Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!spool.mu.edu!bloom-beacon.mit.edu!noc.near.net!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTIONS (TNG/BSG crossover - sequel to DARK DAWN) Intro. ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:04:12 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 96 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com _DECEPTIONS_ NOTICE: THIS STORY MAY BE DISTRIBUTED FREE OF CHARGE BUT MUST NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. THE NOTICE FOLLOWING THE SYNOPSIS AND DEDICATION MUST ACCOMPANY THIS STORY, IF DISTRIBUTED. AUTHOR: B.J. Henry _Synopsis_ During the first Federation Membership Conference for the refugee Colonists, held on the planet Pacifica, two Chief Negotiators are mysteriously killed while on board the Enterprise. Later, others are found dead and a spate of unusual malfunctions plague the ship, while the Conference attendees and the crews of both the U.S.S. Enterprise and the Battlestar Galactica share similar, horrifying nightmares. Now the Captains and crews of both flagships must work together to solve the murders, discover the secrets behind an unusual Betazoid Ambassador, and come face to face with what could be the greatest threat that the galaxy has ever encountered... an evil presence that could ultimately lead the Federation and the Colonial Fleet to war. _Dedication_ Here is the long-awaited sequel to my first story "Dark Dawn". I must say that I was incredibly surprised at the overwhelmingly positive feedback that I got from readers regarding that first story! So that put the pressure (grin grin) on me to bang out the sequel AND (hopefully) make it worth the read! It took me 6 months to do it! When I originally wrote "Dark Dawn", I expected that I could stretch the story out into a trilogy of sorts, as I firmly believe that if such an interaction between these two universes WERE to really occur in fiction-land, it couldn't be wrapped up in a single, simple story. Thus, in the typical "A-B-A" format, I present the 2nd of 3 stories involving the cross-over between the characters of "Battlestar Galactica" and "Star Trek: The Next Generation." Being the "middle" story, I hope that there is enough transition from the first story and enough to lead to the "finale" story, tentatively titled "Prophets of Kobol". "Deceptions" is somewhat "darker" in tone than "Dark Dawn", as is true of many "B"-pattern offerings. Expect the final "A" story to be a "rip-roaring" conclusion to the triology! If you're curious, about why "Star Trek: The Next Generation" and "Battlestar Galactica?" I will reiterate what I wrote in my dedication for "Dark Dawn": "I've been an avid fan of both shows! After watching all the episodes of each show, multiple times, I began to see some similarities and contrasts between the characters. I also saw personality traits that I thought would be interesting to explore and I envisioned dialog that could be exchanged, all to bring out some unique but familiar perspectives to these fictional people." And so, since we have now come to the end of the run of "Star Trek: The Next Generation", I wish to dedicate this story to all the TNG fans out there around the world. In memory of ST:TNG * 9/87 - 5/94 * "All Good Things..." Stardate: 47988.1 And in anticipation of "Star Trek:Generations" 11/94. Keep on Trekkin'! B.J. Henry, 6/14/94 A/K/A Dax. Technobabble Lover. GDAPN!/BSEB/MORN! bjhenry@delphi.com ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!noc.near.net!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTIONS (Prologue) ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:05:34 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 95 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com _ DECEPTIONS_ by B.J. Henry P R O L O G U E He carefully embraced the instrument of his salvation, intermittently turning it over in his hands, as he rocked back and forth, back and forth. "Soon, soon. Patience... After this... no... more...no... more... no... more..." he chanted to himself, with eyes closed and beads of moisture beginning to form on his forehead. He suddenly shook his head, cleared all thoughts from his mind, meticulously placed the gemonite blade into its velvet case, and slid it back into its hiding place. He then pulled the coverlet over his body and immediately fell into a restless slumber. A figure stepped out of the shadows in the man's cabin aboard the Battlestar Galactica, with eyes glowing red, and an angry hot breath escaping through his lips. It directed it's thoughts to the man who lay tossing and turning on the bed. "You WILL make them ALL come to me." "Come...? To... you...? No!... no more... no... more..." the sleeping man mumbled. "You WILL do it!" "Will... do... it..." The figure then stepped back into the shadow and became one with it. --o-- Captain's Log. Stardate: 47344.2 "The Enterprise has arrived in the area near Proxima Centuri, where we first encountered the Battlestar Galactica and the Colonial Fleet. We are here to transport a number of their delegates and military Officers to a scheduled Federation membership conference to be held shortly on the planet Pacifica. It is hoped that by the conclusion of this conference, the Federation will not only vote positively to grant full membership status to the Colonial refugees, but will begin to secure certain trade and treaty agreements with their people." --o-- Adama's Journal: "We greatly anticipate the arrival of the Federation starship Enterprise, a ship commanded by a man for whom we owe a great debt. His arrival will signal to us, the beginning of a new era for our people. An era where we will see the fulfillment of the prophesy that we should meet and join together with the lost Thirteenth Tribe, Humans who now reside on the planet Earth. Our people are preparing to vote to choose what they wish to do with their lives, and I expect that most will elect to travel to Earth, thus bringing us full circle with our brethren. The sooner the better, as many have grown restless at the delay in settling them. I expect this issue to be resolved during the membership conference that the Council and I will attend, to be held on a planet in this area of space, known as 'Pacifica'. How prophetic that we begin our process of healing on a planet whose name is identical to that of the Galactica's sister ship, one of eleven to perish during our escape from the Cylons. I await the start of this historic event with a happy heart." ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!usenet.ins.cwru.edu!eff!news.duke.edu!solaris.cc.vt.edu!uunet!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTIONS (part 01/10) ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:11:53 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 1030 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com C H A P T E R I She was a ship of war, proudly bearing the scars of her valor. She was built like a mighty tank, a Trojan horse with armor that could withstand the most intense laser bolts that a Cylon Baseship could hurl at her. Her parts and personnel worked together like a well-oiled machine, her surfaces were exposed and unadorned, for practicality and ease of access. But she could move swiftly and smoothly through the emptiness of space, unencumbered by her bulk, like a great whale might move through the depths of a mighty ocean. Her twin landing bays beckoned the weary Warrior to her cozy lair, a welcome site after a battle. Her Bridge was sparse and mechanical but functional, providing it's occupants with a sweeping view of what lay ahead. Capable of light speed, this massive vessel, the Battlestar Galactica, was all that survives as the pride and joy of the Colonial Fleet. Nearby, providing a unique contrast, was another ship, a ship of peace. Her graceful curves belying the powerful thrust that her twin engines could supply. Equipped with the latest technology, she could battle with the best, while deceptively disguised as just another, benign research and exploratory vessel. Like a swan on a gentle lake, she could glide at impulse power, barely rippling the fabric of space. Yet at the first sign of danger, she could propel herself forward, head first, with the