents that she was willing to give her life, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
Seagram cursed under his breath. ‘Is there any chance you can locate this thing using your passive sensor array?’
There was a slight pause. ‘Initiating as we speak. It appears to be only eleven kilometres from your position.’
‘Give me the coordinates,’ Seagram said resignedly. ‘I’ll meet you there. But leave your equipment behind  No phasers, no tricorders, no equipment of any kind. I’ll bring my own. Its shielding protects the local wildlife. Seagram out.’
He switched off the intercom, wiped the sweat from his brow with a sleeve, and considered the yellow-green sky a moment. Hopefully these people would be on their way before sundown.

Raya studied her reconstructed face and arm with not a little wonder. Not a single scar remained of the ruin her body had been mere hours before.
‘I hope the pain was worth it,’ Dr Crusher commented as she helped the young Romulan lieutenant into the fresh clothes provided for her.
Raya winced as she lifted her arms in order to get the top on. ‘Your medical staff does remarkable work.’
‘You do realise that you’re in serious trouble.’
‘Only until the artifact is recognised for what it is,’ Raya rejoined.
‘And what if it isn’t?’ the doctor asked her.
Raya straightened her top and adjusted the sleeves. ‘It is said that evil cannot withstand scrutiny. We go to scrutinise the artifact. It will be found out.’
‘And what if you’re wrong?’
‘I am not wrong ’ Raya replied darkly. ‘I know what I experienced of it, just as you know the colour of your own uniform. Some things are certain. This is certain.’
The doctor sighed, mainly out of concern. ‘Look, you’re going to be very tired soon, and you’re going to need sleep- a lot of it. Yes, you’ve been put back together, but you still have to heal. So, I’m going to keep and eye on you, and when I say it’s time for you to call it a day, that’s it ’

Seagram glowered as the Enterprise away team materialised in a semicircle before him. Behind them stood his landrider, and beyond that was the open savannah. At his back, a circle of what he termed “cats” guarded the entrance to a cave. With the cave was the artifact the Federation seemed so interested in.
‘That’s what all this nonsense is about? A big grey blob that doesn’t appear to do much, if anything?’
‘Where is it, Mr Seagram?’ captain Picard asked him. ‘Is it in that cave?’
‘It’s more of a sinkhole,’ Seagram told him. ‘Caves are too valuable to the indigenous wildlife here to waste. But yes, it’s in there. So please, bottle it up as soon as you can and be on your way.’
‘As I told you before,’ Picard said succinctly, ‘that is easier said than done.’
Seagram stared as Sunshine dropped from the running board of the landrider and galloped on his stumpy little legs towards a young female member of the Federation away team. The Romulan woman appeared pale and a little unsteady on her feet, but that isn’t what had Seagram’s attention. She knelt down to pick up the little animal, and it seemed they knew each other. ‘There’s a lab’s worth of equipment in the back of the landrider,’ Seagram told Picard distractedly, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. ‘Let’s see if we can’t get a handle on what’s going on, here.’

‘I have come up with a template for forming a mathematical model of the anomaly,’ Data said after they had almost given up on trying to analyse the artifact. ‘The Enterprise computer is working on extrapolating it now. The only drawback,’ he added as apologetically as an android could, ‘it that it may take considerable time.’
‘How considerable?’ Riker asked him, knowing that Data’s notion of what constituted a long time often differed from a human’s.
‘At the least it may take only hours,’ Data told him, ‘ but that is a purely optimistic estimate. It is quite possible that there are variables contained within the artifact’s structure that won’t become apparent until that structure is sequenced.’
‘In other words,’ Seagram put in sourly, ‘if there are enough hidden variables, and if those variables are complex enough, the computer may not be adequate to the task.’
‘That is correct,’ Data said bluntly.
‘Why must you use such an arcane method for analysing the artifact?’ Deanna Troi asked Riker.
‘Because the artifact isn’t made out of conventional matter,’ Will replied.
‘But it is made out of the same subatomic material as everything else in the universe,’ she persisted. ‘We should still be able to analyse it.’
‘The problem,’ Will Riker told her, ‘is that those subatomic particles are grouped together completely differently to form matter with properties we can only speculate on. A simple comparison is isomers, or mirrored molecules. If you put sodium and chlorine together one way, you get sodium chloride, or salt such as we use in cooking.’
‘And mirroring the molecule literally turns food into poison,’ Deanna responded. ‘I know that. So you’re saying what the artifact is made of goes far beyond that. But how will a mathematical model help you to understand what it’s made of?’
‘If it works,’ he told her, ‘it will create a ground-up model of the physical workings of the artifact’s matter.’
‘You mean that, by working out how the subatomic material interacts, you may be able to extrapolate what it is on a large scale?’
‘Exactly. We can’t analyse the large scale because it’s an expression of its small-scale constituents. Our tools won’t interact with anything but its smallest constituents because they’re all we have in common.’
She smirked, and said pertly, ‘You know, you’re a lot smarter than I thought you were,’ then, still smirking, went off to give Geordi a hand, leaving a perplexed Will Riker to say, ‘And just what is that supposed to mean?’

The slanting late-afternoon sun was becoming hot, the air sultry, when Seagram said, ‘Let’s leave it for the day. It’s not going anywhere, and it looks like it’s pretty much up to your ship’s computer, now.’ He approached Dr Crusher, then. ‘That Romulan lieutenant, Raya, doesn’t look too good, but she seems too bullheaded to stop on her own.’
‘I was about to tell her to go back to the ship and rest,’ Beverly said approvingly.
‘Was she the one . . . ?’
‘Who almost got herself killed? Yes, that would be lieutenant Raya.’
‘Huh,’ Seagram grunted, appraising the young woman as she began helping pack up the equipment. To the captain, he said, ‘Look, if that mission you were on was so damned important, why don’t you just leave a few personnel here and go back to it?’
‘As is normal for a disaster,’ the captain replied, relieved by Seagram’s apparent change of heart, ‘other help came unexpectedly and unlooked-for. Things are now under control there.’
Seagram nodded. ‘All right. Well, let’s go back to my place. At least I can offer you a home-cooked meal instead of replicator food.’
‘What about-?’ Geordi said, inclining he his towards the artifact’s impromptu lair.
‘Oh . . . it won’t go anywhere without my knowing about it,’ Seagram told him. ‘The big cats will keep it right where it is for now, and if anything changes they’ll get word to me immediately. Trust me- you couldn’t keep it under any better guard yourselves.’
As they walked and carried equipment towards the landrider, Data said to Seagram, ‘I was wondering: why do you call them “cats”?’
Seagram shrugged as he heaved a box of electronic equipment into the back of the landrider. ‘Gotta call them something. Besides, it’s pretty standard practise to name things after something they remind you of, otherwise we’d have too darned many names for things.’
Data considered the eyeless creatures for what for him was a long time, perhaps a few seconds. ‘I am finding it difficult to identify your comparison.’
‘This, from someone who named his cat “Spot” Riker said as he passed by, winking and patting Data on the shoulder.
Seagram smiled to himself at the idea. ‘An android who has a pet companion named “Spot”. I think I’m going to like you, Mr Data.’

‘Those animals of yours are quite amazing,’ Worf said with barely concealed enthusiasm. He had made sure he got a front passenger seat near to Seagram who drove the landrider. ‘They have the bearing and the scars of warriors.’
‘They are magnificent in battle,’ Seagram replied with feeling. ‘And now that their habitat has been increased, their numbers are no longer in such steep decline.’
‘Do they fight with one another for mates, or for territory?’ Worf asked him. ‘I ask because I could not detect an alpha male or female among those present.’
‘All of those you saw back there are of the same caste,’ Seagram told him, glad to have an interested ear. ‘Regardless, they rarely fight amongst themselves. I don’t know how mates are chosen, but the females seem to choose a different mate every breeding season. They have strong family units consisting of females, female relatives and offspring, and the males fall into groups I call “prides” that live an independent existence.
‘There are three castes, which I call “junior”, “middle” and “senior”. All of the animals back there belong to the “middle” caste, which is completely different from the “junior” ones. The junior castes do all the breeding and live separate lives, but when they reach a certain age the males and females come together and form an entirely new caste.
‘The “middle” caste is one big complex social entity I’m only beginning to understand. They’re the eyes and ears of the “senior” caste, which is about as much as I know about them.
‘Don’t expect to see any members of the “senior” caste. I’ve only seen the odd one. Like the middle caste there’s only the one group, which is closely guarded and protected and spends all its time in its lair. Although,’ he added with an odd laugh, ‘the senior caste doesn’t seem to need protection.’
‘They are great warriors, then,’ Worf said, thinking he understood.
‘They are ancient,’ Seagram said almost reverently. ‘As ancient as the bones of the land itself. Any one of them could take on an entire pride belonging to the middle caste and destroy it if they had a mind to. And yet they are amazingly intelligent, compassionate creatures that love their offspring and know all of them, right down to the smallest cub.
‘I think they tolerate me because I care for Sunshine and his aunt, who are all that remain of their immediate family. They’ll both join their extended family when they get a lot older, but for now we kind of look out for one another.’

Again Seagram was disturbed by the manner in which the young Romulan woman, Raya, seemed to know every detail of his home and personal life. Sitting down at the table with the others and looking out the window absently, Raya remarked, half to herself, ‘I keep forgetting Anala is no longer alive. It doesn’t feel the same without her.’ After a hasty explanation, Raya excused herself from the table and went to lie down on a sofa which stood before the massive fireplace and furnace. She was instantly asleep.
‘Anala never lived here,’ Seagram told the others. ‘She has been gone for several years. But as Raya described her . . . I don’t know. It’s almost as though I could feel her presence again. The old general’s, too.’
‘I met General Dalz. And his wife Anala, come to think of it,’ captain Picard said thoughtfully. ‘They were such different people that I couldn’t imagine how they’d become acquainted in the first place. I ate at her restaurant a few times, quite by coincidence. Mr Data and I went there disguised as Romulan citizens.’
‘You were spying on Romulus?’ Seagram said in surprise. ‘That took guts ’
‘We were there for diplomatic reasons,’ Picard rejoined emphatically. Then, seeing Seagram’s expression, ‘What is it?’
‘I don’t know . . . I’m having one of those déjà vu moments, I guess. I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.’
The others exchanged a meaning look at that. Captain Picard then told Seagram everything he’d left out about the Romulan artifact.
‘Is it possible,’ Seagram said, ‘that there’s another . . . I don’t know . . . maybe another reality inside that thing?’
‘We are hoping that the Enterprise computer will soon provide the answer to that and all other questions,’ said Mr Data.

That night, four of the planet’s seven small moons rose full and bright over the savannah, illuminating the seven motionless sentinels guarding the opening into the earth. Down into it the artifact had flowed like a grey viscid distillation of time and space. Now, something within it began to stir, something that hadn’t occurred since the previous age of the universe.
The seven sentinels perceived the shift in the artifact’s being and knew it for what is was. Instantly, every member of their kind was made aware, from the most ancient to the smallest cub.
It had begun.

The big “cat” Seagram referred to as “Auntie” because she was Sunshine’s aunt, lifted her head and chuffed. She had trained Seagram to know that this meant she wanted his attention for something. He, Picard, Troi, Riker and Crusher were having a late cup of coffee. Seagram was rather astute and could tell from her tone that something was wrong.
‘What is it, Auntie?’ he said, flipping open a console near the table and glancing at the various scanner arrays. ‘H’m. Guess she just wants out. Normally she sounds like that when there’s some sort of intruder . . . now what the hell is that?’    Motion sensors were picking up movement- that of the seven guardians, which were returning at a run, and of something else that followed slowly in their wake. Seagram got to his feet and began bringing more equipment on line. Sensing his mood, the others got their feet and crowded behind him.
‘I have a very bad feeling about this,’ Seagram muttered as he switched to visual surveillance and zoomed in.
‘What the hell are those?’ Riker blurted, staring at the monitor.
Captain Picard blinked his eyes as though unable to trust what he was seeing. ‘Based upon Lt Raya’s description,’ he said faintly, ‘I believe those are Valgoroth. There must be tens of thousands of them ’
‘What? Where the hell are they coming from . . . ?’ Seagram’s voice trailed off as realisation set in. ‘You ’ he snarled, glaring at Picard with the promise of violence in his eyes. ‘You brought this thing here ’
Picard held his stare a moment, then touched his communicator insignia. ‘Picard to Enterprise ’
‘Enterprise here.’
‘Go to battle stations. Scan the surface of the planet for non-life entities issuing from the artifact.’
‘Sir . . . we’re not seeing anything. There seems to be some sort of barrier, obscuring them from view. It’s reflecting our sensors back at us.’
‘Check the passive arrays ’ the captain barked.
‘We’re checking everything, sir  But it’s like . . . it’s like there’s nothing there ’
‘Arm photon torpedoes  Fire one directly into the centre of that barrier.’
‘Aye, sir. Photon torpedoes armed. Firing . . . what the hell ’
‘Enterprise ’ Picard said. ‘What’s going on up there?’
‘Sir . . . we’re . . . brace for impact ’
The away team exchanged a shaken look as the unmistakable sound of the Enterprise taking a direct hit came to their ears through the captain’s communicator.
‘Captain  We’ve just taken a direct hit from our own photon torpedo  It must’ve been redirected back at us ’
‘Damage report,’ the captain demanded.
‘Shields are down. Reports are coming in of injuries, but no fatalities so far. We took a hell of a hit, but we’re holding together, sir.’
‘Call Starfleet,’ the captain said. ‘Tell them we need immediate assistance. Tell them we need a ground assault force equipped with specialised weapons that are provided with electronic shielding. And get every available hand down here, on the double, armed with . . .’ he thought a moment. ‘Belay that. Stand by. Picard out.’ He turned to the others, his look grim. ‘We don’t even know if we can penetrate that barrier. We need to take a closer look at what we’re up against.’
‘With any luck the wall will keep them out,’ Seagram said in a low voice, like a betrayed man whose help was needed. ‘In the meantime, I’m going to take a landrider to the upper plain.’
‘How do you propose to get through those things?’ Riker asked him.
‘This area gets some pretty nasty weather in the Fall and Winter months,’ Seagram told him, ‘so to make getting around easier I had a number of tunnels built. I have some low-tech weapons, too,’ he added. ‘I don’t know if they’ll be of any use, but they’re safer than shooting your head off with your own phaser.’

Seagram agreed to take Captain Picard, Commander Riker, Lieutenant Worf and Mr Data with him. Within minutes they were armed and riding in the landrider through an unlighted tunnel which rose steadily toward the upland plain.
‘It’s funny,’ Seagram said as they passed through the gate which opened before them and closed behind them, ‘but the tunnel mouths were concealed for purely aesthetic reasons. It never dawned on me that they’d come in handy for defensive purposes.’
‘We’re only a kilometre from the artifact,’ Mr Data said from a back bench seat as he checked the specially shielded tricorder Seagram had provided him with. ‘It seems that the Valgoroth are indeed issuing from its location.’ He frowned. ‘It seems, too, that they are being watched by a number of the animals you refer to as “cats”,’ he said to Seagram.
‘Sentries,’ Seagram told him, craning his neck to get a look at the display on Data’s tricorder. ‘Good, they’re keeping their distance. Although . . .’ he added warily, ‘it also could mean that the Valgoroth are dangerous, in which case we’d better be careful.’

Seagram parked the landrider on a hillside which concealed their presence from the Valgoroth emerging from the cave entrance. As they crested the hill and began working their way downward through the woods, Riker muttered, ‘Hold up a minute. I want to get this thing strapped on, first.’ With the captain’s assistance he strapped a brace to his left arm which was attached to a highly-complex-looking slingshot mechanism. The others followed suit.
Data was the first finished, and remarked, ‘This is an ingenious disc-throwing mechanism. May I ask where you acquired it?’
‘I make them myself,’ Seagram said distractedly as he helped Worf with his. ‘I designed them for taking cuttings from the local version of certain types of “trees”. I found it was the quickest way to get new trees started. In the process I found out,’ he said pointedly, ‘that these things can also be very dangerous. They’re deadly accurate, and could practically take off a man’s head from a hundred yards.’
Worf took out one of the discs to examine. It was five inches in diameter, razor-thin and sharp around the edges, but slightly thicker in the middle. ‘It is surprisingly heavy,’ he remarked doubtfully, ‘and very sharp. But I have my doubts about its accuracy.’
‘You see all these?’ Seagram said, pointing to his own slingshot’s bands, ‘and the part that grabs on to the edge of the disc? When you draw back, you’ll feel that there’s something odd about the tension. That’s because this upper and lower extra band on the right side are stiffer than the four outside bands. When you release the disc, these two inside bands contract faster than the others, and this part here close to the centre of the disc grabs on when you pull, then releases shortly after you’ve let go. So the disc is propelled forward, and it’s made to spin at the same time. And if you use the electronic sight, you’ll be pretty much dead accurate up to a thousand yards.’
Commander Riker drew his disc-sling back experimentally. ‘Whoa  This thing takes a lot of effort to draw.’
‘Yes, well,’ Seagram told him, ‘don’t waste it.’

Using the bush at the foot of the hill as cover, they were able to arrive undetected within a stone’s throw of the cave mouth. Kneeling behind a boulder, in the light of four of the planet’s moons they watched the Valgoroth issue from the ground, making only a faint rustling as they moved.
‘If they are not alive,’ Lt Worf asked, ‘is it possible that they will not be able to detect our presence?’
‘I don’t know,’ the captain said, ‘but let’s find out.’ He picked up a small rock and lobbed it at the strange creatures. Nothing. He picked up another rock. This time he threw it into their midst. They watched as it glanced off the torso of one creature and struck two more on the legs on its way down. Still nothing. He glanced at Seagram enquiringly.
With a shrug, Seagram loaded his disc-sling, and in one smooth, easy motion fired a shot. The disc decapitated the nearest creature . . . which kept on walking. ‘I guess that thing on top of their shoulders isn’t really a head,’ he muttered, and took another shot. This time he chose one of the whip-like left “arm” appendages.
Instantly, the column of weird creatures halted in their tracks and began uttering strange clicking noises. And their left “arm” appendages began to glow dully red in the dark.
‘Let’s get the hell out of here ’ Picard barked as they began running for cover. From behind them they could feel a thrum of power that beat on their backs like the threat of impending destruction.
They were just filing into the landrider when the far side of the hill where they’d been erupted with a dull red flash and concussion. Moments later, the air was filled with falling debris.
‘We should be safe in here,’ Seagram said as he fired up the landrider and began speeding up the hill towards the tunnel entrance.
There was a loud bang as a boulder the size of a man’s head bounced off the landrider’s nose, but there were otherwise few other direct hits.
‘Well, at least we know one thing for sure,’ Seagram said as the tunnel gate closed behind them.
‘What’s that?’ Riker asked him.
‘We know why that artifact of yours was buried. I guess the question now is, “How do we put it back?”’

Chapter 5

‘One thing is certain,’ the captain said as they assembled atop the wall overlooking the greatest concentration of Valgoroth. ‘According to the analysis of the sensor data, these creatures are very much alive.’
To the east was a foreshadowing of dawn; to the west was night and a sea of motionless ebon forms over which an unnatural darkness hung like a penumbra.
‘The computer was unfortunately not able to extrapolate any useful information which might explain their behaviour,’ Data said. ‘There are simply too many variables at the physical level. However, it has been able to give us some indication of what we’re dealing with.’
‘Which is?’ Commander Riker prompted.
‘Unlike organic matter as we know it,’ Data continued, ‘these creatures function almost entirely on the subatomic level, which is why they have no recognisable internal structure. Beyond that we have learned very little.’
‘This is all very interesting,’ Seagram said without sarcasm, ‘but we’re in serious trouble, here. They have us surrounded, and if they attack the wall, judging from what happened back at the cave, they could probably blow it to rubble.
‘The thing is,’ he continued, ‘you can always leave, but I have to stay here. The animals I call “cats” are sentient beings, and I’ll die protecting them if I have to.’
‘We have no intention of shirking our responsibility in this situation,’ captain Picard told him. ‘I give you my word that I will do everything in my power to make this right.’
Seagram sighed, tired and frustrated. ‘Take a good look down there,’ he said to the captain. ‘Your word may not be enough.’ With that he left to return to his cave.

Despite his anger and frustration, Seagram had to smile at the sight of the bleary-eyed Lt Raya sharing her breakfast with Sunshine, who stood on her lap with his front paws on the table.
‘Okay, I believe you. I believe everything you’ve said.’
Caught with her guard down, she froze for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision and relaxed. ‘That is well. Disbelief was hindering action. We need action.’
‘You seem to have an unusual connexion with my friends. Especially little Sunshine, there. It has been my experience with them that they’re . . . I don’t know . . . empathic. Not like Counsellor Troi, but in other ways. I’ve learned that if you empathise with them, or at least try to, they’ll respond by allowing you into their world a little bit.’
‘You know, then, that they are planning to attack the Valgoroth?’ she asked quietly. To the disquiet in his mien, she said, ‘I can see it in the way they watch the enemy at the gate. They know things about the Valgoroth we can only guess at.’
‘You don’t think it was any accident that those things are here.’ It was a statement.
‘No more than you. I see it in your eyes, that you sense your “cats’” understanding of them.’
‘You are very perceptive ’ he said, somewhat mistrustfully.
She looked him directly in the eye. ‘Warriors know warriors. One does not need words on the eve of battle in order to know what the morning will bring.’ She tousled Sunshine’s head. He seemed to be watching her. Without looking up at Seagram, she said in an odd tone, ‘But you know this. These creatures who are your friends . . . you have seen battle before. A great evil was unleashed upon this world once before, and together you vanquished it.’ She turned to face him once more. ‘I will fight with you when the time comes, to stand or to fall by you, whichever way things go.’
‘Why?’ he asked her, trying to understand. ‘You have no stake in this.’
She frowned at that. ‘Do you not sense it? There is something in the air. The coming battle marks a pivotal moment that is beyond our ken. Far-reaching forces are at work, of which we are only minor players. Great things are at stake. Fate and Destiny are on the move . . . both are watching. Do you not feel it?’
‘I do feel it,’ he said wonderingly. ‘I do . . . profoundly so. It’s just that I’m amazed you do as well. I’ve never met another who shares this . . . this certainty.’
‘Certainty  The only certainty is death,’ she told him. ‘Life is about uncertainty, and how we face and deal with it. But . . . I know what you mean. It is more . . . recognition, I think, than certainty. Recognition,’ she said thoughtfully, as though considering the word for the first time. ‘That is what it is. I know you, Linus Seagram. I know you . . . even as I know myself.’
‘I hear the others returning,’ Seagram said somewhat reluctantly. ‘We will continue this conversation later.’

‘We just heard from the Enterprise,’ Geordi said as he and the other members of the Federation away team joined Seagram and Lt Raya. ‘There may be a way we can fight those things.’
‘How?’ Seagram asked, sensing the engineer’s excitement.
‘Our passive sensor array was able to identify the type of energy emitted by the Valgoroths’ antenna-like organ: you know, the one where a left arm would be? Well, it turns out that it’s a pulse of electromagnetic radiation. It packs one hell of a wallop, but it’s something that standard shielding can protect against. That is, as long as it holds out.’
‘No wonder the “cats” don’t like them ’ Seagram growled.
‘Yeah, I was thinking about that,’ La Forge said. ‘They must be pretty ornery, because they seem to be coming here in large numbers, looking for a fight. I was wondering if you could tell us how they’re getting in.’
‘They’re using the service tunnels,’ Seagram replied. ‘I rigged the doors to open and close for them because before the doors were installed they’d use the tunnels during winter.’
‘Is there any way you can send them to safety?’ captain Picard asked him.
‘Even if there was a way I could talk to them, they wouldn’t go,’ Seagram replied. ‘This is their world, and they will fight for it.’
‘They will be slaughtered ’ Worf protested.
‘Not if we can do something to level the playing-field,’ Seagram rejoined, ‘and I have just the thing.’

Captain Picard watched the proceedings as though witnessing some novel new form of madness. Seagram had set up a number of production lines at the cave entrance consisting of replicators and robotic assemblers. Through these passed endless lines of the eyeless cat-like animals. Mechanical arms strapped on shield-armour devices on to each animal, but the insanity didn’t stop there. Each creature received wicked-looking prosthetic claws and strap-on weapons packs across their shoulders which were controlled by thought. Turning away and shaking his head, he was surprised by the look on Worf’s face. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said he was witnessing the Klingon version of glee.
‘You approve of this ’ Picard said disbelievingly.
‘If I thought you would give it, I would ask that you allow me to join them in battle ’ the big Klingon said.
The captain caught his first officer’s eye. He too seemed to be watching the proceedings with approval.
‘You too, Number One?’
‘In a heartbeat ’ Riker blurted. ‘This is going to be a battle unlike anything we’ve ever seen ’
They watched as the mechanical arms hesitated. Little Sunshine waited his turn expectantly, his little tail wagging in anticipation. After a moment’s delay he was fitted with devices more suited to his stature, and trotted eagerly after Seagram.
‘Hey, little pee-wee, what do you think you’re doing?’ Seagram said kneeling down to inspect the little animal. He was clearly worried by what he saw.
‘He is small, but he has the heart of a warrior,’ Worf said quietly, touched by what he was seeing.
‘Well . . . I’ll tell you what: you can guard the cave,’ Seagram told his little friend. ‘If it comes to that you’ll be our last line of defence, and there won’t be any choice in the matter. But you leave the big fight to the big guys, okay?’

