Second conspiracy
part i
A story by nick Varnau
Based on “star trek:
the next generation”
Created by gene
Roddenberry
Once they could talk, their first question
was,
“Why did you start this [war]?”
And the answer was,
“Me?”
-from “The Forever War,” by Joe Haldeman
Stardate: 41780.2
“We mean you no harm… We seek peaceful
coexistence!”
The words still echoed in the mind of
Captain Jean-Luc Picard, who had stared at the
gestating neck of Commander Remmick, whom he just
mere seconds later obliterated with his phaser,
killing both him and the hideous alien host inside him. It was a task Captain Picard never hoped to do again.
Now he sat on the Enterprise-D, wearing a
nicer uniform, for his other had been spattered with blood and gunk from Commander
Remmick’s explosion. He had never seen the effects of
a high-setting phaser on living tissue in his life.
The way Remmick’s face had melted away, exposing his
skull, eyes and brain still in tact…
Graciously, his first officer, Commander
Will Riker, brought him out of the dwelling thoughts.
“It was Dr. Crusher’s idea to simulate the
blue gill. We had to be sure it would fool everyone, including you,” said
Riker.
Picard looked over at the clean-shaven young man,
his mouth curling into a smile. “That it did, Number One, rest assured!”
Lieutenant-Commander Data stepped forward,
having just received information from one of the bridge’s science stations on
the back wall.
“Captain,” he said, “I have been able to
trace the message Remmick was sending. I believe it
was aimed at an unexplored sector of our galaxy.”
Geordi LaForge, sitting
at the helm, turned around and looked at the android through his VISOR. “Any
idea what the message was, Data?”
“I believe it was a beacon,” said Data.
Picard sat forward. “A beacon?”
“Yes sir. A homing beacon.
Sent from Earth,” said Data.
Picard stared at the android in shock. Then
that means there will be more, he thought.
“Were you able to stop the transmission?”
asked Riker.
“I believe so. However the message has been
repeating itself for the past twenty-two days. It is very likely that their
message was received.”
Picard sat forward and looked out at the stars
passing by on the viewscreen. “Then they’ll be
coming,” he said. “Let’s hope we’ll be ready.”
Outside, in the black vacuum of space,
echoed another transmission, exactly like the once sent from Earth. This
transmission, however, was much more urgent. This transmission was a call to
arms.
* * * * *
Five Years Later…
Stardate: 46132.4
Chief Miles O’Brien cursed as sparks flew
out from the isolinear panel in transporter room
four. During their recent checkup on Starbase 11,
that damned hotshot engineer apparently thought the
Efficiently my backside, thought O’Brien, adding a Klingon curse to
the end of it. Oh sure, the transporters had worked fine for a while, but the isolinear buffers were routed all wrong.
“Leave it to some young engineer to screw
everything up,” said O’Brien aloud. At that moment he noticed the graceful form
of Lieutenant Lefler standing in the doorway with a
case of tools and a smile on her face.
“Hi there,” said O’Brien, suddenly rather
embarrassed, but not too much.
“LaForge sent me
here to help you work on the transporters.”
O’Brien turned toward the young woman and
smiled. “Thank God! I’ve been wrestling this panel for the past two hours and I
still have three more rooms to take care of.”
Lefler smiled. “Well, now that some young engineer
is here, maybe we can double the results.”
O’Brien nervously smiled. “Sorry about
that,” he said. “It’s just that Commander Jennaro…”
“I know,” she said. “You should’ve seen the
mess she left us in engineering.”
They both shared a laugh and got to work.
* * * * *
Riker sat comfortably in the captain’s chair
of the USS Enterprise,
“Did you know that Tholian
brandy wasn’t created by Tholians at all?” she said
to Riker.
Riker, who like his friend Worf had always found the drink to sweet, said, “No I
didn’t, Data.” He smiled as he teased her. She smiled back.
“I never was good at bridge small talk,” she
said. “But I hate awkward silences.”
“You’re doing it again,” said Riker.
“Doing what?” said Troi
with a grin.
“You’re showing your gums when you grin.”
That made her smile even wider. He always
found the tiniest details about her and managed to point them out as if they
were the cutest things he’d ever seen. Only Imzadi,
she thought.
“Sir,” said Lieutenant Andrews, who was
manning the tactical station.
“Yes Andrews, what is it?” said Riker,
assuming an authoritative tone.
“We have a priority one message coming in
sir.”
Riker looked at Deanna. Priority one meant
Captain’s eyes only.
“Wake the Captain,” he said.
“Sir, the message is for Lieutenant Worf.”
Andrews looked very perplexed by this.
Equally perplexed was Commander Riker, who scratched at his beard and exchanged
a glance at Deanna.
“Worf receiving a
priority one?” he said. Deanna merely shrugged. Riker tapped his communicator. “Riker to Worf.”
After a few seconds of silence, the communicator
came back with Worf’s deep voice, “Worf here.”