aerodynamic elegance of a sleek cat in pursuit of prey. Her Bridge was a model of efficiency, carefully hidden beneath smooth black panels, that resembled more a Cubist's aesthetic vision of decor rather than a starship's computer access terminals. As the flagship of the Federation, the U.S.S. Enterprise was also the pride and joy of Star Fleet, one of only a few Galaxy class vessels in service. The two ships sat side by side in contrast and in complement, as their two Commanders sat separately, pondering over their duties in their respective offices. These men could themselves provide an observer with some insight into their differences and similarities. The Commander of the Battlestar Galactica was a seasoned fighter, a man who had seen many battles in his day. He was a family man and a religious man. His cosmopolitan roots, coupled with a touch of formality, endowed him with a commanding presence that made others stand up and take notice. A man who valued diplomacy, but who would not shy away from suitable military might when needed. His presence was like that of a great grizzly bear, with burning eyes that could induce fear and respect, but that could also transform at a moment's notice, into those of a child's cuddly teddy bear of old. The Captain of the Enterprise, wed only to his ship, was a seasoned explorer and a well respected humanist at heart. Intensely private, his provincial upbringing was meticulously guarded behind a rigid formality and carefully polished sophistication. He also knew the value of diplomacy when needed, yet preferred to reason rather than fight. He possessed a charm and intensity that could make the strong quiver and the infatuated, swoon. And so these two men came together again, to work out the details of their next assignments. "Captain, I am very glad to see you again. We're fortunate that your superiors have permitted you to at least participate, if only for a short time, in our negotiations," Adama noted. "The feeling is mutual Commander. We're here to offer our services. Star Fleet realized that due to the number of delegates that you plan on sending, my ship was the largest available to accommodate them. Of course, we also have the means to get you to the Conference site on Pacifica in a timely fashion, seeing that your fastest ships are only capable of light speed, equivalent to our warp one," Picard replied. "Yes, our scientists are still fascinated by this technology that you call 'warp speed'. If only we had access to such technology." "Perhaps the Federation will agree to work with you to develop such a capability, particularly since you were well on your way to discovering it on your own." "I certainly hope so Captain. It would surely reduce our almost infinite universe down to a more manageable size," Adama chuckled. "So, when will your people be ready to be underway?" Picard asked. "Well, very soon I expect. Presently, we are preparing to hold the final vote on our people's wishes, specifically, whether we should choose to formally apply for Federation membership or not." "And how do you feel the vote will go?" "That, I do not know. Most of our people however, expressed much excitement when they were shown the pictures of Earth, so I expect that most will agree to settle there. Unfortunately, many of our political types have openly voiced their reservations, and I believe they seem to prefer the status quo." "I see. Well, keep me informed on your status and then we can prepare to be on our way." "I will Captain and again, I thank you for your cooperation and understanding." "You are most welcome, and to end on a more positive note, I just wanted to say that I believe that you and your people will enjoy the beauty of Pacifica. If anything, it should provide you with a much needed vacation of sorts." "I'm looking forward to arriving there." "Very good. Picard out." --o-- The Officer's Club aboard the Battlestar Galactica was nearly empty but for a few Warriors. The small viewscreen built into the wall was droning incessantly with talk show interviews and audience participation programs. Lieutenants Boomer, Jolly and Greenbean sat around a table near the viewscreen, trading war stories, insults, and exaggerated explanations of their latest escapades. The interview program that was currently being broadcast by the Inter-Fleet Broadcasting, or more commonly known as the "IFB", abruptly ended and segued to a commercial. Boomer casually looked up at the screen and watched in fascination. "These are pictures of Earth, the jewel of the United Federation of Planets. Here, you can experience an almost infinite variety of individuals, tastes and styles, with technology designed to free you from the stresses of everyday life. A cashless society, where your every desire can be fulfilled." The images of Earth suddenly switched to pictures of different Star Fleet vessels and their crews. The narrator continued, "Protected by Star Fleet and home to the headquarters," shift to photo of San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge, "of the Federation, the planet Earth can provide you and your family with security and comfort that will rival that of your former Colony." Shift to a textual image of a ballot. "When the time comes, vote YES for your Colony to join the Federation. This message was sponsored by the 'Citizens for Federation Membership'." Fade to black. "Boy," Boomer exclaimed, "what a sell job. I'm telling you, they make Earth look like the only planet in the universe." "Yeah well have you seen the commercial that trashes Earth?" Jolly remarked with a chuckle. "No, I think I missed that one. Considering how many of these things they've run, I'm surprised I haven't seen it," Boomer replied. "Well those ads are NOTHING compared to the one by that group who wants to go back," Greenbean added. "Huh? What group? Go back where?" Jolly exclaimed. "Back to the Colonies," Greenbean responded. "Who the hell wants to go back there?" Jolly continued. "Believe it or not, alot of people," said Greenbean. "And how do they propose to do that?" Boomer interjected. "Oh, I heard that they want to join up with some mercenaries and ex-Star Fleet types, assemble an armada, and head back through the void." "That's crazy. They'd be slaughtered," Boomer replied. "Not only slaughtered, but they'd end up drawing the whole damn Cylon Empire back here," Jolly added. "Speaking of Cylons, whatever happened to Baltar? I know he turned tail and ran as usual, but have they tracked him?" Greenbean asked. "Seems Baltar ran into a lucky break," Boomer began. "I heard that the scanner frequencies on his Baseship somehow triggered the entrance to a previously unknown passageway or shortcut to the border of Federation space. In fact, the Star Fleet folks are busy trying to reproduce those frequencies to open the passage up again. They're mighty worried that this wormhole is being used covertly by their enemies." "Passageway, huh? You mean after all these yahrens, with all the technology that these people have and they're just now finding shortcuts??" Jolly quipped. "Seems they spent most of their time perfecting faster means of travel," Boomer said, after taking a swallow of his ale. "Yeah, like somehow, miraculously, going faster than light speed," Greenbean added sarcastically. "Actually, Commander Data, the Second Officer aboard the Enterprise, attempted to explain that to me and he claims that in reality, their ships are NOT going faster than light. He said something about their engines being able to generate a 'warp field' or 'warp bubble' or something like that. I don't know. All I care about is whether we can get there from here in one piece!" Boomer remarked. "That's DEFINITELY the most important part, especially when you look at the way YOU fly a Viper, Boom Boom," Lt. Greenbean teased. "Hey hold on guys. Look," Jolly interrupted, "there's the ad." On the viewscreen was a young, brown-haired man, obviously from the planet Taurus, standing in front of a row of the Twelve Colonial flags. He looked straight at the camera while calmly but firmly saying, "Yes, we welcome you to join us in our effort to take our worlds back, to take our system back. We have the courage. We have the fire power. We need YOU. Do you want to