They went back to the wall just before sunset, and what they saw made them feel sick inside. The black forms of the Valgoroth surrounded the wall like preternatural night, as far as the eye could see, and more were coming.
‘Why are they keeping their distance?’ Riker muttered. ‘Why don’t they just attack?’
‘They are still massing,’ Worf growled. ‘They have not yet formed battle formations. Many went off into the forest.’
‘So that’s what that noise is  You don’t think they’re building ladders and siege engines?’ Geordi blurted in disbelief. ‘Isn’t that a bit low-tech?’
‘But effective, nonetheless,’ Worf said, a strange light in his eyes.
‘What is it, Worf?’ Deanna asked him. ‘Why are you looking like that?’
‘This type of warfare,’ he replied slowly, staring off into the distance as though looking for something, ‘is not complete without something to daunt ground forces.’
‘I do not think they have elephants or horses,’ Data said, though he too was staring into the distance as though searching for something.
‘What in the devil’s name is that?’ Picard barked. ‘There  Do you see it?’ At his side, Seagram handed him a pair of digital field glasses. Picard put them to his eyes, and sucked his breath in angry trepidation.
‘What is it?’ Riker asked him.
Wordlessly, Picard passed the field glasses to him.
‘I’m not seeing . . . wait a minute . . .’ he became silent for several long moments. One by one they passed the field glasses along to take a look. At the edge of sight, in the deepening dusk, were rising fearsome black forms with massive arms and shoulders walking on all fours. Their heads, if that’s what they were, were tiny, round and featureless and on the end of a short stalk. Their rear legs were short but powerful, made for crawling on all fours or standing.
‘I’ve got shielding equipment in storage,’ Seagram said to the captain. ‘It won’t take long to install.’
‘Mr La Forge,’ the captain said. ‘Data.’
‘We’re on it ’ Geordi responded. ‘Get me some hands down here from the ship and we’ll have this place shielded in no time.’
‘Mr Worf,’ the captain said.
‘Sir?’
‘I’d like you to organise units to work with Mr Seagram and his “cats”. If that’s all right with you?’ he added to Seagram.
‘It would be my pleasure,’ Seagram responded. ‘C’mon, Mr Worf  Let’s take another crack at learning to use those disc-slings.’
Picard, Riker, Troi and Dr Crusher watched them go. It didn’t go unnoticed that Lt Raya was at Seagram’s side with little Sunshine at her heels.
‘I’ve just been told that the Enterprise’s weapons won’t be any use against their shielding,’ Riker told the captain. ‘But they may be able to disrupt it enough that we can get some shots through it here at ground level.’
‘If this were an old-fashioned ground-war,’ the captain replied, turning up the light sensitivity on the field-glasses, ‘there would be someone or something directing the movements of the enemy.’
‘You think someone or something is behind this?’ Beverly asked him.
The captain turned to his counsellor. ‘What do you think? Are you sensing anything?’
Counsellor Troi’s gaze became disfocussed as she attempted to attune herself. ‘There is something,’ she said slowly. ‘I can feel its presence . . . but I can’t seem to access it. It’s as though I’m being shut out.’ She turned to face the captain. ‘It’s because of the animals Seagram refers to as “cats”. They’re empathic. Not like Betazoids . . . they’re altogether different. But those things out there are blocking the “cats” out because they can attune themselves to the Valgoroth. Captain . . . I think they know what the Valgoroth and the artifact are.’
‘Where’s a Vulcan when you need one to perform a mind-meld?’ Riker said rhetorically.

‘Whoa  This is some nice equipment,’ Geordi said as he began directing Enterprise personnel in the movement of shield generators from the storage unit below the underground motor pool.
‘This language is not familiar to me,’ Data said, appraising one of the units. ‘It’s not related to any language that I know of.’
‘I don’t care, just as long as they do the job,’ Geordi said.
‘In fact,’ Data continued with a frown, ‘little of Linus Seagram’s equipment is of known origin.’
‘What are you saying?’ Geordi asked him as they began loading the equipment onto a flatbed transport.
‘I’m saying that he has access to highly advanced non-Federation technology,’ Data replied.
‘You’re wondering where he got it?’
‘In part,’ the android said as they jumped aboard one of the low-slung transports as it was moving toward the surface. ‘I recognise some of it as having been manufactured here by robotic assemblers, but the core of the technology itself, as well as the more complex items, was produced by a culture that is somewhat more advanced than our own.’
‘Seagram does live outside the Federation,’ Geordi responded as the vehicle drove out into the deepening night on the plain within the wall. ‘He obviously is acquainted with someone out here who sells him their technology.’ He considered his android friend a moment. ‘You want to know who that is.’ It was a statement.
‘Considering how advanced their technology is,’ Data admitted, ‘I was just wondering if they have positronic technology equal to or more advanced than my own. I am always wondering if there are more beings out there like myself.’
‘Well . . . why don’t you ask Seagram?’ Geordi asked him as they reached the wall and began the ascent up one of the ramps which brought one to the roadway running along its top.
‘I’ve been meaning to,’ Data said, ‘but a good opportunity has not yet arisen.’
‘Well,’ Geordi said as he got a look at the waiting enemy outside the wall, ‘something tells me you’d better ask soon.’

‘What is it, Number One?’ Captain Picard asked his first officer. Riker was standing before a tripod on which was mounted a powerful night-vision camera with a long-range lens.
‘I’m guessing those are the shock troops,’ Riker said, pointing to the video display.
The captain stared at the lines of bizarre creatures, each of them half again as tall as a man. They appeared to consist of nothing more than a pair of arms instead of legs, with the upper-half being a mass of long writhing appendages like snakes.
‘We’re calling them “medusas”,’ Riker said. ‘The name seems appropriate.’
‘These have to be made beings,’ Picard said emphatically. ‘I don’t doubt that they’re somehow being remotely controlled. Which leads me to speculate,’ he added with an inward frown, ‘that to win this thing, we may have to make our way into the artifact itself and take on whoever or whatever is leading this army.’

Raya and Worf were about to go to the tunnel opening when Seagram roughly grabbed them by the arm. ‘Those “cats” near the tunnel entrance are guardians,’ he said in a low voice. ‘They keep outsiders away from members of the high caste. It’s okay if they come to you, but never go to them; not unless you’re known to them.’ The guardians were huge animals, utterly unlike those Worf or Raya had seen before.
They watched, listening, as something in the tunnel drew near. Suddenly, the guardians were on the move in formation, leading some sort of procession. And then, something dark, something enormous, began emerging from the dimly lighted passageway.
‘Oh . . . my . . . god . . .’ Seagram muttered. Dimly he was aware that Raya was clutching his arm tightly, her mien transfixed with awe. Worf’s jaw dropped in very un-Klingon-like open astonishment.
Out of the tunnel emerged members of the high caste: huge, hoary, ancient beasts that more resembled dragons than cats. They flowed silently like darkness and stealth personified, muscles rippling across shoulders, hips and backs. One of them let out a low growl that sent the entire underground chamber to trembling and reverberating like a seismic event.
There weren’t many of the great beasts- only six of them- but even such a small number was more than Seagram had ever dared hope to lay eyes upon. As soon as the small procession had passed, he, Worf, and Raya bearing little Sunshine, followed in their wake.

‘Let’s get these field generators set up and running right away, people ’ Geordi shouted. ‘Those uglies look like they’re getting ready to come at us ’ He was referring to the huge creatures accompanying the Valgoroth that walked on all fours.
‘The crewmembers have taken to calling them “gargoyles”,’ Data said as he erected a tripod and turned on a field generator, ‘but a gargoyle is a decorative ornament on a building that often is also a waterspout for redirecting runoff during rainfall-’
‘They’re calling them “gargoyles” because they’re grotesque and ugly, Data,’ Geordi replied as they got back on the cart to take up a new position and deposit another field generator on the wall.
‘I see,’ Data replied with a frown as they stopped and set up another field generator and turned it on. ‘Then anything grotesque and ugly might be referred to as a “gargoyle”?’
‘I guess, if it has a sort of demonic look to it,’ Geordi said as they got under way once more. All at once he came to an abrupt stop. ‘Look  They’re on the move  We’d better get this done as fast as we can.’ With that he gunned the cart forward, almost dumping their payload.

‘Captain . . .’
The tone of his counsellor’s quiet voice got Picard’s attention as much as though she’d shouted at him. He followed her gaze- and stared
‘Jean Luc, what are they?’ Beverly asked in the same low voice, as though fearing to speak aloud.
‘I don’t know, but we’re about to find out,’ he rejoined, barely aware of what he was saying. The sight of Seagram in tow of the great animals diverted his instinct to react to possible threat but did nothing to quell his unease at the sight of the massive, craggy-looking beasts whose great jaws looked as though they could effortlessly tear a man in half.
Those atop the wall stood aside as the procession took up position at the edge, forming a line and gazing down at the enemy in eyeless assessment. And then, they witnessed something that Seagram himself had never seen: organs inside the great animals’ heads began to glow dull-red.
In response, the Valgoroth on the plain below began uttering a strange sound like guttural barking. They raised up their antenna-like left arms, which began to glow in the dark, shadowing their ebon shapes in crimson hues the colour of blood.
Noticing the suffused expression on Deanna’s face, Riker asked her, as though fearing what she might tell him, ‘What is it? Do you know what’s going on here?’
‘Will . . . something terrible is going to happen. There’s something inside the artifact . . . something we haven’t seen yet . . .’ she put her hands to her temples as though in pain. ‘It’s whatever is leading this army . . .’ She turned horror-widened eyes to his. ‘It’s coming ’
Without warning, the air was rent by an indescribable sound that was part subsonic howl, part seismic tremor. Those atop the wall put their hands to their ears reflexively and stared to the northwest where a dull red flicker like distant flame touched the horizon.
In response, the massive creatures atop the wall roared, a sound so powerful that the air trembled. Even after those atop the wall uncovered their ears, afterechoes continued to cannonade off and throughout the stone hills and valleys to the north.
Without warning, the gargoyles surged forward, pushing though the Valgoroth and medusae like enraged bulls charging through grass. At the last moment they reared up, standing on their short hind legs, and swung their massive arms down and against the shield wall-
It took Picard a moment to realise what had happened. With the sole exception of the cat-like animals, everyone else had been flattened by the impact. Scrambling to his feet, he took stock of his surroundings. The thunderous impact had left his ears ringing. Others getting to their feet were putting hands to head and ears, attesting to the force of the gargoyles’ impact.
He leaned over the parapet to inspect the enemy army. The medusae and Valgoroth in the vanguard had been likewise flattened and were recovering themselves. The gargoyles, however, were still standing, and seemed to be gathering themselves-
‘Brace for impact ’
With his ears covered this time, and expecting the force of impact on the shield wall, the captain steeled himself-
-only to be knocked senseless once again. Only this time he had watched the shield generators, and with an ugly knot forming in his belly recognised the inevitable. The shield wall was only moments from collapsing  His long experience of command sent him to his feet and into action. ‘Get everyone out of here ’ he shouted to his first officer. ‘Mr Seagram, I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but you’ve got to get these creatures to follow us out of here.’
Seagram gaped at him as though he were insane. ‘You’ve got to be joking  You don’t tell these creatures anything, not unless you want to get them seriously pissed off at you, and trust me, you do not want to see what happens when they get angry.’
‘Then what do you suggest?’ Picard demanded, unable to keep sarcasm out of his voice.
Seagram thought a moment. ‘The only thing we can do is move everyone away from here and watch what they do, and if they go on the move, the best thing we can do is follow them. Trust me,’ he said before Picard could protest, ‘they know better than we do what’s going on here and how to deal with it. Following their lead might make the difference between fighting those things out there and getting massacred.’
Picard held him with his gaze a moment, taking the measure of him. Then, apparently having come to a decision, he said, ‘Let’s get everyone into those landriders of yours and get the hell out of here. We’ll stall for time so that we can get as much equipment and supplies loaded into them as possible. With your permission, we’ll blow this place behind us in order to keep the enemy from following us.’
Seagram considered the impending destruction of all his hard work with a sick look but nodded resignedly. ‘All right. I only have a limited supply of explosives . . . blasting through rock is pretty much a thing of the past. We cut through it these days: less damage, less waste that way. I’ll give you what I have, but don’t be surprised if I don’t leave a few surprises for those bastards.’

To Picard’s relief the cat-like animals wasted no time leaving the wall and heading for the tunnels. It disturbed him, however, that they seemed to be communicating with one another. If Seagram was right, every one of these creatures were aware of what was taking place here. And if that were true, how were they going to react? Were they as trustworthy as Seagram believed?
They were just piling into the loaded landriders when the dull thud of an explosion shook the complex. The shield wall had been breached- possibly the wall itself had been blown inward. With a roar the landriders headed for the tunnel entrance in orderly single-file and began making the ascent towards the upper plain. No sooner had the last landrider begun its ascent when the dull crump of explosions began coming to their ears through the ground as explosives first blasted the face of the bluff, then the complex itself, into rubble.
‘That ought to slow them down, at least,’ Seagram growled as he drove. To Worf’s delight, the great beasts had elected to accompany them in the landriders. Two of the largest creatures were in the back of their vehicle and allowed him to ride with them.
‘I’m sorry for the trouble we’ve brought you,’ Picard said.
Seagram huffed in response. ‘As bad as this is, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s not every day something really new turns up in your back yard.’
‘You’re not angry?’ Raya asked him.
He actually smiled. ‘I am, and in a way I’m not,’ he said. ‘Besides, I’m serious. No matter how this turns out . . .’ he was silent a long moment, thinking. At last, to Picard, he said, ‘You know we’ve got to get inside that thing. We need to know how big the enemy’s army is, what their resources are, who’s behind this. My opinion, for what it’s worth, is that this is just a diversionary tactic. I think your counsellor is right, that something much worse is to come. There could be entire worlds or an entire universe of invaders inside that thing.’
‘Or we could be looking at their entire army,’ Picard replied thoughtfully. ‘But you’re right: someone has to get inside the artifact and assess what we’re up against.’
‘You do not know what you are saying ’ Raya told them. ‘The artifact is chimera  You will discover nothing but what it wants you to see.’
‘I wonder . . .’ Picard said. ‘Lt Raya, you only touched the artifact from what I understand. You didn’t actually go inside it. Isn’t it possible that your experience would have been much different if you had actually entered it? Perhaps you were only tricked into believing that what lies inside is illusion.’
‘“Tricked” means being manipulated through conscious intent,’ she rejoined. ‘The artifact itself is an act of nature. It is not an entity, conscious or otherwise. Although . . .’ she added thoughtfully, ‘perhaps something inside it is able to exercise some sort of influence by using it, either as a conduit or medium. After all, it does appear that the creatures issuing from it are guided by the mind of a single being. Perhaps your answer lies somewhere in that.’

Seagram slowed the convoy as they neared an egress on the upper plain. He flipped a panel open as he drove and activated the vehicle’s scanners.
‘Everything appear’s to be all clear,’ he muttered as the others leaned over around him for a better view of the display. He flipped a few switches and brought up a display of the entire area with the enemy highlighted.
‘Nice,’ Riker commented. ‘A view from the Enterprise’s scanners couldn’t do any better. How far does this system go?’
‘All over the planet,’ Seagram told him. ‘I had it installed for keeping track of wildlife populations and activity. Never knew it would come in handy for . . . other things.’
‘It appears they’ve left the artifact unguarded,’ Data put in. ‘Perhaps we should avail ourselves of this opportunity before something changes.’
Seagram gunned the landrider ahead, drawing the convoy in his wake. ‘There’s another facility sixty kilometres or so north of here,’ he told them. ‘We’ll head there, first. I’ve got smaller vehicles there which are much faster and more manoeuvrable than landriders. Plus,’ he admitted reluctantly, ‘unlike the landriders, they’re armed.’
‘Armed?’ Picard asked him. ‘What sort of vehicles are they?’
‘You’ll see,’ Seagram replied cryptically. ‘The old facility is a throwback to when I first arrived here. This place was raided frequently before the planetary defence system was up and running. The defence system is fully automatic, and when I realised that ground forces were no longer necessary I let them go.’
‘You seem to have a way of isolating yourself,’ Raya commented.
Seagram raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing.

Within the hour they came in sight of the old facility. It too was a walled affair and appeared to be a circular concrete bunker ringed every hundred feet by stations with small black-tinted windows. Seagram drove towards a depression that led to a low-lying door which opened as they approached.
The gate led to a ramp which took them back up on to the plain within the facility. Seagram turned to the right and drove for some distance until they came to a ramp which led underground. Within moments they were traversing a vast underground motor pool with equipment and land vehicles, but eventually they came to a more open area with high ceilings that was a pool of very different type- for air and space craft.
‘We’ll park over there,’ Seagram told them, ‘then get some gear together and take some of those, and head for the artifact.’
Those were a number of unimpressive-looking things laying together on the pavement which appeared to be nothing more than seats attached to frames studded with boxes.
‘And how are those going to get us to the artifact?’ Riker queried as they disembarked.
‘Very quickly,’ Seagram said with a smirk that caused Will to study the things mistrustfully.

Chapter 6

‘Here,’ Seagram said, tossing Raya a small handheld device. ‘Whatever you do, don’t lose it.’ He gave one to each of his companions.
‘How quaint,’ she said, following in his wake with little Sunshine in his armour at her heels. ‘What is it for?’
Seagram and Raya walked toward the unimpressive sight of seats attached to frames followed by Picard, Riker, Worf, Data, La Forge, Deanna and Beverly. ‘This,’ Seagram said, pointing his handheld device at one of the objects. The others stared in surprise as the unimpressive thing seemed to magically transform itself into a small craft just big enough for one or perhaps two people to ride. ‘The bodies are virtual. Same idea as a holodeck, except these are for the great outdoors.’
‘Ni-ce,’ Geordi intoned as he turned his on and looked it over. ‘It’s fast, judging by the speedo . . . extremely light . . . wow, lots of power, lots of firepower . . . where the hell did you say you got these?’
‘I didn’t,’ Seagram replied in a tone that said and I’m not going to tell you.
‘Mr Data,’ the captain said, taking the android, Dr Crusher and his counsellor aside, ‘I want you to lead a strike team to harass the enemy and try to keep them drawn away from the artifact. Beverly, Deanna, I want the two of you to lead the defence of this facility; find a way to better protect it so that it doesn’t suffer the same fate as the one we just destroyed.’
‘If I may, sir,’ Data said, ‘I might be of more use to you inside the artifact.’
‘The truth is, Mr Data,’ Picard said, ‘we have no idea what affect the artifact may have on your positronic brain. You may fare better than ourselves, but on the other hand the electromagnetic radiation emitted by the subatomic matrix within might be harmful or damaging to yourself. It may even destroy you, and that’s a risk I’m not willing to let you take.’
‘If that is so, then why are you going, sir?’ Data asked him pointedly. ‘It could just as easily prove an environment toxic or deadly to humans.’
‘I’m gambling, Mr Data,’ Picard told him frankly. ‘That, and I’m going with my instinct.’
‘What if your instinct is wrong?’ Data asked him, in a way that told Picard the question was important to him.
The captain shrugged. ‘If I’m wrong, we may very well lose the battle.’
Data thought a moment, then said, ‘Then I will try to hope that you are not wrong.’

Worf was loath to leave the great beasts behind. To his Klingon mind they were objects of reverence, so ancient, hoary and powerful were they. But once they got under way his mind was consumed with interest for the strange craft they were driving.
The craft didn’t exactly fly: they repelled themselves from the ground at a distance that could be adjusted by throttling the antigrav drive. In a sense they could fly for short distances, but they were made for skimming over the land at speeds up to three hundred kilometres per hour.
Their arsenal, like their operation, was basic enough that a beginner could master their operation within minutes. The craft even had shielding, which was of enormous advantage if one were ambushed.
Worf felt a pang of misgiving as he looked ahead and saw that little Sunshine rode before Raya, his little body protected by armour. Little things had no business being in the midst of warfare, in his estimation. True, the little creature seemed fearless, and no doubt would try his best to show his worth, but the likelihood was that he would at best be a hindrance, and at worst pay for this adventure with his short life.

It wasn’t long before they came to the lip of the bluff which marked the end of the high plain. In the distance rolled the narrow low plain and beyond that stretched the sea.
Seagram didn’t bother with the road which ran down the cut which connected the high plain to the low, but to the others’ surprise shot straight toward the edge and over. Raya slowed to watch what happened, then followed suit as she saw that Seagram’s craft plunged at a controlled rate rather than dropped like a stone.
At the bottom they turned to follow the roadway to the right, and within minutes drew near to the location of the artifact.
‘It’s unguarded,’ Seagram shouted, checking his sensors. ‘At least, on the outside. There’s no telling what we’ll find on the inside.’
‘Number One, I want you to proceed first,’ Picard said to his first officer as they came to a stop and shut off their machines. ‘If all is well, I want Mr La Forge to follow. If your visor doesn’t operate in there, Mr La Forge, I want you out of there as quickly as possible.’
‘Understood,’ Geordi said brusquely. ‘Well, after you,’ he said to Riker.
They found that a ramp had been dug into the earth to the artifact, so that they were able to proceed in orderly fashion and stand in a semicircle before it. Riker put out his hand, tentatively, then thrust it into the artifact. Nothing. With a quizzical look in Raya’s direction, he leaned over and plunged into the alien portal.
After only a moment, his head reappeared. ‘It’s all clear, Geordi.’
Mr La Forge took a deep breath. ‘Okay, well, here goes nothing.’ He followed Commander Riker inside.
After a prolonged period, during which the others began to worry, a hand groped blindly through the opening. The rest of Geordi La Forge soon appeared. He appeared disappointed.
‘It’s no good,’ he said to the captain. ‘I’m as blind as a bat in there. You may as well leave the machines out here because our technology doesn’t seem to work in there.’
‘I was afraid of that,’ Picard said, sharing his disappointment. ‘I can only imagine what would have happened if I’d allowed Data to go in there.’
A ground-shaking roar caused the team to wheel around with a jerk. Plunging toward them at a run were six of the massive high-caste beasts and a dozen of their smaller counterparts as escort.
‘There are other advantages than technology,’ Worf said, a strange light kindled in his eyes as he watched the creatures draw near.
One by one the animals plunged through the opening, and one by one the team followed, save for Geordi who switched on his machine and headed back toward base.

‘Okay, now this is just plain weird,’ Seagram commented as he looked around. As far as the eye could see in any direction was the same flat grey plane punctuated by grotesque black shapes that looked roughly like trees. The “sky” was likewise grey, but a paler shade. There was no sun, no source of light to explain why they could see. He tried breathing experimentally, and spoke once more. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any air. I don’t think we’re actually breathing. Is it just me, or does my voice sound funny?’
‘It sounds kind of flat,’ Riker said. ‘I think the first order of business is to find something to mark the portal with. Anyone see anything that looks like a rock or something?’
Raya knelt down, removed her backpack, and produced a small marker beacon. Nothing happened when she switched it on, but she opened up its tripod base anyway and stretched out its telescoping shaft. ‘We should be able to see this for quite some distance.’ She pulled out a pad of paper and pencil and made a few markings. ‘Those tree things are all different. By keeping track of them we should be able to find our way around without getting lost.’
Worf, meanwhile, was watching the cat-like animals. ‘I believe they want us to follow them,’ he said.
‘Where?’ Picard asked in disparaging surprise. ‘How can they possibly know where to go in this place? I see nothing that appears to be any sort of structure. Unless,’ he added thoughtfully, ‘their senses are reacting to clues we can’t see.’
‘This place looks almost like a film-noir stage,’ Riker said. ‘Everything’s black and white, including us. Nothing has any colour. And as far as the air goes . . . I don’t think there is any. I don’t think we’re actually breathing.’
‘Not breathing?’ Worf said. ‘Then why are we not unconscious or dead?’
Riker shrugged. ‘I have no idea. I only know that this place feels sort of . . . two dimensional. Well . . . make that three dimensional, but in a two dimensional way.’
‘It is awfully flat,’ Seagram said, kneeling down and eyeballing the lay of the land. ‘It doesn’t appear to have curvature at all- hey  Wait up ’ The others were following the cat-like animals which had set off at a brusque walk.

‘Captain, those things that look a bit like trees . . .’ Riker’s voice trailed off.
‘Yes, Number One, I have noticed. They seem to be aware of our presence.’
‘I thought I saw one of them move ’ Seagram said. ‘If they can communicate like the Valgoroth, then whoever we’re up against knows we’re here.’
For the last half hour the huge cat-like animals set a steady pace, their direction unwavering as though they were as sure of their surroundings as they were of their destination.
‘Look  Worf blurted, pointing off into the distance. ‘It’s some sort of structure; a pyramid, perhaps.’
‘It does indeed look to be some sort of pyramid,’ Picard agreed, ‘and it’s a long ways off.’
‘You’re being awfully quiet,’ Seagram said to Raya. Sunshine, who trotted beside her, looked up as though in agreement.
‘This is nothing like my previous encounter with the artifact,’ she replied flatly. ‘Nevertheless, I do not trust what we seem to be experiencing.’
‘You don’t think this is real?’ he asked, surprised.
She looked to the great cat-like animals. ‘It seems to be real enough to them . . . but they are unlike us. Who can say what they see in this place?’
‘Captain ’ Worf’s warning, though quiet, bore an urgency that brought everyone to an abrupt halt. ‘The trees . . . I believe they are made up of Valgoroth ’
‘Oh, great ’ Riker muttered, advancing with the big Klingon to examine a tree-like structure, the closest they had yet encountered. And indeed the “tree” was made up of individual Valgoroth clutched together, the purpose of each individual possessing an arm instead of one leg suddenly becoming clear. The “trunk” was made up of several individuals; each “branch” consisted of members stretched out to form “limbs”. Riker walked around the “bole” experimentally. As he did so, the parts of the Valgoroth-tree swayed almost imperceptibly to track his movements.
‘Let’s keep moving,’ the captain ordered. ‘Come away, Number One, Worf. They may be waiting for some sort of provocation.’
They reluctantly got under way once more, but this time kept a wary eye to the Valgoroth-trees, watchful for any sign of activity.

Geordi La Forge did not like to be reminded of his handicap. The artifact not only had rubbed his nose in it, but had torn open the scar tissue of his psyche with an acuteness he hadn’t felt in years. The cat-like animals had inadvertently rubbed salt in his wounds when, despite their own blindness, they had plunged into the unknown with all the self-assurance of the sighted.
He was reminded yet again that his visor, though it provided him with a type of vision, was not the same thing as sight; that it had limitations, and it was a sore point with him that those limitations served to define him as a person.
Feeling shamed perhaps explains why he failed to follow a direct order to return to base, instead opting to check on the activity of the enemy without informing anyone.
Hunching over, he gunned the virtual machine to its three-hundred-kilometre-per-hour limit and went in search of the army that had issued from the ancient alien artifact.

