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Path: moe.ksu.ksu.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!cs.utexas.edu!uunet!meaddata!gordon
From: gordon@meaddata.com (Gordon Edwards)
Subject: Repost: Home Is Where The Heart Is
Sender: news@meaddata.com (Usenet Administrator)
Organization: Mead Data Central, Dayton OH
Date: Mon, 11 May 1992 11:36:05 GMT
Message-ID: <1992May11.113605.23144@meaddata.com>
Lines: 3389
Story: "Home Is Where The Heart Is"
Author: andres@cbnewsj.cb.att.com (Andy C)
Home Is Where The Heart Is
A
Star Trek: The Next Generation
Novel
Written By
Andres Castineiras
Theme:
Data falls in love with a beautiful Enterprise scientist as
Commander Riker, in temporary command of the Enterprise,
faces the ultimate test of the Prime Directive - whether or
not to try to save a planet from nuclear holocaust!
The following manuscript is based on characters
created by Gene Roddenberry and copyright by
Paramount Pictures Corporation. No infringement
of that copyright is intended. The story idea in
this manuscript is Copyright (c) 1989 by Andres
Castineiras and may not be reproduced in any form
without the prior written consent of the author.
FOREWORD
The action in this novel takes place about half way through
the second season of Star Trek: The Next Generation, shortly
after the episode The Dauphin and before the episode
Contagion. Up to this point the episodes dealt almost
exclusively with diplomatic missions and visits to
starbases, thus Captain Picard's attitude in the open scenes
of this novel. After this point the episodes dealt more
with actual exploration.
This novel deals with one of the most interesting dilemmas
of the Star Trek Universe, application of the Prime
Directive to a warring planet. I hope you enjoy it.
PROLOGUE
Home, that was the one word on his mind. To him it
represented both the concept and the name of his planet. He
had been away from her for far too long. His name
translated roughly into Federation standard as John
Wigginson, his rank as Major. He alone commanded the vessel
Cycler 1 from the planet Gamma Synchnaurus III, a planet his
people referred to as Home. Major Wigginson was on his
third continuous tour of duty aboard Cycler 1, and he was
becoming weary.
Wigginson, and his people, were what Federation scientists
would call "quite humanoid". There were some details of
internal arrangement that differed from those of the natives
of planet Earth, but they were all minor. Wigginson himself
was a middle aged man, about five feet, nine inches tall,
with a receding and graying hairline. His race had just
begun to move out to the neighboring planets of their system
and he was there at the beginning. He had seen it all, from
first sub-orbital flights to the first steps on each of the
Homesian moons, to the establishment of a permanent orbiting
space station. In fact, Wigginson had contributed to a
great deal of that early history, first as an astronaut and
then as a member of the Space Command and most recently as
an officer in the Space Force of his country, Comoris.
Due, in part, to his own lobbying efforts, and considerable
pull in the space program, a base had been established on
the fourth planet of their system, Quarta. The base was
staffed with personnel from all the space-faring nations of
Home. It was the one and only collaborative effort they had
all made in space.
Wigginson's thoughts suddenly shifted to the cabin around
him. He had spent countless days within these walls, walls
of stark utilitarian design, not an inch of space wasted.
The walls were studded with equipment lockers and velcro
hooks to attach items that might float away under freefall
conditions. The sole luxury was a single small viewport
overlooking the grandeur of space.
The Cycler represented the state-of-the-art in Homesian
technology. Wigginson had originated the Cycler idea
himself. Little did he know that it had already been
invented by an Earth scientist some three hundred years in
the past and re-discovered in countless other star systems
since then. The concept was simple and elegant. Start a
ship going in a proper orbit between two planets and, with
minimal corrections, it would continue to cycle between
those two planets indefinitely. Cycler 1 was five weeks out
from Quarta base on a two month trip back to Home. It was
one of a kind, no other Cyclers had been built, and probably
never would be.
Wigginson sat at his desk, held there by the one half
gravity afforded by the rotating mass of the Cycler crew and
passenger module, reading the latest reports from Homeside.
Although he was on loan to the international group that had
established Quarta base, Wigginson still held a commission
in the Space Force of Comoris. As such he was kept apprised
of relations with the other countries involved in the joint
venture, particularly those with the other major Homesian
superpower, Lucreacia. Tensions between Comorians and the
Lucs were rising rapidly.
Wigginson was both happy and not to be returning to the
planet of his birth, Home.
CAPTAIN Jean-Luc Picard was sitting in his command chair on
the bridge of the Galaxy class USS Enterprise calmly
entering his latest log entry.
"Captain's Log, Stardate 42581.2. What a pleasure it is
finally to be back on pure exploration duty. With so many
recent missions being diplomatic in nature, including our
recent voyage to Dalad IV, I feel as though the Enterprise
has been a glorified courier vessel. Between shuttling
diplomats and the seemingly endless re-fits and courtesy
visits to new Starbases and the like, we have been away from
our true mission far too long."
"We are currently enroute to the Synchnaurus Star Group on
the far end of known space. The third star in the group,
Gamma Synchnaurus, is a G2 star, not unlike Earth's own
Sun." Picard paused contemplating his next words before he
continued, "Based on electronic intelligence data gathered
over forty years ago by an automated scientific scout
vessel, we know that the third planet of that system is the
home to a race of humanoid beings. Our mission is to
perform a detailed survey of the system and its inhabitants.
Since this is a previously uncontacted race, the Prime
Directive is in full force. I look forward to the
challenge."
In the seat next to Picard, Commander William T. Riker,
first officer of the Enterprise, looked on his Captain with
a favorable gaze. Picard turned to Riker and smiled, "Well,
Number One, it seems we will get to do some real exploring
for a change."
"Yes, Sir," replied Riker, a patented grin on his bearded
face. "It will be a welcome one, Captain."
Lt. Worf, the Klingon Security Chief, stood behind Picard
and Riker at his duty station. The panel in front of him
could be programmed to display information about any of the
varied systems of the Enterprise. Its default setting
monitored the various defensive and offensive systems and
the communications of the mighty vessel. He was looking at
the comm panel when an indication appeared.
"Incoming communication from Star Fleet Command, Captain,"
he announced. "It's coded for the Captain, First Officer
and Security Officer's eyes only."
Picard and Riker exchanged a glance. "Very well, Mr. Worf,"
said Picard as he stood, "In my Ready Room, Gentlemen."
Picard led the way to his sanctuary just off the bridge of
the starship, Riker and Worf on his heels.
Once in the Ready Room Picard activated his personal
computer terminal, turning the screen to face towards the
assembled group. Picard spoke to the terminal, "Picard,
Jean-Luc, Captain, requesting access to and playback of
recent transmission from Star Fleet Command."
"Working," replied the computer in a pleasant and quite
normal female voice. The screen illuminated to show a
standard fleet title page that read as follows:
TO: PICARD, JEAN-LUC, CAPTAIN, GALAXY CLASS USS ENTERPRISE NCC-
1701D
FROM: WILLIAMS, CHARLES D., ADMIRAL, STAR FLEET CORP OF ENGINEERS.
STARDATE: 42581.2
RE: NEW ORDERS.
Picard and Riker exchanged a distressed look as they read
the last line of the title page. They had come so close to
an actual exploration mission to be stopped by even more
Star Fleet diversions.
The screen cleared and promptly displayed the image of an
older man in Star Fleet Admiral's uniform sitting behind the
proverbial desk. He had a full head of gray hair and a
pleasant look about him, dampening the Captain and First
Officer's spirits even further.
"That's trouble," Riker said immediately, "No Star Fleet
Admiral looks that happy unless he's going to throw you
curve." Picard frowned in reply.
The figure on screen began to speak, "Greetings Captain
Picard, I am Admiral Charles David Williams, Head of the
Star Fleet Corp of Engineers. You are hereby ordered to
proceed immediately to Star Base 142, orbiting Onizuka IV,
for an analysis and re-fit of your main weaponry systems.
Recent advances have led us to believe that photon torpedo
efficiency can be increased by ten percent with this re-fit.
Your vessel has been selected to field trial the
improvement. Acknowledge this transmission and alter your
flight plan as filed to comply. End of message."
The terminal screen faded to black. "Merde," was all that
Picard could think to say.
"Just like that," offered Riker.
"Yes, Number One, just like that," answered Picard as he
moved behind his desk and slid into his desk chair. "It
would seem that Star Fleet has other plans for us."
"There must be something we can do about this, can't it
wait?," Riker added.
Picard placed his hands together, his index fingers
extending upward cradling the bridge of his nose, his eyes
closed in concentration. Abruptly he looked up at the
waiting First Officer and Security Chief. "Perhaps there is
a way."
"How," asked Riker, "we can't very well defy a direct order
from a Star Fleet Admiral."
"Ah, but perhaps we can both comply and not comply,"
answered Picard.
Riker looked perplexed at this statement as he glanced from
Worf to Picard.
"Saucer separation," deduced Worf.
"Of course. One of us can command the Engineering Section
and the main weapons back to Star base, while the other
continues with the main saucer section to the Gamma
Snychnaurus system," elaborated Riker as he and Picard
exchanged a knowing glance. Riker knew how much Picard
wanted this exploration mission so he quickly added, "I'll
take the Engineering Section, Sir."
Picard thought for a moment and then his features took on a
characteristic form. Riker knew the look. Once Picard had
decided on a course of action that he could not be dissuaded
from he often had that particular look about him. Riker
knew not to argue with Picard's next statement.
"No, Number One," said Picard, "I'll take her back. The
order was to me, I am the Enterprise's Captain, I must go.
You will accompany me, Mr. Worf, as Security Chief you
should oversee any weapons re-fit."
"Aye, Sir," replied Worf.
Keeping his gaze on Riker, Picard spoke again to Worf,
"Dismissed, Lieutenant." Worf nodded, made a perfect about
face and exited the Ready Room.
"Well, that's it then," continued Picard after Worf had
exited. "We'll rendezvous with you again in approximately
five days, at these coordinates." Before Riker could
respond he quickly added, "Now, if you'll excuse me I have
some things to accomplish before we separate." Riker nodded
his compliance and left the room.
CHAPTER 1
Five hours later, Commander William T. Riker sat in the
command chair on the main bridge of the USS Enterprise
saucer section dictating his own log entry.
"Ship's log Stardate 42581.31, First Officer Reporting.
While the Captain and Security chief are off with the battle
section on Starbase 142 for a weapons re-fit, the saucer
section is more closely exploring the Gamma Synchnaurus
system. The area was first visited by a Federation vessel
over forty years ago, but a close survey of the intelligent
humanoid species on the third planet has never been
attempted. The last starship to visit here reported that
the inhabitants were in the beginnings of a nuclear and
space age. They had just begun to reach out to their two
small moons. The inhabitants of Gamma Synchnaurus III are
still considered too primitive to approach as a possible
addition to the Federation. While we are here to update the
survey we must be very careful, for we are fully bound by
the Prime Directive."
"We have positioned the Enterprise on the outskirts of the
GS system to complete our pre-approach scans and plan our
next move." Riker, his log entry completed, surveyed the
scene on the Enterprise bridge. Data, the android Lt.
Commander, was at the OPS console, Wesley Crusher, the young
acting Ensign, at the helm. Deanna Troi, the Ship's
Counselor, was at her station beside Riker, observing him
critically, yet tempered by affection. Geordie LaForge, the
ship's Chief Engineer, manned the Engineering Station. The
Security position, normally manned by Worf was now manned by
a young Black Ensign in gold Security uniform.
Satisfied that all was as it should be, Riker stood and
strolled forward towards the helm. He was delighted with
this chance to command at least part of the Enterprise. The
main screen showed a view of a large cratered moon
stationary below them. "Status, Ensign," said Riker.
"We are stationary, Sir," replied Wesley Crusher. "Holding
position over the largest moon of Gamma Synchnaurus VII.
The moon's bulk is between us and most of their space
looking instruments . . ."
"Most?" interrupted Riker, "Let's be absolutely sure we
can't be seen out here, that's very important, Ensign."
"Yes, Sir," replied Crusher.
Data, busy working his console at OPS, suddenly looked up at
Riker, "Sir, it is possible that we may have already been
scanned."
"What!" Riker gaze was now firmly on Data. He moved into
position directly behind the android to get a better look at
the information on the OPS panel.
Data was again busy pressing various contact points on the
console, "I am getting unusual readings on my sensor scans.
It appears that a metal object might have been within sensor
range just as we were maneuvering behind this moon. It may
have been a planetary probe, Commander. If it was
operating, and if it happened to be looking our way at the
proper time, then we may have been observed."
This comment brought Riker bolt upright and he immediately
turned to face the Geordie at the Engineering Station.
"Geordie, why didn't we detect that probe before it became a
danger to our mission?"
Geordie looked up from his own button pushing to reply,
"Commander, we were doing a regulation two pi steradian
solid angle pre-approach scan when we came across it. Right
after it came into our sensor beam we moved behind this
moon. These people have allot of hardware out here in the
outer solar system, Sir, there's nothing we could have
done." Geordie paused for a moment considering, then added,
"Maybe it was dead."
"Negative," Data interjected, "It seems to have been
registering some energy emissions when we encountered it."
Wesley Crusher sat and listened, a more and more worried
look emerging on his face. Finally he spoke, "Sorry, Sir, I
guess I didn't get us out of sight fast enough."
This comment seemed to break the tension in the room. Riker
turned back to Wesley, a large grin on his face, "An
apology? I don't remember asking you for an apology,
Ensign?"
"Sir?," asked Wesley, now more uncomfortable than ever.
Riker laughed, "Don't worry, Wes. Just something an old
role model of mine might have said." Riker turned, returned
to the command chair and sat down. "Besides, it wasn't your
fault. It's nobody's really. Geordie's right, there is
just too much space junk out here. Most of it much smaller
that a shuttle craft or one of our sensor probes for that
matter. In any case, let's keep a sharp eye out. Set
sensors for rapid scanning, I want the sky swept every
ninety seconds."