go around for the rest of your lives running from system to system? Living like animals packed aboard a freighter? Dumped on strange worlds where Humans have no control? Vote NO for Federation membership. Vote NO for scattering ourselves on alien worlds. Vote YES to maintain the Council of the Twelve and OUR cultures. Vote YES to take back your destiny." The man disappeared and a voiceover then said, "Paid for by members of 'Return Now!', a non- profit organization." Fade to black. Stunned, Boomer said, "Looks like trouble." "Yeah, you're telling me. Does the Skipper know about this?" Jolly asked. "I don't know but I think that he, the Colonel, AND the Commander ought to be told," Boomer replied. ----- Casseopia impatiently paced back and forth in front of a row of lockers in the Galactica's crew quarters, her arms folded close to her body. "Starbuck, we really need to take the time to talk," Casseopia began. "About what?" Starbuck replied with confusion. "About US," Casseopia said. Starbuck sighed as he realized that yet another argument was about to begin. "Come on Cass. I mean, haven't we been through this before?" "Yes we have, but things have changed and I want to know how that will affect our relationship." "Whaddya mean? I don't see where..." "Well I do. Tell me Starbuck, do you plan on going to Earth to live? What's going to happen to the Colonial Warriors? What about the Galactica? What about MY job? What about me?" "Well... I don't know, I've thought about it. We still haven't heard the final word on what will happen to the Colonial Warriors. I think they did say that we might be able to join Star Fleet, but see, I don't think that THAT'S my style. I'm a Warrior and Star Fleet doesn't seem too interested in Warriors." "That's just it Starbuck and that's why we have to sit down and talk about this seriously." A little irritated, Starbuck responded, "Right now Cassie, I can't, and not just because of what's happened. It's just that... well, I really haven't decided yet." "Decided what? Whether you're going to leave your job or me?" "Hey come on, that's not fair." "Isn't it? Well when you're finished 'deciding', you know where to find me, otherwise, don't bother." Casseopia then stormed out of the crew quarters. "Hey Cass, wait! Come on." ----- Boxey sat on the floor with his robot daggit and watched while his father pulled his civilian clothes out of a drawer and neatly placed them in a metal suitcase. "Dad, can I come with you to the Enterprise? Can I?" the young boy begged. "I don't know Boxey, it may be really boring," was the Colonial Captain's reply. "But I heard there were loads of kids on the Enterprise. Ones who are my age," he insisted. Apollo stopped momentarily, placed his hands on his hips, and sighed as he began to consider the idea. "Actually, that is true. I don't think they'll mind one more child. Besides, you really do need to be with children your own age." "Then I can go?" Apollo began to chuckle and shake his head at his son's uncanny ability to charm. "Sure, you can go, sport." "And Muffit too?" "Yes, Muffit can go too." "YAY!" Boxey shouted, and he jumped up and ran over to hug his father. Muffit began to bark excitedly, and then he finally decided to hobble over and join in. ----- Apollo walked into the Officer's Club, grabbed Lieutenant Boomer, and motioned him off to the side, away from the others in the room. He then whispered, "Hey look Boomer, what I'm about to say is coming from the heart. Of all the Warriors who'll be staying behind here, you're the ONLY one who I can trust to take charge, so... I'm officially putting you in command of Blue Squadron." "Gee thanks Apollo. I mean, you go flying off to party on some recreation planet, with beautiful beaches, beautiful oceans, and I assume, beautiful women, and I'm stuck here to mend the fences and watch the herds," Boomer teased. "Seriously, Boomer. I meant what I said." "Yeah, I know, thanks. I won't let you down Captain." "I know you won't. Look, take care, okay?" Apollo said, grabbing Boomer's inner forearm. "Yep and don't do anything I wouldn't do," Boomer replied, completing the Warrior's handshake by grasping Apollo's inner forearm in return. "And the same to YOU buddy," the Captain said with a chuckle. "Don't think I don't hear about what goes on around here when I'm away on a mission." "Huh?" Boomer said, feigning ignorance and looking up at the ceiling. "Don't know WHAT you're talking about..." "See ya." Apollo replied as he turned and headed for the door. Boomer reached out, caught the Captain's arm, and said, "Oh, and one other thing I forgot to tell you. Ever hear about that group that calls themselves 'Return Now!'?" Apollo thought for a moment and then answered, "I'm not sure, the name sounds familiar..." "Well to make this quick, they plan on going back to the Colonies." "What?" "That's right. A bunch of us just saw their commercial on the IFB. They're recruiting. Just wanted to let you know," Boomer noted. Apollo sighed and responded, "You know, after all we've been through to get here, and our people ACTUALLY want to go back?" "Yeah. I'm just afraid they may try to instigate something here while the Commander and the Council are gone." "I see what you mean. Look Boomer, I think you're responsible enough to handle it. Do what you can. The most important thing right now is for us to get through these negotiations, get a 'yes' vote from the Federation on our application for membership, and then go from there. We gotta do this thing one step at a time. I don't want to start jumping ahead of the game by trying to predict what MIGHT happen later on down the road. Just hold down the fort for me buddy, okay?" "I'll try to do the best I can Apollo. Take care of yourself and good luck," Boomer solemnly said. "And good luck to you too, Boom Boom." --o-- Jean-Luc Picard stood in the Transporter Room, with arms held closely to his sides, as he watched the twinkling beam begin to take shape. When the beam ceased, the man who now appeared, dressed in a close-fitting navy blue and silver-trimmed uniform, stood shaking slightly as he took a deep breath to force back the nausea and dizziness he felt. "Commander Adama, welcome again aboard the Enterprise," Picard said jovially. Adama took another deep breath before he spoke. "Thank you Captain. I AM in one piece, am I not? I feel a slight dizziness." Picard quickly stepped up to the transporter pad and assisted the man down the steps. "You should be fine Adama. The effects of the transport are only temporary. Unfortunately, some feel it more than others. After a while, we all get used to it. Actually, I'm glad that you agreed to at least try it. You'll find that it is much more efficient than a shuttle." "Efficient perhaps, but highly disorienting, Captain," Adama managed. "However, seeing that I made it here intact, I expect that I will survive." Picard chuckled and agreed, "Yes Commander, I believe you will. Please, let me show you to your quarters. I am certain that you will find them most luxurious." "Thank you Captain. Oh, and I will need to have access to one of your communications terminals so that I can contact my Commanding Officer, Colonel Tigh." "Of course, there is one in your quarters. If you wish, we can establish a secure channel between you and your ship as well." "That would be much appreciated." ----- "Captain, the U.S.S. Victory has arrived with Admiral Baird and a number of Federation Ambassadors and delegates. They're ready to transport at our earliest convenience," Riker reported, over the intercom to the Captain's Ready Room. "Very good, Number One. Signal the Victory that we're ready to bring the Admiral on board. I will meet him shortly in Transporter Room 3. Also, coordinate the transport of the delegates with the Transporter Chief. Oh, and one final thing, inform the Captain of our best wishes on his next assignment," Picard added. "Aye sir." ----- The transporter beam activated and the resulting blue-white light slowly coalesced into a moderately tall, somewhat paunchy, gray-haired man dressed in an Admiral's uniform. "Jonathan, good to see you again! My God, how long has it been?" Jean-Luc Picard beamed, as he firmly grasped Admiral Baird's outstretched hand and motioned