From: mcmelmon@aruba.apple.com (Matthew Melmon)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.anime
Subject: Five Star Trek - 18 (final)
Date: 15 Sep 92 22:26:27 GMT
Organization: Apple Computer, Inc.

Five Star Trek - 18

   Last lines - Part 17:


   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!


Part 18:


>Space.  

   The Grand Adas.  An explosion of brilliant energy at it's bow.  A 
   giant fireball, from which extends are spiraling beam, of 
   intertwining, multi-colored threads.  People with active imaginations 
   would see snaking dragons, everyone else:  just fire. They streak 
   towards the Zentradi fleet, even as the Zentradi ships begin to 
   separate.  Many of the smaller vessels disintegrate despite not being 
   in the beam.  Despite their size, even the larger ships are dwarfed
   by the maelstrom, many destroyed.



>Bretai's command chamber

   Blinding light emanates from the arrayed monitors.  Debris flies 
   through the air as the ship rattles.  Even so, the powerful commander 
   keeps his composure.  He grasps a steel rail.  The rail bends under 
   it's strength.


   Bretai:  Return fire!  All ships, return fire!

   
   The Zentradi guns respond to the Grand Adas even as the initial blast
   subsides.  Ships on the fringe of the fleet scatter.  A cloud of 
   BattleSuits advances, lead by several human piloted Mortarr Heads, 
   including Piria and the Zegund.

>Grand Adas

   Aisha:  Zentradi status!

   Crew:  Calculating...  Two carriers...

   Crew:  Including Bretai's command vessel, three battleships...

   Crew:  Eight heavy cruisers, eleven cruisers.

   Crew:  BattleSuit count indeterminate at this time.  All known Boorey 
   Headliners accounted for and approaching.


   Aisha nods.


   Aisha:  MBring ship to full broadside.  Ready main guns.

   Crew:  Incoming fire!

>Space.

   The Zentradi guns strike home, but everywhere they hit, a disk of 
   radiant energy flares up, appearing to absorb the entire blow.  Some 
   shots hit the brilliant sails, dispersing along them - absorbed.

>Knight of Gold

   Interior.  Dark, dim.  Lavender and redish light.  Poseidal's eyes 
   are closed.  The open slowly.  His oddly colored eyes - one blue, on 
   gold - flare with inuman light.  His delicate features, too perfect 
   to be human, appear momentarily demonic.  Above, in the Head, 
   Atrophos undergoes a similar mutation.  The Knight of Gold flares to 
   life, a lightning-like bolt transforming into a wicked scythe.


   Poseidal:  Mirage Knights!  To me!


   The Knight of Gold cuts several swaths of space with it's scythe as 
   we pan back.  All around it, spheres of light expand, then contract.  
   In their place - other Mortarr Heads, including Rogner.  All wear the 
   red cross of Poseidal.


>A subterranean, super-dimensional-type bunker.  Massive steel support
columns, glittering monitors, uniformed peoples.  Lynn and Kyle, seated
at a table, look up at a monitor.

   Lynn:  It's a little less immediate, being here in this bunker and
   not in a spaceship - the threat of death...

   Kyle:  No less immediate.  The bombs that shattered the Betazed fault
   lines could easily reach us.

   Lynn:  You think some will get through?

   Kyle:  Some will get through.  And a lot depends on our alien 
   'protectors.'

   Lynn:  You don't trust them?

   Kyle:  No.

   Lynn:  It's still less immediate.  And I have faith.

   Kyle:  Faith in Star Fleet?

   Lynn:  In Star Fleet, and just in general.  

   Kyle:  What is it that you have faith will happen?

   Lynn:  I have faith that...

   Kyle:  Yes?

   Lynn:  We will win.

>Space.  High Earth Orbit.  The orbital space station is engaging them 
with it's heavier phaser weaponry.  The beams are potent enough to cut 
through the cruisers' armor.  The station, however, being stationary, 
is very vulnerable to the Zentradi heavy guns - and is suffering 
terrible punishment.