LaForge's hands flew over his console, silently carrying out
Riker's last command. A few moments later, Riker again
stood up in front of the command chair and from the middle
of the bridge surveyed his bridge crew. "Comments,
suggestions on how to proceed?," he said.
"Suggest we employ cloaking device, Sir," Data offered.
Riker turned to his Chief Engineer, "Geordie?"
Again LaForge paused to think, "Well, it's new and not
anywhere as good as the latest Romulan version, but it will
keep these people from seeing us. Of course it will take
allot of power, especially without the warp drive section.
We could maintain a cloak long enough to complete the survey
and get far enough away to de-cloak safely."
Riker again sat down at the command chair. His hand
absently stroked his beard as he was lost in thought. The
cloaking device was new to Federation starships. The
technology was Romulan, old style Romulan to be specific.
The cloaking system was originally brought into the
Federation by the first starship to bear the name
Enterprise, commanded by the legendary Captain James T.
Kirk. The device was analyzed for weakness by Federation
scientists and deemed inappropriate for use on Federation
starships.
That feeling had slowly changed in the years since that
time. The Federation was now equipping some ships with a
version of the same device that Kirk had appropriated from
the Romulans. It was only to be used only in certain
situations. It was not recommended for use in battle, it
was too easy to detect a ship so equipped with modern
sensors. It had far more disadvantages than advantages.
However, on an intelligence gathering mission or on an
exploration mission, such as the Enterprise was now on, it
could be used to advantage. "Very well," said Riker, "We'll
continue to Gamma Synchnaurus III under cloak. Mr. Data,
engage cloaking device."
[Note to the Editor: Use of the Cloaking device is not
central to the story line. A plausible story could be made
using Deflector Shields. However, it works better with the
cloak.]
"Aye, Sir," responded Data. After quickly depressing
several contact points on his console, Data announced,
"Cloak is engaged, Commander. All systems show green."
To an observer on the moon below them, the looming shape of
the USS Enterprise saucer section would have been seen to
shimmer, and then waiver and finally vanish. The ship was
now invisible to all but the most sophisticated sensing
devices.
Satisfied, Riker turned his attention to the helm, "Mr.
Crusher bring us about to heading 115 mark zero nine zero,
ahead one quarter impulse speed."
"Aye, Sir. One one five mark ninety," replied Crusher.
"Engage," added Riker.
"Going to impulse power, now," said Crusher as he depressed
the proper contact point on the Helm. Promptly, the bulk of
the Enterprise Saucer section began to clear the large moon
and head on its course to the third planet.
"Let's see what they have been up to in the last 40 years or
so," Riker announced. "Keep our sensors searching the sky
for probes, and I want to know more about that one that may
have spotted us." Riker again stood up and began to move
across the bridge, "Data assemble the bridge crew in the
briefing room in fifteen minutes. I'll be in the Ready
Room." With that said, Riker disappeared behind the Ready
Room door.
An encoded stream of bits, electromagnetic ones and zeros,
traveled at the speed of light towards Gamma Synchnaurus
III, the planet Home. The bits were received by a
communications satellite in synchronous orbit about the
planet and downlinked to a computer system at the Comoris
Space Force Command Headquarters. Once received the
computer system transformed the bits into a high resolution
picture of an incredible saucer shaped vessel, looming above
the largest moon of the seventh planet in the system. Other
pictures began to form as well, in infrared, ultra-violet
and other spectral regions, all showing the same
unidentified vessel.
The clerk on duty was far too busy with other matters to
wonder about the unusual event. He recorded receipt of the
images in a log and transferred the raw data to optical
disk. Turning to the data terminal next to him he typed in
a request to the automated system. A report of the
occurrence would be sent out to all strategic space-based
personnel. Turning back to his other duties, the clerk
promptly forgot all about the images.
Major John Wigginson was sitting at his desk again, a
window on his personal computer screen open to the latest
status reports from Home. He had stopped at a curious entry
regarding a unidentified vessel sighting. Another window
was open to the word processing program he used to keep his
log. He had typed the following words there:
Cycler 1, Log Entry 221, Wigginson, J., Commanding.
We are seven weeks out in our cycler orbit from our outpost
on Quarta, heading back towards Home. The bulk of my crew
and passengers remain on the outpost and we are now only
carrying personnel on rotation Homeside. Tensions are still
high between our government back home and the Lucreacians,
our chief political rivals. Now my country is reporting an
added problem: an USV. An damned flying saucer spotted
right in our own solar system by one of our unmanned probes.
Wigginson sat farther back in his chair contemplating what
to type next. After a long while he continued his typing:
What do they think I can do about it? What will happen when
the Lucs get a hold of this news? Will it be enough to
drive them over the edge?
Wigginson's face was a portrait of exhaustion. His gaze
turned away from his terminal and over to the lone port hole
overlooking the stars. He knew he couldn't do anything from
where he sat. Like his vessel, he was trapped in an orbit
that he could not control. Whatever happened on Home, and
whatever part this unfamiliar vessel would play, he would
have no say in it. The inexorable feeling of uselessness
was overwhelming.
Riker stood, frozen, his back against the Ready Room door.
He surveyed what was normally the Captain's own private
domain. It made him feel somehow uneasy, as if he were
intruding. He looked from the wall mounted fish tank, full
of tropical fish, to the desk and out the large viewport at
the slowly moving stars. He pulled his gaze off the star
field and again contemplated the desk. Yes, he thought, I
should be sitting over there, doing . . . something.
Riker summoned all his strength and moved over to the desk,
around it and sat in the chair. "That wasn't too bad," he
said aloud, a smile back on his face. He sat back in the
chair and made himself comfortable. Soon he would have to
face the real world again. He wondered what Picard would do
in this situation. Riker knew that the Captain often
engaged in solving puzzling scientific and mathematical
problems to get his mind off the routine of running a
starship and to reduce the strain of command. Riker did not
much enjoy such pastimes, he would rather listen to an
exotic alien ballad or a good jazz piece.
As he sat thinking about his next actions his gaze dropped
to the terminal built into the desk top. An indicator was
flashing a MESSAGE WAITING indication. Riker knew that the
indication would only be on if the person that the message
was for was sitting at the desk. Since the computer knew it
was Riker at the desk, and not Picard, the message must be
for him. Riker sat up straight and was about to retrieve
the message when the Ready Room door slid open to reveal
Counselor Deanna Troi.
Troi quietly entered the room, a slight frown on her face.
Annoyed, Riker looked up from the desk, but smiled as he saw
who it was. "Counselor, here to tear apart my command
abilities already?," he joked, "I've only been in charge for
a little over five hours now." He stopped when he realized
she was not enjoying his little attempt at humor.
"No, Commander," she answered absently.
"What's the matter, Deanna?," asked Riker.
"Imzadi," she began, using her Betazoid pet name for Riker,
"I'm worried about this mission. What if we have been seen.
These people are primitive, but they could still be
dangerous to us. What if we have already inadvertently
broken the Prime Directive?"
Riker smiled at the sound of his pet name, she used it less
and less often these days. At one time she would never have
addressed him as anything but Imzadi. He smiled warmly at
her, trying to lighten her mood, "You had better not call me
that while I'm in command, Deanna."
She smiled briefly at this comment then continued, "Oh,
Will, be serious." She moved farther into the room so that
the door behind her would close. She hesitated for some
seconds and then blurted out her real concern, "You've never
been in command during a Prime Directive crisis before, do
you think you can handle that?"
Riker thought seriously about this, it was a legitimate
question, and one that was on his mind. This situation was
not as dangerous as the time he had taken command of the
Klingon vessel Pagh, at least not in the physical sense. He
had passed all the academy tests, but would he be able to do
the right thing in a real situation? He knew what the
answer must be, "That's why I'm here, Deanna," he replied.
"I signed aboard the Enterprise instead of accepting a
lesser command of my own just so I would get to be in these
situations, to learn how to handle them; to learn how I
would handle them."
"But Captain Picard is not here to teach you now, do you
think you can handle it, Commander?," she asked again.
Riker was slightly taken aback at the insinuation that he
needed Picard to teach him, but he quickly realized that was
probably another reason he was on the Enterprise. He
finally looked up at Troi again and decided to take one more
shot at trying to lighten her mood. "So we're back to
Commander, that must be an official question!"
Troi gave Riker a sharp, but amused look. Riker realized
immediately that he was not going to be able to calm the
Counselor's fears with humor. So he decided to play it
straight. "It'll be okay, Counselor," he began. "Besides I
have the support of everyone out there on the bridge;
together we'll find a way."
Troi was still uneasy. Riker could see it in her face, he
could feel it, in an almost Betazoid fashion, he had a
unique connection with Troi. He stood and walked around the
desk, quickly covering the space between them, his eyes
locked in hers. He stopped about a foot from her and placed
his strong hands lightly on her upper arms before he spoke
again. "Is something else wrong, Deanna?," he said,
searching her eyes for an answer.
Troi looked away, unwilling to meet his gaze, "It's just
that I've never had to counsel you in the position of
commander of this starship before, Will," she said in an
uncharacteristically soft voice. "I'm worried that I might
fail you at a critical time by letting our past get in the
way."
Riker smiled again, "Not a chance," he said to her, "You're
too good a Counselor for that, Deanna."
Troi finally smiled and shook her head, again fixing her
gaze on Riker's eyes. Riker slowly removed his hands from
her shoulders, but continued to stand directly in front of
her, less than a foot away.
Troi's smile was steady as she began to speak again, "I'm
the one who is supposed to be giving you counsel,
Commander," she said, evoking a small laugh from Riker.
"Thanks for the pep talk. I'll leave you to your work now,
Sir." With that said, Troi backed out of the Ready Room,
turned and walked away. Riker smiled at her as she exited.
Once the doors had closed, Riker returned to the task he had
begun before Troi had arrived. He strolled back behind the
desk and resumed his seat, now totally at ease with his
surroundings. The talk with Troi had settled his own nerves
as well as hers. He laughed at himself as he realized she
had probably planned it that way. He reached across the
desk and activated the computer terminal. "Computer,
playback message for Commander Riker."
"Working," replied the terminal. At once the screen
brightened to show a view of the room he was sitting in. A
familiar face dominated the screen, it was Jean-Luc Picard.
Before Riker could react, the image of Picard began to
speak.
"Commander Riker . . . Will, I'm leaving you this little
message as a reminder. It seems strange to be talking to
you again, since you have just left my Ready Room. Of
course you won't see this message until we have separated
and you have an occasion to sit at my desk, as I know you
will."
Riker smiled, realizing now what Picard had to accomplish
when he had left him alone in this room some five hours
earlier.
The message continued, "You are a fine officer Number One,
that is why I had no qualms about leaving you in command
while Worf and I go off to meet our re-fit schedule. This
mission should be an exciting one for you, I only wish that
I could be there to share it. Be advised however, that you
are going into a Prime Directive situation."
"I will not remind you of the importance of that directive;
all academy graduates have that ingrained in their heads.
What I will tell you, is that these situations can be
difficult -- to put it mildly. It is too easy, too enticing
to let one's feeling come into play and make the wrong
decisions. I have the utmost confidence that you will
choose the right path, Number One. Remember above all else,
we must uphold the Prime Directive, or we are nothing."
"One last piece of advice, Number One; we have a fine bridge
crew and a staff of hundreds of professionals aboard; don't
hesitate to use their skills should the need arise. I have
no doubt that this mission of yours will go smoothly. Bon
chance, Number One. Picard out."
The terminal screen faded to black. Riker was left alone
again, thoughtfully rubbing his bearded face, "I hope
you're right, Captain," he said to himself. Riker pondered
the Captain's advice, he was right about the crew of course.
Besides the bridge crew and their alternates, the Enterprise
was home to hundreds of scholars, doctors, nurses, engineers
and scientists, and their spouses and children. In all,
over a thousand people comprised the complement of the
Galaxy class vessel, most of them still at his disposal on
the saucer section. Riker could, on a moment's notice,
obtain the services of any number of specialists in any
field of endeavor. Suddenly a thought occurred to him and
he reached over to activate the computer terminal.
CHAPTER 2
The bridge crew was assembled around the curved table in the
main briefing room on deck 5. A wall of windows much like
the one in the smaller bridge briefing room separated them
from the slowly moving star field. Normally the view would
have shown dozens of streaking stars indicative of motion
under warp drive, but the saucer section of the USS
Enterprise was not capable of traveling at such speeds.
The saucer was used mainly as a lifeboat for the non-
combative members of the crew and their families during
times of battle or other crisis. At such times it would be
taken, under warp drive, to some safe distance, separated
from the main battle section and left to fend for itself
until the battle or crisis was over. Now it was being used
as a separate vessel so that the Enterprise crew could
perform two missions at once, a novel use, and one that
probably would cause ripples clear up the chain of command
once the word got out.
Riker, Data, LaForge and Troi all sat around the table,
eyeing the one newcomer to the group. Only Riker knew who
she was, since it was at his request that she had joined
them. The others would have to wait for introductions. The
newcomer was a female Lt. Commander dressed in a blue Star
Fleet Sciences uniform, she was about 30 years of age, tall
of stature, possessed of shoulder length curly dark hair and
dark eyes. She was quite attractive and appeared to be calm
and self-assured, not at all nervous about being thrust into
close association with the senior members of the bridge
crew.
Riker called the meeting to order precisely on schedule.
"I've called this meeting to discuss the mission situation
and to plan our next moves," he stated flatly. Deciding to
let his crew wait a while longer before introducing the
outsider, he turned to Geordie LaForge and continued,
"First, I want to hear the report on that probe, Engineer."