him towards the exit to the corridor. The two men began to walk and talk excitedly. "Jean-Luc, it's been way too long, you old devil, and what the hell are you still doing here anyway? Didn't they offer you a position as Commandant of Star Fleet Academy?" "How did you...?" "Come on Jean-Luc. You know nothing's a secret at HQ. We all want to know when you plan on passing the torch to the kids and stop all this running around from system to system. It's high time for you to get on with the REAL happenings in Star Fleet." "My, my, my, you haven't changed one bit, have you?" Picard chuckled. "You don't have to worry about me my friend, I'm very happy where I am, thank you." "You can't be serious." "As serious as I can get. So... moving on to a more pleasant topic... how's Arlene and the kids?" Picard asked, quickly changing the subject. "Arlene's just fine. In fact, she's just been promoted to 'Director of Fleet Information Services'. Would you believe it? And this for a woman who almost managed to flunk every composition course she took at the Academy!" Baird remarked with a laugh. "Oh and by the way I'm a grandfather again, to a little boy, Jonathan J. Baird the third!" he proudly added. "Congratulations. I'm really happy for you Jonathan." "Well I'm not happy for you, Jean-Luc. You still haven't told me why you passed up that promotion." "Jonathan, not again..." "No really. At least give me something that I can pass along to you know who, so he can get off my back." "Picard let out a long sigh and shook his head in resignation. "Boothby...he's at it again," he mumbled under his breath. "Really Jonathan... it's just that, well... as I said before, I'm very happy where I am right now and I'm really not a 'political type', if you know what I mean." "I see... just as I figured. Well, I just hope you know what you're doing, old friend. I feel blessed for what I have... my career, my family." "Believe me when I tell you that there is NO doubt in MY mind. Besides, you've lived a charmed life ever since the day I met you. Record-breaking promotions, youngest Admiral..." "Well, they offered ME the position of Commandant of the Academy, Jean-Luc. It's official. No more 'Acting'. I can start when I'm through here." "And you plan on taking it?" "Damned RIGHT I'm taking it! I made a bargain with an old acquaintance of mine a long, long time ago, back when we were at the Academy. I promised to enjoy my life to the fullest and I don't plan on stopping now." The two men finally arrived at the door to the guest quarters. "Ah... here we are," Picard observed, as he punched a few buttons on a panel next to the door. "I hope you find that your quarters are adequate." "More than adequate Jean-Luc," came the response, as the Admiral stepped inside the cabin and spun around to admire the spaciousness of the room. "You know, I actually envy your having command of a Galaxy Class ship. Sure beats those old tubs we used to tool around in back in the old days, doesn't it?" "You'll get no argument from me, although I do sometimes miss those tubs now and then. These larger vessels are well appointed, true, but sometimes I find them a bit impersonal." "You can reminisce all you want Picard, but give me a big, fast ship and a star to guide me and I'll be in seventh heaven." Picard shook his head and laughed. "Still the same old J. J. Listen, if there's anything, and I mean ANYTHING you need, just call. Good enough?" "Aye, aye Captain." "I'll see you later this evening at the banquet. You will be able to attend?" "Wouldn't miss it for the world, Jean-Luc." ----- Jean-Luc Picard sat in his Ready Room reviewing the crew's leave schedule when Lieutenant Worf's voice boomed over the intercom. "Captain, the Galactica's Alpha Shuttle, with the Colonial Council of the Twelve, is requesting permission to dock." "Very good Mister Worf. Bring them in the Main Shuttle Bay. Number One, Mister Worf, Counselor Troi, would you accompany me to the Shuttlebay? Mister Data, you have the Con," Picard ordered. ----- Picard, Riker, Troi, and Commander Adama stood calmly on the side of the bay as the Galactica shuttle glided in, reversed its thrusters, and came to a halt near the center. The hatch popped open as the engine whine began to die down. Lieutenants Sheba and Starbuck stepped through the doorway and began to walk towards the Enterprise's crew. Then Casseopia, Boxey, and Captain Apollo came out and joined the others at the side of the bay. Captain Picard extended his hand to each and remarked, "Welcome again aboard the Enterprise. We are glad to have you here once more. I believe that your group is the last to come on board. We should be ready to be underway shortly." "Captain... Father," Apollo acknowledged, nodding to each. "Grandfather!" Boxey exclaimed, as he ran over to Adama, with arms held high, indicating that he wanted to be picked up. "Boxey!" Adama replied with a big smile, as he swept the boy up in his arms. "How was your trip here?" "Neat! But how did you get here before us?" "Well Boxey," Adama began, "it's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you later on tonight," he replied as he put Boxey down. "Come on Boxey," Apollo said, "we gotta put your things away." Deanna walked over to the young boy and said, "He's adorable. How old is he?" "I'm almost seven yahrens old!" Boxey answered. "Wow! You're almost grown," Deanna teased. Boxey began to blush and then he spotted Picard looking at him with amusement. He walked over and stood in front of the Enterprise's Captain, rigid as if at attention. He then asked, "Are you the Commander of this ship?" Riker tried to stifle a snicker as Picard briefly looked his way and then turned back to Boxey. "Yes, I am young man." Muffit hobbled over, sat by Boxey's side, and began to bark. "A robot dog?" Deanna inquired, with fascination. "He's a daggit!" Boxey quickly corrected. "His name is Muffit!" "Well Boxey, I'll have my Second Officer show you and your father the play area, where there are other children," Picard offered. "Yes sir!" Boxey replied, with a salute of his hand. Picard chuckled, tapped his Comm badge, and said, "Picard to Data." "Data here." "Commander, could you report to the Main Shuttle Bay please." "Aye sir," was the reply. The members of the Council and their assistants continued to file out of the shuttle. Commander Riker walked towards them. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard the Enterprise. My name is Commander William Riker, the First Officer, and this is Lieutenant Commander Deanna Troi, our ship's Counselor. Please, you may come this way." As the Councillors moved towards Riker and Troi, the Galactica's Officers gathered around Adama, and Worf stepped over to them saying, "I will escort you to YOUR quarters. Please follow me." At that point, Data entered the bay, spoke briefly to Captain Picard, and then walked over to Apollo and Boxey. "Captain, I am pleased to see you again," Data remarked. "Commander," Apollo replied. "This is my son Boxey," he added. "The Captain would like me to escort you to your quarters and then to the play area." "Sounds good to me. Hey Starbuck," he then said, looking over at his Junior Officer, "catch you later." Starbuck responded, "Right, later." The various groups then exited the Shuttle Bay. ----- As the Enterprise swiftly raced towards Pacifica, the guests meandered through the ship, either to the Lounges, their quarters, or the various Holodecks. A tall, dark-haired and black-eyed man walked into Ten Forward, spotted Sheba, and immediately walked towards her table. "Excuse me, anyone sitting here?" Ambassador Marks asked the young woman seated alone at a table near the panoramic center window. "Uh, well no," Lieutenant Sheba hesitantly replied. "Good. May I join you?" Sheba looked around the Lounge at a number of empty tables and then responded with resignation, "Uh, no, I don't mind. Please, sit down." "How rude I am. I haven't properly introduced myself..." "Aren't you one of the Ambassadors? I think I recall you speaking with members of our Council." "Marks. My name is Darrion Marks. And you are..." "Sheba. Lieutenant Sheba." "Sheba. What a beautiful name. What is it that you do, Sheba?" "I'm a member of the Colonial Fleet, a Warrior, a