Many, many Federation ships have also engaged the Zentradi - many more 
than were at Betazed.  They keep further back this time, primarily
directing photon torpedos towards the cruisers and using phasers to 
destroy missile weapons launched at the planet.



>Bretai's command chamber.

   Exedore:  We have closed with the Grand Adas.  The Grzz and Ur have 
   likewise closed.  We are having some effect, but cannot withstand her 
   superior firepower for long.

   Bretai:  We need withstand it only for long enough...  What is the 
   condition of the planet?

   Exedore:  Our missile weapons are not getting through.  The aliens 
   are using both their ships and specialized, atmospheric defenses 
   against them.  No gamalon devices have been detonated.  Smaller 
   missiles have gotten through - no more than fifty megatons.

   Bretai:  Then we must use weapons that cannot be intercepted.  Order 
   all cruisers to fire capital guns on targets determined to be most 
   damaging to the biosphere.  Ignore alien military marks.

   Exedore:  Commander, the planet is highly industrialized.  If we 
   target major production centers...

   Bretai:  The side effects of the attack could cause even more severe 
   damage to the biosphere...  Excellent.  See that your suggestion is 
   implemented.

   Exedore:  Yes, commander.


>Space.  Close in on the Knight of Gold.  A swarm of Zentradi 
BattleSuits surround Poseidal.  By the red glint in the Knight of Gold's 
eyes, we see that this is the prefered state of affairs for both pilot 
and piloted.  Inside, Poseidal no longer appears himself.  He has almost 
completely transformed into a demonic being - raging hair, burning eyes, 
unearthly beauty.  Atrophos, too, has lost all semblance of a little 
girl.  She has become nearly indistinguishable from Poseidal.

The Knight of Gold rips into a BattleSuit with his hands.  For a moment, 
the gleaming metal is covered by gore.  Under the flames, it slowly 
disolves.  As the Zentradi crumples and vanishes, he his replaced by a 
garish Mortarr Headd.  The Knight of Gold assumes a more cautious - but 
still confident - stance.

   Poseidal:  Ah, the Lord of the Boorey.  Your creations have done 
well.  I am most impressed.  But has the master become the toy.

   Lord:  The Zentradi do as I command.

   Poseidal:  Bretai still gives you the luxury of that illusion?

   Lord:  It is no illusion.

   Poseidal:  Perhaps.  But neither am I.

The Knight of Gold hurls itself towards the Boorey knight.  A vicious 
exchange of blows takes place.  The Knight of Gold crouches, the Boorey 
rushes in.  The scythe rips upward.  The Boorey is caught.  Cleaved.

   Poseidal:  Neither am I...



>Bretai's command chamber

   Bretai:  Are we near enough?

   Exedore:  Our vessel and the Ur are in position.  Damage to the Grzz 
   has been severe enough to impede them...

   Bretai:  They must make it!

   Exedore:  By my estimation, they will be in position within three 
   minutes.



>Grand Adas.  Aisha sits in Poseidal's command chair.  The entire battle 
dances about her in brilliant, holographic detail.  Her eyes fallow the 
dazzling dance without confusion.

   Aisha [musing]:  What are you up to, Bretai?  Putting yourself so 
   close to our guns.  You can't last...

Aisha leaps up.

   Aisha:  Time slip!  Now!

   Crew:  But our bio-relation reserves...

   Aisha:  Now!

>Bretai's command chamber

   Excedore:  The Grzz has positioned itself...

   Bretai:  Status of the Gamalon devices?

   Exedore:  All four have been positioned along our primary generator 
   coils.  Timing systems fully operational.  Propulsion units, awaiting 
   pulse signal.

   Bretai:  Detonate


>Space.  The three Zentradi super-carriers surrounding the Grand Adas
explode in an infernal cataclysm.  The crest of the explosion expands
rapidly, burning through space.  The combat is engulfed.  The flames
reach into the atmosphere of Earth and scar the surface.