“You’ve got an incoming message, Lieutenant.
Priority one.”
There was a pause. Clearly Worf was confused by this as well. Worf
finally replied, “Understood. Worf out.”
Riker turned back around and gazed at the
starlit screen again, wishing he could be at the receiving end of the
conversation taking place in Worf’s quarters.
* * * * *
Worf had requested a hard metal bed for his
quarters. However, Starfleet was for whatever reason unable to install one for
him. He was stuck with a bed that was… comfy, something a Klingon should never
be subjected to.
He rolled out of his bed after severing
communications with Commander Riker and turned on the screen at the opposite
end of the room, sitting down in the strangely-formed chair known as a hoj’Pa, which could only fit the needs of a Klingon.
Needless to say, it was Worf’s favorite chair.
The screen came on and instantly Worf recognized the face of his own brother, Kurn. From the looks of the background, he was aboard a
different ship than when he had seen him last. As always, Worf
was incredibly pleased to see his brother.
“Kurn!” he said.
“Worf,” said Kurn, in a rather urgent tone. “This line may not be
secure, so I must be very brief. Something is happening in the Klingon Empire.
No one is sure yet what. But I believe members of my crew are looking to betray
me. I need your help now more than ever, brother.”
Without any hesitation, Worf
sat up straight and said, “What will you have me do?”
“We are currently headed under strange
orders for Jelaffa-Prime.”
“That’s a Federation planet.”
Kurn nodded, and his image began to flicker. “I
believe that… not sure… can’t be… under attack… assistance needed…”
Suddenly, the screen went blank, and Worf realized his own brother may be either under attack or
worse – dead!
* * * * *
Captain Picard sat
at the head of the conference table. Seated around the table were
his senior staff, including Commander Riker, Counselor Troi, Dr. Crusher, Lieutenant Worf,
Lieutenant Commander Data, and Lieutenant Commander LaForge.
Picard stirred his traditional morning mug of hot
Earl Grey tea while he digested everything his Klingon chief of security had
just told him about the message mere hours ago.
Finally, he looked up at Data. “Mr. Data how long to Jelaffa-Prime?”
“At maximum warp approximately four hours,
seventeen minutes,” said the android.
“Number One?” said the Captain to Riker.
“The Klingon government hasn’t exactly been
stable since their deals with the Romulans a couple years ago as well as the
resulting civil war. It’s still quite a mess.”
“But we’ve been helping them rebuild their
empire,” said Troi. “There haven’t been any hostile
Klingon actions since the Romulans left.”
“However,” said Worf,
“Kurn did say that something strange was going on
within the empire, and that even members of his crew were affected.”
Picard took a sip of tea. “What would there be of
value to the Klingons on Jelaffa-Prime?”
Data cocked his head. “Jelaffa-Prime
has one small strategic advantage in that it is relatively close to the Gennaro system, which holds one of the Federation’s largest
shipyards. Population seven billion. It is also
well-known as a myth among the Federation much the like of the
twentieth-century’s Area 51. It is believed that Jelaffa-Prime
holds a ship testing site as well as a facility for other military accessories,
such as phasers, or the rumored Thalaron
radiation weapons.”
“So supposing they are there,” said LaForge.
Riker completed his sentence. “That would
give them a new edge in a possible war with us, the Romulans… who knows?”
“And if there’s nothing there?” asks Picard.
Crusher sat forward. “Then they take the
planet, build a stronghold and take over the Gennaro
system, killing or enslaving seven billion people.”
Worf growled at that. “If war is what the
Klingons intend,” he said, “then enslaving will not occur. It is not our way to
take prisoners.”
“Well what are your feelings on this, Worf?” asked LaForge.
The Klingon lowered his gaze to the table. Troi could sense the raging emotion in the Lieutenant. The confusion. The turmoil.
Finally, Worf
simply said, “If there are any two things I know of myself, it is that I am a
Klingon, and I am a Starfleet officer. While I will never give up my heritage,
I will never betray my family or my friends.”
Picard nodded at Worf’s
noble words. “Mr. Worf, you have friends here. And
seeing from last night’s message, a member of your family is in need. Mr. Data, set course for Jelaffa-Prime,
maximum warp.”
“Aye sir,” came the
android’s quick response. Everyone stood up and silently dismissed themselves
to their respective stations. Worf stopped the
Captain as he was walking out.
“Sir.”
“Yes Mr. Worf.”
Mr. Worf nodded
once and said, “Thank you, sir.”
Picard smiled and said, “You would have done the
same for me.”
Picard turned away and walked out.
Yes, thought Worf. I would have.
* * * * *
Stardate: 46133.0
Fix one thing, another thing breaks. Fix
that thing, something else falls apart. It was a constant cycle of headache for
Miles O’Brien, as he continued to slave over the still-inoperable transporters.
What the hell is this? A
Constitution-Class ship?