fighter pilot. I'm in command of Silver Spar Squadron," she proudly stated. "Fighter pilot?" Marks said with surprise. "You don't strike me as the type." "Really," Sheba began, somewhat insulted by his implication, "and what DO I 'strike' you as?" "Why, there is a planet in the Federation. It is called Haven. A beautiful planet, full of peace-loving people. And on this planet, there is a group of women who are known as 'The Healers'. Very, very beautiful women who, legend has it, can cure a man's soul just by having him gaze upon them." "Oh now come on, you can't be serious. If it wasn't for your pleasantness, I'd come right out and say that you're handing me a line..." Chuckling, the Betazoid said, "Hmmm, you don't believe me, do you?" "Not for a centon." "Centon, eh? Well to be truthful, there IS a planet called Haven and there is a sect of women on this planet from the planet Minara. These women ARE believed to be healers. Few have had the opportunity to meet with them since their society is secret. However, I was fortunate to have been invited to their dwelling place." Suspiciously, Sheba responded, "I see, and how did you manage that? How was it that YOU were invited and no one else?" Smiling, Marks replied, "The women are empaths, TRUE empaths. As a telepath and empath myself, I was welcomed there, as are most Betazoids." "Uh huh, and what is it that they do?" "Well, as full empaths, they have the ability to absorb the emotions of others. In fact, they can actually transfer those emotions from any individual to themselves. Once transferred, they apparently have the ability to dissipate those emotions, particularly the bad ones, so as not to cause harm to themselves." "I see. I guess I learn something new every centauri," Sheba remarked. "Have you been to the Holodecks?" Darrion Marks asked, quickly changing the subject. "NO!! I keep hearing everyone talk about them but I've never been in one." "Would you like to see one?" Hesitating, Sheba replied, "Well actually..." "Oh come on, I won't bite you. I'd like to show you my planet." "Your planet? You mean Betazed?" "Yes. There are beautiful gardens there with exotic flowers, whose sweetness can almost make you dizzy, and plants that will sing you to sleep at night." "How poetic," Sheba said, with skepticism. "But how can you..." "Oh, a long time ago, I developed a program for the Holodeck to bring with me since I'm away from home all the time. Over the years, I've refined the program. I don't often get the chance to come on board the larger ships that are equipped with Holodecks like the Enterprise, so I try to make use of the program whenever I can." "Well..." "All jokes aside, I think you'll like it. Do you like flower gardens?" "Sure. Except for the little time I could find to spend on the Agro ships, it's been so long since I had the chance to walk through a real garden." "Well then what're we waiting for??" Sheba, now relaxed and giggling finally relented and said, "Yeah, what ARE we waiting for?" ----- "Okay delegates, that's it. That's the end of the tour for the day. Anyone have any questions?" Riker asked. The Councillor from Picon immediately spoke. "Commander, we are very grateful that you took the time from your most important duties to accommodate us. I think that all of us would agree that your Federation's technology is truly wondrous." Politely, Riker responded, "Thank you Councillor. We consider it our duty to make your stay with us as comfortable as possible and we want to allow you to see and experience some of the benefits of membership, should you choose to formally apply for it." The Aquarian Council President then noted, "Commander, many of our people have expressed grave concerns for their safety. Granted, we acknowledge your victory against the Cylons, however, we need your assurances that our military will be fully equipped with your technology to be able to handle any future attacks." Somewhat perplexed by the magnitude of the question, the First Officer replied, "Those military issues that you raise will be fully addressed at the Federation talks. I believe that Admiral Baird will be handling that aspect." "I see. Then I shall await that session or endeavor to speak with the Admiral myself, just prior. Thank you Commander." "If there isn't anything else, I will take my leave of you. A member of our Security staff can escort you to your quarters or to any of our lounges. Thank you." Riker then nodded his head, turned, and walked away with a sigh. He mumbled to himself, "The ever-smiling host. Such is the burden of the First Officer." "Commander?" Riker turned and looked at the Betazoid Ambassador. "Ambassador? What can I do for you?" "Well, actually... this has nothing to do with the negotiations or your tour for that matter but..." The man paused briefly, smiled and then said, "I hear you play a mean game of poker." Taken back by the comment, a surprised Riker said, "Oh yeah? Where'd you hear that?" "Oh, I have my sources," the Betazoid remarked with a sly smile and a wink. "And those 'sources' don't happen to be Betazoid, do they?" Marks began to laugh. "No need. I've heard your name mentioned all the way from Risa to DS9." "I see... so, you play?" Riker asked, intrigued by the prospect of playing cards with a full telepath. "Occasionally." "You any good?" Riker challenged. "I'd say I was fair, IF you consider that I beat Arjus on Toban III." "Oh come on. YOU actually...? I don't believe it," Riker countered. "Actually Commander, I was losing for the first few hands, then I managed to run into a lucky streak." "I expect you would, being that you can read minds," Riker said with skepticism. "Ah but you forget, I can't read a Ferengi's mind and that's exactly what Arjus is, right down to the Felosian earring he sports in his ear." "Still..." "Listen Commander, if I went through life making it my business to know everything that everyone I'm exposed to was thinking, my life would be chaotic, if not rather boring," Darrion Marks noted. "Boring? I'd think that you'd have an advantage..." "Yes but then what would be the challenge? I would only develop a dependency that I really don't want to have. Besides, if Betazoids keep their minds open twenty-four hours a day, I'm sure you can imagine how that could eventually drive us mad." Riker thought for a minute and then said, "True. Deanna tells me that often enough. Listen, if you're interested, you can join us tomorrow night. In my quarters. Deck 8." "I'll be there, and you won't regret it," the Ambassador promised. "Anyone who can beat that no-good, lying, cheating Ferengi Arjus, is welcome at MY poker table anytime." ----- Deanna Troi walked briskly down the corridor, rounded a corner and nearly collided with a flustered Lwaxana Troi. "Mother! What are you doing here?" Deanna exclaimed. "Now Little One, is that any way to greet your mother?" "But..." "You should be overjoyed to see me and impressed with the fact that I will be going to Pacifica to assist in the negotiations between the Federation and the Colonists." "But I thought..." Deanna tried to interject. "Now, now Little... I mean Deanna. I'll be honest. I am only one of several Betazoid delegates who were selected to help carry out these negotiations. Of course, I also have an indepth knowledge of the Conference sites on Pacifica." Lwaxana resumed her stroll towards her cabin as she continued her explanation. "The Federation has decided to hold simultaneous, multilateral talks regarding trade issues, food production, defense matters and the like, and so naturally, I was selected to assist in handling the settlements. I am personally in charge of seeing to it that the Colonists make a smooth transition into the Federation. Isn't that wonderful? Enough of the subject!! So tell me, what has happened since I talked to you last? No... never mind that either! Why don't you tell me about that very handsome, very distinguished, AND very available Commander Adama I keep hearing mention of..." "Mother..." the Counselor repeated with a sigh as she followed her into the guest quarters. "Why is it that every time you come on board, you go running after some man?" "Deanna, I resent it when you characterize my greeting and conversing with certain individuals as 