In a Kamikaze dive, the carriers on the planet's far side turn away from 
the federation ships and head for the planet.  They are fired on 
fiercely, but to little avail.  The crash, sending up mighty explosions 
of their own.  

And then, silence.




Enterprise bridge.  Shock.



Riker:  Is it over?  All of the aliens - including Poseidal - gone?

Picard:  That would seem awfully convenient...

Worf:  Preliminary sensor readings indicate all alien ships - gone.

Data:  The strength of the explosion was truly monumental, Captain.
Much of the matter caught within it's immediate vicinity has been
reduced to stray sub-atomic particles - many of which have decayed.
It is very difficult to estimate whether or not the remaining mass
and energy accounts for all ships present...

Worf:  Energy fluctuations being detected.  High Earth Orbit.

Picard:  Yes.  That's more like it...

Riker:  Some kind of trick?

Picard:  Who knows?  How severe was the planetary impact?

Data:  Very severe, Captain.  No casualty estimates at this time.

Worf:  Small craft appearing.  The Mortarr Heads, Captain.

Picard:  Poseidal?

Worf:  One matches the characteristics of Poseidal's golden knight.

Riker:  Some form of teleportation?

Data:  More likely, a temporal displacement.

Picard:  And the Grand Adas?

Data:  Controled temporal displacements require nearly immeasurable 
supplies of energy.  Perhaps the Grand Adas has generated sufficient 
energy to both power it's giant canon and perform some manner of 
temmporal displacement - but I am doubtful.  

Riker:  But the Mortarr Heads?

Data:  Smaller masses require less energy, but I again it seems unlikely 
the known power generations capabilities of those craft could support 
such an operation.

Picard:  Yet they did.

Data:  So it would appear.

Picard:  And so could the Grand Adas...

Worf:  Much larger energy fluctuations appearing, Captain...

Riker:  Right on cue.

Worf:  The Grand Adas.  Poseidal is hailing us.

Picard:  Onscreen.

Poseidal:  Well, Captain Picard - and people of Earth - the battle is 
done.  

Picard:  Is it?



Poseidal does not get to answer.  A blinding flash fills the interior of 
the Knight of Gold's control chamber.  Cut back to space.  A white 
fireball fades, in it's place - a gleaming white Mortarr Head.  Whiter 
than arctic snow, glowing with it's own light.

The Junchoon.  Piloted by Atrophos sister, Clotho.



Clotho:  It is done, Great Poseidal.  You shall not have this world.  As 
Fates Fatima Clotho, bond-mate of Colus III and headliner of the 
Junchoon, I challenge you, Great Poseidal.  By our Code, you must 
accept.



The remaining mirage knights circle about the newcomer and their leader.  
Rogner moves forward.



Rogner:  No, Clotho.  You are not a headliner.  You cannot claim the 
Code.

Clotho:  I am Fates Fatima Clotho.  I claim the rights of a headliner.

Rogner:  Even as one of the Fates Fatima, you do not have the right.  
And even as Headliner, only a King of Queen may challenge Poseidal 
directly.  Before your challenge, you must first fight the Mirage.  And 
you cannot win, Clotho.  Even you.

Clotho:  No?

Aisha [remotely]:  No, Clotho.  Even the Sleeping Witch cannot stand 
against all of the Mirage.  But there is another way.  I am a Queen.  
And I am Regent - by appointment of Poseidal himself - to the world of 
Colus.  I have no heir, and as is might right, I give that title to you.

Mirage Knight:  Preposterous!

Aisha:  It is my right, and as Mirage Knight One, none may challenge it 
save Poseidal himself.  What say Poseidal?



Long silence.



Poseidal:  Captain Picard?

Picard [remotely]:  Yes?

Poseidal:  Captain Picard, could you transport my Fatima to your ship 
using that strange device of yours.