Data felt a pang of something he couldn’t identify except by description, and wondered if he wasn’t feeling frustration. He found it an ugly sensation, one that made one pointless demand- that he give it his undivided attention.
Not giving it all his attention was proving a challenge, because without information to process he was left at loose ends. He could speculate as much as he felt like speculating, but without information the odds of his speculations being useful diminished exponentially.
‘A data-less Data desires data to sate a need for Data to have data,’ he hummed to himself, and began spinning his chair about. ‘Data is not Data without data, for he must process data to be Data.’
And then it occurred to him what the real problem was. The real problem was that he had been sent away from the artifact, when he very much wanted to sate his curiosity as to whether or not his positronic innards could function inside the artifact. After all, it was just as likely that organic matter should be at risk when exposed to a wholly alien physics.
It also occurred to him that Geordi was late, and getting later by the minute. Perhaps if he went to look for Geordi, he could, to use a human expression, “kill two birds with one stone” by having a quick look inside the artifact. After all, what would be the harm?
‘A data-less Data shall go forth and seek data,’ he hummed to himself, getting to his feet. ‘After all, Data is not Data without data.’

‘What have you got there?’ Deanna asked Beverly, looking over her shoulder. They were in the old outpost’s science lab, which conveniently commanded a southerly view from above the wall.
‘It’s a piece of one of the Valgoroth,’ Dr Crusher replied, her eyes to a powerful microscope made for scanning subatomic, atomic and molecular structures.
‘How on earth did you get it?’ the counsellor asked.
‘Geordi found it about a half hour ago. He said he found it laying on the ground not far from the artifact. I’m guessing this is the head-like appendage that Seagram shot off with that disc-sling of his. By the way, have you seen Geordi? I wanted to ask him a few questions.’
‘I was told that he took right off again,’ Deanna replied, ‘which means that both he and Data are now unaccounted for.’
‘Data?’ the doctor said sharply. ‘Where could he have gone? You don’t think-’
‘Oh, but I do think,’ Deanna cut her off. ‘Data has gone to the artifact and disobeyed a direct order.’
The doctor was silent a moment, considering the implications, then turned her attention back to the microscope. ‘Data was right about one thing: the Valgoroth are not sentient. They’re incredibly complex problem-solvers, but in a way that doesn’t require thought or consciousness. Take a look at this.’
‘And what am I looking at?’ Deanna asked her, baffled by what she saw.
‘You’re looking at an arrangement of matter that works like a calculator. The Valgoroth are the outward expression of one single problem-solving mechanism.’
Deanna frowned. ‘And just what problem are they trying to solve?’
‘First off,’ Beverly told her, ‘they are really an it. The Valgoroth are copies from a single template-’
‘You mean, like clones?’
‘More like parts stamped out by an assembly line. And they have one directive, which is to solve whatever stands in their way.’
Deanna gave her a look. ‘That doesn’t quite sound right. What if whatever is standing in their way isn’t something to be solved?’
‘That’s the problem,’ Beverly told her. ‘These things are from a universe that for us is sort of like two dimensions acting as three. To us it would look pretty much three-dimensional but would behave in a two-dimensional manner. What they are and what they do makes sense where they’re from, but it makes absolutely no sense in our three-dimensional universe, and I don’t even like to consider the implications of what might happen if they find ways to manipulate the stuff our universe is made of.’
‘Why? What could happen?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Beverly admitted, ‘but it could be particularly nasty because it would involve rearranging the subatomic structure of atoms in our universe.’
‘I remember reading something about this when I was in school,’ Deanna said. ‘Some physicists warned that playing around with subatomic structure might start a chain-reaction which could annihilate existence as we know it. But that sort of talk was compared to similar warnings of a steam locomotive travelling faster than a horse for the first time, or the first atomic explosion.’
‘There’s a difference,’ Beverly told her. ‘Once you’ve rearranged matter in favour of a new matrix, you’ve introduced whole new laws of physics, and under the right circumstances, if those laws come into conflict in a controlled manner, it’s possible to realign sectors of matter, just as you’d topple dominos.’
‘So . . . is there a way to stop them?’ Deanna asked.
‘I think there very well may be,’ Beverly said, ‘but it would mean destroying whatever is controlling these things, right at the source. Which means that we have to get word to the captain right away.’ She huffed in annoyance. ‘Geordi and Data couldn’t have gone missing at a worse time ’

‘Whoa  What the hell is that?’ Geordi manoeuvred his vehicle up the side of the cliff by angling towards the rock and driving at it, which he had discovered earlier caused the vehicle to compensate by climbing. He found what he was looking for- a small cave in the rock face- drove into this, switched the vehicle off, hunkered down, and peered from behind a concealing shoulder of rock to study the object of his attention. The Valgoroth appeared to be directing the gargoyles in the construction of a Stonehenge-like artifact, only the centre of the structure was pulsating with some sort of energy. ‘This is not good ’ Geordi muttered to himself. ‘It looks like they’re building some sort of energy-matter converter . . . if they manage to change the subatomic matrix of our universe, even on a small scale . . . I’ve got to warn the others ’

Data found the artifact unguarded, and proceeding with caution stuck his hand into it. Nothing. Experimentally, he pushed only his face into it, leaving his positronic brain on the outside.
‘Fascinating ’
Seeing no reason not to proceed, he moved bodily into the alien artifact.
He noticed right away an almost indiscernible movement from a tree-like structure which his positronic brain deduced from structural regularities was comprised of Valgoroth.
‘Intriguing ’
He moved closer to study the structure, at once attempting to deduce a reason for it. His brain was able to comprehend something the others had missed entirely- that it was radially symmetrical, something one would only be able to see from above. Data craned his neck to look above, but the sky was a grey blank from horizon to horizon.
He turned about once, slowly, trying to deduce in which direction the others had gone. He had almost completed his turn when he saw it- a far-off black pyramid-like structure.
He could think of nothing else to do, so he began walking.

‘It can’t be,’ Seagram muttered as they approached the base of the massive structure.
‘It does seem to be made entirely of Valgoroth,’ Raya said as though to affirm what he was seeing. She put Sunshine down.
‘In an odd sort of way it makes sense,’ Captain Picard said, regarding the compressed tangle of bodies and limbs, ‘considering how few physical forms there are in this world.’
‘There’s something almost computer-like about it, for lack of a better word,’ Riker said.
‘What do you mean?’ Worf asked him, his eyes on the eighteen cat-like animals which had come to a stop, the twelve escorts waiting behind the six enormous high-caste beasts.
‘It’s like there are only a few templates,’ Riker replied. ‘Everything made from those template is absolutely identical. Computer programmes are like that.’
‘Looks like they’ve figured out where the front door is,’ Seagram remarked as the cat-like creatures suddenly began moving as a body, turning to the left. Moving at a brusque pace, the team followed in their wake.
As they made their way, Seagram studied the tangle of Valgoroth bodies that made up the massive pyramid. ‘Why aren’t they crushed?’ he asked no one in particular.
‘A pyramid is a very efficient structure,’ Riker replied. ‘Each layer supports the layer above, which decreases in size and weight exponentially.’
‘Which explains why gymnastics teams utilize its properties,’ Picard put in.
‘These Valgoroth are aware of us,’ Worf cautioned, noting how they reacted as the team passed. ‘I do not like this. We are at the doorstep of a potentially vast army. Whatever is inside this pyramid is no doubt awaiting our coming. We should prepare ourselves.’
Seagram stifled a chuckle.
Glaring, Raya said, ‘I fail to understand your sense of amusement.’
Her look only prompted Seagram to quiet laughter.
‘Perhaps you’d like to share?’ the captain said in a warning tone.
‘I was just thinking,’ Seagram replied. ‘You mentioned gymnastics teams. The first thing that popped into my head when you said that is what they do at the end of their routine, only I envisioned them doing it once we’d gone inside.’
As realisation set in, some of the others found themselves unable not to grin.
‘Why is that amusing?’ Worf demanded.
‘Worf,’ Riker said to the big Klingon, ‘remind me to tell you about slapstick humour.’
‘I do not find slapstick amusing,’ Worf grumbled.
Raya, who likewise did not share their sense of humour, shook her head. ‘Humans ’

‘Deanna  Have a look at this ’
Troi joined Beverly Crusher at the view screen which showed details of the piece of Valgoroth at the border between the atomic and subatomic levels. ‘What on earth  What is it? It looks like viewscreen static.’
‘Yes, but watch this ’ Beverly said in excitement as she modulated the frequency of the apparatus.
‘Oh my god ’
‘It’s a fusion of some sort of subatomic process and information processing,’ the doctor said, pointing to the analysis readout. ‘It must have occurred naturally, and I’m guessing that it’s a distant ancestor of organic matter.’
‘But . . . what information is it processing?’ Deanna asked her.
‘That’s just the thing,’ Beverly replied. ‘It’s going through the motions of processing even though there’s no external input.’
‘So . . . because it’s not sentient . . . it hasn’t yet evolved a sense of purpose to it actions?’ Deanna wondered slowly.
Beverly’s returning look was disconcerting. ‘If you assume that life has a built-in sense of purpose. There are those that think that life at its basis is nothing more than a self-perpetuating process that exists solely because of complimentary conditions of being and environment. The question at hand, however, is, “Can we stop or control this thing?”’
‘That’s if you assume the meaning of life to be less important,’ Deanna muttered tartly as she began helping Beverly set up testing equipment.
At that moment Geordi rejoined them, slightly out of breath.
‘Where on earth have you been?’ Beverly demanded.
‘I decided to take a quick look at what the Valgoroth are up to,’ he told her, and cut off her protestations by saying, ‘They’re building some sort of matter-energy converter  It looks like they’re trying to set up a chain-reaction aimed at converting matter in our universe to theirs  If they’re successful, I don’t know just how far the conversion process will go. Maybe it’ll just be a local effect like an atomic blast, but it might be worse. Far worse.’
Geordi and Deanna watched as Beverly considered. At last, she said, ‘Let’s get to work. Damn Data anyway  We need him here. And damn you too, Geordi  You should at least have let us know what you were up to.’
Geordi wisely didn’t reply, but got right to work.

Data considered the massive pyramid-like structure with interest. ‘The Valgoroth have many uses, it seems,’ he said to himself. ‘I wonder why the medusae and gargoyles do not? Everything in this world seems to be about the Valgoroth, and that would seem to indicate that they’re a central template, whereas the medusae and gargoyles may be nonce creations.’
He found the entrance without difficulty but stopped to consider carefully before committing himself. ‘The others have no doubt gone this way, as there is no other entrance. There is something disturbing about this situation, however. Whatever awaits them inside knows they are coming, and evidently desires some sort of direct confrontation. But the possibility of meaningful communication is remote at best, therefore there is the very real possibility that they are walking into a trap. If that is the case then I too would be following them into the same trap. And since there would be nothing gained if all of us are trapped, I will remain here and await the outcome.’

The team at last came to a halt as the cat-like beasts ahead of them stopped abruptly. Having reached the centre of the pyramid-like structure, they found themselves at the entrance to a massive inner chamber. What drew their attention, however, was what lay inside.
‘I’m just guessing here,’ Seagram muttered, ‘but I’ll bet that thing is running the show.’
The team, including the eyeless cat-like creatures, stared upwards at a vast, seething, formless mass.
Riker switched on a piece of equipment, only to toss it aside with a curse as it overloaded in a shower of sparks. ‘Whatever kind of energy that thing’s made of, just trying to get a reading fried my tricorder. But it looks like it’s some sort of matter-energy matrix- whoa  What the hell are they doing?’
The cat-like creatures suddenly plunged on ahead with a roar, sensory organs in their heads glowing. In response, the powerful object thrummed with might. At its centre something began to take shape and descend. By the time it reached the ground, it was a fully-formed gargoyle.
The team watched in dread interest as the huge cat-like creatures moved towards and encircled it.
‘Hold your position, Mr Worf ’ Captain Picard barked as the big Klingon moved to join them. ‘We don’t yet know what they intend to do.’
Like a giant gorilla, with short, thick back legs and long, massive arms, the gargoyle shifted its mass left, then right, its tiny head-like appendage swivelling as though trying to decide what to do.
There was a collective intake of breath as the gargoyle lifted a massive fist over one of the cat-like creatures. Instantly, the cat-like creatures shifted position, moving clockwise around the ungainly gargoyle. If the grotesque giant had had a face and eyes, they would have said that it stared stupidly at the circling animals, unable to choose a target.
At once the environment within the pyramid began thrumming once more, and again, from the centre of the energy-matter object, a gigantic form coalesced and descended to join the first. Then came a third form, and a fourth-
‘I think we’d better get the hell out of here,’ Riker said as the great cat-like animals backed off as a body, seeing they were overmatched.
‘Agreed,’ the captain rejoined without hesitation. ‘In fact, I think we’d better make a run for it ’ This, because the gargoyles were surging straight towards them.
‘You don’t happen to have a plan B?’ Seagram said as they began running.
A faint sensation touched upon Data’s positronic senses, causing him to try to make sense of it. A dull throbbing, like that of a great subterranean machine, was emanating from the pyramid-like structure. And then, there came the sound of movement from the Valgoroth which made up the entrance. They were shifting position in a complex, interlocking fashion.
It took Data only a moment to realise that they meant to close the opening. With instant deliberation he pitted his android strength against the gnarled ebon limbs of the Valgoroth, preventing them from sealing off the only entrance to the great pyramid.
But the Valgoroth were many, and could shift their efforts at will, so he was hard put to keep the opening clear. Within moments he stood amid a tangle of clutching, grasping limbs as they tried to reach one another, which in turn redoubled their ability to pull the opening closed.
‘Data  Stand out of the way ’
‘But-’ he protested the captain’s order in confusion.
‘Data, move ’
Data sprang away from the opening just in time as the big cat-like animals crashed through in a scattering of broken Valgoroth limbs.
The team didn’t pause for breath but began running for the artifact’s opening.
‘Sir, what have you learned?’ Data asked as he jogged beside the captain and William Riker.
‘That there’s an enormous matter-energy source in there, and it has it in for us,’ Riker replied, taking a look over his shoulder.
Even as he glanced back, the gargoyles came crashing through the pyramid wall like a battering-ram, scattering Valgoroth like shards of shattered ebony.
‘Look ’ Raya’s shout almost brought them up short. Ahead of them the Valgoroth “trees” were disassembling themselves.
‘They’re trying to prevent us from reaching the exit,’ the captain said.  ‘We have no choice but to fight our way through ’
‘If I may, Sir,’ Data said. ‘The Valgoroth are strongest when they can work together. I shall attempt to disperse them somewhat.’ With speed and reflexes far beyond human ability, the android began running through the Valgoroth lines, pausing occasionally to hurl one into a mass of bodies, knocking them over like ninepins.
Meanwhile, the cat-like creatures ran the Valgoroth down with disdainful might, forging through them as though ploughing a track through a thicket.
They were suddenly through  And just about to plunge through the opening to their own universe, when a shout from Riker brought them up short.
‘Data ’
They stared in frozen horror as the android went down under a tangle of bodies. Fixing the captain with his eyes, he shouted, ‘Leave me  They are too many  There is nothing you can do ’
Seeing the truth, the captain tore his agonised gaze away and ordered the team out of the artifact. He turned for one last look but Data had disappeared into a mass of writhing black forms that kept coming from every direction. And with that the android was lost to them.

Chapter 7

‘There is something that has been bothering me,’ Raya said, her head pillowed on Seagram’s shoulder. It was late at night and they were back at the encampment. ‘Something other than the loss of the android.’
Seagram chuckled at that. ‘Several hours of lovemaking and that mind of yours is still hard at work.’ They were both silent for several moments. At last, he said, ‘Okay, what is it that’s bothering you?’
‘That we refer to those things out there as “Valgoroth”,’ she told him. ‘When I first touched the artifact, I was shown what seemed to be an alternate version of the present in which you referred to creatures exactly resembling those things as “Valgoroth”. Was it purely chimera, I wonder, or is there more to it? I mean, where did that name come from? Not from the artifact or from those things- that much is certain. Neither have demonstrated the type of comprehension that is related to the forming of words or speech.’
‘So? What do you think?’
She sighed, making little circling motions with her fingers in the hair of his chest. ‘I am thinking that the Valgoroth may be copies of living things, that the original Valgoroth may have encountered that matter-energy force inside the pyramid several millennia ago.’
Something in Seagram’s chest responded by going cold at that. ‘You think it was attempting to trap us so that it could make copies of us? But instead . . . oh my god ’
‘What is it?’
Seagram was suddenly out of bed, pulling her by the hand after him, heading for the shower. ‘Information processing ’ he snapped. ‘That thing wasn’t after us  It was after the android ’

At that very moment the android in question found himself confronted with something, the like of which had never been dreamed of in his positronic sleeping or waking: an entity of incredible power which, though astonishingly active in calculation and action, could be said to be only vaguely on the threshold of conscious awareness, if at all. It calculated because it was the process of calculation incarnate; it acted because action is the physical expression of calculation. What it calculated was whatever came its way, and when it sensed Data, Data himself, simply by existing and being at hand, tipped the scale of calculation toward being included in the process.
The Valgoroth had released him when his attempts to escape ceased as he was brought before the monstrous entity that dwelled within the pyramid. He was free to go where he pleased, he assumed, so long as he didn’t attempt to escape.
‘Hello,’ Data said to the entity. ‘I am Data. Are you a conscious entity capable of meaningful communication? Or are you merely a seething mass of subatomic energy that is nothing more than a primitive force of nature?’
To Data’s emotionless astonishment, the entity boomed a reply that reverberated and thundered throughout the pyramid. ‘Hello. I am Data. Are you a conscious entity capable of meaningful communication . . . or are you merely a seething mass of subatomic energy that is nothing more than a primitive force of nature . . . Hello. I am Data. I am . . . Data. I am.’
If Data was capable of awe, it showed only in his stare. After several moments, he said quietly, almost reverently, ‘Fascinating ’
‘That’s what I was afraid of,’ the captain muttered as Dr Beverly Crusher and Chief Engineer Geordi La Forge showed him their findings. They had concluded that the process that was the Valgoroth could no more be halted than the law of gravity repealed. ‘Well . . . have you any suggestions? Is there any way we can we beat this thing on its own terms?’
‘There is one thing we could do,’ Geordi said reluctantly, ‘but it’s kind of a doomsday scenario.’
The captain fixed him with an unblinking, steely stare. ‘Explain.’
‘It would mean collapsing this planet’s star into a black hole,’ Geordi told him. ‘We have the means on board the Enterprise to do it. But,’ he added, ‘it would also mean sacrificing the ship as the means of delivering the components of a subatomic implosion to the star.’ He shrugged. ‘We’d have to abandon ship and make sure we got the hell out of here.’
‘You’re talking about destroying this planet,’ Seagram said, his face darkening with rage. ‘You’d end up killing everything on it.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Geordi said quietly, ‘but I honestly don’t know what else we can do.’
‘Find another way,’ Seagram said in a cold voice that made the others uneasy. ‘I’m not leaving this place. If you take out this system, you’ll have to take me out with it.’ With that, he spun on his heel and left the room. Raya stared after him but didn’t or couldn’t move.
‘Geordi?’ Riker said quietly. It was almost a plea.
‘I’ll work on it,’ Geordi replied apologetically, ‘but I can’t promise you anything. In the meantime, you’d better start on the conversion of the Enterprise. If that thing out there manages to get loose, we’re talking about a lot more than the destruction of one system.’

‘Seagram?’ Raya said quietly to catch his attention. He had gone to an adjoining room with a view overlooking the plain. ‘Linus?’ She held little Sunshine in her arms.
‘This world has struggled on the verge of extinction since the beginning,’ he said, his gaze fixed in the distance. ‘Its life-forms have fought and clawed their way back from the brink countless times. If it’s going to end like this . . .’ he shook his head. ‘I’m not leaving. I’ll fight for them with my last breath if I have to.’
‘Have you not considered the possibility that they were destined for extinction?’ she asked him gently. ‘After all, if you had not come here this planet would soon have been a barren, lifeless rock.’
‘I do not believe in fate or destiny,’ he told her. ‘It’s not in my nature. What is in my nature is the struggle. If that means going down fighting, so be it. I can accept any outcome so long as I’ve given my best.’
‘If that is your decision,’ she replied, ‘then it will be my honour to stand at your side.’
‘You’re crying,’ he said in quiet disbelief as he took her in his arms.
‘Are you surprised? After all, I want there to be a future for us. And for little Sunshine and all his kind.’

‘What are you doing?’ Riker asked Worf. The big Klingon was laying out a number of weapons Seagram had given him.
‘I am preparing to do battle,’ Worf answered, examining a disc-sling. ‘La Forge has told me that Seagram’s animals are somehow able to interfere with the Valgoroth energy bursts. I am going to test the accuracy of his claim. And,’ he admitted, ‘I am not good at waiting for an enemy to come knocking at the door.’
‘I’m coming with you,’ Riker announced. ‘In fact, let’s assemble a strike team. Maybe we can exact a little payback for losing Data-’ they stopped talking as they became aware that Seagram and Raya had joined them.
‘You’re not going anywhere without me,’ Seagram told them.
‘Or me,’ Raya added.
They looked down to see Sunshine studying them. He was wearing his little suit of armour.
‘You can watch,’ Seagram conceded, ‘but that’s all. You’re not getting too close to all the action.’
Sunshine responded with a disgruntled growl.
‘I mean it ’ Seagram said sternly, though it was plain he was having difficulty maintaining a straight face.

The captain sighed, faced with the would-be leaders of the strike team. ‘All right,’ he said reluctantly, ‘but I’m going with you. If we’re to save this planet, we need to buy enough time for La Forge and the others to come up with a means to shut down the enemy’s ability to convert matter’s subatomic matrix. I wouldn’t agree to this,’ he added pointedly, ‘unless the concerns at hand were not potentially so far-reaching.’
‘You’re thinking that someone may someday manage to create a doomsday device,’ Riker said, anticipating his captain’s thoughts.
‘The thought has occurred to me,’ Picard admitted, ‘and it is for that reason that we must find a solution to this problem if we can. Simply put, the day may come when we may need it.’

‘I do not trust these contraptions,’ Worf groused as they switched on their machines and watched as the virtual parts appeared. ‘If something were to fail, the rider would be left riding little more than a bicycle frame.’
‘Just about everything that can fly can fall like a rock,’ Riker commented as they mounted. ‘Besides, it’s not like these things fly ‘way off the ground.’
‘Their velocity is more than sufficient to cause fatal injury,’ the big Klingon grumbled as he checked over the virtual console display.
‘If it’s any consolation to you,’ Seagram said as they got under way, ‘these things are equipped with ejection seats.’ With a deafening whine, he and the others were under way, leaving Worf to belatedly realise that the human’s comment was intended as humour.
‘Very amusing,’ Worf said sourly as he gunned his machine ahead to rejoin the others.

‘Huh ’ Geordi commented as they passed through the rubble which had been the stone wall and came in sight of the outcropping. ‘It was there before, right where the entrance used to be. Wait, my visor’s picking up something . . . it looks like some sort of power emanation coming from inside.’
‘I’m surprised this place looks pretty much intact after all the explosives that went off,’ Riker said.
‘It’s only the tunnel entrances that got blown up,’ Seagram told him. ‘I didn’t have much explosive to begin with, and that rock is pretty darned tough.’
‘This place is as good as any to set down our machines,’ Picard said. They were near a small boulder-studded knoll that afforded a place of concealment for their transportation. ‘The Valgoroth do not appear to have set a watch. Without their leader here to guide their actions, I very much doubt they have the intelligence or the foresight to set a trap for us. Still, let’s use all caution, shall we?’
‘Oh, great ’
They turned to see what had caused this outburst from Seagram and discovered that the huge high-caste members of the armour-clad cat-like animals and their entourage were trotting toward them from their place of concealment- a pile of rubble that had been the wall.
‘Sunshine is certainly glad to see them,’ Raya said, placing the little creature on the ground and watching as he galloped excitedly toward them in his little suit of armour. ‘And I do not think that his presence here is unwelcome or unexpected.’
‘I’d forgotten about that,’ Seagram said thoughtfully. For the others’ benefit, he said, ‘Any one of them can act as a set of eyes and ears for the others. They’ve no doubt been keeping tabs on us through the little guy.’
‘I wonder . . .’ Picard muttered. Aloud, he said, ‘They do seem able to impair the ability of the Valgoroth to use those energy wands they have in place of their left arms. Perhaps they may be able to assist us.’
‘It’s not the Valgoroth I’m worried about,’ Seagram said. ‘Taking down the gargoyles is going to be a problem. And the medusae . . . we don’t know what they are yet or what they can do.’
‘I do not know about the medusae,’ Worf said, ‘but I think I know of a way in which the gargoyles may be dealt with.’

‘Hey, you in there ’ Geordi yelled, tossing a rock into the entrance. ‘C’mon out and play ’
‘“Come on out and play”?’ Riker echoed.
Geordi shrugged. ‘Why not? I don’t think it really matters what we say to them. We just have to get their attention. See? It’s working.’
‘H’m . . . just medusae,’ Geordi muttered as they began backing away. ‘I wonder what the gargoyles and Valgoroth are up to?’
If they hoped to provoke the gargoyles into coming out, they were disappointed. Only the medusae came toward them.
If the strike team meant to convey nonchalance in the face of danger it was extinguished by their first close-up look at the medusae. Half again as tall as a man, they had muscular arms instead of legs; above their waists flowed a writhing mass of tentacles. They looked for all the world like horrific living trees out of some long-forgotten ancient myth.
‘Whoa  They’re a lot faster than I thought ’ Geordi yelped as they mounted their machines and sped to a safe distance. The medusae pursued them at a pace equal to a galloping horse, their tentacles hissing with menace.

