From: mcmelmon@aruba.apple.com (Matthew Melmon)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: Five Star Trek - 17
Date: 10 Sep 92 18:25:15 GMT
Organization: Apple Computer, Inc.


A Thousand Apologies for having taken so long.  Some sinister demon
possessed
me to take a joy ride through soc.motss, generating all manner of hateful,
nasty press.  You should try it sometime.  Making enemies can be a lot of
fun, taken in moderation.  But, enough of that.  Only two installments
left,
this being one of them.  I shall post episodes 11-18 (when 18 is finished)
as one big clump in a while, though that might be a bit of a problem in 
terms of length.  The entire series will be over a hundred pages (normal,
8.5 x 11 pages) long, so dumping the whole thing could be a problem for
some newsreaders (not to mention net traffic).  

Anway, enough blab.



Five Star Trek - 17

   Last lines - Part 16:


   Even as Piria gloats over the cowardice of her foe, the torpedo    
   strikes the nacelle.  A cataclysmic explosion ensues.  Piria's    
   mortar head becomes a silhouette against it's brilliance.  
   Milliseconds before the explosion engulf's it, the Zegund vanishes in 
   a brilliant sphere of light.

   The explosion passes.

   The Zegund reappears.  All that remains of Azonia's carrier is the 
   top of it's burned out hull.  The Zegund approaches.



   Piria:  A well-placed time slip, Hermes...  Can you reach the fleet?

   Hermes [her Fatima, remotely]:  Yes, Mistress.

   Piria:  Excellent.



   Another flare, and the Zegund vanishes.


Part 17:



Poseidal's command chamber.  The general sits on his throne, resplendent
in his satin robes of a myriad hues.  Atrophos hovers nearby, her head
slightly bowed.  Aisha approaches down the long catwalk.  The chatter of
the Grand Adas bridgecrew buzzes constantly in the background.



Poseidal:  Have the Earth forces been fully briefed?

Aisha:  They have, Great Poseidal.

Poseidal:  Their reaction to our casualty estimates?

Aisha:  Those, Great Poseidal, I did not convey.

Poseidal:  Why is that?

Aisha:  I did not feel they would take the news well.

Poseidal:  No.  Most likely, they wouldn't have believed you, anyway.  
The orbiting space station.  It has been reduced to a minimal crew?

Aisha:  The need to do so was communicated.  I do not know if they have 
acted on our suggestion.

Poseidal:  And you don't care?

Aisha:  I do not.



Poseidal rises.



Poseidal:  No.  I would not have expected you to.

Atrophos:  Captain Picard has been trying to contact you, My Lord, for 
the last week.  You have refused to talk to him.  The Enterprise has 
been in dock all that time.  You refuse to see him.  Why is that?

Poseidal:  Picard is a difficult man to talk to.

Atrophos:  It is not the man, it is what you refuse to tell him.

Poseidal:  It is more complicated than you would like it to be, dear 
Atrophos.  I cannot tell him.

Atrophos:  Explain to me why you cannot.

Aisha:  You overstep yourself, Atrophos.  Even as one of the Fates 
Fatima.

Atrophos:  I am sorry, Lady Aisha, but I do not think so.  Explain to 
me, Great Poseidal, why you cannot tell Captain Picard about the bio-
relation pool.  About our Tranference home.  About the shock it will 
deal to the world of his birth.

Poseidal:  They must fight, Atrophos.  Fight with single determination.  
We alone are a match for the Zentradi fleet, were it only ourselves we 
were fighting for.  But we are not just ourselves.  We must keep this 
world from harm. Bretai knows I mean to use the bio-relation pool to 
return to Gustogol.  He will try and destroy this world.  To damage it 
beyond a condition which may sustain the bio-relation pool.  If he 
succeeds, we will be trapped. We shall need the Federation's best
effort.

Atrophos:  They are without choice.  If they do not help us, the 
Zentradi will completely destroy this world - as they did the other two.  
If they do help us, the world will survive.  They deserve to know the
truth.

Poseidal:  Focus, Atrophos.  They must be focused.  

Atrophos:  You have never learned, Great Poseidal, to trust in the 
determination of others.  Beyond your Mirage Knights, you see only 
faceless, untrustworthy strangers.  That is a sad life.

Poseidal:  But I am Poseidal, and it is my way.



A room.  Very large.  Furnished in an obviously expensive manner.  
Ancient antiques.  Chinese antiques.  Lynn Ming, wearing a priceless 
silk gown - bold with dragons and phoenixes of gold - stretches  herself 
across a soft, bed-like couch.  Wesley stands, uneasily, by a window, 
looking out.