Picard:  Not through your the energy fluctuations you are currently 
generating.

Poseidal:  I shall cease generating them.  But Captain, no tricks.  
Things should go very badly for you were you to try and trick me.

Atrophos:  My Lord!  There is no need!  I will not dishonor you.  You 
have my allegiance, unquestioned and undying...

Poseidal:  I cannot ask you to kill your own sister, dear Atrophos...  
Are you ready, Captain?

Picard:  Yes.

Poseidal:  Do so.



Atrophos is beamed abaord the Enterprise.  We follow her.  She appears 
on the platform and is met by a group of security officers.  She rushes 
from the platform into the corridor.  They rush after her, eventually 
catching up.  They redirect her frantic pace towards the bridge.

As soon as the turbo-lift doors open, she rushes in - catching Picard 
half-rising from his chair.  On screen, the Junchoon and the Knight of 
Gold face each other tensely.  The Mirage Knights have backed away.

Atrophos freezes.  For several moments, she is silent.

The makes a small laugh.



Atrophos:  I have lived many thousands of years, Captain.  Served many 
Lords before Poseidal.  Helped raise their children.  Teach them the 
ways of a headliner.  Do you know what one of the arguments young 
children in our aristocratic houses often have?  Of course not.  How 
could you...  They argument about who would win:  the Sleeping Witch in 
the Junchoon, or Great Poseidal in the Knight of Gold.  They get very 
excited about it, children do.  And it used to be so silly.  Everyone 
knew the Sleeping Witch wouldn't awaken...




Onscreen, the Clotho launches herself at Poseidal.  Atrophos continues 
talking, as if nothing were happening.  She is trying to put the battle 
out of her mind.



Atrophos: ...Everyone knew that Great Poseidal and the Knight of Gold 
couldn't be defeated.

Picard:  Why are they fighting?

Atrophos:  Clotho means to save your world, Captain.  She believes she 
was created to stop Poseidal.

Data:  The same creators as the Zentradi?

Atrophos:  Oh, no.  But I suppose, the purpose is the same.  An 
artificial being meant to stop Poseidal.  

Picard:  Can she?

Atrophos:  I don't know.

Picard:  Save our world?  Save it from what?

Atrophos:  To return to our home, Poseidal must generate an awesome 
amount of bio-relation energy.  To do this, he needs a world with a very 
advanced biosphere and some special harmony with the bio-relation pool.  
Such worlds are very, very rare, Captain.  Poseidal's homeworld - 
Gustogol - was, and is, the most harmonic of worlds that has ever been 
found.  But these world of yours - it will do.

Riker:  Do?

Atrophos:  Yes.  It can generate the requisite energy.  Very few can 
control such power.  Perhaps only Poseidal and Clotho.  Lachesis could, 
but she is gone...  Perhaps I could - but I would never try.  There are 
no others.

Riker:  And after the energy was generated?

Atrophos:  Much of it would be consumed powering the Transference 
between galaxies.  The resulting shock would devastate your world.  It 
would not be destroyed - not like the worlds attacked by the Zentradi - 
but the shock would kill many, many beings.  Clotho means to prevent 
that.

Worf:  Perhaps we should help her.

Atrophos:  That would not be wise.  The Mirage Knights would destroy 
your world as surely as the Zentradi in retribution.

Picard:  Well, at least we can root her on...



Onscreen, the battle continues.  Atrophos sinks into herself, not 
watching.



Atrophos [silent thoughts]:  Oh, Sister!  Can you hear me?  Lachesis!  
Please, you must help me!  What am I to do?  



A vision appears on the screen.  It is obvious only Atrophos sees it.  
It is of a beautiful woman.  Tall and regal.  Her hair is long and 
lavender, like Poseidal.  Her eyes, like his, are one gold, one blue.  A 
diadem hangs on her forhead.



Atrophos:  Lachesis!  You heard!