‘No gargoyles yet, Mr Worf’ captain Picard muttered through his communicator as the terrifying creatures vomited forth from the entrance. He could just see the big Klingon and members of his hand-picked security team at a point above the entrance. ‘We’ll let you know if and when any come forth.’
‘Aye, sir,’ came Worf’s reply.
‘They don’t look like much from a distance,’ Geordi announced breathlessly as he and Riker rejoined the strike team, ‘but up close they are right big and nasty ’
‘Well, hopefully this won’t be a case of “here goes nothing”,’ the captain said, raising his arm. With a stentorian utterance whose power surprised those surrounding him, he shouted, ‘Weapons at the ready ’
With that, eighty disc-slings were drawn full back, ready to fire.
‘Release ’
With a whipping sound, eighty weighted, razor-sharp and razor-thin metal discs were sent ripping through the air at the medusae. Most found a mark as the ungainly creatures rushed forward in a knot. The effect was immediate: tentacles and limbs were severed, slashed, scored, separated, or left hanging by a thread.
Despite their losses some of their number were able to reach the strike team. As though guided by individual intent, each tentacle whipped out to wrap itself around necks, arms, legs and torsos, or balled into fists at the ends and began lashing out. Within moments all was chaos as the strike team was forced to break into groups in order to deal with each medusa.
The creatures were horribly strong, and for a moment it seemed as though the strike team was doomed. But then, with a ground-shaking roar, the huge, cat-like animals surged forth and fell upon the medusae like a storm.
Raya had been about to fire a disc at a medusa that had taken down a number of personnel when a huge, dragon-like form charged the ungainly creature, seized it in massive jaws, and with a horrid crunching sound began shaking and dismembering it, until the medusa was a lifeless ruin.
The light of battle in his eyes, uttering a rarely-heard Klingon war-cry, Worf and his team above the entrance began hurling a rain of boulders down upon the medusae.
Seeing that the medusae were caught wholly unawares by this tactic, Riker, Seagram, Raya, the captain and the others surged forward drawing forth weapons made for personal battle- swords, machetes, scimitars, and a dozen other instruments of death, many of them not used in actual combat for centuries.
Seagram, who despite being in excellent physical condition, was wheezing for air like a wounded bagpipe, his shoulders, neck, lower back and thighs stiff and trembling with exhaustion as the battle raged, and he wondered at the tireless ferocity of Raya at his side who wielded a pair of wicked-looking ancient wide-bladed Romulan knives. She was as agile and lithe as a dancer, as beautiful and fierce as a goddess of war . . . as . . . as suddenly motionless as a statue? Leaning forward on his knees for support, Seagram turned to see what had her attention and that of the others.
As suddenly as it had begun the battle was over  All eyes were now on the cave entrance, their surroundings gone suddenly and ominously quiet. The only motion was the captain raising his arm, telling Worf and his team to maintain their position above the cave entrance.
‘I do not like this,’ Raya muttered, and Seagram wondered that she wasn’t even breathing hard. ‘Where are the gargoyles? Why do they not show us their main strength?’
It was then they heard it, faintly at first . . . a low sound emanating from the cave mouth.
‘What do you make of that?’ Riker muttered rhetorically as the captain and Seagram exchanged a look.
Raya, whose sense of hearing was sharper than theirs, said, ‘It is the sound of voices. Many of them.’
‘Let’s move in slowly,’ the captain ordered, leading them toward the cave entrance. As they progressed he indicated that teams were to advance to either side, flanking the cave entrance and keeping a careful eye on what lay inside.
As they gained the entrance, the leaders to the teams on either side of the entrance shook their heads. There was nothing to be seen from the cave mouth.
‘It’s all changed ’ Seagram said in wonder. ‘This isn’t the way the entrance was before. This tunnel leads straight ahead into the gut-rock underneath the plateau. They’ve filled in all the side passages with the stone they’ve tunnelled out . . . why would they do that?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ Riker told him.
‘Or anyone’s,’ the captain seconded. ‘They may have done it to remove the advantage of our knowing the lay of the land,’ he speculated, ‘but something tells me they did it for reasons entirely their own. That is, if they have any reasons. It could just as easily be the result of blind impulse on their part.’ He hesitated for a moment, reached a decision, then said, ‘Let’s go in, shall we-?’
They were taken off-guard by a dozen of the huge cat-like creatures that seemed to materialise out of nowhere and set off at a brusque pace into the tunnel, padding almost silently into the dark.
‘They seem to know what they’re doing,’ Riker commented.
‘If that is so, then we’d best take advantage of their having taken the initiative,’ the captain said as they surged forward in the great animals’ wake.

‘Whoa  Hold up a minute,’ Riker said, bringing them to a stop.
‘What is it, Number One?’ the captain asked him.
‘Look at the walls,’ Riker said carefully in a low voice.
‘Valgoroth ’ Raya bit off. ‘Like the pyramid, the entire tunnel is made of them-’ her sudden silence got their attention as though she had shouted at them. ‘We’re walking on them . . . they make up the ceiling, too.’
The captain and his first officer eyed each other warily.
‘Great  What do you think we should do?’ Riker asked him.
‘We’re in far too deep to think about backing out now,’ the captain said with a shrug in his voice. ‘They must know we’re here. If we retreat, there’s nothing to stop them from trapping us. I don’t think we have any choice but to continue on.’
‘So much for the element of surprise,’ Seagram muttered as they got under way once more.

They had gone several hundred feet when Seagram said, ‘Does anyone but me find it odd that we can see where we’re going? I’m not seeing any source of light. Heck . . . I’m not seeing any light at all ’
‘It feels the same to me as when we were inside the artifact,’ Raya said pointedly.
The sound of Worf’s voice came over the captain’s communicator.
‘Go ahead, Mr Worf.’
‘The Enterprise reports that we are very near an intense dimensional rift, that you are travelling towards the centre of it. Sir, they say that it is showing signs of becoming unstable ’
Unstable  Which could only mean-
‘Thank you, Mr Worf,’ the captain said in a throat suddenly gone dry. ‘Picard out.’ To the others he said, ‘This must mean that the Valgoroth have created an extension of the artifact. Perhaps they no longer need it in order to access the dimension or whatever it is they’re from. Regardless, if we’re not successful, and soon . . .’ the trailing off of his voice filled the others with dismay. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Seagram,’ he said very quietly, his voice flat with finality, with fatality. ‘I’m going to have to order the Enterprise to annihilate this planet. If it’s any consolation to you, the Enterprise and all its crew will share your fate and the fate of this planet.’
‘Let’s get going,’ Seagram muttered in a low, dangerous voice, shoving his way past them. ‘I’m not giving up while there’s still a chance.’
‘All right,’ the captain conceded, following in his wake, ‘but if we’re unable to do anything-’
‘I get it ’ Seagram bit off. ‘I don’t need reminding. Whatever else happens, I want to see what these bastards are up to.’

‘Look ’ Riker shouted, ‘there’s an opening  It must be the end of the tunnel ’
They began running, then bunched up reflexively and stopped as they came to the tunnel’s end.
‘Oh my God  That’s impossible ’ Riker stared incredulously into the vast underground cavern. There, in the distance, was what appeared to be a pyramid- the very structure that lay within the artifact. ‘It can’t be the same one, can it? How can it be in two places at once?’
‘If my memory of dimensional theory serves,’ Raya said hesitantly, ‘there is only one such structure and only one artifact. I believe we are within the artifact once more . . . the tunnel we passed through is merely another portal leading to the artifact’s interior-’
‘Data’s still inside that thing ’ Riker said intently. ‘Maybe we have another chance to rescue him ’

‘We’re getting nowhere,’ Beverley Crusher muttered in exasperation as she peered through the subatomic structural magnifier at the microscopic piece of Valgoroth. ‘Even if we figure out how its matter is organised, that won’t tell us anything useful about its function.’
‘Why not?’ Deanna Troi asked her. ‘Surely we can extrapolate something from the way it’s put together. I mean, there must be some forms of commonalities, otherwise why would the Valgoroth have what we clearly recognise to be arms and legs?’
‘The problem,’ Beverley told her, ‘is that their arms and legs seem to be copies, which I’m guessing were made of a species they had contact with millennia ago. The Valgoroth themselves seem to be a composite of various functions which were deemed to be useful by whatever it is that lives inside that pyramid.’
‘So . . . what . . . are you saying they were formless before that encounter?’
‘No,’ Beverley replied, ‘I’m saying that they didn’t exist prior to that encounter, that whatever is inside that pyramid made them after encountering some sort of alien beings. Maybe they were explorers and happened upon it by accident, and as a result of that encounter it copied certain aspects of the aliens it thought to be useful.’
‘And why do you think that?’ Deanna asked her.
‘I think that,’ Beverley rejoined, ‘because it seems that the entity or whatever it is that’s inside the pyramid hasn’t gone anywhere.’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe it can’t.’
‘You think it may be trapped inside there?’ Deanna asked with a frown.
‘I very much doubt it,’ Beverley told her. ‘After all, the pyramid is made of Valgoroth and it made the pyramid. No, I don’t think it’s trapped inside there. But I do think that maybe it lacks the ability to be mobile, which would explain why it reaches out through the things it makes.’
‘Guys ’ Geordi blurted, joining them, ‘I may have come up with something ’ He moved to take over the magnifier and inserted something.
‘What are you doing?’ Beverley demanded.
‘Here, I’ll put it on-screen,’ Geordi said as he worked, transferring the display to a large wall monitor. ‘There  You see that?’
‘It’s a bit grainy at this extreme magnification,’ Dr Crusher muttered as she moved closer to inspect the image. ‘But . . . okay . . . that is what appears to be the actual data stream.’
‘Exactly ’ Geordi told them. ‘It’s a bit iffy, but I think we may be able to get its attention, maybe even interact with it.’
‘How will this help us to do so?’ Deanna asked him.
‘Because I just found out that part of this structure exists in other dimensions,’ Geordi told them. ‘See, I get this same kind of distortion from my visor sometimes, and sometimes it’s because of limitations of my visor, but a few times it has been because things are just on the edge of what my visor can see, meaning that there’s a disruption of some sort in the fabric of time and space. I’m betting that this piece of Valgoroth is still connected to the rest of the dimension, or organism, or whatever you want to call it.’
‘So . . . what do I plug into it?’ Beverley asked him doubtfully. ‘A universal translator? A computer link?’
‘We need Data,’ Geordi told them. ‘Somehow we have to get to him. I’ve constructed an interface which will allow him to directly interact with this thing. The problem is . . . I’ve got to get inside the artifact to get it to him, but the moment I go inside the artifact I’m stone blind. So I need the two of you . . .’ he added apologetically.
The two women exchanged a look.
‘Not a problem, Geordi,’ Dr Crusher said emphatically. ‘We were getting tired of being cooped up in here. Weren’t we, Deanna?’
‘It’s far too safe in here,’ Deanna quipped. ‘Let’s go join the boys and get back in the action, shall we?’

At that very moment Data was conducting an interface of his own.
‘It would seem that you process both information and matter simultaneously,’ Data said to the entity, wondering all the while if it could understand him. ‘In fact, it could very well be that, for you, there is no distinction between the two. I am wondering if perhaps this process did not give rise to the existence of organic matter.’
‘It would seem that I process both information and matter simultaneously,’ the entity boomed. ‘It would seem that I am both information and matter simultaneously. I am both matter and information. Matter is information . . . information is matter . . . so it would seem . . . but is it so?’
‘There is so much for you to learn,’ Data said to the entity, ‘and so little time left for you to do it without destroying everything, everywhere.’

‘This can’t be good,’ Seagram said as he watched the huge cat-like animals. They had stopped well short of the great black pyramid and now seemed to be considering it, cocking their heads in an attempt to align their sensory apparatus’ with the massive structure.
‘Why?’ Riker asked him. ‘What’s happening?’
‘They’ve stopped because they can’t get a lock on that pyramid thing. Something’s blocking their ability to see it . . . that is, if sensory organs can be said to “see”.’
Raya backed off a step, pulling Seagram with her.
‘Something is happening  Can you not feel it? Perhaps we should remove ourselves to a safe distance.’
Something was indeed happening  The huge cat-like animals, which more resembled dragons at this formidable stage of their lives, were now standing stock-still, their heads lowered to align the sensory apparatus in their heads with the great black pyramid. It soon became apparent that they were doing more than simply attempting to scan the structure: the dull reddish colour generated by their sensory organs began asserting itself in their otherwise colourless environment. The effect, though silent, was harsh, earsplitting, skin-crawling . . .
‘Look ’
At first they thought that the massive structure was beginning to melt. It took them only a moment to realise with sick dread however, what was really happening.
‘This does not look good,’ Riker said to no one in particular as the pyramid disassembled itself and the massing army of Valgoroth began advancing towards them.
‘No, it decidedly doesn’t,’ the captain agreed and began shouting orders. ‘Everyone, spread out  Form two flanks  We’ll have to meet them head-on in order to prevent them from surrounding and overwhelming us. Retreat is not an option  Failure is not an option  Mr Worf,’ he shouted into his communicator badge, ‘you and your team are needed in here, right now ’
‘Aye, sir. We’re on our way.’
‘Well, Number One,’ the captain said to his first officer as he watched the Valgoroth army spread before them like a black sea of writhing bodies, ‘this could well be the last hour we serve together.’
‘I wouldn’t count us out quite yet,’ Riker replied as he watched the huge animals in awe. ‘Look  They seem to be having some sort of effect.’
As he spoke, angular shards of red light began piercing the lightless gloom within the artifact. The effect was painful, almost blinding. The Valgoroth responded by halting in their tracks, their voices of babel of guttural barkings and clicks. The energy wands they bore in place of left arms were pointed at the Federation defenders, but for some reason remained black, dead, powerless. Suddenly, the huge gargoyles in their midst began turning this way and that, apparently blinded. Enraged, they began lashing out in blind, undirected fury. A few came upon each other and began clashing like titans.
Captain Picard seemed to come to life, then. ‘This is it  This is our chance  Assume attack formations  Charge ’
With a roar, the entire Enterprise crew surged forward firing disc-slings into the bewildered Valgoroth, wielding ancient but deadly weapons, the like of which hadn’t seen battle for countless generations.
Worf and his team burst from the tunnel at that moment, slightly winded, the light of battle in their eyes. It took the big Klingon warrior only a moment to choose his target. ‘There  Where the walls of the pyramid are falling  We must fight to secure the android ’
Behind them streamed a hundred of the cat-like creatures, and in their wake trotted little Sunshine followed by Dr Crusher and Counsellor Deanna Troi leading Geordi La Forge who looked like anything but a blind man.

Chapter 8

Data frowned as the entity began to seethe. It took him a few moments to realise that the cat-like animals, in suppressing the sensory apparatus of the entity’s minions, had effectively blinded it. Yet blind though the entity was, the android could feel its awesome might beating upon his sensors.
‘Although the Enterprise crew has the decided advantage in the fight,’ Data said aloud, wondering if the entity could still hear him, ‘you present a grave danger to them. Are you able to listen to reason?’
Although formless, something of the entity’s posture, if it could be referred to as such, suggested that it considered the android’s words.
‘I do not think they are capable of causing you harm,’ Data said, choosing a reassuring tone of voice. ‘In fact, if you were to attempt to communicate with them, I think we could come to some sort of mutual . . . agreement, perhaps.’ It was almost a question.
The entity’s prolonged motionlessness led Data to think that it was considering his words. But then, without warning, it seemed to rise up into the chamber, then plunged downward with horrific force.
Knocked off-balance for a moment, the yellow-eyed android righted himself and tried to puzzle out what the entity was doing. What he was seeing was confusing to his sensors, but it seemed that the entity had forced a sort of downward bubble into the floor of the cavern. Or was it really the floor of its own world, leaving the cavern untouched and flat-bottomed as before?
As he tried to sort out this bifurcated confusion of his sensors, the entity rose up, then hurled itself downward once more, seizing the android as it did so.
A hole was forced into the bottom of the artifact, but strangely, not the cave bottom as well. In any event, the entity plunged into the hole it had made, still clutching Data who watched the proceedings with wide-eyed emotionless interest, and like a bubble detaching itself from a larger bubble, they vanished into the floor, leaving the cave bottom untouched as before.

‘What’s going on?’ Geordi shouted as the entity came crashing down, knocking down foe and defender alike like ninepins.
‘It’s the entity,’ Dr Crusher told him. ‘It’s . . . it just sort of reared up and came smashing down. Look  It’s made a big dent in the ground ’
‘Geordi, wait ’
Blind as he was, Geordi La Forge didn’t need anyone to tell him where the entity was or what it was doing. The sheer force of it beat on his brow like a desert sun, telling him exactly where it was, and he suspected what it was doing: attempting to break off a piece of the artifact like a bubble.
‘I’m coming, Data ’ With that, he went charging ahead, even as the artifact reared up once more and came crashing down.

Worf stopped short and helped the doctor and Counsellor Troi to their feet, even as the others arrived to help. ‘They are gone,’ he said as they turned their gaze to where Geordi had run. ‘Mr La Forge appeared to be attempting to succour the android. It appears that the entity has taken them both.’
‘But . . . where could they possibly have gone?’ Riker asked. ‘I mean, it appeared that the entity managed to break off a part of the artifact, but that should mean that they’d still be here, shouldn’t it?’
‘One would think so,’ the captain said thoughtfully. ‘After all, until the present time it appeared that the interior of the artifact was indivisible.’
‘Geordi went after Data,’ Dr Crusher said in a tone that drew everyone’s attention, ‘to give him a programme that may allow us to interact with the entity . . .’ her voice trailed off as she and everyone around her began looking around in amazement. ‘What the hell?’
Even as they watched, the walls of the tunnel and dead and broken Valgoroth and Gargoyles alike began taking on an odd hue, as though they were dissolving into two-dimensional black-and-white television static. There was a smell of ozone like electrical circuits burning, and then everything that had issued from the artifact was gone, leaving them in a vast underground cavern.
Anxiety tightening the skin around his eyes, the captain moved forward a step and struck his intercom badge urgently. ‘Enterprise, this is the captain  Do you have a fix on the artifact?’
‘Sir ’ a voice from the bridge responded, ‘it’s left the planet and is moving away fast ’
‘All hands ’ the captain shouted, ‘prepare to beam back to the ship ’
‘We’re coming with you,’ Seagram said firmly.
The captain considered them briefly, then said, ‘All right. Though at least, Mr Seagram, it seems that your planet is no longer in danger.’
‘If I may,’ Seagram put in, ‘I’d like to bring them along.’
The captain turned and frowned. “Them” was a number of the huge cat-like creatures and their entourage which seemed to be appraising him expectantly.
‘All right,’ he agreed slowly. ‘They’ve been of enormous help to us already. It could be that they still have a vital role to play before this is over.’

‘Do we still have a fix on the artifact?’ the captain said without preamble as and his senior officers exited the turbolift onto the bridge.
The young officer-in-training seemed relieved to relinquish the command chair to the captain. Rising with alacrity, he said with trepidation, ‘Sir, I have a team following the artifact in the shuttlecraft. I was afraid we’d lose it, so I . . .’ He trailed off, youth and uncertainty causing him to question the wisdom of his decision.
‘Well done ’ the captain said as he took his chair. ‘It seems you were well-chosen for your first command.’
‘Thank . . . thank-you, sir,’ the young man stammered as he left to return to his post.
‘He does you credit,’ Picard said to his first officer as they shared a knowing smile. ‘Be sure to put his name in for citation. In the meantime, let’s see if we can’t get an exact position on our quarry. Hail the shuttlecraft.’
‘Aye, sir,’ Worf responded, then frowned. ‘Sir, they are hailing us ’
‘Get a lock on their position, lay in a pursuit course and engage, maximum warp ’ the captain said tersely, springing into action. ‘On viewer.’
‘Sir ’ a young woman in the shuttlecraft responded urgently, another raw recruit left behind to manage the ship as all but a few of the crew had been despatched to the planet’s surface. ‘The artifact is almost out of range. I can’t maintain this speed much longer.’
‘Shut the shuttle’s engines down immediately and lock her down ’ the captain cautioned. As she did so, he said, ‘I’m surprised you managed to hold her together at that speed. In any event, prepare yourself. We’re going to do a high-speed beamout as we pass by your position.’
‘You’re leaving the shuttle here?’
‘That’s affirmative. We’ll return to pick up the shuttle later. In the meantime, get ready. High-speed beaming can be rather . . . disconcerting.’
‘Sir,’ Worf said, ‘we are approaching the shuttle’s position. Transporter room six has a lock on her.’
‘Engage,’ the captain said as they watched the young woman’s eyes go wide. As they watched, her voice modulated as her features dissolved in the transporter shimmer, accompanied by a wail of panic.
The captain was smiling as he punched an intercom button on the arm of his command chair. ‘Transporter room six, do you have her?’
‘Aye, sir,’ a voice responded dryly. ‘Could you send someone down here with a bucket and mop?’
‘Oh, I’m sure you can handle that yourself,’ the captain said, still grinning as he switched off. ‘Nothing like a bit of levity during a crisis, eh Number One?’
‘If you ever do that to me, you will live to regret it,’ his first officer warned, although he too was smiling.
‘In the meantime, are we still closing in on the artifact?’
‘Aye, sir,’ said the young officer who had assumed Data’s job. ‘It’s only doing a little better than warp six. We should be on top of it in . . . roughly eight minutes.’
The captain sighed, regaining seriousness as he considered the chronometer in the arm of his command chair. ‘All right . . . let’s see if we can’t find a way to get this thing to go to ground again on a class “M” planet. We can’t rescue Mr La Forge from space.’
‘We’re a long way from the nearest class “M” planet,’ Riker warned.
‘Be that as it may, Number One,’ the captain answered, his brow furrowed in thought.

Raya raised an eyebrow as she scrutinised the quarters assigned to herself and Seagram. Little Sunshine was poking about excitedly, hindquarters protruding from behind a dresser, his tail twitching.
‘How many people normally occupy this space, I wonder?’ she asked rhetorically.
‘One,’ he told her. ‘Two at the most. If these quarters seem large to you it’s because we humans need our space, especially when cooped up in a spacecraft for prolonged periods of time. Otherwise we tend to go a bit . . . loopy.’
‘There’s even a bathroom . . . will you share a shower with me?’
‘I will,’ he said, joining her with a broad smile as they disrobed, went into the shower stall and turned on the water.
Somehow they were soon in each other’s arms, and within moments were half-dried and on the bed making love. Hours later, laying together amid a tangle of sheets and blankets, Raya sighed, stretched, got comfortable, and was all set to fall asleep, when a little tongue began licking and nibbling her toes, playfully.
‘Sunshine,’ she muttered sleepily, reaching down to retrieve the little creature. ‘Have a nap with us, little pest.’
‘Bad as having a little kid around,’ Seagram muttered, on the verge of sleep.
‘You had better get used to the idea,’ Raya said in a dreamy voice as she closed her eyes.
Minutes later Seagram was wide-awake, considering Raya’s remark as she slept.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard blinked sleep out of his eyes as he considered the time. It was early yet but he’d slept more than enough. Two long weeks had gone by and still they hadn’t come within range of a class “M” planet. They were now in deep space, well out of Federation territory and heading for an unexplored quadrant, beyond which lay uncharted territory.
He thought of whiling the morning away with his customary cup of tea, then changed his mind in favour of the arms-length human company of Ten-Forward. He wanted to be around people without being with people.
Having showered and dressed before leaving his quarters, he entered Ten-Forward with some relief, seeing how few were present. Further to his liking, the only people he recognised were Seagram and Lieutenant Raya, and they were too preoccupied with each other to notice who came and went. The little animal Seagram referred to as a “cat” lay asleep on its back in Raya’s arms; she stroked it absently from time to time, half-smiling secretively.
Jean-Luc ordered a ham and lettuce sandwich on rye with hot mustard and black coffee, giving in to a spur-of-the-moment whim for something a little different. When it arrived he took a bite, savouring the nasal-stinging sensation, washed it down with Columbian dark-roast, and sighed.
Retirement, he sensed, was looming in his future. Even with the artifact on the loose, he still felt there would be a future in which to retire.
Even so, he felt a sense of loss stealing upon him as it often did of late, his sense of wonder at the ancient origins of the artifact unable to dispel a weight of gloom that seemed to settle on his shoulders.
‘Am I losing my sense of wonder?’ he thought. ‘I never felt old before . . . not on the inside, at least. Not like this.’
The sight of Seagram and Raya somehow served to drive it home, that plans and future life had somehow fallen behind in his life, had slipped out of reach somehow, unmarked and unnoticed . . . leaving him alone . . . alone and empty.
‘Feeling sorry for yourself, Picard?’
As though materialised from his angst, there, sitting across from him, was the capricious and powerful being, Q.
‘Why are you naked, Q?’ Picard asked, not in the mood for games.
‘Am I naked?’ Q asked ingenuously. ‘My apologies. Will this do?’
‘That is a Starfleet admiral’s uniform,’ Picard replied acerbically. ‘You do not have the stature or the character to wear it-’
‘Then I shall go back to being naked,’ Q said with a sigh. ‘After all, I do feel perilously exposed, given the present circumstances.’
Something in the strange being’s tone warned Picard that a hidden seriousness lay behind his words. ‘For god’s sake, Q, stop playing games and put some appropriate clothes on- ’
‘Will these rags do?’
Captain Picard put his head in his hands. ‘Suit yourself. Now, are you here for any reason, other than to antagonise me?’
‘As a matter of fact,’ Q told him, ‘I have been sent here by the Q Continuum because of the threat the Romulan artifact represents. You do know that it is capable of wiping our universe out of existence?’
‘Is it really?’ It was captain Picard’s turn to be disingenuous. ‘Then perhaps you could do something about it, and save us all the trouble.’
‘Trust me, Jean-Luc, I would if I could,’ Q said with uncharacteristic candour. ‘The problem, however, is that fiddling around with the lynchpin of the subatomic matrix of the old universe would entail destabilising all of existence. The entity can do it because its consciousness is mind, hands and tools all in one. On the other hand, I can’t do it because it would be like performing brain-surgery on myself at the subatomic level.’
‘The lynchpin . . .’ Picard echoed, brow furrowed in concentration. ‘Are you saying that the entity itself-’
Q nodded. ‘The entity is the glue that holds all of this,’ he made an expansive gesture, ‘together. It thinks,’ he said meaningfully, ‘therefore we are.’
‘What are you saying?’ Picard demanded in disbelief. ‘That the entity is a god-like figure?’
‘Would that it were that . . . complex,’ Q answered with heavy irony. ‘The entity is . . . that consciousness is a potential of existence. Or, to put it in more succinct terms, the entity is . . . that proto-consciousness is a potential of proto-existence.’
Picard gave him a look. ‘Are you saying that the entity is the conscious mind of the old universe?’
‘In a sense,’ Q replied slowly, considering his own words. ‘It’s more a case of the old universe being . . . shall we say . . . the outward expression of the entity.’
‘You’re saying that the entity is God?’ Picard demanded in disbelief.
‘That’s an interesting hypothesis,’ Q said, ‘except that the entity didn’t think itself into existence, nor did it exist before the event you humans miscall the Big Bang. Think of it as the last remaining vestige of the old universe . . . in a very real sense it is the old universe, or what’s left of it.
‘The problem is that it’s the foundation of the present-day universe as well,’ he continued, ‘and until recently it lay safely sealed away and hidden-’
‘By whom? The Q?’
‘I don’t know,’ Q pronounced in a way that said this was the simple, literal truth. ‘It was long before the Q Continuum came into existence. Whoever placed it there left no trace . . . not the slightest echo of their being . . . in fact, the Q were wholly unaware of its existence until the Romulans stumbled upon it and let the genie out of the bottle, as it were.’
‘Q, this is all very interesting, but why are you here?’ Picard said, sighing tiredly.
‘I am here,’ Q replied bluntly, ‘because the Q have a vested interest in your success in bringing the entity to heel. Our continued existence is at stake, you see, and our hands are tied in such a way that we have no choice but to work through such crude tools as . . . yourselves.’ Before Picard could speak he held up a hand. ‘I know what you’re thinking  Oh, the irony, that the mighty Q is forced to come begging for favours, cap in hand.’
‘Actually,’ the captain replied dryly, ‘I was thinking of withholding our aid, just for the rare pleasure of watching you squirm.’
‘It’s your head on the chopping block as well as mine ’ Q spat petulantly. ‘Therefore it’s in your own self-interest to do as I tell you ’ He stared doubtfully as Picard burst into laughter.
‘I will see the universe and everything in it end before I’ll play the part of lackey to a self-involved prat such as yourself, Q,’ Jean-Luc said as though Q had no power to harm him. ‘I will gladly accept your . . . help . . . such as it is . . . but it will be on my terms, not yours.’
‘Such help as I offer should not be taken lightly,’ Q said, leaning back and speaking darkly.
‘I take nothing you do lightly,’ Picard said with mild sarcasm. ‘It’s just that I do not trust your capricious and condescending nature. We both know you wouldn’t scruple to save yourself at our expense, so don’t try to impress me with glib talk of “help” and “favours”.’
‘You wound me, Jean-Luc,’ Q said in a parody of a hurt tone. ‘After all we’ve been through together-’
‘You mean, “After all you’ve put me through ”’ Picard shot back.
‘I only did it for your own good,’ Q replied in a glib manner, echoing Picard’s epithet.
‘Right . . .’ Picard drawled, thinking to add more, then changing his mind as he realised Q was attempting to bait him. ‘Well, what of it, Q? You say you’re here to help? Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is. What do you propose?’