"We were able to locate that same probe, Commander,"
responded LaForge, "And it is functional. ata," said Riker, cutting Data off before he could
spew forth the entire technical specification of the craft,
"Did the probe scan us? Has it reported its findings back
to GS III?"
"I believe the answer to both questions is yes, Commander,"
said Data, not in the least bit annoyed at having been cut
off. Data was constantly trying to improve himself, he knew
that he often reported much more information than was
necessary for the given situation. After pausing a moment
to see if Riker had any more questions, he continued, "The
probe is equipped with multiple passive sensors on all sides
and is constantly sending data back towards Gamma
Synchnaurus III, the planet that the inhabitants refer to as
Home."
"The passive sensors may be the reason we didn't get an
automated indication of the probe's presence," added
LaForge. "Our automatic warning systems are keyed by any
kind of energy impinging on our navigational screens. Only
active sensors would do that. The mass of the probe was too
small to show up on our mass detectors, we were lucky to
pick it up by accident during the pre-approach scan."
The scenario had merit. The Enterprise's automated alarms
were only designed to detect active sensing, that is,
sensors that used some form of energy or matter beam to
illuminate or otherwise scan an object. Passive sensors
were limited, and not generally in use by advanced races.
The oversight infuriated Riker, "Lucky!", he nearly yelled,
"Now we know they have proof of our existence," he added in
a more even tone, "And that, ladies and gentlemen, places us
in direct violation of the Prime Directive!"
Riker's statement brought the discussion to a halt. All at
once the assembled crew began to discuss Riker's last
comment among themselves. Only the newcomer did not
participate, she simply sat back in her chair and listened
to the others argue, an intent look on her face. She seemed
to be weighting the pros and cons herself, before she would
enter the discussion.
Riker was preoccupied with his own thoughts. He now knew,
as did they all, that the Enterprise had been observed by a
wandering inter-planetary probe. Images of their vessel
could even now be under review by the inhabitants of Gamma
Synchnaurus III, the planet Home, that had sent out this
vessel. Riker had no idea what impact this indisputable
proof of a superior alien culture would have on the
Homesians.
Riker forced himself back to the discussion he had started.
He raised his right hand to signal the meeting back to
order. The assembled crewmen immediately ended their side
conversations and settled down. When all was quiet, Riker,
gestured to the female newcomer. "Lt. Commander Grissom,"
he began in a somewhat strained voice, "Is an expert on
primitive space faring races." He paused to let that bit of
information sink in. "She'll be working with us to help us
better understand the type of race we're dealing with."
Data, sitting opposite and to the left of Grissom, was busy
accessing his records on the Lt. Commander as soon as he
heard her name. A look of admiration appeared on his face
as he completed the search. Since Data made it a point to
review the records of all ship's personnel, he had no
difficulty in connecting the name Grissom to her records in
his computer fast mind, even before Riker had finished his
introduction. Grissom, Pamela A., Data thought, Lt.
Commander, Star Fleet Sciences. He ran through her entire
life history, including her education, Star Fleet records,
publication lists, everything, including her medical
records, which his mind dwelt upon for almost a full
nanosecond. All of this was accomplished before Riker was
done saying the word races. Her record was exemplary, both
as a scientist and as a Star Fleet officer. Data looked
across the table at her approvingly, immediately accepting
her as a colleague, in fact he almost smiled at her.
Riker began to speak again, breaking Data out of his revere,
"What is your evaluation of our situation, Mr. Grissom."
"Forty years ago these people had barely begun to explore
their immediate planet-moon system," began Grissom in a
husky but not unpleasant voice. "By most standards they
should be into the classic third stage of space development
by now."
"Meaning?," asked Riker.
"A third stage space developmental state," began Data before
Grissom could reply, "Is one that includes a permanently
occupied space station and perhaps the beginnings of a base
on a nearby planet or moon . . ."
Grissom immediately turned to listen to Data, looking
somewhat annoyed at the interruption. Before Data could
continue his answer she cut him off and continued the
explanation to Riker, "Thank you, Lt. Commander Data," she
said cooly, "As I was saying, I wouldn't be at all
surprised if they have a significant presence in space,
including a base on one of the inner planets, probably the
fourth planet, by now."
"Intriguing," Data said, "Long range scans do indicate some
signs of high technology on the fourth planet, enough for a
small colony perhaps. Did you review the scans Lt.
Commander?"
"No," she replied, "But as I said, I'm not surprised."
Data tilted his head to one side, trying to comprehend how
this person could be so accurate, based solely on theory.
Data was not fully versed in the area and so was dully
impressed with the other Lt. Commander's abilities.
Riker spoke up again, breaking Data's concentration, he
addressed his comment to Grissom, "Very good, Commander, but
what does this have to do with your assessment of our
situation?"
"Yes, Sir," she replied, not in the least bit phased by the
comment, "I was leading up to that. If they are a third
stage culture, then a good deal of space travel and
development may still be in the hands of their military."
"Are you suggesting they'd try to attack us?," asked Riker.
"Not unless they can find us first," added LaForge half
jokingly, producing a slight chuckle from Troi and Riker.
"No, Sir," replied Grissom, seemingly oblivious of LaForge's
side comment, "I'm simply suggesting that their military
will be the first to see the pictures from that probe."
Riker was listening intently now. Grissom continued, "If
these people are still divided along intra-planetary
boundaries, not uncommon for third stagers, then news of us
may be destablizing; if one side has the information and the
other doesn't."
"On the other hand, now that they have lost contact they may
forget about us and worry about opponents closer at hand. I
would monitor their military communications and see if there
is any chatter about us."
Riker could hardly believe what he was hearing, this was the
expert the computer had suggested? He thought it over a
second and, trying desperately to keep the tone of his voice
down, said, "So you're saying that on the one hand we could
have destabilized their strategic military balance, but, on
the other hand, that they may forget about us by tomorrow?"
He lost his battle and yelled at her, "Which is it,
Commander!?"
Grissom was still apparently unaffected, as if she
anticipated the reaction. "Sir, I need to know more about
the culture and the people who would be getting those
pictures of us before I can make that determination. I was
simply relating the range of possible outcomes for planning
purposes," she answered in a thoroughly professional tone of
voice.
Riker's face fell. He was almost angry at himself for
having yelled at a subordinate. Of course, she was right.
After all, she was at this meeting on ten minutes notice and
had done well to review the file on this star system and its
people in that amount of time. He was being too hard on
her, "Very well, Commander," he said to her, his voice more
even keyed, then, turning to the assembled crew, he
continued, "Any suggestions about how we can accomplish
this?"
"We have been monitoring their communications," Data
offered. "I have run them through the language banks and
have had the computer search for any reference to what might
be termed a Unidentified Flying Object, a UFO, a Flying
Saucer, a . . ."
". . . And we can send down an away team to check these
people out one on one, Sir," added Grissom, mercifully
cutting Data short. "They are humanoid?," she added,
addressing Data directly.
"Affirmative, Lt. Commander," answered Data, still
unaffected by the constant interruptions.
Riker, a determined look on his face, directed his gaze to
the ceiling of the briefing room, "Bridge!," he called out,
"What's our position, Ensign Crusher?"
"Bridge, here," said the voice of Ensign Crusher from a
hidden speaker in the room. "Approaching the third planet,
Commander. ETA five minutes."
Riker thought for a minute, then spoke, "Very well, let's
see what we can learn about these people from up here. No
away teams yet. That's all for now people, see you all on
the bridge in four hours. I'll want a detailed report.
Dismissed."
Data's mind was wandering again, he barely picked up the
important parts of Riker's last statement, four hours,
detailed report, dismissed. Suddenly Data was aware that
his thoughts were drifting, it was a very odd sensation, one
that he could not remember ever experiencing before. What
had he just been thinking about? Ah, yes, he thought,
Grissom and her report, he must find out more about her.
When he finally looked up, the room was already clearing.
The meeting was breaking up and all were heading to their
assigned duties. LaForge was gesturing for Data to get
going, and Grissom was already gone.
Data hurried to catch up with Grissom in the corridor, he
easily passed by Geordie and overtook her. He was obviously
intrigued by the woman. Geordie was left to follow at a
distance.
"I did not intend to interrupt your report to Commander
Riker, Lt. Commander Grissom," said Data.
"No problem, Lt. Commander," replied Grissom, a cool edge in
her voice, "just don't let it happen again. You may get all
the visibility you'll ever need being third-in-command and
on the bridge crew, but us lowly scientists trying to work
our way up the ranks don't get many chances to impress the
boss."
Data was now totally confounded. What was this woman all
about? Data looked confused, more at himself than at her
remark, all he could think to say in reply was, "Please,
call me Data, Lt. Commander."
"And you call me Mr. Grissom, Sir. Now if you'll excuse me,
I have work to do on the bridge." With that she turned into
a side corridor and entered a turbolift.
Data stopped and watched her as she hurried away. His
enhanced android eyes tracking every motion of her body as
she walked. Then suddenly and without conscious thought he
sighed softly. Startled, Data reached for his chest and
felt along his artificial breastbone and then lightly
touched his lips as if to find out where this strange sound
had come from.
Geordie LaForge stopped as he caught up with Data. Looking
him over Geordie could see that something was upsetting his
friend. Suddenly, he realized what it must be and a large
smile grew on his face. "It sure looks like you have a
major case of the hots for her, Data!," he announced.
Data was startled by the comment, only half realizing that
Geordie was now standing next to him, "Inquiry, `A major
case of the hots', Geordi?"
LaForge laughed, "As in, you like her, maybe even more than
you know, Data."
"Do you really think it possible, Geordie?"
"With you, my friend, anything is possible." With that
said, LaForge patted his friend sharply on the back and
continued down the corridor leaving Data alone with his
thoughts.
CHAPTER 3
Data found himself wandering the corridors. His mind seemed
to be having a debate with itself. Half of his positronic
brain was a mass of incoherent thoughts, while the second
half cooly analyzed the first.
Data's rational side could not remember ever experiencing
anything like it. The only thing that came close was the
sense of confusion he felt after the reading of Tasha Yar's
living will, or perhaps it was more like some of the more
pleasant times he had spent with Tasha. Data could not
decide. One thing that he did know was that he needed to
find out what was going on.
Where would a human being go if they were faced with such a
problem, thought Data? The answer was obvious, and he
immediately headed off in the proper direction. He soon
found a nearby turbolift and entered it. Once inside he
uttered a single word, "Sickbay."
Dr. Kathrine Pulaski, Chief Medical Officer of the USS
Enterprise, was sitting at her office desk, busy compiling
the quarterly crew physical reports on her terminal. She
was not fond of paper work, but even less fond of an
unhealthy crew. Keeping over a thousand people healthy was
quite a challenge. Under Star Fleet regulations, the CMO
was bound to conduct a physical exam of each crew and family
member at least once a year. Although the responsibility
was hers, she, thankfully, did not have to perform all of
them herself. Pulaski had a staff of doctors and paramedics
who could handle most of the actual exams, but she still
insisted upon checking all the work herself while she
prepared the formal report to Bev Crusher. She knew that
the crew health reports from Enterprise would get special
attention from the Chief of Star Fleet Medical.
Pulaski was reading a report of a particularly bad case of
misdiagnosis that was caught at the last minute by the
automated systems, when the door buzzer sounded. Without
looking away from her work, she called out, "Come in."
The door in front of Lt. Commander Data opened and he
stepped into the office of the Chief Medical Officer.
Data's relationship with this new doctor had been less than
cordial to begin with. But, as time went on, they had come
to an understanding, and while still not exactly friendly,
they could function together without an argument ensuing
every five minutes.
Pulaski looked up to see Data stepping into her office and
immediately returned to the report on her screen, an annoyed
look on her face.
"Doctor, I . . . " Data began, but before he could utter
another word Pulaski had cut him off with her outstretched
hand. She was holding it up in his direction in order to
silence him. Data understood, and waited patiently for the
Doctor to finish what she was doing.
Pulaski continued to read the report on her terminal for
some time. She was already furious about the mistake that
one of her Doctors had committed, and now she would have to
deal with Data. She made a note on the report to reprimand
the Doctor in question, a young intern, and then turned away
from the screen to face her guest. "Now, what is it you
want, Data," she said at last.
Data answered quickly, as if he had just entered the room.
In the same exact tone of voice he said, "Doctor, I have a
question."
Pulaski's eyes rolled back in her head. She was tired and
was not up to one of Data's questions. In a near exhausted
tone of voice she said, "Yes, what is it?"
Data hesitated, then said, "Earlier, in the corridor . . .,
I . . . I . . ."
Pulaski perked up, her eyes wide with disbelief, "Yes, spit
it out, Data," she said, "What's wrong, do you have a
malfunction or something? Voice track stuck?"
Data caught himself and steadied his voice, then replied,
"No, Doctor, I am quite functional. However," he said, "I
did emit a sound with which I am not familiar. It sounded
like, Hhhaummmmmm!" Data sighed quite theatrically.
Pulaski had to turn away from Data as a large smile
broadened across her face. She had to fight to stop herself
from laughing. Taking a deep breath to steady herself she
turned back to Data. "Data," she began, a grin still on her
face, "I'm not sure, but I think that was what we humans
call a sigh."
"Query, a sigh?," Data asked somewhat confused.
If there was one thing Pulaski hated worse than one of
Data's questions it was one of his queries. Her hand
immediately went to her forehead and cradled her head. This
was going to be an interesting conversation, "Yes," she
answered at last, "An involuntary sudden exhalation of
breath sometimes caused by anxiety or some other strong
emotion." She wondered if this was another one of Data's
attempts at human humor, but the look on his face was not
one of amusement, "Now what were you doing sighing in the
corridor?," she asked.
"I do not know why it happened," Data replied, "I was
speaking with Lt. Commander Grissom, and as she walked away
. . . I . . . I made that sound with the accompanying chest
and shoulder movements."