'running after' someone." "Well you don't seem to realize how it looks to other people." "And since when have I cared what 'other people' think?" Lwaxana retorted. "Besides, you forget that I already KNOW what others think anyway." "But Mother, you keep insisting on making a big production out of everything," Deanna noted. "As I should... as YOU should, Little One. As daughter of the Fifth.." "Yes, yes. How many times do you have to keep repeating that?" "YOU may want to assimilate with these people, Deanna, but I never have and never will. I will NOT compromise MY culture and privileged background." "You seem to forget that you married one of them AND produced children." "Yes, and I will NEVER regret that in the least. Your father was such a wonderful man. So very understanding. So..." "Willing to put up with your behavior," Deanna added, completing the sentence. "Little One! What has happened to the respect that I taught you to have for your family? I've had enough. You may leave now." "But Mother..." "NOW! Just leave me alone." ----- Later that afternoon Deanna returned, perched herself on a table in her mother's bedroom, and innocently asked, "Mother, tell me about Ambassador Darrion Marks." "Mr. Homm, please bring that chest with my jewelry. I must look my best for the Commander of the Colonial Fleet tonight." Lwaxana Troi was agitated once again and she flitted about the room, stopping often to admire herself in the large mirror that hung on the wall. "Mother, are you listening to me?" "What was that dear...?" "Darrion Marks..." Deanna repeated. "Your colleague." "No, no, NO! Not that chest, the other one!" Lwaxana chided her servant. Exasperated, Deanna snapped, "Mother!!" "Deanna, you don't have to raise your voice. I heard you the first time. I don't know what has happened to you lately. You've really lost all of your social graces since you came on board this ship." Deanna began to turn bright red and she balled her fists to suppress her impatience. Finally Lwaxana responded, "Darrion Marks... Darr-i-on... Oh yes! THAT Darrion Marks. He's a member of the Third House, dear. Never really dealt with them very much. From what I understand, he's spent the last month on the Galactica, interacting with the Colonists." "Ah ha... I see..." came the response from the now enlightened Deanna. "Not that THAT'S particularly important," Lwaxana replied defensively. "Granted, the Third House precedes us but what you must always look at is what each House has accomplished over the generations. For example..." "Never mind Mother..." Deanna broke in. "Besides," Lwaxana continued. "He volunteered to work with those... those DREADFUL Cardassians. Crude people, if you ask me." "Cardassians?" Troi said with alarm. "The Truce little one, the Truce. Mr. Homm, where is the suitcase with my shoes?!" --o-- Boxey wandered around the playroom, a little overwhelmed by all the toys and games and children who milled about. He spotted a strange-looking boy, somewhat older than he but not much taller. He walked over to him and tentatively asked, "What's your name?" "Alexander," the young Klingon replied. "What's yours?" "Boxey. My name's Boxey. You're not a Human, are you?" "I'm a Klingon," Alexander proudly stated. "But I'm part Human too." "What are Klingons?" Boxey asked. "Klingons are warriors," Alexander replied. "MY dad's a Warrior. I'm gonna be a Warrior too, when I grow up." "I bet he's not as strong as my dad. MY dad's Chief of Security." "Well my dad's Captain of the whole Blue Squadron!" "What's that?" "They're all Warriors, like Starbuck and Boomer and Jolly." "What do they do?" Alexander asked with intense curiosity. "They fight the Cylons in their Vipers!" Boxey said excitedly. "What's a Cylon? What're Vipers?" "The Cylons are the bad guys. They hate Humans. They killed my Mom. A Viper's a ship. It can fly real fast!" Boxey explained. "Oh..." Alexander replied, trying to envision what the fighter ship must look like. Then he had a great idea. "You wanna see something neat?" "Yeah!" Boxey replied. The two quickly ran out of the playroom, Alexander leading the way, and headed down the corridor. A few minutes later, they stopped in front of a Holodeck door. "Computer?" the Klingon boy ordered. "Run program 'Alexander, Warrior One', difficulty level one." "Program complete. Enter when ready," the computerized voice acknowledged. "Wanna be a warrior right now?" Alexander asked. "How?" Boxey answered with curiosity. "Come on, I'll show you." As the two approached the Holodeck entrance, the doors immediately parted to reveal a dark and dismal scene. The remains of a small village, stark and abandoned, lay in front of their eyes. Debris was strewn everywhere. "What happened here?" Boxey asked with a slightly hesitant voice, as he looked around at the desolation. "Where are we? Where are all the people?" "There are no people," Alexander replied, eyes widening with excitement and anticipation. "But there are monsters here who'll try to kill you so keep your eyes open." "I don't wanna stay here. I'm scared," was the now frightened reply. "I thought you were a warrior?" "But I'm still little. When I grow up, I'll be the best Warrior in the universe. You'll see," Boxey said defensively. "You just wait..." All of a sudden, a large figure leapt out in front of the two boys and held a long, metal pole in front of them. When the thing lifted it's head, the skeletal face glowed in the dim light. "Boxey screamed and turned to run towards the Holodeck exit. He stopped short and stared in confusion at an old, wooden wheelbarrow and a tree where the doors had previously been. Quickly, he reeled around again to look for his new friend and watched in horror as Alexander had retrieved a large sword of some kind and had begun to battle the creature. Boxey scooted around to the rear of the wheelbarrow and crouched down low. "Hey Boxey," Alexander yelled, "I need your help!" "No! I'm scared! I wanna go home." Suddenly, a low-pitched voice boomed from behind. "ALEXANDER! What are you doing here?! Computer! Freeze program!" Worf bellowed. Boxey, terrified as it was, watched with disbelief as the horrifying creature froze in place, metal pole held at an awkward angle, just as it was about to come crashing down on Alexander's head. "You did NOT request my permission to leave the play area. Captain Apollo is looking for his son. Where is he? The other children said that he was with you," Worf demanded. Sheepishly, Alexander replied, "He's over there, behind that old wheelbarrow." "Worf walked over to the wheelbarrow and slowly knelt down near it. He spotted the small boy shivering on the ground behind it. With a calm voice and reassuring words, he stated, "It is alright Boxey. None of this is real. Nothing here will hurt you." Softly whimpering, Boxey replied, "Promise?" "Promise," Worf answered with a sympathetic smile threatening to curl on his lips. Slowly, tentatively, the small boy emerged from behind one large, wooden wheel and stepped into the open. "You see?" Worf confirmed. "It IS alright. Watch me carefully." He stood up straight and ordered, "Computer. End program." All of a sudden, the village, the creature and everything else in the area disappeared. Left in their place were Alexander, Worf, Boxey and an empty black room. On the walls, parallel yellow lines traversed and intersected each other, from floor to ceiling. "WOW!" Boxey responded with amazement, his fear now gone. "Neat! What is this place?" "It is called a Holodeck but it is time for us to go now. Alexander, I want you to return to our quarters. I will deal with you later." "Yes sir," Alexander mumbled. "Come on Boxey, your father is looking for you," the Security Chief stated, as he grabbed the Human boy's hand and left the Holodeck. ----- When Worf and Boxey entered the play area, Apollo, who was talking to one of the teachers, spotted them, nodded a thank you to the teacher, and walked over to the Klingon. "Oh good, you found him. Thanks, I really appreciate it," Apollo said with relief. "Boxey was with my son on one of the Holodecks. I will PERSONALLY see to it that Alexander apologizes publicly to you," Worf replied flatly. "That's okay. There's no need. No harm done," Apollo answered sincerely, while