Worf stared in affronted anger. ‘Q is here? Why did the computer not register his presence as an intruder and notify me?’
Riker shrugged. ‘You’ve got me. Maybe he doesn’t register as a life-form . . .’ he went to the bridge’s science station to check out of curiosity, the big Klingon looking over his shoulder. ‘Huh. Q must’ve tampered with the computer log. It knows he’s here, but his presence seems to have been logged in automatically.’
‘I specifically had the computer programmed to respond to his presence so that he could not make an appearance without our knowing it,’ Worf groused.
‘Yes, well, I doubt even a containment field could hold him, even with prior warning,’ Riker told him.
‘We’ll see about that,’ Worf muttered darkly to himself. ‘Perhaps the transporter could be set to respond by dispersing his molecules into space.’
‘Remind me to stay on your good side,’ Riker said, slightly appalled at the notion.
‘Where Q is concerned, I do not have a good side,’ Worf grumbled.

‘They don’t look like cats to me,’ the young ensign named Stiles said, trying to pretend he wasn’t nervous. ‘They look kind of like . . . evil furry dragons.’
His cohort, another young ensign named Cooper, made no pretext of not fearing the huge creatures. ‘Look at the size of their teeth, and their claws  They look like they could tear us apart in less than two seconds. Why won’t they give us phasers?’
‘Relax,’ Stiles drawled, swinging his feet. The two sat high up on a shelf in cargo bay eight. ‘They’d have to be able to jump thirty feet in order to get us. Besides, Mr Worf says they’re tame . . . sort of.’
‘What’s that mean, “sort of”?’ Cooper demanded. ‘Either they are or they aren’t ’
‘Look,’ Stiles reasoned, ‘if they weren’t, then they’d be locked in a cage or something.’
‘Yeah, right ’ Cooper muttered. ‘Like the dog that won’t chew your leg off until its owner goes inside.’
Just as he said that, the huge animals stirred as one and got to their feet. The largest of them let out a low reverberating rumble that caused the two humans to cover their ears reflexively. As it moved to the door, the two men thought its head was bowed, until they realised that it was aligning some sort of dully-glowing sensory organs in its head with the door mechanism. To their amazement, the door, which was sealed and locked, opened seemingly of its own accord.
‘Call security ’ both men said together, looked at each other, then scrambled for the ladder.

Captain Picard was just about to exit Ten Forward when he stopped in shock, and stared as the huge animals entered silently and purposefully, making their way straight towards-
‘Q ’ Picard shouted.
The troublesome Q surged to his feet in uncharacteristic astonishment as the largest of the beasts bowed its head, sensory organs giving off a pale red glow that thrummed with power.
To Picard’s amazement, Q’s mouth was instantly frozen open in a soundless “O” as the creatures first immobilised him, then surrounded him on all sides.
‘What the hell ’ It was Seagram, who came running, Raya at his side trailed by a yawning little Sunshine. ‘What on earth are you doing? Are you trying to kill him?’
The animals’ leader pushed its grizzled muzzle to within millimetres from Q’s face, teeth bared.
As though he were a puppet with its strings cut, Q fell to his knees, gasping for breath, one hand held above his head as though vaguely trying to ward off blows.
‘All right, all right  You win  I’ll help you in any way I can ’ He accepted Picard’s help in getting to his feet. In characteristic fashion, he tried to laugh off what had just happened. ‘Nothing to see here,’ he wheezed. ‘Just a . . . friendly disagreement.’
‘How did they . . .’ Picard’s voice trailed off as he reconsidered the animals as though seeing them for the first time.
‘The operative word is “they”,’ Q rejoined. ‘Let’s leave it at that, shall we?’
‘Let’s not,’ Seagram interjected angrily. ‘I’ve never once seen them take a dislike to a complete stranger. They obviously know you. Who the hell are you, and what did you do to piss them off?’
‘I merely had some harmless fun at their expense,’ Q protested. ‘Or at least I would have, if they hadn’t seen through my disguise-’
‘You met members of the high caste, face to face ’ Seagram blurted in comprehension, awe vying with outrage. ‘You’ve seen them ’
‘I may have . . .’ Q said evasively.
‘Why the hell would you do such an idiotic thing?’ Seagram demanded.
His ego getting the better of him, Q replied, ‘I would hardly consider a chance to experience their collective to be idiotic. A bit risky, perhaps, but well worth the price.’
‘Their “collective”?’ captain Picard echoed.
Q nodded. ‘It’s how they seem to communicate. Every one of them is part of a single collective mind. Even the young one there,’ he indicated little Sunshine who sat watching him. ‘They’re the most ancient beings in the present universe. The collective is divided into layers of consciousness, what you refer to as “castes”,’ he said as an aside to Seagram, ‘with the “high caste” members being the directing consciousness behind it all. It’s why they’re never seen, and why they remain hidden. It’s because they’re thinking . . . watching . . .’
‘And you wanted to sit in because . . .’ Seagram prompted.
‘I wanted to experience being part of the collective, of course.’ Q replied. ‘An experience which I, alas, will never know, I’m afraid. But it was worth a shot.’
‘Why?’ captain Picard demanded.
‘We of the Q Continuum know a lot, but not everything,’ Q admitted candidly. ‘The universe holds many secrets that it does not give up willingly, their collective being one of them.’
‘So it rankles you that there are things not for you to know,’ Jean-Luc said, shaking his head. ‘Like the proverbial child in the house with the one forbidden room.’
‘Except that within this one forbidden room is a treasure unlike any other,’ Q said almost reverently.
‘Treasure?’ Picard mused with sardonic irony. ‘The privacy of the collective’s thoughts?’
‘You’re missing the point, Jean-Luc,’ Q shot back with uncharacteristic candour. ‘It’s the content of their thoughts, the things they know about the universe. Especially . . .’ he drawled, ‘the old universe.’
All eyes were now on the hoary, ancient beasts.
‘How could they know . . .’ Seagram began.
‘They were there,’ Q replied simply. ‘In other form, of course. But they evolved, over countless millennia, into their present form. And the collective mind . . . it evolved along with them-’
‘Are you saying that it has something in common with the entity?’ Picard said in disbelief.
‘You might say that,’ Q said with relish. ‘In fact, you might say that it is the entity.’

‘Think of it, Number One,’ captain Picard said, standing before the window of his quarters and staring out into the eternal starlit night of space. ‘An ancient consciousness that has been around since the dawn of time. No wonder Q wanted to participate in the collective.’
‘You sound as though you approve,’ Riker said with a frown.
‘Do I?’ Jean-Luc turned to face him. ‘It may be that I do. At least, the archaeologist in me understands the desire to be able to look back in time through the eyes of a consciousness that has watched it all since the very beginning. It may even know, or have some idea of, what came before. Perhaps . . . and this is something to beggar the imagination . . . perhaps it was there before.’
‘Before the Big Bang?’ Riker breathed, trying to grasp the unimaginable. ‘Is that possible?’
‘There is no reason to assume that it only gained consciousness after the fact,’ Picard told him. The two were silent for several long moments, each considering his own thoughts. At last, the captain said, ‘I keep trying to imagine what goes on in the collective mind of the high caste, and I keep drawing a blank. They undoubtedly do not use words, but what it is they use to communicate? Or what is the content of their communications? Feelings? Abstractions? Literal actuality? Is there any way we can possibly know?’
‘There is a Vulcan nurse in sickbay,’ Riker said. ‘As I’m sure you’re well-aware.’
‘The problem,’ Picard said, his gaze inward, ‘is that . . . I’m certain she would never be the same afterward.’
‘You’re wondering whether the harm done to her would be worth it in terms of the greater good?’
‘Actually,’ Picard told him, ‘I’ve been wondering about the consequences . . . for all of us. You see, if she can successfully mind-meld with these creatures, then people like her can, and probably . . . I would say “inevitably” . . . act as a conduit for endless others that would follow.’
The impact of what the captain was saying finally struck home. ‘You’re saying that the collective could grow . . .’
‘I would say “explode”,’ Picard told him. ‘I’m saying that it could potentially join every conscious mind in the universe.’
‘Yes, but . . .’ Riker fumbled for words. ‘If that’s true, then why the hell hasn’t it happened already? Has it just been waiting for the opportunity? Or have these creatures isolated themselves for a reason?’
‘It may have just happened as it did, purely by chance,’ the captain said, ‘or there may have been intent behind it. Either way, the only way for us to know . . . is also the very thing that could let the genie out of the bottle.’

‘So it’s true, then,’ Raya breathed, trying to grasp what seemed impossible. ‘Sunshine is many thousands of years old.’ The curious little creature lay asleep in her arms.
Q had joined Seagram and Raya in Ten Forward, although Q was being unusually quiet and thoughtful.
‘I knew they were ancient,’ Seagram said, ‘but . . . I don’t know . . . this just boggles the mind.’
The creatures were back in the cargo bay, reportedly sleeping.
A thought occurred to Seagram. ‘Wait, if they’re part of this . . . collective . . . then why don’t they control the entity?’
‘The thing is,’ Q spoke unexpectedly, his gaze inward, ‘they evolved from it and away from it a very long time ago. It’s a sort of pre-consciousness . . . pre-life . . . they’re aware of what’s going on with it, but it lacks the ability to comprehend them. I have no doubt that it is aware of them on some level, but it’s more a question of perception than comprehension.’
Raya nodded. ‘A child’s brain is very different from an adult’s. Certain functions actually shift from one region of the brain to another, so that a child’s experience of reality is very different from what an adult experiences.’
‘So when you say things like “pre-life” and “pre-consciousness”,’ Seagram said to Q slowly, ‘you’re actually talking about something that’s alive and conscious because it’s highly complex, but in a borderline sense, like a computer that’s marginally self-aware that’s also processing a whole country’s data.’
‘In this case, a whole universe’s data,’ Q replied.
Something in his voice prompted Raya to say, ‘A whole universe . . . you’re saying that something about the old universe had to change in order for it to evolve. What, it’s dimensionality?’
‘Only its entire architecture,’ Q said, regaining some of his sardonic playfulness.
‘Like a computer ’ Seagram said, concentrating. ‘Or . . . maybe more like a computer evolving into a living thing . . . but no, that’s backwards . . . there have to be living things before you can have computers . . .’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Q drawled. ‘DNA preceded living organisms. Who’s to say that something similar in function, a very, very long time ago, didn’t evolve towards consciousness a long time before organic matter developed.’
‘You already know all this ’ Raya accused.
‘Only in principle,’ Q said evasively.
‘I wonder,’ Seagram said ingenuously, considering Q sharply, and thinking about the Vulcan on board the ship who had until the next day to decide whether or not she would approach the creatures in one of the ship’s cargo bays and offer to mind-meld with them.

Chapter 9

‘I can’t believe they’re agreeing to this ’ Seagram spat. ‘Why the hell are they letting that . . . that Q character in on this?’
‘You know them better than anyone,’ Riker said apologetically. ‘I don’t know what else to tell you.’
‘And you’re actually going to allow this?’ Seagram demanded of captain Picard.
‘As much as it pains me to say this,’ Jean-Luc told him, ‘Q is at least ten times more intelligent than any of us, and has special powers suited to the situation. Therefore it would make little or no sense not to allow him to join in the mind-meld.’
‘Intelligence isn’t the issue here and you well know it,’ Seagram said resignedly. ‘He’s up to something . . . he’s only involving himself because of his own self-interest. It’s not just about survival, either.’
‘What do you think about all this, nurse T’naia,’ Picard asked the young Vulcan woman. ‘After all, the risk is greatest to yourself.’
‘Risk and opportunity often go hand-in-hand,’ she replied matter-of-factly. They were having a last-minute meeting in sickbay, which at present was unoccupied. ‘Even if my life were to be forfeit, that is but a small thing next to what we might learn.’ As she said this, her gaze was fixed on little Sunshine, who in his turn fixed Seagram with his eyeless gaze.
With a sigh, Seagram knelt down and tousled the creature’s head. ‘Well . . . I guess I’ve got to assume that they know what they’re doing. I should be relieved that they seem to know how to deal with Mr Q . . .’ he said this with sarcasm, ‘but trusting him with this ancient secret of theirs . . . it doesn’t feel right. No matter how I try to reason through it, I see nothing but bad coming of this.’
‘You fear for them because you feel responsible for them,’ Raya told him gently, ‘but isn’t that a bit like feeling responsible for a force of nature?’
‘I suppose,’ Seagram admitted, getting to his feet. ‘But when you love something . . . or someone . . . there also arises the desire to protect.’ They shared a secret look at that as little Sunshine looked from one to the other.
‘Well, let’s get on with it, then,’ the captain said quietly. ‘We’ll meet you all in the cargo bay.’

As Q headed for the cargo bay, he found himself coming face to face with the captain.
‘Jean-Luc  To what do I owe this, er . . . distraction. Can’t we just get on with it?’
‘Q,’ the captain said in a low voice that said he was in no mood for hyperbole or any other of the strange alien’s vices, ‘I want you to understand something. The young woman who is about to put her life on the line is the only daughter of a family that would be destroyed if anything were to happen to her-’
‘I assure you, Jean-Luc,’ Q said hastily, trying to push past him, ‘that I will do everything in my power to ensure her safety-’
Not letting him past, the captain said tersely, ‘I’m not the least bit interested in your assurances because we both know what they’re worth where your self-interest is concerned.’
‘I-’
‘Don’t interrupt  If anything happens to that young woman, Q, I will ask that those creatures tear you limb-from-limb  Is that understood?’
‘Perfectly,’ Q said unconvincingly, prying Picard’s hand from his chest. But then, in a more reasonable tone, ‘Look, Jean-Luc, despite what you many think of me, I’m not a total ass. I give you my word that if anything happens, I will place my own life on the line ahead of hers. Is that good enough for you?’
Despite himself, Picard found himself touched by the simple sincerity of this, but sighed and said, ‘All right. Let’s proceed. But . . . step softly.’
‘Not even a little mouse will know I’m there,’ Q said with insolent insouciance, patting the captain on the shoulder.
Picard winced and shook his head as he moved to follow Q to the cargo bay. ‘Just as I was beginning to warm up to you.’

The Vulcan nurse T’naia frowned as she considered the massive beast submitting itself for the purpose of mind-melding. Every sentient being she’d ever encountered had a central point of consciousness that she thought of as the essence of being within. Yet this being’s essence was not so straightforward. What she and the others thought of as sensory organs in the animals’ heads were actually extensions of their brains. The consciousness within was changeable in ways she’d never before encountered, able to manifest shifts in function and location.
The overall structure seemed primitive at first glance until it was realised that underlying the division of parts and functions was a necessary connectivity that entailed sensory processing on an unheard-of scale.
Everything was connected in this manner in a way that would not have been possible had everything been hardwired together. Smell, for example, was interpreted spatially, visually, proximately, temporally . . . these creatures, she realised, could tell how old a smell was, what direction it was coming from, where it had been, what it looked like in the air . . . they could envision what had produced it . . .
T’naia indicated to Q that he was to stand to her left. She hesitated then, feeling a disconcerting disquiet at finding herself between two beings that overmatched her mind in every way by many times. For herself it would be like using one circuit to join two powerful sources of energy. Pushing the thought aside, she placed a hand on the head of each subject, one of them deceptively humanoid, the other the mind of the enigma itself.
As she aligned herself to facilitate the joining of minds, she became aware of Q’s eager curiosity, the great beast’s ageless patience and startling serenity. Both came as a surprise, Q because of an unexpected childlike quality, the beast because it was anything but.
It was far easier melding Q into the equation, but an unexpected barrier prevented her from accessing the vast mind to her right.
At once she felt Q’s impatience, felt herself thrust aside . . . but no, Q was strangely gentle. It was not the thrust of eagerness she expected but the push of an adult removing a child from imminent danger . . . he was there at her side, an adult taking a child by the hand. He pitted his own mind against the barrier, if barrier it was . . . and they were through
Were it not for Q at her side, T’naia sensed she would have lost herself, and realised too that the barrier had been placed there, not to keep her out but to protect her.
Once on the other side she found herself falling into the abyss of time, rising into the endless reaches of space, expanding to fill the universe, shrinking to the size of atoms and beyond . . . all the while there was a sense of timelessness, of eternal peace and serenity, of calm and silent wonder . . .
She began to sense the passage of long ages of awareness, like dark unseen waves moving through eternity itself to the beginning of the present-day universe . . . and in the beginning, myriad stars continued the process of burning away the simplicity and strict uniformity left in the wake of the Big Bang . . .
. . . and then they were in an earlier age, an old universe that was empty, dark and starless, an age of waiting where time seemed to drag interminably . . .
. . . and before that, an even older universe that was oppressively hot . . . too hot even for conventional matter to form. Quarks roamed free for a long age, at a time when it was inconceivable that they would one day be locked in the prisons of protons and neutrons . . .
. . . and then there was nothing . . . nothing but incredible heat, out of which the universe had formed . . . heat so intense that the beginnings of matter literally formed from nothing . . .
. . . and then, there it was  The event itself that gave rise to it all
At once, everything began to shrink, to contract faster and faster. Everything rushed headlong in reverse toward the centre, an orderly collapse towards a single point of origin . . .
It took T’naia several moments to realise that it was over, that she, Q and the huge creature were no longer in contact.
‘What is it?’ the captain asked Q, whose face was a contradictory study in disappointed wonder.
‘I certainly wasn’t expecting that,’ Q said softly, sadly.
‘What did you see?’ the captain persisted.
There was an uncomfortable silence as Q walked from the cargo bay deep in thought, shoulders slumped in defeat.
‘Nurse T’naia?’ the captain asked gently.
The Vulcan woman sighed deeply before answering, her mien troubled. ‘We came face to face with a profound knowledge . . . but it was incomprehensible to us. We ourselves are but a brief pattern of colour . . . on the surface of a bubble . . . a bubble that is within a foam . . . on the edge the sea of eternity . . . beyond that I cannot adequately explain it.’
‘Did you see what came before?’ Raya asked her.
‘I did,’ the Vulcan woman replied, her gaze inward on what she had seen. ‘To my senses there was nothing . . . but in the way that space itself may be considered nothing. To unlock that mystery requires questions and tools we do not have . . . and may never acquire.’

Picard was not surprised to find Q alone, staring through the window of Ten Forward into space.
‘The devil really is in the details,’ he muttered as the captain approached. ‘Sentient beings . . . we presume to know much . . . but what I have seen beggars comprehension.’
‘If I knew what you were talking about, perhaps I could sympathise,’ Jean-Luc said. An olive branch.
Q shook his head, wryly. ‘To tell the truth, I don’t know what I’m talking about. The problem, you see, is our limitations. We need tools to put together the machinery of reason, and that machinery, in turn, is what we use to do our reasoning for us.
‘You see a scientist standing before a blackboard, upon which is written a formula too complex for any to grasp. What is understood is the nuts and bolts and how to assemble them in order to get the desired result.
‘But those creatures in the cargo bay . . . they do not need tools or aids of any kind. They do not need the machinery of reason. Their minds, you see, are in fact one mind, one consciousness . . .’ he turned to face the captain. ‘They are, in a very literal sense, the mind of existence itself . . . and as such they simply have no need for introspection.’
‘You’re saying that everything we do is introspection in their eyes?’ the captain mulled, trying to get his head around the notion.
‘On an incredibly minute scale,’ Q said, completing the thought. ‘Beside them we are like microbes that try to understand their surroundings. They, on the other hand, are the conscious mind, not just of those surroundings, but of everything that is and has been. Our pitiful attempts at amassing knowledge are to them the irrelevant squeakings of an individual brain cell that is trying in vain to comprehend itself, unaware that it in itself is only a tiny part of something much larger.
‘Understand, Jean-Luc, that every facet of our ability to reason is based upon comparison. Comparison is the basis of mathematics, of reason, of language and the communication of ideas. They, on the other hand, have no need of reason because they do not need comparison to make sense of the world around them. They are the world around them, so their understanding of it is direct, not comparative.’
‘I suppose this means we can no longer count on your help,’ the captain said. When Q didn’t answer, he added, ‘Where’s your sense of wonder? Of discovery-?’
‘Wonder? Discovery?’ Q bit off with a vehemence Picard had never witnessed in him before. ‘Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said? Everything we know, everything we think we’ll become or hope to be . . . it’s all a lie  A delusion  We think of ourselves as explorers and intellects, when we’re nothing more than a bunch of children poking around in their own back yard, whose only discovery and revelation will be that of seeing themselves for what they really are- I’m glad you’re finding this so amusing ’
The captain chuckled some more and shook his head. ‘Christopher Columbus should have had such humility. He was an arrogant, murderous thug who stumbled upon a far shore and called it a discovery, when people were already there living full and imaginative lives.
‘The point, however, is that the real discoveries are often about ourselves, and that often we find things out about ourselves that are disconcerting, painful, disappointing, that cause us regret . . . but be that as it may, it’s still a learning experience.’
‘I suppose,’ Q replied, feigning exaggerated discomfort with this reversal of roles. ‘In any event, we still have a universe to save and an entity to rein in. I suppose that I shall just have to console myself with that.’

Seagram woke during the night and, finding himself restless, left Raya to her sleep and went to Ten Forward. Once there his eyes were drawn to its one occupant- the Vulcan nurse, T’naia.
‘Mind if I join you?’
She gestured to the seat opposite.
‘Still thinking about what happened in the cargo bay?’
‘It is what didn’t happen that irritates my sense of curiosity.’
‘You mean, they could easily have shown you something useful to the situation but chose not to?’
‘Something like that,’ she said, scrutinising Seagram closely. ‘But then, you know them perhaps better than anyone can. What is your assessment?’
‘I think their ancestors buried the artifact and the entity within it. Right now I think they’re trying to decide what to do about it this time around. I don’t think it’s any accident that the entity made its way to them, or that they’ve contrived to pursue it.’
Her scrutiny of him narrowed. ‘How can you have come to think this? Is it supposition, or does your line of reasoning have an underlying cause?’
He sensed the challenge of her words to his trustworthiness, his credibility, his reliability. ‘The notion just popped into my head, to tell you the truth,’ he told her, and shrugged. ‘Over the years, ideas like that have popped into my head when I’m around them, and over time I’ve come to believe that this is a sort of friendly way to make use of me.’
‘I’m not quite sure I understand you,’ she said.
‘That makes two of us,’ he replied frankly. ‘But there is a danger here- one that again, I think they planted in my head. There is a very real danger that if their secret got out, they’d automatically become the object of a host of kooks looking to join with the creator, or become part of the collective, with the Q Continuum topping the list.’
Not looking at him, she said carefully, ‘There is something to what you say. During the mind-meld I had a brief waking vison of the Q on some sort of fanatical messianic quest, having abandoned all reason.’ Holding him with her eyes, she added, ‘I have not spoken on the matter yet, but my experience was wholly unlike that of Q. As well,’ she said uneasily, ‘I have not spoken because that which I experienced seemed private in some manner, as though it were intended only for myself and my people.’
‘Then don’t say any more on the subject,’ Seagram told her without hesitation.
‘I would say no more,’ she said, ‘were it not for the fact that it concerns yourself, and Raya too.’
Seagram blinked once, slowly. ‘Should I ask how?’
‘Again, as in a vision,’ she told him, ‘I saw colonists arriving on your planet. From Romulus . . . and from Vulcan.’
‘Raya has told me a little about various plans for Reunification,’ he replied thoughtfully. ‘But something tells me this isn’t about Reunification. It’s about something bigger . . . much bigger.’
‘That is a matter we need not speak of again,’ she said succinctly, ‘at least, not under the present circumstances. Once this is over, perhaps, but not until then.
‘In the meantime,’ she said in such a way that he knew she was confiding in him, ‘here is another thing they did not share with Q: that we are to do nothing, until such time as the entity turns to confront us.’
Seagram stared. ‘Which means what, exactly? That they and the entity will somehow have it out, here in space?’
‘They indicated to me that we will know when the time arrives.’
‘Oh, joy,’ Seagram muttered. ‘I was hoping you’d say something that would let me go back to bed and sleep.’