Pulaski's expression went from exhaustion to surprise, "She
left?," she blurted out, then in an almost inaudible tone
she added to herself, "Well what do you know the machine is
in love with a real woman!" She caught herself as she
looked up and saw Data had heard, she quickly recovered,
"Tell me, Data, what is she like?"
"Lt. Commander Grissom is a scientist of some reputation,
Doctor. She has been published in all the major journals in
her field and has several publications in areas outside of
her specialty. She is the foremost authority on primitive
space faring cultures, those in their early space programs,
limited to their own solar system. She is quite an
extraordinary officer."
Pulaski was now genuinely interested, could Data actually be
exhibiting an emotional response, "Yes, but what is she
like?," she asked, then continued, "You've just given me her
resume, but what did she do or say to you to make you sigh?"
Data paused, rerunning the conversation in the corridor in
his mind, then answered, "She told me not to interrupt her
reports to the Boss. This does not seem to be a
satisfactory answer, however. I do not know why I sighed,
Doctor, it simply . . . occurred."
"And then you came to me?"
"You are a Doctor and I wanted your opinion of my physical
reaction."
Pulaski couldn't resist the obvious set up, "But I'm a human
doctor, not a mechanic," she said, a large smile on her
face. Immediately she felt ashamed, she was not being fair.
Data, while not human, could be a surprisingly humane
individual, she had grown to respect him as such. "I'm
sorry, Data," she said to him, now more serious, "But I
don't think I can help you, so if you don't mind, I do need
to get back to my reports." A thought occurred to her and
she added, "Perhaps you should speak with Counselor Troi
about this."
Data could see that the Doctor was losing interest, "Yes, of
course, Doctor. Thank you for your time," he replied. Data
nodded his good-bye and turned to leave. As the door closed
behind him, Pulaski was left shaking her head in disbelief.
It was some time before she turned back to the task at hand.
Deanna Troi was sitting at her desk, a pensive look on her
face. Data sat facing her, a blank expression on his own
countenance. They were in the middle of a conversation.
"Counselor, do I look odd to you?," Data asked.
"What do you mean, Data?," replied Troi.
"Do I appear. . .hot? Geordie, that is, Lt. LaForge,
commented that I may have the hots for Lt. Commander
Grissom."
Troi, who was already having problems taking Data's problem
seriously, could not help breaking out in a large smile.
"No, Data," she replied, then trying desperately not to
laugh, she continued, "Having the hots, as you put it, has
nothing to do with body temperature. It simply means that
you may be becoming. . .fond of Grissom. Tell me, how do
you feel?" The question was strange to Troi, how could one
be asking an android how it feels, they weren't supposed to
have feelings at all.
Data paused to think, it seemed to Troi that he may have
been running a system diagnostic test. Finally Data spoke,
"Uncertain. I can sense that something is different, but I
cannot ascertain what it is. Are you sensing anything from
me, Counselor?"
Troi was not usually able to read anything from the android
officer, but now, she wasn't quite sure, "You are
particularly hard to read, Data, being an android. I do get
impressions of respect, admiration, perhaps even a sense of
longing. That is different for you. Can you describe what
it is that you are feeling?"
Again Data paused before he spoke, "Feelings are not even
something I can consciously remember being programmed for,
however, they do seem to surface on odd occasions. I do
respect Lt. Commander Grissom's accomplishments. Although,
I also. . .feel that I need to be with her, at her side. I
act strangely around her, even for me."
"Yes, the sigh."
"Even more," continued Data, "I tend to speak without
thinking about what I am about to say, and I say peculiar
things."
"A human trait, Data?"
Data smiled briefly for the first time since the sighing
incident, "Yes, yes it is!" He paused to think again, as if
he needed the extra time, "But, what do I do now,
Counselor?"
Now it was Troi's turn to think. She knew what advice she
would give to a human crewmen, but with Data she was unsure.
She finally decided to try anyway. "Be with her. Spend
time. Talk to her. Take it slow, Data. This is no doubt a
strange situation for her as well. Give it time."
Data agreed, "Yes, I will do that, Counselor. I seem to be
more in control now, thank you." Data stood up, "I must be
getting back to my duties on the bridge now."
Troi smiled warmly as Data turned to leave her office.
Although she was still confused by the recent events in his
life, she was happy for Data's new found humanity and love.
Data entered the bridge with some feelings of anxiety, he
knew that she would be there. As he stepped off the
turbolift he saw Grissom was working at the Science 1
station on the upper portion of the bridge. He decided not
to waste any time.
"Well, it's about time you showed up, Commander," Grissom
said in a playful tone as Data approached her. The android
equivalent of Data's heart sank. "Listen," she continued,
"I want to apologize for my tone after the briefing, I was
out of line."
Data was suddenly filled with new hope, "There is nothing to
apologize for. We are of equal rank, and you are entitled
to your opinions. I am the one who should be sorry, my
absence from the bridge is inexcusable."
"Well, no sense worrying about spilt milk," she said. Data
nonchalantly glanced at the deck below him to check for any
bovine discharge. "I have been going over these
communications from Home. There are hundreds of military
and commercial messages to choose from, I'm about exhausted,
perhaps you'd like to review some of them?"
Data stepped up to the neighboring Science 2 station and
touched a contact, "Computer, this is Lt. Commander Data,"
he said, "Request display of translations for all Homesian
transmissions recorded to date. Execute."
"All of them!," Grissom exclaimed, but Data did not hear, he
was too busy reading.
"Increase," Data said aloud to the computer, asking it to
display the information more quickly. The display began to
pour out pages of information at an incredible pace.
"Increase," Data said again. Grissom stood back and watched
in awe as Data read the entire record in a matter of
minutes. "Intriguing," Data said when he had completed the
material.
"That was incredible, you do have some amazing capabilities,
Commander.", Grissom said, as she almost smiled at Data.
Two hours later, Data was back at the OPS station, awaiting
the arrival of Commander Riker. The bridge crew were all at
their positions and Grissom was still at work at Science 1.
There were exactly thirty seconds to the end of Riker's four
hour time period, he should be arriving on the bridge at any
moment.
According to Data's internal clock, Riker arrived precisely
on time, stepping onto the bridge from the turbolift just as
the four hours expired. "Status," he said to no one in
particular as he walked across the bridge to stand in front
of the command chair.
Wesley Crusher was the first to respond, "Holding maximum
apogee standard orbit about the planet Home, Commander."
Riker smiled approvingly at the young Acting Ensign, the boy
was maturing into a fine young officer. Riker turned as he
heard Data add, "Cloaking device engaged and operational, we
will not be observed, Sir."
"Reading a number of objects in orbit above the planet, Sir.
Ranging in size from a bolt up to a large space habitat,"
Grissom added, still monitoring the sensors at Science 1.
Riker was pleased, his people were top notch professionals,
he listened as Grissom continued, "I also scan small bases
on each of the moons, they look as if they were once
inhabited, but they aren't anymore, at least not now. A
number of lifeforms are on board the large space station,
perhaps as many as a thousand." She paused and turned to
face the lower bridge, then added, "And Sir, they have a
Star Wars system."
"A what?," exclaimed Riker. He was beginning to get a
little annoyed at all the technical terms being thrown
around by this scientist.
After staring down Data, who was about to speak, Grissom
quickly explained, "Star Wars, Sir, was the popular name of
the Strategic Defense Initiative or SDI, it was . . ."
". . . a defensive shield developed on Earth by the then
United States just prior to the beginning of the Eugenics
Wars. I know what SDI is, Commander, I do know something
about ancient Earth history, especially U.S. Military
History," finished Riker.
"Yes, Sir, so do I. Their system is not as elaborate as
ours was, but it does include the traditional satellite
types: surveillance, acquisition, projectile weapons, and
beam weapons. No way to tell how effective they would be
against an actual attack without evaluating their C-cubed --
their Command, Communications and Control software -- and
their form of battle management. It also looks like two
planetary factions have at least a partial system in place."
"The military and non-military communications do suggest a
high level of tension exists between the two factions," Data
added, after he was sure Grissom had completed her portion
of the report, "But no word about us. Of course, they could
be using some method of secure transmission. . ."
". . .or maybe they have already talked about it and now
it's old news. There is still no way to tell if we caused
the current situation or whether it existed before we
arrived," Grissom added.
Riker's reply was amazingly calm, "So here we are, orbiting
an armed camp on the brink of planetary war and we may have
caused it."
Grissom looked down at her feet and in an
uncharacteristically soft voice answered Riker, "Yes, Sir."
Riker moved over to the center seat and sat down, an angry
yet determined look on his face. He stroked his beard with
his right hand, "Thank you, you've all done a fine job," was
all he could say.
CHAPTER 4
[Note: Most of the remainder of the story
line will be in the form of a teleplay (i.e., dialog and
stage direction), the original form of my work.]
Scene opens on the bridge, much as it was before. Data is
now working with Grissom at Science 2. A Red shirt persons
the OPS console, he is a young Hispanic Ensign with dark
hair, a bushy black moustache and dark close cut hair. He
also has a tropical complexion.
Riker (VO)
Ship's Log, Stardate 42581.6. We have been in
orbit around the planet Home for over six hours.
All attempts to determine the origin of the
current crisis on the planet have failed. We have
also been unable to determine whether the pictures
of our vessel have aggravated the situation or
even caused it.
Riker stands and faces the sciences stations where Grissom
and Data are working. He then slowly walks up to the upper
portion of the bridge.
Riker
Anything new, Commanders?
Grissom
Nothing significant, Sir.
Data
We have, however, located one of their main planet
based space command center, Sir. It is run by
what they call their Space Force.
Grissom
Commander, if the pictures are anywhere, they
should be at that location. They also would know
all about the current crisis there. We can beam
down, and...
Riker
...And what, Mr. Grissom? Contaminate them more?
Grissom
No Sir, we could get in, erase their images of us,
get the information we need and get out. Purely
an intelligence gathering mission.
Riker
You don't sound like a scientist, Grissom. Just
who are you?
Data
Lt. Commander Grissom is fully trained in
Security, Helm and OPS control, Sir. Besides
being a top historian and xeno-anthropologist.
Grissom smiled despite herself at the compliments from Data.
Then turns to face Riker again, all business.
Grissom
(Cool and professional)
Data is correct, Sir. I have been trained and
certified in many areas. May I have your
permission to form an away team?
Data almost smiles again when he realizes Grissom has, for
the first time, used his name without any titles or ranks
attached.
Riker
I'll form the team, Commander.
(Pause)
Alright, it seems there is not much else we can
learn from up here, so we'll have to go down
there. Let's keep it small, less chance of us
totally blowing the Prime Directive that way. The
team will consist of myself and...
As Riker points to himself, Data and LaForge stand at their
consoles. Camera shot widens to show that Troi has also
stood and is now eyeing the scene at the rear of the bridge.
LaForge breaks into Riker's speech.
LaForge
(Shocked)
Sir!
(In a formal military voice)
I respectfully remind the Commander that he is no
longer just the first officer. You are now ranking
officer on board. As acting third-in-command, I
can't approve of your leading an away team at this
time. Sir!
Data
Nor can I, Sir. Your duty is here on the
Enterprise.
Troi
I agree, Commander. This mission is potentially
too dangerous to risk the senior officer.
Grissom
But, I have to go, Sir, I'm the expert on this
type of culture...
Riker
(Agitated)
At ease, all of you!
After a pause, Riker walks down to the center seat, the
CAMERA FOLLOWS. RIKER faces the rear of the bridge,
everyone watches him as he speaks.
Riker (Cont'd)
(Calmly)
Grissom is right. She has to go. Data you'll
lead the team. I'll remain here on the ship.
(Under his breath)
I guess I'll have to live by my own rules.
Riker takes the center seat. Grissom walks over to center
bridge to confront Riker.
Grissom
(Upset)
But, Sir! No disrespect intended, Sir, but Data
just will not do! He's all wrong, he's...he's...
Riker
(Angry)
...He's what, Mr. Grissom? Data is third-in-
command on this vessel, Mister, and you will treat
him as such. He is also acting first officer on
this mission and rightfully should be in charge of
all away team activities. What's your problem,
Grissom?
Grissom
Sir, the planet's inhabitants have a NORMAL
humanoid appearance. Something that Mr. Data, no
matter what his rank and position, does not have.
Riker stands and turns to look at Data, still standing by
Science 2. Smiling he turns back to Grissom.
Riker
(Amused)
Quite right, Commander. However, I think ship's
stores can provide us with a fix for that! You
and Data get ready for the mission, let me handle
the rest.
Riker exits to the Ready Room. Data and Grissom exchange a
puzzled glance, then turn back to their stations at the
SCIENCES consoles.
"What do you have in mind for this Away Mission, Commander,"
Data asked Grissom.
"Well, it seems to me that if we have to get inside a
military facility, we had better look Military."
"Agreed."
Geordie LaForge walked the few steps over from his console
to where the two Lt. Commanders were standing, "I think I
can help you with that!"
Cut to scene of Riker walking through a corridor heading to
transporter room, some time later. Several crew people are
seen also walking the corridors in the background.
Riker (VO)
Ship's Log, Supplemental. Lt. Commanders Data and
Grissom have been outfitted as high ranking Space
Force officers of the planet Home. They will form
an away team and infiltrate the space command
center on that planet in hopes of recovering any
images of our vessel. They also will be trying to
figure out the current planetary crisis and its
origins.
Riker REACHES THE DOOR to the TRANSPORTER ROOM and ENTERS.
The DOOR CLOSES behind him.
REVERSE ANGLE OF RIKER as he enters the transporter room.