Lynn:  The war isn't over, is it?

Wesley:  No.

Lynn:  More death...  And you will be at your station?

Wesley:  Yes.

Lynn:  And this time, failure means the end of our world?

Wesley:  Yes.

Lynn:  It will be exciting, then, to wait down here - blind to the 
goings on in space.  Wait.  Wait for the end.  Or not the end.  And how 
will we know that it is over, and we have won?  Not until you come back.  
Just horrible waiting.  You will know, one way or the other, the instant 
the battle is won or lost.  But here, I can only wait for death; or keep 
on waiting and, not having died, still not know if soon I will die, or 
if soon, you'll come back and the war will be over.  Do you know what 
would be even worse than to die, though?  Wesley?  Worse than dying 
would be to live, and know that you have died.

Wesley:  Many things are worse than dying.  Mine.  Or... or even yours.  
Worse would be for us all to die.  For this world to become like...  
Like others.  That would be worse than 'just' dying.

Lynn:  You're right...  But I still don't want you to die.



Kyle enters.  He nods to Wesley, who nods back.



Kyle:  They're here.



Lynn sighs heavily.



Lynn:  I guess you'll have to go, now, Wesley...  It's time for my own 
little war.  Time for the lights to shine and the cameras to roll, and 
for me to relate how breatheless I was - standing on the bridge of the 
Enterprise watching the blackness of space turn to fire and light and 
death.  Good bye, Wesley.

Wesley:  Good bye.



Kyle leads Wesley out.  Lynn watches them go.  She wipes a little tear 
from under her eye, then assumes the regal manner of a princess from a 
long-lost age.




One of the Enterprise science labs.  Data stands before a projection, 
one which appears an image of Earth.  A lot of really nifty lines and 
patches of color swirl all over the place.



Data:  

Using data collected by Federation observation centers, both on the 
surface and in orbit, I have constructed the following model of the 
unusual energy fluctuations between Earth and the Grand Adas.  The color 
red indicates fields of energy, they nature of which remains a mystery 
to us. 

Upon arrival the arrival of the Grand Adas, no such fields are visible.  
You will note, however, that the Grand Adas itself begins generating 
detectable quantities within a day of arrival.  It appears to be 
transfering some manner of energy to the planet.  This transferal 
continues for several days.

[the screen displays a funnel-like projection of hazy red - almost a 
tornado - with the broad end encompassing the Grand Adas and the narrow 
point dancing about in the Earth's upper atmosphere]

Then, abruptly, the funnel reverses.  The Grand Adas appears to be 
harvesting some manner of energy from the Earth - after having seeded 
the planet with that same energy.

Picard:  Harm to the planet?

Data:  None that I can detect.  If anything, it appears to be 
stimulating the growth of micro-organisms in all of Earth's oceans.

Riker:  I doubt there are no strings attatched to this 'gift.'



Picard nods.  


Picard:  But what can we do?  Can this energy be blocked?

Data:  Difficult to say, Captain.  I do not believe we are detecting the 
actual source, but rather the symptomatic radiations.  At this time, we 
cannot block it; as to the future...

Picard:  As to the future, we may not have one.  This is a fascinating 
development, Data.  But I am afraid it must take a second seat to the 
immediate situation:  that being, the imminent arrival of a fleet bent 
on our complete desctruction.



Bretai's command chamber.



Bretai:  Exedore, what is the state of the fleet?

Exedore:  All ships, battle ready, Supreme Commander.

Bretai:  The BattleSuits and Mortarr Heads have deployed themselves 
along our hulls?

Exedore:  They have.

Bretai:  Excellent.  What of the aliens?

Exedore:  Long range intelligence indicates very few alien ships massed 
near the Grand Adas.  They appear to be preparing a perimeter defense of 
of the planet's far side.

Bretai:  Poseidal means to protect his jewel from harm.  He has 
correctly deduced he cannot achieve this goal of his own means.  It is 
unfortunate this region of space had to be occupied by an intelligent 
life form. 



Poseidal's command chamber.



A misty holograph appears before Poseidal.  The form is of a thin woman,
with large, hazy eyes.



Woman:  Fatima Bio-Web reporting.  Zentradi fleet sighted and tracked.

Poseidal:  Acknowledged.  Aisha, assemble the Mirage.



Enterprise bridge.