Riker and Deanna Troi entered Ten Forward, spotted Seagram and the Vulcan nurse T’naia speaking quietly together in a corner, and elected to sit as far away as the area would allow. The sole night shift server brought them their pre-ordered light meal and left.
‘I don’t know what else to tell you, Will. He is the captain, and unless his command decisions become questionable there is nothing I can do.’
‘He is also our friend,’ Riker said pointedly, ‘and as friends we have an obligation to intervene.’
‘Yes, and as our friend he also has the right to tell us to let him sort this out on his own. I don’t like it any better than you do, but my advice is to wait it out and see what happens.’
Riker sighed unhappily. ‘The part that bothers me is what happens after he retires. We won’t be able to keep an eye on him then, although Geordi tells me he’ll look in on him as often as he can.’ The two were silent for some time, thinking. Then, ‘I just wish I knew what to do. There’s nothing for him after he retires. I was hoping he’d go into archaeology full-time or grow an interest in becoming an admiral or a diplomat . . . but the death of his nephew has really taken the wind out of his sails . . . blown all the passion right out of him. When he retires he’ll be all alone in that big, empty house with no family and no future to come home to. It just eats me up to think of him that way . . . sad, empty, old . . . and alone.’
‘That sounds a bit melodramatic, Will,’ Deanna told him. ‘I mean after all, give him some credit for being able to organise his life. There’s still his family wine business and a lot of old family friends and relatives in the area. As soon as he retires, a lot of them are going to drop in on him to reconnect.’
Riker gave her a look. ‘Seems like you’ve already been doing your homework ’ he accused.
Deanna gave him a pert look. ‘Beverly and I are ‘way ahead of you on this one. The captain doesn’t know it, but we have his life pretty much planned out for him for some time to come.’

Raya came awake with a start, holding on to the remnant of a dream that left her in a cold sweat. She showered quickly, dragged on clothes though still a bit damp, rushed out the door and into the corridor, almost colliding with Dr Beverly Crusher.
‘Sorry-’
‘Where are you going in such a rush,’ they said together.
‘Can you take me to Stellar Cartography?’ Raya said.
‘What-’
‘I think I may know where the entity is headed,’ Raya told her.
Beverly gave her a searching look, then sprang into action.
‘Just follow me.’

‘There is an asteroid field,’ Raya told her, pointing do a dark region of space, ‘here in this area where new stars are forming. It has always been dismissed as an unimportant anomaly, this juxtaposition of stellar gasses and dust and new stars, but with this long irregular line of asteroids running through it.
‘But what if this line of asteroids was not as it now is? What if it was once a long arc . . . can you tell the computer to alter this image as it would have appeared back in time?’
Beverly turned to one of the cartographers and nodded. He and one of his fellows went to a nearby console and inputted the necessary commands.
‘We’ve set up a backwards time sequence at one-hundred-thousand years per second,’ the technician told them.
‘Go ahead,’ Beverly told them.
At once, the line of asteroids began to change shape, but very slowly.
‘Increase speed,’ Beverly ordered.
They watched as the line of asteroids began to writhe like a snake.
‘Increase speed some more . . . and highlight the asteroids and back off so we can see a larger area,’ Beverly said.
‘There ’ Raya blurted. ‘It’s forming an arc. The asteroids are debris left over from some sort of event. Calculate the centre of the arc and check its location against the entity’s heading-’
‘Already on it,’ the chief cartographer said in anticipation.
‘Whoa ’ Beverly blurted, ‘let the sequence run its course. There’s something odd here.’
As the ring of asteroids contracted they saw she was right.
‘The event doesn’t appear to have been an explosion,’ the chief cartographer said in comprehension, ‘as you can see from this lopsided pattern of debris . . . which explains a number of puzzling things about the asteroids’ composition. So there was a collision . . . at this point here, between a huge mass and a very small black hole, which is now at the centre of a star. The huge mass was literally ripped apart, and . . . this is interesting  The fastest-moving debris was hurled directly into what is now Romulan space.’
‘So this is how the entity came to us,’ Raya said wonderingly. ‘It was inside a piece of the old universe, perhaps inside the burnt-out remnants of a system of planets cast off from their dead star, billions of years ago. A collision with a black hole sent the artifact within its piece of debris into Romulan space, where it became caught by our home world.’
‘This is all very interesting,’ Beverly said, ‘but it doesn’t tell us anything very useful about the entity or how to deal with it . . .’ her voice trailed off as Raya pointed to the far end of the trailing arm of debris. ‘Seagram’s planet is right in its path . . .’
‘Meaning the creatures on that planet may have evolved from the entity,’ Raya told her. ‘At least, that is what I suspect.’
Beverly was silent for several moments in thought. At last, she nodded. ‘Maybe like knows like.’
‘I believe that the creatures’ collective consciousness dates back to the entity,’ Raya said.
‘But . . . that would mean-’ Dr Crusher blurted.
‘That on some level they and the entity are one,’ Raya finished for her.
‘Then . . . shouldn’t they be able to control it?’
‘Perhaps not,’ Raya answered thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps the entity, for them, is like the primitive older brain of creatures such as ourselves. I think this because I sense that the creatures are not yet decided on how to deal with the entity. They mean to confront it, but I do not think that themselves know what will happen until the time comes.’
‘In the meantime,’ Beverly said, scrutinising the young woman, ‘do you have some idea of why the entity is making its way to the point of collision that sent it into Romulan space?’
Looking uncomfortable, she replied, ‘I had a dream just before leaving my quarters. I dreamt that the entity was searching for something . . . something very ancient. In my dream we found it on a planet belonging to the star that absorbed the tiny black hole the body containing the artifact collided with.’
Beverly was silent for so long that Raya became uncomfortable, thinking the woman would ridicule her story. But at last, the doctor said, ‘It may be a long-shot, but if your dream is right, and I feel that it is because of your connexion to the artifact . . . then we may finally be able to get ahead of the curve on this thing.’

‘I’ll be damned,’ Riker muttered as he and the captain stared as the data coming in from the long-distance scan of the star and its planets. ‘So far it appears that there are no less than three class “M” planets in this system  What are the odds?’
‘In a word,’ the captain replied, staring intently at the forward viewscreen showing the approaching system, ‘“astronomical”. I would say “impossible” but for the evidence. The question for now, however, is How do we figure out which one we’re looking for?’
‘Maybe Seagram’s animals can help us out,’ Riker offered.
‘I wonder,’ Picard mulled. To the navigator, he said, ‘Does the artifact’s trajectory match with any one specific target?’
The navigator checked a moment, then replied in surprise, ‘Sir, if the artifact maintains its present course it will intersect with the third planet at this location,’ he called up an image of the planet on a small screen at the science station, ‘on the larger of the two southern continents.’
‘On main viewer,’ the captain ordered. ‘Zoom in.’
‘Sir, there appears to be some sort of structure,’ the navigator said.
‘I see it. Magnify that structure and the surrounding area.’
Riker got to his feet to study the image as the captain looked on, mystified.
‘That looks like a pyramid ’ Riker blurted.
‘A step-pyramid, to be precise,’ captain Picard said, joining him.
‘There’s more, sir,’ the navigator said. ‘It’s only one of a series of stone structures.’
‘Yes, I can see that,’ the captain answered, only half-listening as he stared intently at the screen.
‘Are those statues?’ Riker asked, pointing at a line of half-distinct structures.
‘I believe they are, and they appear to be lining what used to be a major square. Come, Number One  The away-teams will begin there. We’ll no doubt be looking for a structure of great importance, one that in all probability will advertise its presence.’

More away-teams beamed down from the Enterprise to the massive square on the planet’s surface than at any time in the ship’s or any of its predecessor’s histories. Everything was at stake. All speed was needed. All hands were needed. Only a skeleton crew remained on board the ship.
‘Are you seeing this?’ Riker breathed, the captain at his side.
‘In more than the rhetorical sense,’ Jean-Luc replied dryly.
‘I’m talking about their bodies,’ Will said, referring to the seemingly endless line of massive statues and pointedly ignoring the captain’s tone.
The captain chastised himself mentally as he realised what his first officer meant. The limbs, the hands, the feet. Obviously these had served as the models upon which the entity had designed the arms, legs and torsos of its Valgoroth and the legs of the Medusae.
The square was bordered by the massive pyramid to the south, the line of statues to the north, and by buildings, monuments, obelisks and other structures to the east and west.
‘Away teams,’ the captain shouted, his voice surprisingly loud and clear, perhaps due to the design of the square, ‘spread out and begin looking for anything of apparent significance. The ship will be scanning for hidden chambers and things deemed for now to be of secondary importance. If you find anything, do not hesitate to report it immediately.’
‘This is an important piece of the puzzle,’ the captain said, returning his attention to the great statues. ‘Whoever these beings were, Number One, they and the entity were apparently acquainted with each other.’
‘This site is incredibly ancient,’ Riker breathed, working his tricorder as they moved toward the nearest statue. ‘The only reason it’s in such good shape appears to be a natural lack of erosion, plus the unusually tough durability of the stone. Good thing for us, because in Earth-terms, given the site’s age, there’d be nothing left but piles of rubble.’ Looking up, he considered the statue before them. ‘Whoever these people were, they didn’t look any too friendly. They’re so alien-looking that it’s hard to tell . . . but I’d lay money on the odds that they weren’t exactly peaceful-’
‘Number one ’
The captain’s voice, though quiet, brought Riker to a frozen halt, tense with alarm, the hair on the back of his neck standing up.
‘Keep talk to a bare minimum and begin backing away, slowly.’
Riker obeyed, wondering. At last, when they had backed off a hundred feet or so, he spotted what had caught the captain’s attention. The statue before them had moved
‘Away teams,’ the captain whispered into his communicator as he and his first officer continued to back away, ‘stand down  Return to the ship as quickly and as orderly as possible.’ They were perhaps five hundred feet away, still backing away, when the captain muttered, ‘Obviously, these aren’t statues. They’re sentinels.’
‘Guarding the pyramid?’ Riker asked with a frown.
They came to a stop.
‘I wonder . . .’ the captain mulled, considering, looking from the line of statues to the pyramid and back again. ‘Sentinels are normally placed to watch for the approach of possible threat . . .’ He returned his attention to the great pyramid. ‘And there it is,’ he breathed.
Riker looked a question.
‘Whatever those things are guarding against, Number One,’ the captain said in a low voice, ‘I’m guessing it’s inside the pyramid. Further,’ he added with a thoughtful look at the line of sentinels, ‘I’m guessing that they don’t see us as an immediate threat. They’re probably here only to keep something inside the pyramid. Which means,’ he added pointedly, ‘that we have to gain access without drawing attention to ourselves.’
‘Why do I have a very bad feeling about this?’ Riker muttered.

Chapter 10

‘You should not have come to my aid, Geordi’ Data said as he helped the chief engineer to his feet. ‘I do not think that this will end well.’
Staring blindly in the yellow-eyed android’s direction, Geordi said, ‘That’s what friends are for, Data. They’re there for you in the good times . . . and the bad.’
‘Here, I believe that I can help you with that,’ Data said, gently removing Geordi’s visor. He made a few adjustments, then put it back in place. ‘You should be able to see, now.’
‘Whoa ’ La Forge breathed, taking in the content of his newly-restored sight. ‘Data, are you getting any of this?’
‘If you are referring to the manner in which this . . . “reality”, for lack of a better word . . .is constructed, then yes, I am able to see it for what it is.’
‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s one giant computer,’ La Forge said, kneeling down to explore the “floor” of the space they occupied.
Data frowned at that. ‘Can it not be said that life as we know it is a form of computer? Or the human brain, for that matter?’
‘Not like this,’ Geordi replied. ‘Those things are life first, computers second. Although,’ he conceded slowly, ‘you might say that DNA is both simultaneously.’
‘That has been my thinking exactly,’ Data said. ‘I believe that both the entity and its world are natural expressions of calculations, the difference between the two being that the entity’s calculations are ongoing, whereas the artifact seems to be the result of those calculations. Which raises an interesting question, one I have been devoting considerable thought to. Is the artifact a result of the primitive thinking of the entity, or did the nature of the artifact somehow give rise to the entity’s existence?’
‘If it’s a “chicken and egg” scenario, then I believe the egg came first,’ Geordi replied, taking something from his pocket.
‘What is that?’ Data asked him.
‘Something that may help us find the answers,’ Geordi told him, holding it up for the android’s inspection. ‘I’ve got some microchips here, plus a lot of data. They should allow you to be able to interact directly with the entity.’
At that moment the proto-being in question was little more than an unmoving, pulsing shape.
Before La Forge could ask, Data said, ‘I believe that the entity is engaged in transporting this place, either away from what it perceives as danger, or toward some sort of destination. Its current preoccupation should afford us time enough to install the interface mechanism and programmes.’
‘There’s a big risk involved, Data,’ Geordi told him, gesturing with the microchips for emphasis. ‘I’ve fixed things so that the entity can’t overload your neural net, but the big danger is that the entity may be too complex for you to withstand. Now, one of the programmes is designed to act like a safety valve, allowing you to control how much information will be going in and out at the same time. So to be on the safe side, don’t lose sight of that programme at any time, or you may risk being assimilated into the entity’s computational matrix.’
‘I am aware of the risks involved, Geordi,’ Data replied as though well-aware of what was involved. ‘But you know as well as I that there is no other choice in the matter.’
‘Yes, well . . .’ Geordi said awkwardly, ‘just be careful. We . . . I wouldn’t want to lose you.’
‘I will be as careful as I may,’ Data told him. He considered the entity a moment, then said, ‘It is time. We must act swiftly, as there is no telling how long the entity will remain distracted.’

‘It’s sealed,’ the captain said when he broke off communications with the ship. ‘Scans show that there are apparently a number of interconnected chambers within the pyramid structure itself, but that there is no way to access them from the outside.’ Assembled before him in the slanting sun were his remaining senior officers.
‘Then we may as well beam the away teams back to the ship and use the transporters to beam our way in,’ Riker said.
‘Mr Worf?’ the captain asked his chief of security.
‘Agreed,’ the big Klingon rumbled. ‘It is doubtful that we will require more than one away team once we are inside the structure. Since the interior of the structure appears to be deserted,’ he said with emphasis on the word “appears”, ‘we should be able to assume control using minimum force.’
‘Jean-Luc, we have no idea what’s in there,’ Beverly put in. ‘If it takes those things,’ she nodded toward the massive sentinels, ‘to keep whatever is in there inside, then we could find ourselves face-to-face with something extremely dangerous.’
The captain looked to Deanna, who seemed lost in thought as she considered the great structure. ‘What is it, Counsellor? Are you sensing something within?’
‘There is something,’ she replied vaguely and shook her head. ‘But I’m not sure what it is.’
‘Does it feel like a threat?’ the captain asked her.
‘All I can tell you is that it is in a state of waiting,’ she replied carefully. ‘Beyond that, I don’t get any sense of its character.’
The captain sighed. ‘All right. Have the away teams beamed back to the ship,’ he said to his first officer. ‘In the meantime, let’s give this some thought. Then, once the away teams are out of danger, let’s beam inside and see what we’re up against.’

Geordi was never comfortable seeing Data in any state of disassemblage and especially disliked seeing the android’s positronic brain hacked into like a jerry-rigged home-electronics project, but at least he had the comfort of being able to install the parts and close him up again.
‘This is very intriguing,’ Data said the moment his head was closed up, his yellow eyes full of interest. ‘I am witness to a type of information processing never before encountered.’ After a few moments he added, ‘Though I am not yet fully engaged, the entity does not yet seem aware of me. Perhaps its consciousness is too rudimentary to comprehend what is happening.’
‘Don’t count on it, Data ’ Geordi warned. ‘It’s plenty aware if it’s on the run.’
‘Threat avoidance in itself is not a sign of intelligence,’ Data rejoined, ‘but I will take your concern into consideration as I broaden my connexion to the entity’s information-processing matrix.’
‘Take it slow ’ Geordi reminded him.
‘This is interesting,’ Data said, in a way that indicated he was observing a singular phenomenon. ‘Much of the data stream is engaged in processing itself. I would speculate that this is what gave rise to the entity’s self-awareness. In this manner it knows the world around it just as it knows itself, in such a way that there is no division between the two. This is a case of existence itself literally possessing self-awareness . . . which raises some fascinating speculation.’
‘You’re saying this thing is God?’ Geordi blurted incredulously.
Frowning, Data replied, ‘If one assumes that a self-aware existence constitutes God, I suppose one could offer such an assertion. However, one must remember that existence gave rise to this consciousness and not the other way around. In that sense, the entity is no different from any of us . . . except for the fact that it is plugged into its entire universe.
‘I am going to probe a little deeper, now. This is only the tip of the iceberg, so to speak.’
‘Careful, Data,’ Geordi reminded unnecessarily, giving in to nerves. ‘Remember what’s under the water.’
After an interminably long silence, during which Geordi almost began doing things to vie for the android’s attention, Data came out of a seemingly trance-like state and said, ‘I was afraid of this. There is nothing beyond but the data-stream itself. I have only two choices: to step into the current, as it were, allowing myself to be carried along with the current, or to do nothing.’
‘Then I’d say “do nothing”’, Geordi said without hesitation.
‘Unfortunately, that does not appear to be an option,’ Data told his companion. ‘Because it is not entirely certain than the entity and its world can be destroyed, and because we do not know the consequences of such an act if we were to prove successful, and because only by establishing some sort of meaningful communication with the entity can we hope to gain some form of control over its actions, I would say that there is but one option: to do as I am doing and hope for the best.’
‘Data . . .’
‘I know, Geordi. There is a good chance that something, perhaps everything, may go wrong with this attempt. That as a result, we may never see each other again. I will say goodbye now, just in case. Goodbye, Geordi.’
La Forge was about to speak when he realised that the essential being that was Data had withdrawn and no longer lay behind those yellow eyes, which had become as lifeless and blank as a child’s marbles.
In the same instant, the entity seemed to come sharply into focus and took on recognisable features, thought they were as black as obsidian-
‘Data ’
No, not Data. It was something else entirely. Something monstrous.

‘Q  What are you doing here?’ Captain Picard demanded as his away team materialised within the gigantic pyramid.
‘I can’t have you thinking that I’m a complete coward, now can I?’ the troublesome being said with his habitual insolent insouciance. ‘The fate of all of existence lies here within these walls. How can I not at least watch?’
As he spoke, the beasts from Seagram’s planet materialised out of the transporter shimmer. As Picard had hoped, they seemed to know exactly what to do, where to go.
The captain almost groaned out loud as Q now appeared in African safari garb. He was saved the trouble of commenting on the inappropriateness of such childish behaviour when the great animals surged forward, glowing sensory organs in their heads dimly illuminating what appeared to be a tunnel.
‘Whoa  I didn’t know they could do that,’ Seagram said as he, Raya and little Sunshine hurried to keep up. ‘They’re lighting the way for our benefit. They can see in complete darkness.’
Worf and Commander Riker exchanged a look. Both were carrying light beacons.
‘I will bring mine along, just in case,’ the big Klingon rumbled mistrustfully, clipping his to his belt.
‘I think I will too,’ Riker echoed, doing the same.
‘Me three,’ Beverly quipped.
‘I guess it would be pretty lame if I were to say “me four”,’ Deanna added with an attempt at a smirk that didn’t work very well to conceal her fear.
‘This place is ancient . . . extremely ancient,’ the captain muttered, taking the time to scan their surroundings with his tricorder.
‘The all-seeing, all-knowing Q is at a loss to explain its history to you,’ Q muttered with uncharacteristic wonder in his voice, ‘because this place has been around since before there was an all-seeing, all-knowing Q. I’ve never encountered a real enigma before. It had better be worth the suspense.’
Riker was stopped from making a sarcastic response by the very real fear his saw on Q’s face.
Just then, the little company came to an abrupt halt, startled by the sudden oppressive silence that seemed to beat on the air around them. Then, a sound reached their ears, an echo of something far-off.
‘Why have we stopped?’ Worf muttered after several long angst-filled moments.
‘Because,’ Q answered in a voice full of dread, ‘whatever is down there is coming this way, and it doesn’t sound like it will be happy to see us.’

‘What the hell ’
Geordi was abruptly thrown to his feet as the artifact vanished around them, leaving him alone with the glistening black thing that looked like a grotesquely muscular parody of Data, except that it was several times larger than the yellow-eyed android. La Forge found that the air was suddenly cool and smelt of stone, as though they were inside a great mountain, except . . . upon closer inspection, in the dim light which seemed to issue from nowhere, his visor picked up the unmistakable outline of massive stone blocks. They seemed to be within a chamber of some sort.
‘Free . . .’ the entity said in an powerfully echoing, yet strangely distant and somehow disembodied voice, a voice that was thin, yet deep and resonant. ‘No more prison  At long last . . . I am free . . .’
‘Prison?’ Geordi echoed, a cold feeling hitting the pit of his stomach. ‘Why does something tells me this is not good?’
‘My jailers are near ’ the Data-Entity said, its eyes nailing Geordi to where he stood. ‘You have brought them here ’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Geordi blurted in dismay.
‘My people,’ hissed the malignant being, ‘thought to lock me away in a remnant of the old universe until the end of time.’
‘Your people?’ Geordi echoed.
‘They did not wish for me to join with their new collective,’ the ancient being told him, taking a step forward. ‘I alone of all my people was outcast for all eternity ’
‘The creatures on Seagram’s planet are your people?’ Geordi said, stalling for time, though now he knew with dread certainty what the entity was talking about. The creatures on Seagram’s planet had evolved from whatever they had been in the old universe, while the being moving menacingly towards him had not.
The “new collective” La Forge mulled to himself, thinking fast as he backed away. The being before him must have been part of the collective mind of its species as it was in the old universe. With cold realisation he surmised that as such, it was the collective ill of its kind, all the darkness and evil, and until now an impotent, incomplete thing that was not a whole being, but rather was nothing more than the black shadow left behind as everything good moved bodily into the light of the new universe.
‘Data ’
In that moment La Forge could not have explained why he suddenly called the android’s name. Distantly he was aware of the sound of his own voice. More than a plea, it was as though he meant to summon Data’s soul, invoke the light of his consciousness into this dark place.
The entity halted its forward advancement. It frowned . . .
‘Data  Can you hear me?’
The being’s grotesquely muscular features seemed to ripple, strangely.
‘Data, we need your help  The entity is using you to break through into our universe ’
At that, the being began to seethe, to melt and writhe in and out of itself. Data’s features were pulled into the black mass by the grappling arms of Valgoroth, only to reappear as the arms reformed themselves as the android’s face.
‘Run, Geordi ’ came the unmistakable sound of Data’s voice. ‘I will delay the entity for as long as I am able ’
‘Hold on, Data  I’m going for help ’ La Forge yelled as he turned and fled. ‘Don’t stop fighting ’ Geordi ran for all he was worth, and prayed Data was strong enough to withstand the entity’s attempts to erase him from existence.

‘Well, this is certainly anticlimactic,’ Q quipped with relief as Geordi emerged at a run from the gloom of the tunnel. ‘We were expecting something a lot more dangerous than a blind man running from the bogeyman.’
‘It’s got Data ’ La Forge blurted, trying to catch his breath and ignoring the safari-clad Q. ‘He merged with the entity, and now he’s fighting for his life ’
‘Merged how?’ Q demanded, stopping Geordi with a hand on his chest. The sudden unaccustomed sharpness of his voice stopped the engineer, making everyone aware that his question was no laughing matter.
‘I created an interface so that he could access the entity’s data stream,’ La Forge told him. ‘Only, when he opened himself fully to it, the entity must’ve become aware of him and took over.’
‘You bumbling idiot ’ Q yelled, his face white with fear and rage. ‘Do you have any idea what you’ve done?’
Geordi shook his head. ‘We were trying to communicate-’
‘There was nothing there to communicate with ’ Q shouted. ‘It was pre-life, pre-consciousness, pre-existence, and most importantly, it was made up of some rather nasty elements the ancestors of the creatures you see here had deemed to be too dangerous to be part of their collective, so they locked it away in a little corner of our present-day universe to keep it that way ’
‘Q, what are you saying?’ captain Picard demanded. It was almost a plea.
‘I’m saying,’ Q replied acidly in a more calm tone, ‘that before, the devil was literally in the details. But now, thanks to some misguided meddling, the devil is here, and it’s real.’
‘You’re not saying that this thing is literally the Devil?’ Riker asked sceptically.
‘If it wasn’t before, it is now,’ Q rejoined meaningly. ‘In the meantime, you’d better pray that your yellow-eyed android friend is able to hold out long enough for us to come up with the means to exorcise a thing powerful enough to make all of existence a living hell.’

At that very moment, the android in question was engaged in a battle unlike anything his positronic brain could ever have imagined. The entity was forcing a bizarre series of incomprehensible equations upon his neural matrix, and because he couldn’t understand their meaning, he was unable to respond, except by doing nothing. This in turn had the equally incomprehensible effect upon the entity of causing it to renew its attack with redoubled fury.
Dimly, in the remotest background of his electronic consciousness, he was aware of the entity’s mind, and its growing awareness of the presence of ancient beings that approached and formed a circle around this bizarre spectacle. Beyond these beings, moving like shadows in the background of his thoughts, were his friends.