He smiles at the sight of Grissom and Data in Space Force
uniform. Data's complexion is more human looking, yet still
a bit sallow. He is also wearing blue contact lens. The
uniforms are steel blue and look very much like shark skin
suits. In other respects they resemble a modern U.S. Air
Force Class A uniform. Data shows the rank of Lt. Colonel,
while Grissom is wearing a rank of Major. Grissom has her
long hair done up in a severe military bun. Both have some
sort of ribbons and medals as well, resembling modern day
military awards. Riker faces them as they stand up-stage of
the transporter console. The transporter chief O'Brien, a
young blond Australian in Security Gold uniform, is working
at the controls.
Riker
Well, Data, it seems that make-up will work out
just fine. What do you think, Grissom?
Grissom
Yes, Sir. It should work.
Data
Yes, although the contact lens do impair some of
my visual sensors.
(Pause, reflecting.)
Our subcutaneous communicator and universal
translators are in place, Sir. We have outfitted
ourselves as members of their Intelligence group.
Lt. LaForge was even able to give us authentic
identification and has added our assumed names to
their computer databanks.
Grissom
If they check us out, we'll show up in their
computers as legitimate.
Riker
Good work, you two. Just remember, get in, get
what we need and get out. We don't know when or
if the situation down their will explode,
literally. Good Luck.
Nodding, Data and Grissom take their positions on the
transporter platform as the CAMERA FOLLOWS.
Riker
Energize!
Transporter chief works the console and Data and Grissom de-
materialize.
Cut to a ROOF SHOT of the planet's surface. Shot of a clean
looking modern plant that extends beyond the camera's view.
It should look somewhat like a 1980's Earth military post or
Aerospace contractor plant. Center shot Data and Grissom
materialize between two trees near a low building. Cut to a
MEDIUM SHOT of the two just as they fully appear. Data and
Grissom survey the area to make sure they were not observed.
Data
It would seem we were not observed.
Grissom
Yes, Sir.
(Pause)
Listen, Data, I'm sorry about the fuss I made up
their about your appearance. I was only doing my
job. Down here you may be the boss, but you may
have to follow my lead if we get into trouble, I'm
the expert here.
Data
Agreed, Lt. Commander.
Grissom
Major, Colonel, I'm a Major.
Data
Yes, of course, Major.
Grissom
OK, the main building is that way. We're agreed
that we should try to obtain information under the
pretense of investigating recent UFO activity, and
that's where we'll start.
Data
Affirmative.
(Changing his accent to a
caricature of a tough military
man)
Now, move out, Major!
Grissom
(Smiling)
Yes, Sir, Colonel!
CAMERA PANS to follow Grissom and Data as they move out from
under the cover of the trees and cross a small square to
reach another building. The sentry on duty out front seeing
their rank insignia salutes as they enter. The SENTRY is
wearing what looks to be a modern day enlisted man's
fatigues and is a private. The two do not return the
salute, but Data is fascinated by the gesture, looking the
soldier up and down until Grissom drags him to the front
door.
Cut to the building lobby, sitting behind a large front desk
enclosure lined with TV screens is a tough looking Space
Force Sergeant. He is wearing what looks to be a modern day
Air Force uniform consisting of a light blue short sleeved
shirt and darker blue slacks. He is wearing the rank of
sergeant in the Air Police. The Sergeant is startled to his
feet by the sight of Data and Grissom. He salutes them as
they step up to the desk.
Sergeant
(At attention)
Sirs! I wasn't informed of any visitors from
Intelligence today, Sirs.
Grissom
Since when do we have to announce ourselves to
you, Sergeant?
Data
We need to see the Duty Officer, right away!
Sergeant
(Nervously)
Ahhh, yes, Sir, and umm, Mam! Captain Bovmann is
in the situation room. Take the last elevator
down, all the way down. I'm assuming you have
high enough clearance for access to the room?
Data
Quite high, Sergeant, quite high enough indeed!
Sergeant
Yes, Sir.
Data and Grissom head for the elevators, which are off
screen. Camera remains on the Sergeant as he watches them
turn the corner. He then reaches for his phone and punches
in some numbers.
Sergeant
(Into the phone)
Yeah, Williams, this is the north lobby... yeah,
tell the D.O. he's got some brass headed his way.
(Pause, listening)
Yeah, a Light Colonel and a woman Major,
Intelligence...
Cut to view of Data and Grissom in the elevator area. Data
finds the last elevator and approaches it. He narrowly
avoids smashing his nose into the doors before he realizes
that it won't open for him. Puzzled, he looks to Grissom.
Grissom looks around the area, locates the down button and
punches it. The elevator doors in front of Data open. DATA
enters with Grissom right behind. The ELEVATOR DOOR CLOSES.
MEDIUM SHOT of DATA and GRISSOM in a normal looking, well
kept elevator. We get the impression from VISUAL or SOUND
CUES that they are going down a LONG WAY. DATA TURNS to
GRISSOM and speaks.
Data
Perhaps we should try to contact the ship before
we proceed any farther. We may not be able to
contact them from the situation room.
Grissom
Agreed. Let's check in and report.
Data reaches his right hand up and touches a spot just
behind his right ear, we hear the familiar sound of the
insignia communicator.
Data
Data to Enterprise. Come in, Commander Riker.
Cut to scene on the bridge. Riker is standing as if he got
up from the center seat when he heard Data's voice. He looks
up at the ceiling.
Riker
Riker, here. What's your situation, Data?
Data (On Speakers)
We have successfully infiltrated the main building
and are on our way to the situation room to meet
with the ranking officer on duty. We may lose
communications at that time, since the room is
located underground and may be electronically
shielded.
Riker
Very well. Try to check in with us every two
hours. If we don't hear from you, we'll lock onto
your transponders and beam you out of there.
Grissom (On Speakers)
No, Sir. You won't know where we are. They must
not observe our technology. Please wait until you
hear from us before attempting to beam us up.
Riker
Very well, but let's not push our luck. In and
out, remember?
Grissom (ON SPEAKER)
Yes, Sir, Away team out.
CAMERA SHOWS elevator doors open on a shot of Data and
Grissom. CAMERA PANS to show a short hallway. A man in
Captain's uniform awaits them at the entrance to the
situation room. An electronic card reader is located to the
right of the door. The Captain is at the left. He is a
white man in his mid-thirties in short sleeve uniform. He is
about 5 feet 8 inches tall and slim but not skinny. He wears
a name tag that reads "BOVMANN" over his LEFT BREAST POCKET.
He speaks in a low tone, obviously worried, but not about
the two new arrivals.
Bovmann
Welcome to Space Command, I'm Captain Bovmann, day
shift duty officer. How can I help you, Sirs?
Data
We wish to speak with you, Captain, regarding a
rather sensitive matter. Perhaps we could go to
your office?
Bovmann
(Suspicious)
Very well, Sir. I have a small cubby hole off the
main room in there.
Bovmann makes a point of tapping all his pockets in an
obvious manner to indicate he was searching for something.
He doesn't find it.
Bovmann
(Feigned Annoyance)
Damn! I must have dropped my ID inside! You two
are cleared for in there, yours will open it.
Would either of you mind?
Grissom
(Aside to Data)
He's deliberately testing us, Data. He's doesn't
seem too happy having us here, must be the crisis
situation. Let's hope Lt. LaForge's IDs are as
good as he thinks they are!
Data
(To Bovmann)
Very well, Captain, but you had better place
yourself on report. Losing ones ID is a serious
breech of security, especially at a time like
this.
Bovmann stiffens and comes to attention, saluting Data,
obviously distressed that his ploy has backfired on him.
Grissom smiles at Data as he removes his ID from his right
breast pocket and slides it's magnetic strip through the
card reader at the right of the door. A MALE metallic voice
rings out.
Metallic Voice (OS)
Identification verified. Lt. Colonel D. Anderson,
Space Force, Intelligence branch.
The door opens. Data nods at Grissom and Bovmann. Bovmann
holds the door open for Data and Grissom then enters
himself. The DOOR CLOSES behind him.
Cut to a MEDIUM shot of the situation room. CAMERA PANS
around showing us the area. It looks something like the War
room from "War Games," but perhaps not as large. Camera
shows reverse angle of Data, Grissom and Bovmann entering
the room. Data is shown in close-up scanning the room with
particular attention to the situation map displays. A
lighted display shows "Alert Status" as 3 on a scale from 5
to 1. A number of people can be seen working at various
consoles throughout the room. The group continues to walk
down the hallway which looks down on the SITUATION ROOM
area.
Data
I see we are at alert status 3.
Bovmann
Yes, Sir, for the last few hours or so. The Lucs
been acting up lately, it's been a real bear.
Bovmann shows the Enterprise duo into a sound proof glass
enclosed office just off the situation room. They enter and
close the TRANSPARENT DOOR behind them.
The room is cluttered, but everything has its place. We SEE
BOOKS, MAGAZINES, and PRINTOUTS on BOOK SHELVES. A large
DESK which faces two small chairs that have there backs to a
curtained off portion of the transparent wall that separates
the office from the hallway to the SITUATION ROOM. Bovmann
takes the seat behind his desk and offers the other two
chairs in the room to Data and Grissom. They sit facing
him.
Bovmann
As you can see, we're damn busy here right now.
So, what can I do for you, Sirs.
Grissom
Colonel Anderson and I are here to investigate
reports of a UFO sighted by one of our probes in
the outer system. With all this trouble with the
Lucs, we've been ordered to see if maybe they were
the cause.
Bovmann
Look, ahh, Major Grissom, is it?
Grissom
Yes.
Bovmann
I ain't heard nothing about no flying saucers. If
the information is here, then I haven't seen it.
'Been a little too busy to worry about little
green men.
Data
I see. In that case we would like to check your
planetary probe records ourselves.
Grissom
Yes. Headquarters needs more information quickly,
so if you would be so kind as to show us to the
records room we'll begin.
Bovmann
I'll have to arrange it. Let me go find someone
to take you. I really can't leave the situation
room for long while I'm on duty.
Data
Thank you, Captain Bovmann.
Bovmann stands and exits the room, CLOSING the DOOR behind
him.
Grissom
That was too easy, I don't like it. He's going to
check us out.
Data
Perhaps, but since our ID cards were recognized by
their system at the door, they should find our
planted records in their computers, Major.
Grissom
I know, but still, I don't like it, he's keeping
something from us.
Back in the situation room Bovmann motions to a young man.
The YOUNG MAN WALKS closer to Bovmann and the Camera pans to
and closes on Bovmann's and the young man's faces. The
young man is named Williams and he is a Corporal. He is
blond with no facial hair and a short hair cut, around 25
years old, he looks even younger. Williams wares a uniform
much like that of Bovmann, but with appropriate rank
insignia. Williams stands about 6 feet tall.
Bovmann
Williams, I want you to check out these two
Intelligence officers, and not through the
computers. Call H.Q., I want a flesh and blood
person to vouch for them. Something's up with
these two, they didn't even know we were at Alert
Status 3, hell we've been at 3 for days now.
Then get yourself over to the records room and get
me everything we have in the last few days on
USVs.
Williams nods his acknowledgement and goes off at a half run
to a console in the background and lifts a phone hand set to
his head. Camera zooms onto Bovmann's menacing face and
we... Fade Out.
CHAPTER 5
Data and Grissom are STANDING over Bovmann's desk looking at
what appear to be plans to the building.
Data (VO)
Away Team Log, Stardate 43720.51. Lt. Commander Data
recording. It has been one hour and 15 minutes since we
have checked in with the Enterprise. Captain Bovmann has
not returned with his pro-offered guide. We must assume
that he will not return until he discovers who and what we
are. We have located the records room and will now attempt
to obtain the records we need on our own before we are found
out.
Data
At least we know that our presence did not cause the current
crisis. Captain Bovmann has not even seen the pictures. It
is safe to assume that someone saw them, but did not pay
much attention to them because of the current alert.
Grissom
I don't think we can assume that. Bovmann may be lying to
us about allot of things. What I want to know is are they
at status 3 going up or down the scale?
Data
Yes, are they two steps away from peace or two steps away
from war?
Grissom
In either case we still need to get rid of their evidence of
us. We need to get to that records room. We'll need some
kind of diversion . . .
Bovmann suddenly enters the room with Williams right behind
him. Williams is now armed with a rifle and Bovmann is
wearing a conspicuous side arm holster. He also carries a
thick folder of papers.
Bovmann
Please, Colonel, Major, sit down.
Bovmann motions them to the seats they held earlier. DATA
and grissom sit. Bovmann sits also, again behind his desk,
placing the folder in front of him.
Grissom
What is the meaning of this, Captain, and why have we been
kept waiting so long?
Bovmann
(To Grissom)
Oh, I've got what you want right here, I think.
(To Williams)
Williams, wait right outside that door facing in. If you
see either of these to move towards me, please come in here
and shoot them.
Williams nods and takes up his position as ordered. He can
be seen standing facing inward on the other side of the
TRANSPARENT DOOR. Bovmann opens the folder in front of him.
Bovmann
He can't hear us now, and he can't see these pretty pictures
either. They're not great but they clearly show a large
saucer shaped object out by Septiem, that's our seventh
planet in case you didn't know. Now, do you want to talk?
Data
Excellent work, Captain. That is precisely the file we
need. Now if you'll just hand it over we will be on our way
. . .
Bovmann
Not so fast. You two didn't check out. You're in our
computers, but no one at H.Q., or any other place we called,
knows either one of you.
(Pause)
Now, the way I figure it, you're either Lucs or L.G.M.s,
maybe even from this here ship.
Grissom
We're Intelligence, Bovmann, no one's supposed to know us!
Bovmann
Yeah, a likely . . .
The phone on the Captain's desk suddenly rings. He picks it
up after the first ring.
Bovmann
(Into the phone.)
Yeah, D.O.'s desk, Bovmann speaking.
(Pause. Then Angry.)
They've upped the status to what!
(Short Pause)
Damn! I'll be right out! Make sure the C.O. is on his way.