Lachesis:  Of course, dearest sister.  Of course.

Atrophos:  I'm so afraid...

Lachesis:  I understand, dear sister.  But I cannot give you the answer.

Atrophos:  You must!  Oh, Lachesis, please!  Please help me!

Lachesis:  You, too, are of the Fates Fatima, Atrophos.  You, too, have 
the answers.  You need only look.  Look, dear sister, and you shall find 
the truth of what you must do.



Atrophos is silent for a long while.  The image of Lachesis fades.  
Behind, the battle rages.  The Knight of Gold crouches, the Junchoon 
holds a more aggressive stance.  Slowly, the Knight of Gold extends an 
arm, opening the fingers.  The scyth slowly disolves.  

The Junchoon charges.



Atrophos [crying]:  I see...



The Knight of Gold reaches up with it's hand.




Atrophos [crying harder]:  I see!  I see!



The Junchoon brings it's sword down, aiming for the Knight of Gold's 
head.  The Knight of Gold reaches up with it's hand, grabbing one of the 
Junchoon's arms.  The force of momentum carries the Knight of Gold 
throw, tearing the arm from it's socket.  The Junchoon keeps hold of 
it's sword, but tumbles away, end over end.  Far below, the blue eye of 
Earth watches impassively.

The Knight of Gold releases the arm.  Slowly, the scythe reappears.



Atrophos [whisper]:  Knight of Gold...



The Knight of Gold turns towards the still tumbling Junchoon.



Atrophos [whisper]:  Knight of Gold, it's Atrophos...



The Junchoon stops tumbling.  It rights itself and readies it's glowing 
sword.  The Knight of Gold slowly advances.



Atrophos:  Knight of Gold, hear me.  Please.  Hear me.  This is what we 
must do...



The Knight of Gold raises the scythe high.  The Junchoon crouches this 
time, blade held low.  The Knight of Gold starts to bring the sythe 
down, then stops...

Inside, Poseidal appears shocked.  Then, a gentle smile.



Poseidal:  Atrophos...  Dear Atrophos, at last, you do as you were made 
to do...



The Junchoon lurches upward, it's blade cutting deep into the Knight of 
Gold.  There is an explosion of pale flames - and then nothing.  The 
Knight of Gold is gone.  Poseidal is gone.  

On the Enterprise bridge, Atrophos collapses in exhaustion.



Atrophos [telepathic]:  Sister, this is what you must do.



For several moments, the Mirage stand in shock.  Rogner steps forward.  
He salutes Clotho.  The others follow suit.  The Mirage vanish, 
teleporting back into the Grand Adas.

The Enterprise crew tries to revive Atrophos, but she does not respond.  
As they do so, the screen is washed by a brilliant flash.



Worf:  Captain, the Grand Adas is gone.

Picard:  The Earth!  The Earth!  Damage?

Data:  No apparent trama to the planet...

Atrophos:  She did not move the ship through space, Captain.  Only time.

Picard:  I don't understand.

Atrophos:  It is rare for a world to possess the ability to support the 
bio-relation pool.  But possessing it, it must be realized the 
possession occurs for all time, so long as the world supports life.

Picard:  They've gone to rob some future Earth?

Atrophos:  Not rob.  And not future.  They have gone into the past.  
Many millions of years.  Their future, your present.  All in the past.

Riker:  What?

Picard:  Millions of years?  The mass extinctions...?

Riker:  Of the dinosaurs?

Atrophos:  Millions of years.  Your past.  Their future.  And your 
present, too, Captain.  Your present, too.

Picard:  And what of you?

Atrophos:  I shall stay here, with the ghost of my lord.



Space.

The blue Earth.  We pull slowly away.  The sun dawns over a horizon.  We 
continue to pull away.  The sun separates - becomes a distinct sphere of 
it's own.  Further and further apart.

One blue orb, one golden.

The faint outline of Poseidal, his eyes.

His laughter.



The End