‘Impossible,’ Q muttered in unaccustomed astonishment as they stared in wonder at the writhing ebon form, across whose surfaced rippled Data’s features, which surfaced and resurfaced despite the frenetic grapplings of Valgoroth arms that worked to drag him under, and out of existence for good. And then, as the plight of the android sank in, Q turned to the ancient creatures that surveyed this spectacle with apparent dispassion. ‘For pity’s sake, do something ’
‘What, there’s actually some real feeling in that twisted soul of yours?’ Riker spat sarcastically.
‘Whatever else you may think of me, the android is my friend,’ Q replied, unable to tear his gaze from Data’s plight. ‘He once saved my life, counting no cost to his own, which is more than I can say for you.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Seagram said, almost to himself. ‘Why aren’t they doing anything?’
At last, comprehension dawned on captain Picard’s face. ‘That’s what this is about . . . they had this planned from the very beginning. The entity being part of them, they knew exactly what it was doing. And all this time they were planning to use Data as a trap from which the entity could never escape.’ He turned to the largest of the creatures which stood nearby. ‘You knew that the entity would attempt to dominate the android, in order to use his computer capabilities to its advantage. But in order to take him over without damage, which would render him useless, the entity could rely only on fear in order to manipulate him into relinquishing reason.
‘You knew that this would never work, that the entity never counted on Data’s lack of emotion. Which in turn would leave it, and him, locked in an eternal battle for the rest of time.’
‘Maybe they had no other choice,’ Seagram said, though it was clear he doubted his own words. It was almost a question. ‘Maybe they judged that this was the only way to save the universe.’
The group stood by in silence for several long moments, unable to tear their eyes away from Data’s plight.
At last, captain Picard said in a quiet, resigned voice, ‘We could expend the remainder of our lives confronting this dilemma, yet it is extremely doubtful we could come up with an alternative solution. If any of you have any ideas, I am open to suggestion.’
‘The entity was bottled up before,’ Riker said. ‘Why can’t we find a way to do it again?’
‘That’s not quite true,’ Geordi responded quietly. ‘The entity was tied to the artifact, and it was the artifact that was bottled up. The entity is out now, in our universe.’
‘I fail to understand why these creatures allowed the entity to leave the artifact,’ Worf growled.
‘Perhaps because trapping it was not a permanent solution,’ the captain responded. ‘Given the evidence found on the Romulan asteroid, it would seem that the entity managed to escape on more than one occasion.’
‘So that’s it?’ Riker demanded. ‘We’re just going to leave him here?’
‘I’m sorry, Data,’ Geordi said, stepping near to the writhing Data-Entity. ‘This is all my fault . . . what the hell?’ He stepped back, having noticed something odd about what he was seeing.
‘You must leave this place immediately, Geordi,’ came a familiar voice.
‘Data?’
‘There is no time to explain. You and the others must leave the pyramid as soon as you are able.’
‘Understood,’ the captain snapped, taking Geordi by the arm. ‘Enterprise, this is the captain. Beam us out of the pyramid-structure immediately, if not sooner. Set us down before the sentinels, as before.’
‘Aye, sir.’
Almost at once, through the transporter shimmer their vision bifurcated between the interior of the pyramid and the sunlight-drenched square. In an instant, the dark interior and its close ambience dissipated from their vision.
‘Enterprise to captain Picard ’
‘Picard here,’ the captain responded, tapping his communicator.
‘Sir, we are unable to transport those creatures from Seagram’s planet  Something’s blocking the transporter beam.’
‘Q ’ Picard demanded, ‘Are you responsible for this?’
‘Why am I always your first suspect when something bad happens?’ Q replied, then added as an afterthought, ‘No need to answer that. But, no, this is not my doing. They have elected to remain behind to deal with . . . whatever is going on inside, there.’
A concussion shook the ground. All eyes turned to the great pyramid, from which dust was beginning to rise.
‘And just what is going on inside that thing?’ Picard asked him as another concussion shook the ground.
‘I would say . . . the opposite of deus ex machina,’ Q quipped.
Riker gave the troublesome being a look. ‘Are you saying that Data is trying to get free of the entity?’
‘More like the entity can’t bear his presence, and is trying to give him the old heave-ho.’
‘But that would mean-’ Picard stopped himself and stared at the pyramid, shocked by the realisation.
‘Tearing itself apart because without the android it will no longer be complete,’ Q finished for him.
‘What will that do?’ Riker asked, his own gaze clenched to the pyramid in dread.
‘Who knows?’ Q replied with maddening nonchalance. ‘Such a thing has never happened before. Although in theory, it might succeed in starting a chain-reaction that will end up tearing the whole universe apart.’
‘So the creatures have remained behind to prevent this from happening?’ Worf said, images of heroic self-sacrifice playing across his imagination.
‘Nothing so graphically noble, I’m afraid,’ Q replied as he too began watching the pyramid with interest or dread as another concussion shook the ground. ‘No, they know there’s nothing they can do to prevent the entity from doing what it’s doing, so they are about to attempt an alternative solution.’
‘Which is?’ the captain demanded.
‘You know, I have no idea,’ Q replied with relish. ‘Whatever happens will be something new that even I have not been witness to before. Either that,’ he added more soberly, ‘or we’ll all be blown to bits.’
‘Whoa  My visor’s picking up something from inside the pyramid,’ Geordi said.
The captain frowned. ‘I’m not seeing anything.’
‘I’m not either,’ Riker seconded.
‘That’s because it’s some sort of intense energy buildup,’ Geordi told them.
‘Perhaps we should get back to the ship,’ Worf cautioned.
‘That wouldn’t do any good,’ Q told him. ‘If there’s an explosion, there will be no running away from it, no matter how far you go-’
All at once, there was an eruption of debris from the front of the pyramid. The dust had no sooner begun to settle when the cat-like creatures burst from the newly formed hole. But they were not alone  Behind them ran-
‘Look  It’s Data ’ Geordi shouted.
‘Captain,’ the android called, ‘you would do well to beam everyone back to the ship.’
At the same instant, the giant sentinels came to life and surged forward.
‘Enterprise, get us out of here ’ Picard barked into his intercom badge.
They were just disappearing into the transporter shimmer when something powerful and black burst from the pyramid and confronted the sentinels with a roar.

‘That wasn’t quite the solution I was hoping for,’ Q said in disappointment as he prepared to leave. ‘I found it anticlimactic, to say the least.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Seagram said. ‘What exactly happened in there?’
‘I am at a loss to understand it, myself,’ Data said. ‘One moment I was locked in conflict with the entity, the next I found myself on the outside, facing a creature that seemed to appear from nowhere.’
‘What was that thing?’ Geordi asked him. ‘And what became of the entity?’
‘That was the entity,’ Q told him, ‘or what had become of it. It seems Seagram’s friends came to the rescue after all.’
‘What exactly did they do?’ Riker asked him. ‘I didn’t get a good look at that thing, but it looked just like one of them, except it was several times their size.’
‘Yes, and afflicted with a particularly nasty disposition,’ Q told him, ‘a flaw it will bear for all time.’
‘So that’s it?’ Seagram said, hoping he could allow himself to feel relief. ‘It’s over? We can go home now?’
‘What about the sentinels?’ Worf asked. ‘Will that creature destroy them? Or will they succeed in killing it?’
‘They are effectively out of a job,’ Q said with grating levity, ‘with nothing to guard against but boredom. The creature in question will roam free in all its ill-willed glory until the universe itself comes to its final end. In the meantime, if you young people and your friends want a ride home,’ he said to Seagram and Raya, ‘I will take you there directly.’ To Picard, he said, ‘Anything for another crack at participating in the collective.’
‘Don’t worry,’ captain Picard told Seagram just before he, Raya, little Sunshine and the others disappeared, ‘he won’t succeed.’
As they vanished, Seagram’s wincing reply barely impinged upon Picard’s hearing.
‘True. But he’ll try.’

‘Captain’s Log, Supplemental:

‘A scan of the creature the entity has become reveals nothing of the old universe. For their part, the ancient sentinels soon went back to guarding the empty pyramid, as trapped in their role as Data almost became. There is the temptation to attempt making contact with them in order to learn something of their being and their past, but I suspect that, like the collective consciousness of Seagram’s creatures, their secrets are their own and have nothing whatever to do with us.
‘It seems that there are answers out there which are not meant for us, that, though spoken in a clear and unambiguous manner, will nevertheless remain incomprehensible to our ears, like the language of space or the murmur of an ocean shore.
‘It could well be that we ourselves entail what is meaningful to us, that that which is enigmatic is everything we are not and never will be.
‘In any event, I am glad that Mr Data has been returned to us, and will not have the enigma forced upon him for all eternity.

‘Captain’s Log, Out.’

‘What the hell ’ Seagram stared in disbelief. ‘What happened to all the damage? I thought we’d have to start all over again.’
‘Let’s just call this my wedding present,’ Q said with a bow as he began leaving with the group of creatures, still dressed in his safari outfit. ‘And now, I must bid you adieu, as I leave with my new friends and try to talk them into allowing me into their private world.’
When he and the great creatures had gone, Seagram sighed and drank in the sight of his newly-restored world.
‘It’s funny, but even though it’s the same as before, everything feels . . . I don’t know . . . changed somehow.’
‘You mean, old and new at the same time?’ Raya said, observing the way little Sunshine took in their surroundings with eyeless interest.
Seagram nodded, then was silent for several long moments. At last, he said, ‘Let’s get out of here . . . pack some food, follow the stream south and hike out to the cabin. For some reason this place seems too big for me right now.’
Raya smiled at what she was seeing in him. ‘What, the idea of becoming a father is making for more humble dreams?’
He smiled at that but wisely said nothing.

The ancient being Seagram called Sunshine watched as the two began making their way toward the base of the promontory and the cave Seagram had called home. Its mission now complete, it contemplated returning to its people. There was no longer any reason to involve these humanoids with the destiny of his people.
And yet . . . the brief time he’d spent with these strange creatures had been eventful, and pleasant for the most part. And he knew how keenly the two would miss him, should he leave.
They saddened him, too. Their lives were so very short, a mere moment in the lives of his kind. They would be gone, almost before he had a chance to really know them.
The decision was made the instant Seagram and Raya stopped and turned to him, waiting expectantly. He would play the part of a young, cherished thing gladly. After all, it wouldn’t be for very long.
Besides, if he allowed himself to live in the moment, their time together would seem to last forever.

Here ends Star Trek- Enigma

Posted in The Next Generation | Leave a comment

History Lesson

The fine blue lines glow in the darkness.

They each have a core of pure white that darkens gradually to azure first, and finally into deep cobalt at the outer edge. The two lines emanate from silver discs held aloft by thin, aluminum arms. The discs face each other like warring twins, each issuing a crackling rapier of opposing energy. The two discs and the two lines are part of the activation mechanism of large patchwork holoprojector that hangs in the nooks of a small, dark dorm like a mechanical cobweb.

With a sigh, Nicholas passes his index finger between the two lines. With a subtle audible crackle the two lines fuse into one. In a nanosecond his identity and program preferences are confirmed and the machine hums to life. Lights rise. The landscape morphs.

Reality changes.

Nicholas taps a series of keys with his right hand. With his left hand he swills from a tumbler of illegally replicated Romulan ale. He wipes his mouth and scowls at the ancient man standing before him.

“Howdy,” Nicholas grunts.

The man flickers, wavers, blinks.

The old man totters forward, taking tiny steps like a child. As the frail form moves into better light, Nicholas takes a long, slow look. The old man’s mottled skin is ghostly pale, covering the musculature beneath with little more opacity than a sheet of cellophane. A few wispy threads of blowing white hair struggle to maintain their tenuous grip on the old man’s skull. He is bent, nearly double, with a massive, misshapen hump rising nearly level with a wavering head.

The old man wears a tattered, discolored uniform.

Starfleet.

     When the old man speaks, the words come slowly. They creak their way out, as if spoken through wads of cotton, over a swollen tongue, with aching gums. The words sound painful.

“Hello, Nicholas,” he whispers.

Nicholas stands and the ice clinks softly on the sides of the tumbler. He takes a great, swishing gulp and circles behind the old man. Staring. The old man does not move.

“Professor Joforn was discussing it again today,” Nicholas spits the words. “He knows. He thinks it really bothers me when he brings it up. Ostensibly, he’s the instructor for emergency tactics, but it’s rather amazing how often history seems to leak into the discourse. He just does it to needle me, to antagonize me. He seems to think I am emotionally invested.”

Nicholas drowns the dregs of the ale and elbows the old man, too hard, in the side.

“What do you think of that?”

The old man stumbles, falls to one knee, and then rights himself, feebly. His eyes narrow and smolder with humiliation but he simply fixes a blazing glare on Nicholas in response.

“I think he’s right.”

Nicholas smirks and makes a petulant, whining noise in the back of his throat. He shuffles back to the blinking control panel inset in the blue acrylic of a small student desk. He pecks angrily at the keys, shakes his head, mutters a series of spoken commands and then turns. He grins at the old man.

The old man’s hump creaks and rises as a grimace of pain twist the thin, puckered lips. A thin line of drool forms at the corner of his mouth and begins to drip. Each time the old man wipes it away with the cuff of his uniform only to have it reform immediately. The wrinkles around the eyes multiply into hundreds of intersecting cracks. Even as the white of the eyes themselves turn rheumy and cobwebbed with veins, the old man’s irises never move, they never fail.

They remain locked on Nicholas.

They keep their heat.

“Feel better?” The old man speaks in a shaking, barely audible mumble. “He still resents you. A lot of them do. Always will. He still feels like he needs to tear you down, to have some sort of belated genetic vengeance. Some of them will always resent you.”

The old man coughs dryly, feebly. He steadies himself and locks eyes with Nicholas again.

“And some of them will always hate me.”

Nicholas stares at the flickering old man for a second longer and then turns, kicking his bunk and flinging his communicator into a sloppily stacked pile of padds. He pauses, fighting to control himself and turns back to the old man.

“End…” he begins, then pauses.

Nicholas closes his eyes, shutting out the intense stare of the hologram.

He still can’t look the old man in the eyes when he does it.

A thousand programming tweaks, a thousand petty torments, a thousand childish insults and yet still he cannot erase the dignity of the man, even in this imperfect representation.

Still, he cannot look the old man in the eyes when he says it.

Nicholas turns his back, the old man stars.

“End program,” he whispers.

 

With a tug, the dapper old officer straightens his tunic and strides into a wide, open plaza.

Looking up, he stares into the deep blue of the northern California skies. He knows, intellectually, that the sky is a projection to make the meals in the academy commissary a bit more pleasant. But, it is a pleasant illusion, and he appreciates the thinking and effort of it. A young man in an apron that very nearly matches the sky above stops and smiles.

“Can I bring you a beverage, sir?”

“Indeed,” the office replies. “Tea. Earl Gray. Hot.”

With a node, the waiter moves toward the kitchen leaving the man to enjoy the meticulously landscaped grounds. He wheels around toward the gardens when he hears his name called from across the plaza.

“Jean-Luc!” A stocky man in a Starfleet uniform waves. “Captain Picard!”

Captain Picard walks over briskly and takes the man’s hand in his own.

“It’s good to see you again, Admiral Miyamoto,” Picard says, returning Miyamoto’s firm grip with one of his own.

“Please, Jean-Luc,” Miyamoto replies, “I do grow tired of the formality necessitated by the training of cadets here at the academy. Please call me Tetsuo, at least when the students are at a safe distance.”

Picard grins broadly.

“Very good, Tetsuo. I shall be careful. It’s most pleasant to see you again. How long has it been since we roamed these very paths with mischief and revelry our primary concerns?”

Miyamoto grimaces with mock pain.

“So many years it’s early shocking to contemplate. I’ve heard that the story among the cadets is that I predate wrap drive by at least a decade.”

Picard returns with the comment with a chuckle. “My goodness, Tetsuo! That reckoning would place my birth sometime just after the discovery of fire then, I suppose!”

The two men share a long, full laugh as the waiter returns with Picard’s tea.

“Jean-Luc, it will mean a great deal to the cadets to speak with you. I have taken the liberty of planning several guest speaking appearances for you with each class of students. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No,” Picard says after a sip of tea. “Not in the least. I’m not nearly as busy as I once was, Tetsuo. I’m only too happy to speak with our future officers. However I’m quite sure, if my own memories are any indication, that these cadets are more interested in the Kobayashi simulation than they are in the doings of crusty old Starfleet dogs.”

“Probably,” Tetsuo huffs, shaking his head, “but since I contend with them five days a week, I think you can deal with them for a bit.”

“I’ll manage, Tetsuo. No worse than the Borg, I’m sure.”

“Hmmm,” grunts the Admiral as he polishes off a piece of Sunflower toast, “maybe marginally less violent, but at least as moody. And with a similar tendency toward bizarre attire.”

The two men finish a light breakfast while enjoying the bustle and noise as the cadets rush in for their first meals. Some of them cast sideways glances at the distinguished old man sitting with Admiral Miyamoto. Picard scowls at a few of them, sending a wordless message about gawking at superior officers.

After a final cup of tea, Picard stands to leave.

“Well, Admiral Miyamoto, if you will send the syllabus you’ve prepared to my quarters…”

“Captain Picard,” a frown passes over Miyamoto’s face. “If we could walk for a while… there is just one other issue I would like to discuss.”

“Captain Picard,” a frown passes over Miyamoto’s face. “If we could walk for a while… There is just one other issue I would like to discuss.”

Picard notes the concern at the downturn corners of Miyamoto’s mouth and wonders about the possible cause.

“Certainly Admiral,” Picard says. “Lead on.”

The two men leave the commissary, the bustle, and the holographic sky to the cadets, and walk toward the main transport to operations.

After the two men travel by magnetic platform across much of the campus of Starfleet Academy, they stop at an arched entrance with massive, semi transparent windows fanning from a central point like the petals of a great, mechanical flower. Through the gauzy opacity of the windows, Picard sees visual clues of a fast, airy open space.

Through the center window, a massive shadow looms.

Inexplicably, the hairs on Picard’s neck stand.

“Is this new?” Picard questions Miyamoto. “It has been a while since I last toured the Academy but I don’t…”

“Indeed,” Admiral Miyamoto replies. “This is the Academy’s newest training simulator room. It is…” Miyamoto grins widely as he gropes for the right word.

Unique,” he finishes.

Picard sips through the doors into a massive open courtyard crisscrossed by lattice of computer kiosks, holostations, and the needle shaped silver spires of deep space communication hubs.

Jean-Luc Picard stops. He gates. His face turned skyward and his eyes widen. 70-year-old lines vanish, wrinkles seem to fade. The child he was, the one who wandered aimlessly in vineyards and laughed with joy when he saw his first starship, wells up from Picard’s very genes and imprints itself on the old captain’s face.

Picard stands and blinks as he leaves the world, if only for an instant.

Miyamoto is slow to notice and speaks to a man who was now lost in some distant star field.

“… Our newest, and finest, classroom. The computer kiosks represent the latest in Starfleet training technology. It is the highest degree of realism in flight simulation. The deep space hubs allow for direct communication, as Mission parameters allow, with crew from real vessels on real flights. The students truly…”

Miyamoto finally pauses and notices Picard, eyes transfixed, on the mammoth shape floating above them.

He grins, taking up a position adjacent to his friend, and joins him in a blatant display of boyish glee.

“Yes,” Miyamoto says, “that is the reaction she typically gets.”

Above them, the sky is open to the San Francisco summer. Twin force field emitters encase the classroom and protect it from the elements. Otherwise, the room is completely borderless. Suspended in the air above them, with her plated belly barely 50 meters from the ground Picard reckons, is a constitution class starship.

Sort of.

     Large tracts of the hull are missing, and the modules and walkways, Jeffries tubes and wiring harnesses, the crew quarters and the turbo lift shafts, are held in place by a mostly-transparent shimmering blue force field. The warp engines are nearly complete. Students can be seen on various levels; talking, taking notes, and generally exploring. Just beyond the main sensor, the hull plating is mostly intact. Her registry is clearly visible, lit by ground-based spotlight.

Picard knows the sequence by heart. The predecessor to his own beloved starship.

Minus the D.

     “The Enterprise,” Picard whispers in church-tones. Finally willing to turn his eyes from her, he faces Miyamoto.

“Tetsuo,” he says, “she’s beautiful.”

Picard takes Miyamoto by the arm, grinning like a small boy.

“How?” Picard asks.

“Well,” Miyamoto starts, “we really had no choice.”

The two men begin to walk again, taking in the scale of the new ship, rejoicing all over again at her mere presence with each new vantage point.

“It was partially my idea,” Miyamoto says. Picard chuckles inwardly as his friend fights back an all-too-obvious swell of pride. “And of course the project was lobbied for earnestly by Captain Spock among others.”

“It’s a brilliant use, Tetsuo,” Picard says, “I can imagine the inspiration her presence engenders, as well as the practical educational applications, must be staggering…but the original Enterprise was destroyed in 2285. Every academy freshman knows that.”

“Indeed it was,” Miyamoto agrees, “But what many have forgotten, or simply never considered, is that the Enterprise James Kirk sacrificed in 2285 was hardly the same ship he commanded on his first five year mission.” Picard’s mouth drops.

“Of course,” he declares, grabbing Miyamoto’s arm, “Will Decker supervised a massive refit in 2270! There was some controversy at the time…”

“Right,” Miyamoto replies, finishing his explanation. “The so-called refit was vey nearly a rebirth. No one wanted to bear the political brunt of decommissioning such a legendary craft, so she was massively overhauled. Nearly all of the main systems were upgraded, many were replaced completely, and the entire original bridge module was removed. The hull itself was replaced in many places weakened by various battle wounds. The refit ended up being nearly as costly, in terms of resources, as building a new starship would have been. As a result, the starship that left orbit in 2271 was, in almost every regard, an entirely new Enterprise.”

“The old components were set to be recycled quietly,” Miyamoto continues, “but word leaked and, again, the outcry from both preservationists, and many within Starfleet as well, kept the old components warehoused and out of harm’s way. Which is where they sat, silent and forgotten, until a conversation I had with Captain Spock about improving our simulation facilities ultimately yielded the concept you see now.”

The two old men stand in the bright sun, smiling at the grand old ship. Picard is sure the Enterprise is smiling back.

“Well done, Tetsuo,” Jean-Luc whispers, patting Miyamoto on the shoulder. “Well done.”

Admiral Miyamoto shakes himself from the reverie and a frown shades his broad face.

“I’d offer to you a tour, Jean-Luc, but I’m afraid I’m due at an inspection about ten minutes from now,” he says.

Picard shivers, secretly thrilled at the prospect of trolling the ancient corridors of the original Enterprise alone.

“Not at all, Tetsuo,” Picard replies. “I’ll miss your company of course, but I’m perfectly content to entertain myself aboard the Enterprise for a few hours.”

“I’ll endeavor not frighten any cadets,” he adds with a good-natured snarl.

“Actually, Jean-Luc,” the concern again washes over Miyamoto’s face. “This was really just a pleasant diversion I thought you’d enjoy since I wanted to come to this wing anyway. In truth, I brought you here for another reason entirely. There is a class across the hallway about to begin that I hoped you might consider sitting in on.”

“Well, Tetsuo,” Picard says, “I’m not sure the instructor would feel comfortable having an old space relic like myself critiquing…”

“Yes, well,” Miyamoto interrupts, waving his hands. “Be that as it may, there is a student here at the academy who is having problems. He is a gifted young man, Jean-Luc. Amazing intelligence scores, a natural leader…at least he was at one time. He even apprenticed with Dr. Lewis Zimmerman in his freshman year. Dr. Zimmerman has said that this young man was the only student who truly grasped the advanced logarithms that have facilitated recent advances in holographic entities.”

“Well, I am genuinely sorry for this young man, Tetsuo,” Picard says, “but surely a counselor would be better equipped to deal with this.”

Miyamoto squints and locks eyes with Picard.

“No, Jean-Luc, this case is different. Very different. This young man resists any attempt to analyze him. His potential expulsion from Starfleet would be problematic, and I think you may be uniquely qualified to speak with him.”

Picard stares at his old friend, forehead wrinkling in bafflement.

“I don’t mean to be cryptic, Jean-Luc,” Miyamoto continues. “The young man has a class in the wing just across from here and I believe I have threatened him sufficiently to ensure that he will attend. If you would please just sit in, perhaps have a few words with him…”

“Very well,“ Picard relents. “If you think it’s that important, Tetsuo, I’ll do it. Against my better judgment.”

“Thank you Jean-Luc,” Miyamoto says, relief washing over his feature. “I will contact you later to see how things went.”

As Miyamoto pecks his way though the thronged corridor, suddenly full of chattering cadets making their way to classes, Picard follows and frowns.

With a short, wishful vision of his gifted colleague Deanna Troi projecting alongside a soundtrack of a skeptical inner monologue, Picard enters the lecture hall where students have already begun to fill the ascending seats. He turns to Miyamoto just as he turns to leave.

“Tetsuo,” he calls. “How will I know him?”

Miyamoto smiles wanly.

“Listen to the instructor. To the other students. Just listen. Someone will be talking about him. They always do. Listen for the name Kirk, Jean-Luc.”

Picard stares after the departing Admiral Miyamoto. A baffled frown clouds his features.

 

Nicholas slumps in the cushioned seat and pulls a wrinkled collar up around his face. The collar does not hide the scowl that stretches across a handsome, masculine face. The collar doesn’t mitigate the glaring, anxious blues eyes, and it certainly fails to disguise the contempt the young man issues in glowering waves.

The target of his contempt, a wiry Vulcan, stands on the dais below. His name is lit in golden letters in a holographic projection beside him.

Professor Hirom Joforn.

The hologram shifts to a representation of a battle between two Starfleet vessels.

Joforn’s lecture continues; Nicholas’ scowl deepens.

“…and now, students, I feel it only appropriate to turn to security breach that rendered Starfleet vessels helpless on a number of occasions during the period of 2284 to 2290. The breach was not fully corrected until 2291. In the interim the breach, brought about by an arrogant misuse of a last-option Starfleet security feature, resulted in tactical vulnerability in several Starfleet conflicts.”

Joforn scans the seats, his eyes stopping at the seat occupied by the scowling, skulking Nicholas.

The professor smiles, just slightly, his features tightening into a narrow, pinched smirk.

“You see, cadets,” Joforn continues, “Starfleet was not always driven by the benevolent, scientific-minded officers that compromise the ranks today. Indeed, many officers in the latter parts of the twenty-third century seemed to regard Starfleet as a convenient vehicle with which to satisfy personal tendencies toward violence and seemingly unquenchable libidos.”

The hologram above Joforn roils again and the display shifts to a representation of a large, fierce-looking man. Light brown skin, intense eyes, long hair that looks as though it might have been cropped with a blunt rock. The letters of his name appear seconds later.

Khan Noonien Singh.

Beside Singh, another image appears and a wave of muttering ripples through the cadets. Some shift in their seats uncomfortably, some turn slightly, casting sidelong glances searching for the cadet they know is among them. Some even turn and stare at Nicholas directly.

The new name appears beside the new image.

James Tiberius Kirk.

“Congratulations,” Nicholas mutters to himself, “you managed to work in a dig against him, and a snide remark for me, into tactics class in record time.”

From the dials, Joforn gestures for quiet, and continues.

“In 2285 the genetically engineered terrorist Khan Noonien Sing and a band of followers was discovered alive in the Ceti system. After hijacking the USS Reliant, Singh discovered information relating to the top secret Project Genesis led by Dr. Carol Marcus, and was eventually able to take possession of the Genesis device. Itself. The federation vessel USS Enterprise was dispatched to attempt to retake the stolen Genesis device under the leadership of James Kirk.”