Worf:  Captain, long-range intelligence estimates four hours until 
contact with alien fleet.  It's composition has remained constant: three
carriers like the one encountered above Betazed.  Seven slightly 
smaller, denser vessels - battleships, perhaps.  Eighteen heavy cruisers
and twenty-one cruisers.

Riker:  I hope the Grand Adas is as potent as Poseidal says...

Picard:  So do I.  But then, what will we be leaping out of the frying 
pan into?

Data:  The fire, Captain?

Picard:  Excellent, Data.  

Worf:  Captain, a localized sub-space disturbance.  The pattern matches
that of Poseidal's "Mortarr Head".

Riker:  He's coming out to play?




Space.  High above Earth.  The Knight of Gold appears, brilliantly 
silhouetted against the blue sphere.  Lot's of nifty, anime-like close
in shots of the hands opening, the eyes gleaming, yellow flames rolling 
across the armor, etc.



Poseidal:  Greetings, Captain Picard.  So here we are, high above the 
Third World.  What is it's name?

Picard:  Earth.

Poseidal:  Here we are, high above Earth.  The Zentradi are very near.  
It is time to take your ship to the planet's far side.

Picard:  We have time.  Time for a few answers.  What...?

Poseidal:  No, Captain Picard.  There is no time.


Rapid changes of scene:

>Bretai's command chamber.
   
   Bretai:  Effect the transfer.

>Grand Adas bridge

   Aisha:  Begin initialization sequence for primary weapon.

   Crew:  Primary weapon sequence engaged.  Ez-laser turbines, currently 
          one-hundred percent.

>Space.  The Knight of Gold.

   Poseidal:  You must move your ship now, Captain.  The Zentradi mean 
   to attack immediately.

   Picard:  I don't trust you, Poseidal.

   Poseidal:  You have no choice.

>Grand Adas bridge

   Appearing Holo:  Fatima Bio-Web reporting.  Zentradi fleet has 
   pulsed bio-relation reserves.

   Aisha:  De-activate Point Defense system.

   Crew:  Point defense de-activated.  Ez-laser turbine feed-back loop 
   increased.  Turbines currently at seven-hundred percent.

>Enterprise bridge

   Data:  Captain, the Grand Adas has begun to emit considerable levels 
   of secondary radiation.  I believe I can map her interior power 
   generation architecture, now.

   Picard:  Do so.

   
   [A secondary screen shows a wire-frame of the Grand Adas.  A network 
   of vaguely biological shapes - almost a circulatory system - begins 
   to solidify within the wires.]

   Picard:  Capacity?

   Data:  For all intents and purposes, Captain, the Grand Adas appears 
   capable of producing power of unlimited intensity.  Our estimates  
   would be meaningless.

>Grand Adas

   Crew:  Ez-laser turbines, currently one-thousand, four-hundred 
   percent...

   Aisha:  Retract primary inhibitor.

   Crew:  Retracting.

   [Space.  The Grand Adas, floating gracefully - a beautiful, poisonous 
   fish.  At the tip, a coalescing blob of energy.]

>Enterprise bridge.

   Worf:  Captain, we have lost the alien fleet!

   Data:  Captain, the Grand Adas has currently generated and stored 
   enough power - if they wished to crack the planet, I believe the 
   could...

>The Knight of Gold

   Poseidal:  Picard, in seconds the space you are in will become a 
   maelstrom of fire and death.  Move your ship now, or you will be 
   destroyed.  Such is war.

   [The Knight of Gold begins to move through the forms of a mystic 
   kata.  A dull red glow surrounds the burnished armor.  It leaps into 
   space, answered by another bolt from the planet below.  Crystalizing 
   in the void, a glowing, red symbol.  The cross of the Knights 
   Mirage.]

>Enterprise bridge.

   Riker:  Well, Captain? 

   Picard:  Move us into position.  All possible haste.

   [Space.  The Enterprise warps away]

>Grand Adas

   Crew:  Ez-laser turbines at two-thousand, eight-hundred percent.

   Aisha:  Re-activate Point Defense.

   Crew:  Activated.

   Fatima Bio-Web:  Zentradi fleet completing transference.  Predicted 
   point of arrival margin of error - minor signifance.  Corrected 
   position, calculating...  Displayed.

   Aisha:  Re-align!

   Crew:  Ship rotating...  

   Crew:  Zentradi vessels materializing...

   Crew:  Rotation complete.  Zentradi fleet breaking up...

   Aisha:  Fire!