Bovmann HANGS UP the phone and closes the file on his desk
and MOVES QUICKLY to the door. He opens it and Williams is
there. Other soldiers can be seen running past in the
background. The soldiers are Marine types in fatigues and
wearing combat helmets.
Williams
(To Bovmann)
Is it true, Sir, d'they change to status 1?
Bovmann
(Angry)
Quiet you idiot!
(After a short pause, more calmly).
Yes, they did, now get in here and watch these two . . .
whatever they are, closely! I've got to get back into this
mess out here. God, I hope someone didn't do something
stupid!
Bovmann pushes past Williams as they change places.
Williams WALKS into the office looking worried. He has his
rifle pointed at the seated Enterprise duo. He takes up
position standing by the side of Bovmann's desk, his rifle
just out of reach of Data.
Grissom
(Aside to Data)
Well I guess this answers our first question, its War!
Riker sat in the center seat of the enterprise bridge
rubbing his beard and looking worried. Crusher at helm,
some red shirt is at OPS. LaForge is at the Engineering
station. Troi is at Riker's side at her station. The
security station is also manned by the same gold shirted
Security Officer as before. CAMERA PANS around the bridge
and settles on a MEDIUM SHOT of LAFORGE at his station.
LaForge
Commander, I am tracking a cylindrical object on an
intercept course with the alien space station. Sir, it's a
nuclear missile!
RIKER STANDS and looks back at LaForge. CAMERA REVERSES
ANGLE to show RIKER as he looks down towards TROI. He
speaks in Troi's general direction, but the words are not
just meant for her.
Riker
(Excited)
Good Lord, it's started and our people are right in the
middle of it!
(To Crusher, more calm)
Any word from Data or Grissom since they last checked in?
Crusher
No, Sir! You would have been notified, Commander.
Riker
Damn!
Riker turns to the Security Officer at his station.
Riker
(To Security Officer)
Lt. activate phaser banks, arm photon torpedoes!
Troi and LaForge STAND at once.
Troi
(To Riker)
Commander, you can't, the Prime Directive!
Riker
(Angry)
I can't just stand here and let these people destroy
themselves, when I have the power to stop it! What about
Data and Grissom, they're down there!
Riker points to the image of GS III on the main viewscreen.
Troi
We can't do it, Will. In almost every case when Federation
personnel thought it was right to break the Prime Directive,
they've been wrong. They've made mistakes. Are we more
competent than all the rest of the Federation, are we better
than all who have come before us?
LaForge
(To Riker)
And Sir, we'd have to become visible to fire our weapons, no
telling what effect that might have. They might start
shooting at us!
Riker looked pained. He gestureS to the security officer to
carry out his last order. The officer's hands fly over the
console and he nods when completed. LaForge resumes his
seat at the Engineering console.
LaForge
(Looking at his console)
Commander, now reading a beam weapon platform coming to bare
on the missile. They may be able to solve their own
problems.
(Pause)
Firing . . . a hit!
(Turning to Riker)
They did it, Sir!
RIKER LOOKS somewhat RELIVED as he RESUMES HIS SEAT.
Riker
(Thinking Aloud)
Yeah, for now, but that was just the first shot!
After a moment Riker turned suddenly to LaForge, "Geordie, I
need some options! You, Troi and Mr. Crusher, in the
briefing room please." Riker led the small contingent to
the room just off the bridge. Once inside they arranged
themselves around the small curved table, Riker sat at the
head in the seat usually reserved for Captain Picard.
"I need some answers, people, how are we going to prevent
these beings from blowing themselves away without violating
the Prime Directive?" Riker asked.
"Our weapons can stop them alright, Sir, but without
violating the Directive, I just don't know," replied
LaForge.
Wesley Crusher, seated opposite LaForge, spoke next, "What
if we didn't use our weapons, Sir?"
"Explain, Wesley," replied Riker.
"Well, what if we used our computer to break into their
Command and Control network and aim their weapons with our
sensors? The main problem with early space based defense
systems was their lack of good acquisition and
discrimination sensors and the complexities of battle
management software. Our sensors and computers are far
superior to anything these people have, we could direct
their defenses from here and then back out of the system
without them ever knowing what happened. They'll assume
that their systems just worked as designed."
Riker surveyed the other two participants, "Any objections,
comments?"
"Yeah," answered LaForge, "the theory is nice, but what if
they do detect the intrusion? That could trigger a war. We
could cause something to happen that wouldn't have if we
hadn't interfered. Even if we did succeed in breaking in,
we have no knowledge of there weapon capacity. There may
not be enough firepower in orbit to take out all the
missiles."
"And even if we did succeed," added Troi, "what gives us the
right to intervene here. The Prime Directive expressly
forbids us from interfering with the internal policies of an
independent planet, even if they are self-destructive."
"But they'd never know," protested Crusher.
"We would know, and so would Star Fleet, Wes," replied
Riker. "It's no good, to many risks involved. Any other
suggestions?"
The three crew members looked from one to another and each
averted their eyes from Riker. There were no options. Troi
was right, the Prime Directive left no room for compromise
in this situation. After several tense minutes of silence
Wesley spoke up again, "We're proceeding on the assumption
that we haven't yet broken the Prime Directive, but we don't
know that. Isn't that what we're here to find out,
Commander? Wouldn't that change everything?"
"No, Wes. It doesn't change anything, except maybe get us
all court-martialed on top of letting a whole planet die."
"But, Commander, if we're going to fry anyway, why not take
the chance and try to not take these people with us,"
offered LaForge.
Troi was shocked, "Geordie, if we stop them today that
doesn't guarantee that they won't start another war next
week, or the week after. In fact, if they think their
systems work perfectly, they might start shooting missiles
at each other every day."
"Or, they may dismantle all the missiles because they're
obsolete!"
Riker held up his hand to stop the debate, "The fact remains
that we don't know what effect we've had here yet. We must
establish contact with the away team and find out. In the
meantime, you and Wesley work on hacking into their
computers and standby. If they start something big, maybe
we can finish it."
Data and Grissom were still seated in Bovmann's office.
Williams has backed off a bit but is still leveling the
rifle at them. CAMERA ZOOMS to a closer shot of GRISSOM and
DATA as Grissom gives Data a signal that she is going to try
something on Williams by MOVING HER EYES from DATA to
WILLIAMS. DATA SMILES back at her.
Grissom
(To Williams)
Very good, very good indeed, Williams. You'll make a fine
officer!
Williams
(Confused)
Excuse me, Mamm?
Grissom
This has all been a drill, Williams! We're not really at
war, and Bovmann knows exactly who we are! You've passed
the test. Bovmann should be back anytime now . . .
Grissom looks out of the transparent door over Data's
shoulder. Williams momentarily waivers and takes a quick
peek himself, slightly lowering his rifle towards Data in
the process. Data seizes the opportunity, grabbing the
rifle by the barrel and bending it backwards towards
Williams. Williams is scared speechless by Data's strength
and is quickly subdued by a karate chop to the neck
delivered by Grissom. WILLIAMS FALLS to the FLOOR.
Grissom
(To Data. Exhilarated)
I was hoping you'd catch on and follow my lead! What a team
we are!
Data
Yes, but you might have gotten yourself killed, Commander.
Grissom
(Teasing)
Why, Mr. Data, I didn't know you cared!
Data is caught off guard by the remark and is surprised by
his own answer.
Data
(Confused)
Yes, I suppose I do.
(Normal Tone)
We had better hurry, Commander.
Grissom momentarily regards Data and gives him a questioning
look. She then quickly recovers and becomes her old
businesslike self.
Grissom
We have to make sure everything is here first, we may still
have to go to the records room.
Grissom MOVES to BOVMANN'S DESK and looks hurriedly through
the file Bovmann left behind. Data keeps WATCH by the DOOR.
MEDIUM SHOT from the rear of the bridge towards the main
screen. Riker has taken the center seat again. The screen
shows a beautiful blue and white cloud decked world, much
like Earth from space, except that the visible land masses
are shaped differently.
Pan to Engineering station and zoom on LaForge as he is
reading from a panel.
LaForge
(Stage Whisper)
Here we go again!
(Pause. Then Aloud to Riker)
Reading multiple launches from the Eastern hemisphere of the
planet, Commander. This looks like the real thing.
Camera zooms out to encompass Riker and Security console.
Riker gets to his feet and turns to face LaForge over the
Security Console.
Security Lt.
(To Riker)
Still no word from the away team, Sir!
Riker looks from LaForge to Troi as he speaks to the
security officer.
Riker
Damn, we have to know what's behind all this, try again, Lt.
If we don't know then there's nothing we can do, we can't
interfere!
Security Lt. nods and works some controls on his console.
Riker turns back to the helm and in a somewhat stronger
voice says . . .
Riker
Ensign Crusher, prepare to take control of orbiting defense
systems on my command.
Crusher
Yes, Sir! Transferring our virus program to my control, we
can take over in under ten seconds at your order.
Probability of detection is less than one percent.
Riker
Very good, Ensign.
(To LaForge)
You to, Lt. LaForge.
Riker returns to the command chair and sits down.
Riker
(Determined)
I can't wait any longer, Geordi, locate Data and Grissom and
beam them out of there, now! I have to know what they've
learned.
LaForge works some controls on his station again and again.
LaForge
I can't, Sir.
Riker
(Alarmed)
What do you mean you can't?
LaForge
I can't lock onto their transponders. It's either
interference from that earlier blast or they're in a
shielded room down there!
Riker
Damn it, Data, where are you?
CHAPTER 6
Data is STANDING by the door to Bovmann's office keeping an
eye out for any intrusion while GRISSOM is behind Bovmann's
desk rifling through the thick folder of material.
Grissom
I have to say one thing for Bovmann, he's thorough!
Everything is here, including optical discs of the original
data transmissions. There's is some reference to automated
reports to strategic space-based personnel, but those were
text only. That shouldn't be a problem if we take the
original sensor data. All they'll have is a mystery message
and no data to back it up with.
"I agree with your line of reasoning, Commander," Data said
without taking his eyes off the corridor. "Is there any
reference to the incident causing the current state of
alert?"
"No. I don't have any information here that is defintive on
that point. I wish I could get into some of these locked
drawers and file cabinets." Grissom glanced at the locked
cabinets next to her.
"Perhaps I can be of service," Data said as he approached
the desk. "Please keep watch while I search the files."
Data and Grissom exchanged places behind the desk, Grissom
moving over to the door to keep the watch. Data had no
problem reducing the formiable looking security lock on the
cabinet to a pile of scrap metal. After some searching,
Data found what they needed, "Here is a copy of the alert
status log, Commander," he said, moving towards the door,
document in hand. "It clearly indicates that alert status
three was reached five days ago and has been at that level
since that time. The reason given is a massing of
Lucreacian forces at a strategic border location on the
Western hemisphere."
Grissom took the report from Data's hands to see for
herself, "Yes, this is what we need alright. The Enterprise
wasn't even in the system at that time. We can get out of
here now."
DATA MOVES to peer out the transparent door and out into the
Situation Room PIT area.
DATA
Not a moment too soon, Commander, look at the missile
status board.
DATA POINTS to something beyond the DOOR.
Data (cont'd)
They have just launched a full scale strike against the
Lucreacians.
Grissom
(Anxious)
Oh, my God! We'll have to risk beaming out from here, Data,
there's no time!
Data nods and touches the same place on his neck as before.
Nothing happens. Immediately Grissom tries the same, again
with no effect.
Data
This area must be shielded as we suspected. We must get
back to the surface. There should be enough confusion to
cover our escape.
Grissom
Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!
Data nods and checks the corridor again through the door.
He opens it quickly and steps out into the hall. Grissom
follows.
DATA and GRISSOM WALK quietly and quickly down the hall,
there is a frantic amount of activity going on in the
situation room "pit". A NUMBER OF PERSONNEL can be seen
working at the CONSOLES and talking on PHONES. No one
notices as DATA and GRISSOM EXIT through the same door they
entered earlier.
Once outside the Situation Room proper Data and Grissom
quickly made their way to the elevator bank, "I hope these
are still functioning. My guess is we'll have to get a
little closer to the surface before we can contact the
ship," offered Grissom.
Data made a quick check of his subcutaneous communicator to
validate Grissom's assumption, "You are correct, Commander,
my communicator is still not responding." Grissom nodded
and pressed to call button for the elevator as Data kept
watch. The indicator on the wall above the call button
depicted the approach of the elevator car.
"That is strange," said Grissom, "I think this gauge
indicated the approach of a lift even before I hit the
button."
"Since no one else is here to call for a lift, that would
indicate that . . ."
"Oh, no, Data, quick," interrupted Grissom, "We've got to
hide." She quickly surveyed the long hallway and located a
small unmarked doorway on the end opposite the Situation
Room entrance. "There, Data, let's go!" They hurryed over
to the small door. Grissom tried to open it, but it was
locked, "Now, what?"
"Allow me," Data stated as he easily forced the door open
with one hand, as if it were unlocked. They rushed inside,
barely making it before the elevator doors opened.
The room was a small janitor's closet, filled with assorted
janitorial supplies, and little room. Grissom and Data were
forced to practically hug each other to fit in, but they
made due. In silence they listened to a brief conversation
in the corridor. "They're expecting you inside, Sir, the
counterattack is in progress . . ." Footsteps and then the
sound of the Situation Room computer identifying the new
arrival, the metallic voice was too low for them to hear the
name clearly. A door slamming, and then silence.
Data and Grissom waited a few moments to be sure no one was
left in the corridor, then Data spoke, "I think it is clear
now." Data reached for the doorknob, but was stopped by the
touch of Grissom's hand on his.
"Wait, Data," she said in a soft voice, "Just what did you
mean back in Bovmann's office when you said that you cared
for me?"
Data was a moment in answering, "I do not know. I seem to
be experiencing a number of malfunctions where you are
concerned."