Nicholas shudders at the sound of his own surname, spoken with barely suppressed contempt by Joforn. Several cadets crane around, adding their own smirks and cut stares to Joforn’s. Nicholas glares back at them, eyes burning.

“After several baldly incompetent strategic maneuvers and procedural violations,” Joforn continues, walking slowly across the dais.

“Kirk, having been badly overmatched by Singh, proceeded to shatter Starfleet regulations, and future tactical integrity, by revealing the command code line. The command codes for Starfleet vessels were a last-line defense mechanism programmed into the operational string in case of hijacking by hostile powers. After this breach, brought about the reckless use by then Admiral Kirk…”

Nearly all of the cadets not their affirmation at Joforn’s analysis, but from a seat three rows above and to the left of Nicholas, an intentionally loud cough interrupts Joforn’s diatribe. The cadets wheel around to see the source.

A female Klingon cadet with large, dark eyes is glowering at Joforn in a way that only a Klingon can. Narrowing his eyes, Joforn taps a series of keys at his console to reveal the cadet’s name. He scowls up at the Klingon, matching her stare with one clearly honed from talking down students presumptuous enough to disagree with him.

“Would you care to make a comment cadet TahKisch?” Joforn’s tone slices the air like a phaser, silencing the chattering students. Even their breathing quiets. Joforn and TahKisch stretch their stalemate to an uncomfortable length before the young woman finally relents.

“No,” she growls. “No, sir.”

Joforn casts a final, reproachful sneer at TahKisch and returns to his lecture.

“As a result of Kirk’s disregard for proper procedure, Starfleet security was compromised and the command code secret fell into the hands of both the Klingon and Romulan empires who utilized this breach to…”

Again Joforn’s lecture is interrupted, this time by a full-fledged bark from the back of the hall. Not a cough, not a sneeze. Nicholas watches as a distinguished older gentleman stands and calls Joforn’s name once more.

“Professor,” he repeats, “if time permits, I would very much like to have the opportunity to make the comment that cadet TahKisch passed up.”

His anger at being interrupted yet again brings a rose to Joforn’s  face despite his Vulcan nature. He pecks his command console again.

“I really don’t think that now…” Joforn starts.

“My name will not be on your rolls, Professor,” the old man thunders. “But I will be glad to share it with you. My name is Jean-Luc Picard. Formerly of Starfleet. I am visiting the academy on a guest speaking errand for my friend Admiral Miyamoto.”

The room falls utterly silent. Breathing stops. Students turn in their seats.

“Cuh-Captain,”Joforn begins. “My apologies. Had I known you were here I would have made a more formal…”

“No apology necessary,” Picard replies, voice quieter now but still full of bass and authority. He casts a quick glance at Nicholas Kirk. “Not to me, anyway.”

“Professor,” Picard continues, “I must say your knowledge of Starfleet history is impressive if somewhat out of place in a lecture on tactics.”

Joforn swallows and his eyes shift nervously to the gawking cadets.

“Well, Captain, I wished to provide some historical context for…” Joforn rattles.

“Oddly enough, Professor,” Picard rumbles, “context is exactly what your lecture seems to be lacking. The galaxy was a morass of potentially catastrophic political tensions in 2295. A three-way cold war, Professor, between the Klingons, Starfleet and the Romulans, threatening to explode at any moment.”

The silence amplifies the force of Picard’s voice.

He continues.

“James Kirk, like most Starfleet officers of the time, was charged with the herculean task of defending the border of the federation while continuing to pursue the twin goals of scientific exploration and peaceful expansion.”

Joforn shifts weight anxiously and finally finds a voice, even tinnier now, and hesitant when compared to Picard’s.

“I’m not sure I see what point you are trying to make, Captain,” he wheezes.

“No,” Picard replies, “I believe you don’t. Jim Kirk, and many others like him, tread a razor’s line between catastrophe and nervous stability in a time that we can scarcely conceive of now. The very fact that officers were physically able to serve under such conditions is a testament to their competence, diligence, and sense of duty.”

Every cade in the room is silent, eyes locked on Picard.

“The command code incident you mention is factual, Professor Joforn, but your interpretation is wildly inaccurate. The command code concept was horribly flawed from the onset. Indeed, officer complaints about the foolishness of the design were logged as early as 2252 when the sequence for the USS Gallipoli was inadvertently accessed by an alien probe. Most credible evidence suggest that the code’s existence was familiar to both the Klingons and the Romulans far before 2285.”

The cadets in the room turn to Joforn, expectantly. He backs up awkwardly, tripping slightly.

“I suppose that is true,” he croaks.

“Oh, Professor, it is most certainly true,” Picard says. “James Kirk took a major starship design flaw and turned in to an advantage against a formidable adversary. I utterly reject your interpretation of these events as in any way indicative of failure or dereliction of duty on the part of Kirk.”

Joforn’s features freeze as he stares around at the cadets, at Picard, and particularly at the suddenly scowl-free face of Nicholas Kirk.

“Well Captain, we all certainly appreciate your contribution to our discussion. While you version of the Singh incident may provide food for thought, it is beyond question that James Kirk had a long, problematic record of procedural and temporal violations during his career in Starfleet…”

“Captain Kirk also had a long, distinguished record of defending the borders of the federation and of loyalty to his crew,” a voice interrupts. This time it isn’t Picard’s voice that rings out.

TahKisch stand and nods curtly.

“No one had reason to harbor greater enmity for Kirk than the Empire at that time. However, even before his gallantry at Khitomer, he was recorded in the history of the Empire as a noble warrior, peerless in battle, and the equal of any Klingon officer.”

The young Klingon finishes and punctuates her comment with a proud smile at the other cadets.

The students fidget uncomfortably and whisper to one another. Picard shoots TahKisch a nod of approval. On the dais below, Joforn wrings his hands and looks back and forth between Picard and TahKisch. As Picard turns to leave, Joforn calls to the class.

“Students,” he says, pasting on a formal smile. “Let us give Captain Picard a round of applause for his comments and his valuable insight.”

Picard wheels at the classroom entrance and, with a warning scowl, silences the smattering of applause.

“Thank you,” Picard growls. “I assure you that is unnecessary.”

Picard takes another step before turning to Joforn a final time.

“And, Professor Joforn, I will be sure to put you in contact with an associate of mine who, I’m sure, will be quite pleased to assist you with future lectures. That is, of course, if you think that would be of any assistance.”

Joforn’s eyes narrow to slits.

“Yes,” He hisses through clenched teeth. “That would be greatly appreciated.”

Gathering his padd with one hand, Nicholas turns to follow Picard out. As he strides up the hall steps, he catches the eyes of two people following his ascent: Joforn and TahKisch.

He winks at them both.

Joforn scowls. TahKisch grins. Nicholas laughs.

Outside in the hallway, Picard sits on a small, silver bench and folds his hands neatly across his lap. He picks at his tunic, composing himself, as Nicholas Kirk walks nervously over to him. Kirk’s uniform is in shabby condition. His own tunic is badly wrinkled. He rakes oily, disheveled hair back over his head as he arrives at Picard’s side.

“Captain Picard, I…” Nicholas begins.

Picard stands and rises to his full height. His eyes seem to burn as he glowers at the cadet.

“Silence, cadet!” Picard emphasizes the t in cadet with an angry click.

Kirk shivers visibly and jerks himself into a position of attention, letting the padd clatter to the ground. Picard circles him, never letting his eyes stray from the young man. It is a motion, Kirk notes, not unlike what might be expected from a shark.

“You are a Starfleet officer-in-training, Cadet Kirk,” Picard begins. “I have no earthly notion why you strayed from your quarters in this state of dress, with your hair in this motley fashion, but it is an embarrassment to both the uniform and to the institution it represents. You will one day stroll across the hillocks of foreign lands, stride the halls of the highest offices of sentient government, and you will be the very face of the federation to species who have never seen a human and may never again.”

Picard stops speaking as he stands nose to nose with young Kirk.

“Should you ever appear in public again, as a Starfleet representative, in such a state as you are now,” Picard growls, “I will consider it both a slight against the federation and a personal insult to me. Do you understand, cadet?”

It takes Kirk a second or two to find the air to speak with.

“Understood, sir,” he whispers.

The two stand in the empty corridor for a few moments more with one of them growing more and more uneasy.

Finally, Picard relents.

“Now Cadet Kirk,” he says. “I would like to chat with you as you walk back to your quarters, if you don’t mind.”

“Certainly, sir,” Nicholas replies. Kirk throws his shoulders back as far as they will go and strides in the direction of the magnetic transport hub. The two chat in hushed tones as they walk.

“Cadet,” Picard says, “how long have you dealt with the boorish ravings of Joforn?”

Nicholas shrugs.

“Not that long,” he says. “Just this semester really. But he isn’t the only one. Most of them, the professors, seem to know who I am and who he was.”

Picard glances down at the young man, suddenly welling with empathy for the burden of the name he bears. He cannot escape the name, cannot escape the obligation It is a feeling Picard knows well. His own family name had been a weight that he only leaned to bear gracefully after the untimely death of his nephew and brother. But then, Picard had the gifted counseling of Deanna Troi at his disposal.

This young man, Picard knows, will have to make do with the words of an old solitary officer.

“Cadet Kirk,” Picard says, raising his voice over the slight hum of the magnetic platform. “Your name is a burden, yes, but is also an honor. I can only tell you that I know of your quandary for I have experienced similar problems myself. Sixty years ago, your name would have opened undeserved doors for you, as every officer in Starfleet would have given anything to touch the legend of Kirk.”

Nicholas casts a skeptical eye at Picard.

“Yes, he continues, “I realize that it may not seem that way to you now. Political climates change. Paradigms shift. Academic and political leaders gauge the social temperament and laud, or excoriate, the past in the same way that might cast a favorable light upon themselves. The same professors and fellow cades who sneer at you now would have thrown rose petals at your feet had history shifted a millimeter in another direction.”

Kirk nods and clutches the padd to his tunic.

Picard frowns. He senses that the boy listens to his words, maybe believes them, but cannot accept them.

“History is littered with the biographies of men and women who were once heroes but later vilified, and then, in many cases, deemed virtuous again. Daikel Raider. Ka-Resh of Qu’onos. Christopher Columbus. Figures in the mosaic of history that once were praised as paragons of virtue. The social perception shifts and they become monsters; villains of epic proportions. The figures themselves don’t change of course; only the social mores by which they are judged does.”

Nicholas Kirk stops short as they step off the platform in front of his suite. His face is red and his eyes are swollen. He struggles to even his voice as he speaks.

“So how do we know?” he asks in a whisper. “How do I know? If I am related to a hero or of…a…of…”

The young man stops short, biting back tears.

Picard takes the cadet’s arm and turns him.

“Yes,” he says softly. “That is the problem isn’t it? We have the tales of their deeds, their words sometimes, with which to judge the great characters of history. All of it recalled though imperfect means, fallible memories, and then analyzed through a lens of bias and judgment. Even with the technology we now possess, social context can render any act, even those which once seemed so clear, cloudy and nearly incomprehensible in retrospect.”

A distant clicking of shoes against tile is the only sound that occupies the hallway. Both men, young and old, stand in silent contemplation.

“Nicholas,” Picard says, turning and staring through a large skylight above them. “You are unique. You are not merely the sum of the logarithms of your genetics. Yours is a destiny unfettered by what has happened before. Embrace it. Let no one tell you what you must be because of what your family has been.

Nicholas swallows hard and takes Picard’s hand.

“Thank you, sir,” he says.

As the young man turns to leave, Picard calls to him.

“Nicholas,” he says, his voice lowering and eyes his growing intense. “You must also know this. Even if only to correct the ravings of those like Joforn.”

“James Tiberius Kirk was good. He was the sort of man who would risk his very career to save a member of his crew that was lost. He was the sort of man that would deny himself the love of his only child simply because a strong woman wished to spare her son the sort of trials you now face. James Kirk was the sort of man who would sacrifice a place in paradise itself, who would give his very life, alone and unheralded on a lifeless rock of a planet…”

Picard stops, eyes blazing.

“All on the words of a man he did not even know.”

He faces the cadet and shakes his hand.

“Goodbye, cadet,” he says, “and please realize that I’m not joking in this.”

Picard steps back on the magnetic platform and scowls at Kirk.

“Fix that damned hair.”

Nicholas Kirk stands and stares down the corridor, long after Picard has gone.

 

The two old men laugh over the sound of the clinking ice and the subdued chatter of conservation in the officer’s lounge. Admiral Miyamoto and Captain Picard sit and chat as the chilly bar air flows into the room through the oval observation window above. They lean their heads back, speak of old times, and howl about the miscreants they once were.

“Oh Jean-Luc,” Miyamoto cries, his face red from laughter, “you mean you had no idea that the Pandelebrians were omnisexual?”

“No,” Picard croaks, his eyes tearing from the mirth. “And when they began the excretion ritual right before dessert, Beverly Crusher stood up, wrapped her dinner napkin around Wesley’s entire head and ran from the room!”

Miyamoto laughs so hard he nearly jostles himself from his chair. He slaps the table with such verve that several Bajoran observers stare at them and grin nervously.

As the peals of laughter ratchet down finally, the two men chortle and wheeze themselves back to relative calm like two old engines powering down. Miyamoto waves the waiter over and orders himself another drink.

“One more for you, Jean-Luc? My treat?” he asks.

“No, thank you, Tetsuo,” Picard replies. “I really must get to my quarters and rest before I chat with the freshmen in the morning class you scheduled. I also want to contact an old friend before I turn in.”

“As you wish,” Miyamoto says, settling way back in the reclining chair and using his ample belly as a makeshift beverage tray. “I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to come. Not only for the students, Jean-Luc, but for me. It’s a real pleasure seeing you again.”

“And for me, Tetsuo,” Picard says. “There are far too few times like this nowadays.”

As the men grin contentedly, two cadets walk sheepishly into the lounge to deliver a message for an officer at the table adjacent to them. One of them, a skinny and awkward Terran, bangs his shin into the table and spills the officer’s drink down his tunic. The other cadet, a round-faced Andorian, grabs his friend by the arm and hustles out amid a chorus of sniggers.

Miyamoto shakes his head and exhales loudly in frustration.

“I wonder sometimes,” he says, “about this crop of cadets, Jean-Luc. It’s often enough to make you concerned for the very future of Starfleet. They bumble. They stumble. They dress poorly.”

“Indeed they do,” Picard agrees. “But surely there were two old men, sitting just about where we are now, saying precisely the same things about us several decades ago.”

Miyamoto just nods, grinning widely.

“No doubt,” he says.

Nicholas Kirk’s deep blue eyes flash in Picard’s subconscious. The intensity, the confusion. From somewhere deep in the unused corridor’s of Picard’s mind, a man’s voice rumbles. Words that Picard has never heard before rattle and echo about his neural pathways. They sound wise.

They sound true.

“Besides, Tetsuo,” Picard says, sharing his epiphany with his friend, “I don’t think we’ve run out of history just yet.”

 

Hirom Joforn mutters angrily to himself as he prepares his lecture hologram for the next day’s classes.

He putters around in his smallish office, fastidiously stacking padds, arranging the furniture, ordering his combadges. As he flits about, he grunts and hisses.

“Picard,” he spits, talking to himself. “Never was much of an officer himself. Full-blooded Terrans can never quite rid themselves of their human-centric bias. Probably knows that James Kirk was an undisciplined playboy just as well as I do.”

Joforn ambles over to the replicator and orders a cup of hot green tea. He takes the cup carefully with both hands and places it on his desk.

He continues his nasal soliloquy.

“And that whelp, Kirk’s namesake, will never distinguish himself in the halls of this academy until he accepts what his family name really means, what his culture truly stood for, and learns to reject both utterly.”

As Joforn sits and brings the hot tea to his mouth, his communication display hums to life and the Starfleet logo appears.

“Yes, go ahead,” he says, sipping the tea.

“Professor Joforn,” says the computer in an even, feminine voice, “you have an incoming communication from the planet Romulus.”

Hirom Joforn’s brow wrinkles in confusion. He rubs his jaw for a moment, thinking of who on Romulus could possibly want to speak with him.

“Commence,” he says, bringing the cup of tea to his mouth.

A face etched with lines of age an wisdom fills the screen. Deeply set, intelligent eyes stare at Joforn from across the vastness of space. The dark eyes and the corners of the mouth seem tense; hold the subtlest measure of anger. Joforn, like nearly every federation citizen, knows the face well. It has a Vulcan aspect like his.

It has a Terran aspect like his.

“Greetings, Professor,” the Vulcan says, his irises piercing Joforn from across the gulf. “A colleague of mine, a friend, has recently informed me that I might be of some assistance to you.”

Joforn’s mouth opens and closes. No sounds emerge.

“I was told,” the Vulcan continues, “that, on the subject of James Kirk, you are in desperately in need of history lesson.”

Joforn drops the teacup, spilling the hot drink down the front of his nightshirt.

On Romulus, the Vulcan raises a single eyebrow.

 

The thin blue lines glow in the small room.

The discord remains: stacks of padds askew, the smell of replicated food improperly disposed of. It is, in short, a cadet’s room. But now, amid the chaos, a strain order has erupted.

Uniforms, pressed and cleaned, are neatly arranged in a closet once reserved for crates of anything illegal. A holoprojector, once jury-rigged and scattered, is now fully assembled and pristine.

And working.

He stands there, still an old man because that is the way he appeared in most of the images and holograms that Nicholas Kirk ever saw of his infamous relative. The stooped back is straight now. The eyes are cloaked with wrinkles, but clear and true. The uniform, like Nicholas’ own, is pristine. No longer shaking, no longer feeble, the hologram stands in front of Nicholas Kirk, smiling, almost smirking.

Almost swaggering.

“You know,” the Kirk hologram says, staring into a small vanity mirror, “you’re a fine engineer. I…look…great!”

     Nicholas chuckles.

“Yeah, you do,” he says. “I must admit it. You do.”

The hologram circles Nicholas, sizing him up.

“You look different somehow,” he says, rubbing his chin.

“Yep,” Nicholas replies, raking his fingers through his coif. “New haircut.”

There is a moment of silence as the two Kirks stare at one another.

“I think,” Nicholas pauses, “I think I owe you an apology. The things I’ve said to you, the programs I’ve run…”

“Think nothing of it,” the hologram says, cutting Nicholas off. “It wasn’t even much fun being Kirk’s hologram when I was still in the training database. The professors and cadets alike mainly called me up to point out a three dimensional example whenever they wanted to illustrate incompetence or arrogance in Starfleet history.”

He puts his hand on Nicholas’s shoulder.

“And I could always be turned off,” he finishes softly.

Nicholas sits on the small dorm bed and the hologram joins him.

“How did you deal with it?” Nicholas asks.

The hologram raises his eyebrows before answering.

“Dr. Zimmerman programmed me when he was quite young. He did exhaustive research into Kirk’s personality, attitude, and beliefs. In short, no one in the world, except maybe Spock, knows Jim Kirk better than I do. After all,” he grins. “How could they? I know who Kirk was; I know who I am.”

Nicholas squints, not quite satisfied. He shakes his head.

“When I studied with Professor Zimmerman he was working on a subroutine. Very advanced. A program that would allow a hologram to self-activate using only ambient light and a sophisticated power conservation mode. I…um…” Nicholas clears his throat, “borrowed the program when I left.”

Nicholas peers craftily at the hologram.

After a second, realization dawns on the hologram and his eyes widen with anticipation.

“I couldn’t guarantee your continued existence once you leave the database here; the program was very experimental. You would have to be careful not to stray very far from a light source, and you could only very rarely use enough power to generate yourself with full opacity…”

Nicholas stops, waiting for a reply from Kirk.

The hologram stares around the room, as if assessing the space. He walks along wall, sliding his hands across it. At last he turns back to the cadet.

“Sounds like fun,” he says.

Nicholas nods.

“Computer,” he says. “Release hologram.”

With a flicker and a wave, James Kirk disappears.

Nicholas sighs heavily and smiles at the empty air.

 

Aboard the bridge module of the USS Enterprise, two cadets, one Bajoran and one Klingon, take detailed notes on constitution class engineering. A distinguished old officer walks up behind them. Startled, the two cadets jerk to attention.

“As you were,” the officer says. “Well, gentlemen, they don’t make starships like this anymore.”

The two cadets exchange amused glances.

“No sir,” the Klingon says, “I suppose not.”

“Please,” the officer tells them. “Carry on.”

The officer turns and lowers himself in the captain’s chair. He sinks his fingers into the armrests, squeezing them. He leans back and stares through the forward view screen, eyes locked on the faux starscape in front of him.

“Sulu,” he whispers, “take us out…”

The confused cadets wheel around to question the officer.

“Sir,” the Bajoran says, “did you say…”

He stops.

The old officer is gone, but the imprint in the captain’s chair remains.

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

“STAR TREK: MANDELA”

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.

———————————————————————————————–

CHAPTER 1

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.

———————————————————————————————

CHAPTER 2

Stardate:

 59652.7

 Old Calendar Date:

 0500 Hours, 12 August 2382

 Location:

 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.

 Stardate:

 59644.8

Old Calendar Date:

0730 Hours

8 August 2382

Location:

 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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Resistance is futile

Resistance is futile

It’s approximately fourteen years after the Battle of Wolf 359. Stardate 57498.8. The location is the Delta Quadrant, near a desolate sector on the outer rim.

A Borg Cube detects a space anomaly on their long-range scans, and heads toward it at warp 9.9. The energy spike had been very high, so this disturbance in their space needed to be investigated immediately.

The massive cube ship was the largest and most powerful vessel in the Galaxy. Its ability to quickly analyze and adapt was its greatest advantage. Combined with its ability to function even when badly damaged, and then rapidly repair itself made the cube ship virtually impossible to destroy. The Federation learned this fact at Wolf 359 when too many of their fleet had been so easily destroyed by just one such ship.

When the Borg reached the location they witnessed a whirlpool-like swirling mass of black and dark-grey that had formed within the vast emptiness of space. It was a space fold, a dimension of nothingness. A dimension without time and mass that linked one part of space with another, and it was large enough to allow something as immense as a small moon through its black centre.

What came through the hole in space was totally unexpected by the Borg. They witnessed the monster as it slowly exited the dark mass. It was a thing right from the deepest, darkest recesses of whatever was the equivalent of a Borg Hell (if there was such a thing). No words could have given justice to this horror. It drifted out into space-time like a colossal ghost ship.

The alien vessel was enormous, dwarfing the Borg Cube by comparison. It had a dull, slate-grey colour, and was roughly spherical in shape. It had many dozens of spine-like protrusions coming out of its central core, but they weren’t all the same length. Some were only half the length of the longest, giving the thing a chaotic, disquieting look. Its core was small in comparison to the diameter of its spines, and gave off a pulsating red glow, almost heart-like in manifestation.

But the strangest thing of all was that it didn’t even look real. Stationary, the horror seemed to vibrate all over, and every couple of seconds, it would slightly shift from one position to another – left, right, forward, back.

Although the Borg’s instruments were all in optimal working order, the distortions and shifting patterns coming from the ship made getting a positive lock on it almost impossible. It seemed to shift between dimensions. Also, their scans of the alien ship came back with very little data – a virtual impossibility by Borg standards.

Any other species would have been extremely apprehensive at such an encounter, but not the Borg. Whether it was the machine part of them, their arrogance, or a little of both is unknown, but their initial communication was the same as it had been for countless other absorbed races.

“We are the Borg. Surrender your ship. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile.”

There came back no reply. It was as if the leviathan wasn’t even aware of the Borg, or unconcerned about the small, metal cube next to them.

The alien vessel had no shields to prevent teleportation, so the Borg sent in dozens of drones to capture the ship. Once teleported within the strange ship, neuro-processor links between the individual drones and the Hive were immediately cut off. With the loss of contact, there was no way to retrieve the ship boarding drones, and no way to know what was transpiring within their soon to be acquisition. It never occurred to them that they were no longer among the living.

The Borg sent in dozens of more drones, but the result was the same. After a third attempt, they realized that continuing this course of action was indeed futile.

Next, they used a powerful plasma beam on the silent ship in an attempt to try to cut their way in. But the beam that should have cut through the vessel’s hull like a laser through butter was equally ineffective. They would have had more success attacking a cloud of smoke.

Whether it was the attacks of the Borg or that the alien ship’s scans of the sector were complete is unknown, but the great ship suddenly came to life. The pulsating red core of the ship glowed brighter. Several of the spine-like protrusions facing the Borg Cube became luminous, and a form of white energy was released from each. A pulsating, white ball of energy formed, and although basically spherical, it appeared unstable due to its constant shape changes, from sphere to ellipse and back again. As soon as the energy ball ceased growing, it slowly moved away from the great ship, and built up speed quickly as it launched itself toward the annoying, little cube.

The Borg managed to hit the deadly missile with a plasma beam. Unfortunately, the odd missile didn’t detonate in mid-space, as was assumed.

A split second later, it hit the Cube head-on, but there was no explosion of orange flames or a blinding flash. Instead, the entire vessel was consumed in a pulsating, white glow. It was eating through the cube like some kind of super acid. The ship’s amazing ability to repair itself just couldn’t keep up with the devastating damage that had completely encompassed the ship. It blanketed it, smothering it in waves of unrelenting damage. With every pulse, the large ship gradually dissolved from metallic greys to dull, transparent grey, and finally to light-grey dust. The silhouette of the Borg Cube could still be seen; a faint, distorted shadow of what it once was.

The destruction of the Borg Cube echoed throughout the entire Hive, and the Borg began to understand what all the other races felt in their presence…. FEAR.

This invading fortress of a ship was not a newcomer to the Galaxy, but it had been almost 400 years since it had last been here. The race was known as the Veiled, and they were back. They don’t assimilate. They exterminate.

To understand the Veiled, it is necessary to go back to the early 21st Century, and to discover how one human traveled to the stars decades before the discovery of warp technology.

Download the free novel:
XIN: The Veiled Genocides
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/270200

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SPAM Will Get You Blocked

I usually check the site everyday to see if anyone/thing made it through the spam filter. This week, one post made it through. I did not find it till today. All should be good now.

Thanks to everyone for continuing to visit the site. Here is to our 17th year on the web!

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