Lefler had managed to double his time, but things
just continued to break or fail to respond or some other damned malfunction.
Personally, Lefler had never heard so much swearing,
but she had never seen O’Brien drunk.
A voice came over the intercom. “Picard to O’Brien.”
O’Brien tapped his communicator. “O’Brien here.”
“We’re approaching Jelaffa-Prime,
prepare for a landing party to transport.”
“Sir,” said O’Brien, closing his fist,
“You’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way. None of the transporters are
working right now.”
“They still aren’t fixed?” said Picard.
“No, I need more people.”
“I’ll get LaForge
on it,” said Picard. “In the meantime, we’ll use the
shuttles. Picard out.”
O’Brien scowled. Finally, some more helping
hands!
* * * * *
On the bridge, the blue planet of Jelaffa-Prime was coming into view. No ships were to be
seen. Just a lifeless blue rock.
“They could be cloaked,” said Riker. “Maybe Kurn isn’t alone.”
“Captain,” said Worf.
“I’m detecting Klingon life signs on the planet. There seem to be many. They
are gathered in what appears to be a series of bunkers underneath the planet’s
surface.”
Riker turned to Picard.
“Shall I have a look?”
Picard nodded, saying, “Make it so.”
Riker stood up and tugged at his red tunic.
He made his way to the turbolift and said, “Mr. Worf, you’re with me. We’ll take the Copernicus.”
“Will,” said Troi.
Riker stopped at the turbolift entrance. “Be careful.
Something’s not right with this picture.”
Riker nodded. “I smell it too.”
He stepped into the turbolift
and the doors closed. Troi had the strangest feeling
that she would never see Riker or Worf again.
* * * * *
The shuttlecraft Copernicus shot out of the shuttle
bay like a Ferengi out of a Cardassian
gay bar. It curved its trajectory and shot straight toward the planet.
“We should land on grid fourteen,” said Worf. “That is far enough away from the hot zone, where our
tricorders can safely scan the surroundings.”
“Agreed,” said Riker, and moved the controls
in for a safe landing on the semi-flat surface of Jelaffa-Prime’s
grid fourteen, which was a large blue rock with a lighter blue sky and dark
blue clouds. Riker instantly decided it was a poorly-decorated planet.
They stood atop a plateau that was clearly
meant for landings of some sort. Directly in front of them there appeared to be
a ramp of some sort. Riker noted the landing pad had clearly not been used for
at least a few decades, as it was showing numerous cracks in the surface. He
began to wonder how stable the ground was, and if they should’ve landed there.
They held their phasers,
set to stun, at the ready and brought up their tricorders.
Instantly, Riker said, “That’s funny. If the
tricorder’s right, it would mean the Klingons are
coming up the ramp.”
Worf and Riker both widened their eyes and
readied their phasers. Immediately they were greeted
with maximum-setting fire from Klingon disruptors. They both rolled in opposite
directions, leaving the enemy fire hitting the shuttlecraft and the ground
around it. It wasn’t long until the ground buckled and that whole section of
the pad fell off, shuttle and all. Now Riker and Worf
had no way of escape. They were out-numbered and out-gunned.
Then, suddenly, the firing stopped. Out from
the crowd of Klingons emerged Kurn. Worf immediately lowered his phaser
and approached his brother. Kurn raised his
disruptor.
“I’m glad you came, brother,” said Kurn. “Soon, maybe you’ll be one of us after all.”
Riker was furious. “Worf
has already sworn his loyalty to Starfleet.”
Kurn turned his attention to Riker. “Ah, the great Commander Riker! The one
who could have been. We had such big plans for you, until you and that
Captain of yours brought down our leader.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
said Riker. “Neither I nor Captain Picard have ever
done anything to hurt the Klingon empire. We have nothing but the utmost
respect for your people.”
Kurn gave Riker a small smile. “You pathetic human. Do you really think a Klingon would be
smart enough to take a prisoner?”
Then it hit Riker. He wasn’t talking to Kurn at all. He was talking to one of the parasitic aliens
that had infected various Starfleet officials five years ago! These were the
people who invaded Commander Remmick, who had caused
Riker and Picard to rip Remmick
apart! Now they were back to avenge their dead, only this time, they were using
the Klingons!
Suddenly realizing this horrible truth,
Riker said to Kurn, “I will never become one of you.”
Kurn laughed at that. “We don’t want you to be
our host!”
Riker was confused by that statement. What
other purpose would Riker or the Federation serve for
these creatures.
As if reading his thoughts, Kurn said, “We want you, all of you, to die!”
To be continued
About the Author
Nick Varnau started his writing career at
the age of seven when he received the Young Authors Award for his story “Elvis
the Eskimo and the Eskimo Queen.” It wasn’t until years later that Nick
discovered that his passion was, in fact, writing. He has written for two
newspapers and edits and writes for an online newsletter. He has also written a
number of short stories, including “