Grissom expression went from concern to shame, "Never mind,
Data, I have no right to question you, I'm acting like a
damned schoolgirl. It's just that I'm alittle scared, and I
wanted some reassurance. I wanted to make sure I got to ask
you that question."
"Please, do not appologize, Commander, you have every right
to ask, and you deserve a better answer. I will endeavor to
come up with a proper response. We will discuss it on the
Enterprise. Now, however, I think we should get to the
elevator before someone else enters the corridor."
Grissom smiled and slowly removed her hand from Data 's.
Data listened at the door for a few seconds and then quickly
opened it onto the corridor. No one was present in the
area. They quickly moved from the closet to the waiting
elevator car.
Back on the bridge of Enterprise.
Riker
Status on those missiles, LaForge!
LaForge
They are one quarter of their way to target, Sir. Rising
above the limb of the planet, now. They seem to be
deploying decoys and chafe to throw off the opposition's
tracking systems, Sir.
Riker
Have the opposing defense satellites made any moves yet?
LaForge
No, Sir. They still seem to be trying to acquire their
targets.
(Pause)
Sir, if they start blowing up nuclear warheads in orbit
between us and the planet it may become extremely difficult
to contact and lock on the away team.
Riker
I'm aware of that, Mr. LaForge. Mr. Crusher take over anti-
missile satellites -- now!
(Under his breath)
Come on, Data, report in!
On cue, Data's voice, crackling with static is heard on the
bridge.
Data (on speakers)
Data to Enterprise. Our mission is complete. Request
immediate beam up... do you read me Enterprise?
Riker
(To Crusher)
Belay that last order!
(To Ceiling)
Data, we read you, report!
DATA
We have achieved our goal, Commander, we have the probe data
and evidence that we are not in any way responsible for the
current state of affairs.
Riker heart sank as he listened to Data's words. He didn't
have any excuse for interferring now.
Riker
Transporter room, lock onto Data's signal and beam the Away
Team up immediately!
LaForge
Sir, the satellites are beginning to fire!
Camera reverses angle to show the main screen. Hundreds of
tiny points of light can be seen rising above the right limb
of the planet. Suddenly lances of light streak across the
picture in the direction of the points. Large bursts of
light begin to blossom where the tiny points had been.
Crusher
Standing by to take over command of satellites, Sir.
RIKER
Stand down the virus program, Wes. It's their own doing, we
have no choice but to sit and watch.
In the transporter room Transporter chief O'Brien is
frantically working the controls. Data and Grissom begin to
appear but then fade. Riker's voice is heard over ship's
communications.
Riker (ON speakers)
Do you have them, Chief?!
Chief O'Brien
I'm losing them, Sir! Some kind of sudden energy surge in
the transmission. I'm re-energizing!
The Chief re-sets the controls and tries again. Painfully
slowly the images of Data and Grissom begin to appear and
finally they solidify.
Chief O'Brien
Bridge! I've got them, Sir!
Data and Grissom exit the transporter platform and
immediately exit the room, heading for the bridge.
LaForge
(To Riker)
Several confirmed hits on the missiles, Sir. But they got
allot of decoys too. It's not going to be enough!
Data and Grissom rush in from the turbo lift stage right.
Data heads for his OPS console and relieves the red shirt
that has been manning the station. Grissom stops in her
tracks as she catches sight of the main screen.
Grissom
Oh my God!
Riker
(To Grissom)
That is why we had to get you out of there so fast.
Data
Yes, Sir, we know. We were in the situation room when they
started the war.
Grissom
(Calmly to Riker)
We got all the data we needed, Sir. And we're pretty sure
they weren't interested in us much, until Data and I showed
up. Apparently, this crisis has been brewing for quite a
long time. It's not our fault, Sir, it just happened . . .
something about troop movements in the Western hemisphere.
It's all so senseless.
A bright flash from the main screen causes the bridge crew
to cover their eyes momentarily.
LaForge
(Sad)
That was the space station, they got her this time.
(Pause)
Western hemisphere now launching a counter-strike. Eighty
percent of the anti-missile satellites are destroyed or
inoperative...
(Turning to Riker)
...they're losing it, Sir.
Riker
(Sad)
Not our fault.
(Pause. Angry)
But we sure as hell didn't do anything about it either.
Riker stands and exits the bridge by the turbo lift stage
right, brushing past Grissom as he hurries out. The lift
doors closes behind him.
Andres Castineiras - 1
CHAPTER 7
Scene opens in a dimly lit room. Camera pans to a CLOSE UP
view of Riker staring out a view port in his darkened
quarters. The door chime rings. Riker does not answer or
move. The door slids open and Troi enters the room.
Troi
The door was open. I hope you don't mind.
Still Riker does not move, Troi moves closer and sits ON a
chair across from Riker.
Troi (cont'd)
(Sad)
It's all over, Commander, there is little or nothing left.
All we get is indeterminate life signs through the
radioactive haze.
RIKER continues to look out the view port.
Riker
(Sad and a bit angry)
I had to do it, the Prime Directive left me absolutely no
choices.
(Long Pause)
I failed, Deanna, I can't run a starship . . . not if it
means letting millions of innocent . . .
Troi
(Interrupting. Loud)
. . . The people who started that war were not innocent,
Will, they are guilty, guilty of a hideous crime against
their own people.
(Pause)
The choice you made today was a very tough one, yet you made
it. You showed no indecision, you did what you had to do
out of a sense of devotion. Devotion to ideals that are
often hard to follow.
(Pause. Then Softly)
I know you, Will, sometimes you think that you care too
much, and so you shut off your emotions. You are upset
about the implications of the decision you were forced to
make, that is only natural. You also feel the because you
care so much you won't ever make a good starship Captain.
But I know that it is caring that drives you to be the best
Star Fleet officer you can be, and it is what will allow you
to succeed in that task.
Riker
(To Troi. Angry)
Sure, I made the decision, I upheld the Prime Directive like
a good little soldier!
(Sad. Looking away.)
How do I live with the decision I had to make?
Troi
You upheld the most difficult directive of all, Will, and I
don't know how we live with it, that, unfortunately, isn't
in any regulations manual. We simply have to go on with our
lives.
Riker
But how do we know non-interference is the best way, Deanna,
especially in a case like this?
Troi
It's the best way we know how, Will. How would it have been
if a superior culture stepped in and stopped Earth's Third
World War? Perhaps millions would not have died, but maybe
Earth would have destroyed itself in an even deadlier war
later on instead of learning that war is no answer. There
are just to many variables. There's nothing we could have
done. They had to choose their own way.
Riker
(Deadpan)
Their way was destruction.
Riker had nothing more to say. He was again deep in thought.
Minutes passed as they sat thinking before Riker spoke
again.
Riker
When I was a boy growing up around Prince William Sound my
father used to tell me a story about a disaster that
occurred there hundreds of years before. It seems a large
crude oil tanker ran aground while its drunken Captain was
asleep below decks. An inexperienced third mate made the
wrong move and wound up spilling millions of gallons of
crude oil into the Sound. Millions of birds and hundreds of
thousands of land and sea animals were killed and the area
of environmentally damaged for over a hundred years. I
can't help but feel like that novice mate who made a
disastrous decision.
Troi
But you're not a novice, Will, you know your business better
than most officers I've ever worked with. That Captain and
third mate were charged with delivering a cargo safely, they
failed with tragic results. You were charged with upholding
the most important rule in our society, not with saving a
poor misguided race from destruction, you succeeded.
Riker was still not convinced, he kept his silence. After a
moment A communications whistle sounds in the room. Riker
automatically looks up at the ceiling in the center of the
room, grateful for the break. We hear Data's voice.
Data (On speakers)
Bridge here, Commander. I think you should get up here,
Sir, we have a new development.
Riker and Troi exchange a curious look.
Riker
On my way, Commander.
Riker and Troi head for the door and exit.
Andres Castineiras - 1
CHAPTER 8
Data had taken over in the center seat as soon as Commander
Riker had left the bridge. He wondered why Riker had not
formally given him command, it was not like the Commander.
He had wanted to ask the Counselor her opinion, but she had
left the bridge shortly after Grissom had announced the
death of the planet Home.
Data surveyed the scene on the main viewscreen. Most of the
missiles had exploded, one after another until the face of
the once beautiful planet was covered in flame and smoke.
Fewer and fewer missiles appeared now as the war was coming
to a close. Within minutes the entire planet had been layed
waste. Everything that was happening now was pure overkill.
When the final missile was gone Data stood and walked around
to the upper portion of the bridge. Grissom was bent over
the Science 1 console studying the readings. "Any change,
Commander?"
"No, Sir, still no signs of life, radioactivity in the
vicinity of the planet is increasing, but we are safe in the
Enterprise. The atmosphere is completely ionized, picking
up massive amounts of smoke and debris in the atmosphere as
well. There are fires over fifty percent of the surface and
its spreading. It's not very pretty, Data."
"I see," was all he could say.
"What about you, Data. What are your readings?"
Data thought about the question for a moment and finally
understood, "Ah, you are referring to my . . . malfunction."
Grissom smiled, her first since returning to the ship, and
one of the few Data had seen. "You amaze me, Data. How
could you have risen so high in the chain of command and not
understand the little portion of human nature?"
Data misunderstood, "I was trained in command skills at Star
Fleet Academy, first in my class in command and tactics. I
served as an Ensign for many years under the command of . .
."
"No, Data. Do you see what I mean, you didn't even
understand my implication. You didn't mean to hurt my
feelings, did you, you really like me and you're having a
problem with that."
"I did not intend to injure you in any fashion. I do not
know if I like you, I do not even know if I am capable of
liking at all. I do know that I act, differently around
you." Data almost whispered the last part of his statement.
"It is okay to like someone, Data, isn't it?"
"Yes, I believe it is -- okay, for a human or other
emotional being, but I am an android."
"Sometimes I feel like an android myself, always struggling
to succeed, never allowing myself to become emotionally
involved with anyone. It has always been work first for me.
It's like I have no choice, I set up a goal and blindly go
after it, and I usually succeed."
"But you should not lose sight of your reasons for achieving
any goals. As a human that would include emotional
satisfaction in a job well done. I to have goals, but I
will never feel satisfaction. You should not give that up,
it is part of your human heritage, a part that I wish I
could share."
Grissom was about to reply when she was interrupted by an
alarm buzzer from the sensor panel beside her. The two
Enterprise officers turned as one to see what the problem
was. "Data, I'm reading a vessel approaching on an
elliptical orbit."
"I see it, Pamela," said Data, not realizing he had
addressed her by her first name. He quickly moved back to
the command chair, speaking to the ceiling communications
pickup, "Data to Commander Riker . . ."
Major Wigginson was worried. It had been nearly two hours
since he had attempted to contact Space Station One. Cycler
was now close enough to receive a reply in seconds, yet no
reply was forthcoming. Even more worrisome was the total
silence from Homesian space, he should have been receiving
endless messages of welcome from dozens of space agencies
and private citizens. He could not keep the USV report out
of his mind as he waited for his reply, could it have
something to do with the silence?
Another hour went by with no reply, Wigginson decided to
check the readings ahead. He tapped at his computer
terminal, cutting through to the sensor subsystems, and
requested an optical image of the planet ahead. Slowly the
image began to form, Home filled the frame from end to end,
but something was wrong. Dark splotches appeared all across
the face of the planet, and streaks appeared in strange
formation above the atmosphere. Something was moving at a
high relative velocity across the face of Home and was
showing up on the time exposure as a white streak.
The reality of the situation finally hit him, "Damn," he
muttered to himself. He wiped the image from his screen
with a forceful keystroke. When he had calmed himself
sufficiently he reached for the communications equipment
once again, "This is Major Wigginson of the Cycler 1, is
there anybody out there, please respond, we are approaching
Home and are in need of assistance, can you hear us control
. . ."
Data is at OPS, LaForge is at Engineering, Grissom is
standing by Science 1. Security station is also manned.
Riker enters from turbo lift stage right, Troi is right
behind him. Riker strides over to the center seat and SITS.
Troi takes her position next to him.
Riker
(Formal Military tone.)
What's going on, Mr. Data?
Data
We're picking up a signal, Commander, coming from some sort
of spacecraft on a course towards Home.
(Pause)
It's a distress call of some kind, Sir.
LaForge
Decoding and translating now, Sir.
Riker
Let's hear it, Lt.
The voice of the alien commander starts to come from the
speakers on the bridge. The transmission is FULL OF STATIC.
Alien Commander (On speakers)
...can you hear us control. We have lost all contact,
repeat all contact! What is happening down there? I say
again, we are approaching Home and are in need of
assistance, is anyone there?
RIKER STANDS as the message plays, then TURNS TO LAFORGE.
Riker
I've heard enough, Lt.! Turn that off!
LaForge hits some buttons on his panel and the voice cuts
off.
Riker (Cont'd)
Give me a picture of that ship on the screen, Ensign
Crusher.
Crusher works some controls and the camera goes to reverse
angle showing the main viewer as it changes to a view of a
rotating spaceship. It is primitive by Star Fleet
standards. The ship consists of a main module and a long
boom and is turning end over end in the direction of the
Enterprise's view. Camera ZOOMS on the screen to show the
vessel in closer detail, then back to a MEDIUM SHOT of Riker
gazing at the screen.
Riker
(To Himself)
It Doesn't even have artificial gravity.
(Pause, then in a terse military tone)
Mr. Data, disengage cloaking device. Mr. LaForge, give me a
frequency to that vessel's commander, try to get me two way
visual.
Data
But, Sir, the Prime ...
Riker
(Cutting Data off. Forceful.)
Data, that's a space vehicle in distress, with no where to
go! The Prime Directive does not forbid me from aiding
another space vessel in obvious distress! Besides...
Riker turns to look a Troi sitting besides him. Camera
shows her as she nods her agreement with his assessment and
smiles. Cut to shot of Riker smiling back. Back to a
MEDIUM SHOT showing the bridge crew.
Riker (cont'd)
...they may be the only survivors of a dead race. There are
precedents, Mr. Data.
Data
Aye, Sir. Disengaging cloaking device.
Enterprise saucer section wavers into view FILLING the shot
where there was only a static star field before.
RIKER STANDS looking intently at the MAIN SCREEN which is
OFF SCREEN behind the CAMERA.
LaForge (OS)
Hailing frequency open, Sir. I've managed to tie into their
visual system. It's pretty primitive, but we should get a
picture.
Riker
This is Commander William Thomas Riker commanding the USS
Enterprise representing the United Federation of Planets.
Can we assist you?
CAMERA REVERSES to a view of the main screen. It wavers
until a man can be seen as if he is in a fish bowl. Effect
is like a view of a man standing to close to a wide angle
lens. The shot is reminiscent of a TV broadcast from
today's Space Shuttle. The man is white, about forty years
of age and has about two weeks worth of facial hair growth.
He is waring a Space Force blue coverall with insignia
patches and mission patches all over it. His rank shows up
as Commander. A name tag on his left breast reads
"WIGGINSON". He is the same man we saw at the beginning of
the episode.
Alien Commander
We read you, Enterprise. What is your business here?
Riker
We are on a peaceful scientific mission, Sir.
(Pause. Continues in a more sober tone)
We regret to inform you that there has been a terrible war
on your planet. Do not approach it.
Alien Commander
(Sad yet Angry)
A war you say, I only half believed my sensors. How do I
know you didn't cause this, Riker, I received a report on
your ship a day and a half ago.
Riker
Do you believe that my vessel could cause that much
destruction? You have sensors, look at that mess. It was
caused by massive bombardment by multiple thermonuclear
devices. We do not carry such weapons, we gave them up
years ago.
Alien commander
How should I know what you are capable of, Commander?
Perhaps you have bombs and perhaps you don't.
Riker
If we were hostile why would we even be communicating with
you?
Riker paused and resumed his seat on the command chair,
thinking about his next words. "Listen, you know more about
the political situation on your planet than I do. Can you
really say that this wasn't inevitable? We have documents
on board that clearly indicate a high state of alert long
before we ever entered your solar system, all we want to do
is help you. If get much closer to the planet you'll be
killed by the radiation, let me help you."
Wigginson thought for awhile, turning his face away from the
screen before him. After some contemplation he replied. "I
believe you, Riker, I have no choice but to believe you, we
have no way of changing course, we're locked into a
permanent orbit that takes us between Home and the fourth
planet of our system."
Riker
Very well, prepare to transfer to this vessel, we can assist
you.
Alien Commander
Understood, Enterprise. Standing by to be boarded.
Riker
Well, we won't actually board you... oh, never mind, I'll
explain once you're here, just stay put. Riker out.
(To the ceiling)
Transporter room 3. Lock on to all life forms on the
approaching vessel and transport them over to the
Enterprise.
(To Data)
Data, you're with me. Geordie, you have the bridge.
Riker and Data exit the bridge through the turbolift doors
stage right.
Andres Castineiras - 1
CHAPTER 9
Riker and Data were in the turbolift for a few seconds when
Riker broke the silence, "We have allot of preparations to
make, Data." Data nodded in reply. "I want you to prepare
a Homesian habitat on one of the holodecks to accomodate our
guests, and make sure that they are all escorted directly
there on beam in. Limit all access to our technology, I
want security covered around the clock."
"Yes, Sir, I'll have it all ready by the time the first
group arrives." The lift arrived at the deck containing the
ship's largest holodeck, the computer had interpreted the
conversation on board and determined the proper destination.
Data stepped off the lift and turned to face Riker, "I will
meet you in Transporter room 3." Riker nodded his ascent as
the turbolift doors closed between them.
Riker and Data are standing by the console as the O'Brien
energizes. The alien commander and five others appear. The
OTHERS are dressed in similar overalls of differing colors.
The commander steps forward. The others are escorted out of
the room by various Enterprise personnel in GOLD and BLUE
UNIFORMS.
Alien Commander
Amazing technology!
Riker
(To Alien)
I'm Commander Riker, this is my next in command, Lt.
Commander Data. Your the last six. The rest of your people
are being shown to guest quarters.
Alien Commander
I'm Major Wigginson. Commander of Cycler One. Thank you
for your help.
(Pause. Then sadly)
Just what exactly happened down there anyway, Commander?
Data
(Before Riker can answer)
The Lucrecians fired a missile at your country's space
station. The missile was destroyed, but your country then
decided to launch a full scale counterstrike. The
Lucrecians defense systems failed, but not before destroying
most of your own defense system and your space station.
Before your missiles hit, the Lucrecians launched there own
successful attack.
(Pause)
Your planet is now quite uninhabitable.
Wigginson
They finally did it! Damn!
Riker
Why Wigginson? What could have caused them to do this to
themselves?
Wigginson
My people never did like the Lucs, Commander. Even as we
went out into space together, we still each maintained
separate bases and military hardware. Those of us who came
to space soon learned that we really aren't any different
from the Lucs, but that didn't change anything on the
ground. Political differences. That's all it was, and now
it's come to this!
Riker
And you and your crew are the only ones left?
Wigginson
No, there's about a thousand others on Quarta, the fourth
planet, Lucs and my people are represented. We have a joint
base there.
The transporter room doors open and Grissom enters. She
waits patiently to one side while Riker and Wigginson finish
their conversation.
Riker
We can take you there, and we'll help you keep going.
Perhaps someday you'll be able to re-claim your planet.
Wigginson
Thank you, were are going to need all the help we can get.
Riker extends his hand to Wigginson. Wigginson slowly
comprehends the gesture and shakes Riker's hand firmly.
Riker
Data will show you to your quarters.
Data shows Wigginson out of the room. Grissom confronts
Riker.
Riker
(Before Grissom can speak)
Lt. Commander, I'm sorry I didn't mention it sooner but I
think you did a fine job on the Away Team mission, a damn
fine job. I plan to recommend to the Captain that you be
given Science Officer status and assigned to the bridge
crew.
Grissom is taken totally by surprise by Riker's statement,
her expression brightens and then suddenly takes on that old
businesslike attitude.
Grissom
Thank you, Sir, I want that, more than you could ever know .
. . but I can't accept. I want to go with them, Sir, the
Homesians.
Riker
Is that really what you want, Grissom. It'll be hard,
you'll be under almost primitive conditions. We can't send
along any technology that is far in advance of these
people.
Grissom
I know, Sir, but pioneering blood runs in my veins. An
ancient relative of mine was one of the first casualties of
Earth's early space age. I guess that's why I went into
this field. And no matter how much I want to be Science
Officer, these people need me more.
(Suddenly smiles)
Besides, I'll get a great paper out of this, maybe even a
book!
Riker
(Smiling back at her)
I think I understand, I have some pioners in my family tree
as well. My ancestors originally went to Alaska to build
the Trans-Alaska pipeline and then settled there. My family
soon went into government service and the military. To this
day we carry on the tradition, my father is a civilian
advisor to Star Fleet and I'm . . . well you know that part.
Still, I don't think I'd want to live like my great, great,
great great great grandfather did. But if that's what you
really want, Commander, the assignment's yours, and good
luck to you.
Grissom
I believe the appropriate saying would be "Godspeed",
Commander.
Riker
Yes, I guess that word would be apropos.
(Smiles)
Alright then, Godspeed, Commander Grissom.
Grissom
Thank you, Sir, and, Commander, once they're settled in
here, in a few years perhaps, I'd like to come back and take
you up on that Science Officer offer!
Riker smiles brightly at her as if to say "You've Got it!".
He motions towards the door of the transporter room and they
exit.
Andres Castineiras - 1
CHAPTER 10
CAMERA SHOWS Enterprise saucer section approaching the
fourth planet. It is not as large as Home, and is pinkish
red in color. We hear Riker's log entry as the Enterprise
saucer section moves into orbit around the planet GS IV.
Riker (VO)
Ship's Log, Stardate 43720.8. Commander Riker recording. We
are approaching Gamma Synchnaurus IV. A team of engineers
and scientists has volunteered to accompany the survivors
from the Cycler to the planet and help them to survive and
to build anew. Lt. Commander Pamela Grissom has been placed
in charge of the team, at her own request. Lt. Commander
Data has assisted the team in choosing the proper equipment
to bring with them.
Grissom and Data are standing in front of the transporter
console. Wigginson and some other Homesians can be seen in
the background preparing to beam down. CAMERA CLOSES on
DATA and GRISSOM, their NOSES about one foot apart.
Grissom
(Solemn)
I'm going to miss you, Data, you taught me allot about how
to get ahead ... and how not to.
Data
I will miss you, also, Mr. Grissom. Good luck on your
mission. I know you will succeed.
Grissom smiles at Data, reaches up with her left hand and
touches DATA's left cheek softly and briefly. She then
turns and takes a front position on the platform. Data
takes the controls from the transporter chief and sets
coordinates.
Data
Energizing!
Grissom and the others de-materialize from the chamber. PAN
to Data and ZOOM in on his face as he speaks
Data
(Stage whisper, sad)
You were also my teacher, Lt. Commander Pamela Grissom. You
taught me how to sigh.
Camera stays fixed on Data's almost sad face
Add a scene here where Riker asks Wesley if he would like to
perform a manual docking, Wesley brightens, but then he
refuses the "honor". Riker decides to perform it himself,
for old time sakes.
Scene in space as the Saucer section is re-uniting with the
battle section sometime later. The two sections come
together and move off into space as we . . . Fade Out.
Andres Castineiras - 1
EPILOGUE
Commander William Riker sat alone in a rear booth of ten
forward, the half empty glass of Romulan Ale in front of him
was long since forgotten. The large recreation area was
deserted at this late hour, but Riker, being the first
officer, had access to any part of the ship at any time. He
was deep in thought, reflecting on his first performance in
charge of a starship.
The large pseudo-wooden doors to ten forward slide apart to
admit Captain Jean-Luc Picard. "There you are," he said as
if he were searching for hours before locating his first
officer. Riker smiled knowing full well the Captain had
used the ship's computer to locate his exact position.
Riker was reminded of a story he had heard about the
Captain's first use of that system, and his smile broadened.
"You're up awfully late, Captain." Riker replied.
"I was concerned when you didn't show up for Worf's briefing
on the new weapons systems."
"I needed some time to myself. I've been thinking about
this mission."
"I see." Picard took a seat across the tiny round table
from Riker and placed his hands on the tabletop. "Your
mission will likely become standard fare at the Academy,
Number One, quite an impressive show."
Riker laughed. "I can see it now, How to Kill Five and a
Half Billion Beings in Ten Easy Lessons, by Commander
William T. Riker."
"You didn't kill anyone, Will. Quite the contrary, you
managed to take a very bad situation and salvage it. You
could have walked away from that war and been right by all
standards and regulations, yet you didn't. What you did do
was find a reason to help those people and made it stick.
You didn't let a race die, Number One, you saved one, that
is the part that will be taught to countless new generations
of Star Fleet cadets."
Riker was not totally convinced, "The part that scares me is
that I almost gave the order to stop their war. I came that
close to interfering, and I'm not sure I made the right
decision at that."
"You did make the right decision, Number One, in both
instances. And almost only counts in Centauran Checkers.
*******
At ship's midnight the loneliest part of the Enterprise was
her Main Engineering Core. This particular night was
different however, the huge room was occupied by two
sentient beings, one human and one android. Geordie LaForge
stood over the supine body of Lt. Commander Data studying
the readout on a hand held sensing device.
"You're right, Data, these readings are off slightly from
the last set of data I have on your positronic pathway
emissions. It's not much, but I can't account for their
presence."
"Do you suppose that these deviations could account for my .
. . reactions to Lt. Commander Grissom, Geordie?"
"I don't know, Data, I don't think that anyone short of Dr.
Soong could interpret these readings correctly."
"I have a theory, Geordie. I believe the abnormal patterns
began shortly after I accessed the records of Commander
Grissom, that coupled with the sound of her voice and the
visual input of her form caused me to . . . malfunction."
"But how could she cause the pattern of your pathways to
change? It doesn't make sense, Data."
"I believe that she was someone that Dr. Soong would have
admired, her records and personality must have triggered
some response in my positronic pathways that even Soong did
not expect. I suspect that there is more of him in me than
he ever knew."
"That's great, Data, perhaps you've taken another step
towards being fully human."
"I cannot accept this, Geordie, I must be restored to my
fully functional state."
"Hey, a wait a minute, Data, maybe this was meant to be,
love is no malfunction."
Data was disturbed by the echo of Grissom in LaForge's
words, he closed his eyes as if in pain. "Nevertheless, I
wish to be restored to my former pattern. Will you assist
me in this?"
"If that's what you really want, I think I can do it. Are
you sure, Data?"
"Yes," said Data, "Please proceed." Geordie frowned as he
reached for another instrument on the table beside Data. He
paused to calibrate the instrument before placing it across
Data's forehead. Within seconds the instrument had done its
job.
"That's it, Data. I'm reading your old pattern again. Of
course this may effect your memories of Grissom."
"Of whom," Data asked?
"No one, Data, never mind." Geordie helped Data up from the
bench he was occupying and led him to the door of
Engineering. "I'm going to go to my quarters and catch some
sleep before the day shift begins, what about you?"
"I think I will report to the bridge and check on the night
crew. Thank you, Geordie." LaForge managed a smile before
he walked away from the android, he was quickly out of
sight.
Data walked away from Engineering in the opposite direction.
The corridor was completely empty. He soon came across the
turbolift he was seeking and entered it. "Bridge," he said
to waiting lift, and it began to move at his command.
Data's thoughts drifted, I will never forget you, Pamela,
but I could never withstand the pain any other way.
Andres Castineiras - 1