playfully tossling his son's hair. "I feel that there IS a need," Worf insisted. "They were participating in a program that is TOO intense for a young Human child. I assure you that this will NOT happen again." A little concerned, Apollo asked, "Boxey, what happened?" "I'm okay Dad. They said that the whole thing was fake. It was a warrior program! Alexander was fighting with some skeleton monster and..." "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down... slow down. What do you mean 'fighting'...?" "Captain," Worf interrupted, "this technology may be a bit difficult to explain but..." "Try me." "Very well. The Holodeck is a device that is capable of taking energy from the ship's stores and converting it into matter, in a process similar to that used for our transporters and replicators. It can be programmed to reproduce almost any object or event." "I don't quite follow you..." "Generally, most crew members use the Holodeck for leisure, for example, to re-create a beach or a mountain or a park. Others, like myself, program it for calisthenics or other exercises. It is capable of creating an opponent for competition." "Wait a centon. You mean you people can create a person?? A real live person?" Apollo asked with confusion. "Yeah Dad!" Boxey interjected. "You should see..." "Hold on Boxey..." Apollo interrupted. "Let me get this straight," he continued. "This thing... this 'Holodeck', can actually..." "Captain Apollo," Worf finally responded, "Holodeck 'matter', can ONLY exist inside the Holodeck chamber, and no... the 'person' is NOT alive." "This is really beginning to become a little overwhelming to me Lieutenant. First you tell me that you people can disassemble someone, 'beam' them over to another location, and then re-assemble them, and my father, of all people volunteered to try it! Now you talk about re-creating people and mountains and parks out of thin air. I mean, this can't be for real." "Believe it Captain. If you want, I can show you what I'm talking about." "I would very much like to see what you're talking about, but right now, I don't have the time. I have to get to that banquet and I'm running late as it is. Maybe later." "As you wish," Worf replied. He nodded and then left the room. "Listen Boxey... just stay around here or in our quarters, okay? I don't want you wandering around the ship," Apollo cautioned. He squatted down to reach Boxey's eye level, pointed his index finger in a scolding but light-hearted manner and said, "Get it?" "Got it!" was the expected reply. "Good!" came the finale. "Okay sport, let's go," Apollo said, after a playful poke to Boxey's mid-section. He stood up straight again and held out his hand. "Aye, aye sir!" Boxey proudly proclaimed, with a quick hand salute. He reached for his father's pro-offered hand and the two left the playroom. ----- Apollo and Boxey returned to their quarters on the Enterprise. Apollo, knowing that he would be late arriving at the banquet in Ten Forward, moved quickly to ready Boxey for bed. "Dad, is it true about what they said? That we're not really going to Earth?" Boxey innocently inquired. "Boxey, who's been talking to you?" Apollo asked, as he pulled Boxey's tunic over his head and pulled on his pajama top. "Well, my friend Pip and my friend Teela and..." "Listen to me Boxey, whatever happens, WE will be going to Earth." "But what about Starbuck?" "What about him? I'm sure he's..." "THAT'S not what I heard. I heard that he and Casseopia got mad at each other and had a big fight. I heard that..." "That's enough, Boxey!" Apollo snapped. Then, apologetically he said, "Look, I'm sorry I got mad at you but... alot has happened recently, you know, all the excitement about finding the Earth people, and sometimes the excitement can make people say and do things that they really don't mean." "Like when I stayed up real late and I was tired and I got mad at Boomer?" Boxey suggested, as he slid his pants off and stepped into his pajama bottoms. "That's exactly right, Boxey." Shifting to his mischievous side, Boxey then remarked, "I STILL think that Starbuck wants to stay on the Galactica." "Boxey... let's drop it. No more talking about Starbuck, okay? Time for bed." "Okay," Boxey relented. "Okay. Up you go," Apollo said, while gently lifting his son up on the bed. "Dad?" "Huh?" "Promise me that we're going to Earth?" "I promise, now go to sleep." "Aye, aye Captain!" ----- Seated at a desk in his guest quarters aboard the Enterprise, Commander Adama was conversing with the man on his small viewscreen. "Let me get this straight Tigh, the referendum question on the ballot has changed?" he asked with dismay. "I'm afraid so sir. There was so much outcry among the people, that whole ships threatened to boycott the vote entirely unless the question was changed," the frustrated Colonel Tigh replied. "Hmmm, so what is the question now, may I ask?" Adama inquired with a hint of sarcasm. "Well... unless they made a change since I last checked, the 'question' has become 'questions'." "And?" "Well, one question asks whether we should join the Federation as a whole group OR have the right to choose by planet affiliation," was the reply. "Just as I feared. And what else?" the Colonial Commander asked. "The other questions appear to break down along planetary lines, for example, 'should OUR colony reside on Earth or should WE seek out another world, either habited or uninhabited', and so on," Tigh explained. "So how is the vote running now?" "The Inter-Fleet Broadcasting is reporting that it's running about two to one for allowing each Colony to decide it's own fate. The results of the local questions haven't been reported yet." "I see..." Adama paused to contemplate and then he said forlornly, "Then it looks like the breakup of the Colonies." "It looks that way Commander, however, I've heard some talk about trying to maintain the Planetary Council of the Twelve, at least de-facto." "How will that be possible, if we scatter ourselves among the stars? The Council was maintained over thousands of yahrens due to the fact that we all resided in a single system. Now..." "I know Adama..." the Colonel responded. "I guess they were considering keeping the Council in place for 'ceremonial' functions." "And I know a few members who will NOT be too pleased by THAT arrangement in the least," Adama added. "Both sides have been lobbying very hard for their views and it looks like the nationalistic interests have won out." "So basically what you are saying is that some of us may join the Federation while others do not. Some of us will choose to reside on Earth while others will not." "From the reports I've heard, that appears to be the sentiment. In fact, another scenario that has drawn alot of support, believe it or not, was put forth by a group who wants to return to our home worlds. This group has even gone as far as drawing up plans for rebuilding efforts," Tigh remarked. "What?? What about the Cylons?" Adama exclaimed. "Well sir, it appears that these people are under the impression that Star Fleet can protect them from the Cylons." "Star Fleet? How? Our Colonies are not within their space. They will NEVER agree to an arrangement like that. We were fortunate that they pulled some strings and bent some rules to even intercede on our behalf when we were under attack!" "I realize that Adama, but some are even talking about somehow 'obtaining' the Federation's technology, refitting their ships, and returning to destroy the Cylons once and for all." Adama began to rub his closed eyelids as he said, "My God, are they mad? I fear that I have truly underestimated our people. What I'd hoped would be our salvation may indeed turn out to be our undoing." He sighed heavily and then said with resignation, "Very well Tigh, keep me informed. I will relay what you have told me to the appropriate Federation officials. Apparently, they are going to have to make some sort of special arrangements to accommodate the different Colonies." "Aye sir, and one other thing that I think MAY help. It seems that some of the Colonies who agree on the same issues have expressed a willingness to work together as a unit. If anything, at least that will cut down on the number of similar topics that must be simultaneously negotiated." "That's good news. At least SOME of our people have agreed to work together. We may have some hope yet." "I'll let you know when the final results are in." "Thank you Colonel. Shortly, I will be attending the final gala aboard the Enterprise prior to our arrival at Pacifica, if you need to get to me in an emergency. Adama out." ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!news.umbc.edu!eff!news.duke.edu!solaris.cc.vt.edu!uunet!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTI (part 02/10) ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:13:01 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 900 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com C H A P T E R II Ten Forward was once again filled with many dignitaries who wandered about, conversed enthusiastically, and helped themselves to a dizzying assortment of food and drink. Jean-Luc Picard and Commander Adama stood facing each other, deeply engaged in shop talk, when a tall, dark-haired and dark-eyed woman approached. "Excuse me Jean-Luc..." the woman said, interrupting their conversation. She then turned her attention to the silver-haired man. "Why... aren't you Commander Adama?" she inquired, with feigned surprise. "Ahem..." the slightly embarrassed Captain mumbled. "Commander, let me introduce you to..." "Jean-Luc! Really!!! I am QUITE capable of introducing myself." With practiced flourish, she continued, "Commander Adama, I am Lwaxana Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House... Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed, AND Federation Ambassador from the planet Betazed." "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Ambassador," Adama politely replied, a little thrown by the woman's formality. "Just call me Lwaxana," she responded, with a mischievous smile and a quick succession of eyebrow lifts. "Whatever you prefer..." A gulp. "Lwaxana..." Adama answered, again with politeness that now bordered on incredulity. "I understand that you are descended from royalty, Commander," Troi suddenly noted, moving to the true purpose of her conversation. "In a way, I am," Adama acknowledged. "My family is descended from the Ninth Lord of Kobol. I wear his seal," he said, while fingering the sparkling, silver-colored medallion that he wore around his neck at all times. "We made our residence on the planet Caprica. I am a full member of the Colonial Council of the Twelve, as the Representative from Caprica." "I see..." the Betazoid replied. "Perfect..." she cooed. "Would the two of you excuse for a moment? I believe that I am needed elsewhere," Picard shrewdly announced, as he cupped his hands in front of him, mustered his most diplomatic smile, and carefully backed away from Adama and Mrs. Troi. He then smoothly spun in place and headed towards Riker, a now obvious, exasperated look on his face. Riker began to slowly smile as Picard approached him. He then whispered with a smirk, "A prudent exit, sir. Perfect timing." Out of the corner of his mouth, Picard mumbled, "Number One, I never thought in my whole life..." A pause. "That I would EVER have to stoop so low to say..." He then quickly looked around from side to side and whispered, "'better him than me'." Riker tried to stifle a laugh as he noted, "Yet you have now stooped. I NEVER say never." Picard raised an eyebrow at his First Officer's comment and then remarked with a slight smile, "Indeed." ----- "So you're a pilot?" Darrion Marks observed to Lieutenant Starbuck, as the two stood side by side near the end of the bar in Ten Forward. "Sure am. Only place to be. In the cockpit and nothing around you but stars," was Starbuck's cocky response. "You realize that if your people join the Federation, you might not be able to fly that ship of yours," Marks noted. "Who says anyone's joining the Federation? Besides, I haven't made up MY mind yet," the Colonial Warrior retorted. "So where do YOU plan on going?" "I dunno. I haven't had the chance to check out all the star systems in this part of space. All I know is that no one's gonna take MY ship away from me." "There's been talk about mothballing the Galactica, you know," the Ambassador remarked. ""Mothballing'? What's that mean?" "Using her for scrap," Marks replied matter-of-factly. "Really..." Starbuck answered with skepticism. "And just where did you hear THAT one?" "Oh, I have my sources, Lieutenant." "Why are YOU so concerned?" Starbuck queried. "It's my JOB to be concerned" came the retort. Starbuck frowned, took a sip from his drink, and said in a hushed voice, "I see... Sounds like you're suggesting that the Colonists NOT join the Federation." "I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just being truthful with you." "Truthful," Starbuck echoed flatly, while looking around the room for any sign of Casseopia. "Listen, I've met alot of your people and I've come to like many of them. I'm just trying to help," the Ambassador said, switching tactics. "Help? How's that?" the Lieutenant remarked. "I know for a fact that there are people in Star Fleet who are just like you... 'Warriors'. They've been fighting with the 'powers to be' to build and fly a ship like yours," Darrion Marks offered. "Really...? Starbuck said, now becoming slightly interested in the conversation. "In fact, some of them are considering quitting Star Fleet and joining you," Marks added. "Joining us?" Starbuck replied with suspicion. "Why? We're obviously technologically backwards compared to..." "They're willing to modify your fighters to accommodate warp technology." "Warp...?" "Your ships can only go light speed, correct?" "Yeah, and...?" "Imagine going faster than that AND having access to our phaser technology." "Faster? Than light?" Starbuck replied with amazement. "I keep hearing that. How is that poss..." "Shh... Listen, why don't you come by my quarters later tonight and I'll tell you all about it," the Betazoid offered. "Starbuck started shaking his head while commenting, "Uh, I don't know. If you're talking about something illegal... Not that I'm Mr. Clean but..." "Hardly. Besides, you haven't signed anything yet with the Federation, so anything goes. The longer you hang around here, the more you'll learn about the OTHERS in this area of space." "Hmmm... Maybe I'll think about it." "Think fast, Lieutenant. We don't have much time..." the Ambassador advised as he walked away and towards an exit. ----- When Athena glanced up and across the Lounge, she watched with suspicion as her father moved slowly towards a small table. On his arm was a woman who she had never seen before. Athena's deep blue eyes narrowed with displeasure and her sudden brooding clearly indicated unspoken disapproval. "Hey Athena, we lost you there. What are you looking at so intensely?" Sheba asked. Deanna Troi, who had been sitting and chatting with the two young women, slowly tilted her head sideways as she began to feel the confusion in Athena's mind. She looked up and towards the cause of the confusion and then suddenly bolted upright. She watched as her mother, arm-in-arm with Commander Adama, moved to sit at a table. "Mother!" she angrily exclaimed to herself. Innocently, Sheba looked over in the same direction and asked, "Hmm... who is that woman with your father, Athena? I've never seen her before. Actually, she's very beautiful." Athena quickly suppressed her true feelings and stated flatly, "I don't know, she's probably one of the Siresses. Ever since Mother died, they all seem to be hovering around him all the..." Troi immediately interrupted her and angrily spat, "That's my mother!" and she stood and stormed away from the table into the crowd. Looking somewhat embarrassed, Sheba managed an "Uh oh..." Athena retorted with "Uh oh is right!" and she also stood up and briskly walked away towards the doors of the Lounge. Just as Athena left, Casseopia and Starbuck approached the table, hands laden with all sorts of exotic foods. "Hey Starbuck, Casseopia," Sheba remarked, "Glad to see you two decided to make up!" she teased. A concerned Casseopia looked around the room and then asked, "Sheba, what happened? What's wrong with Athena? Where's Deanna??" "You don't want to know," came Sheba's response. "Uh Sheba..." Starbuck began, "we may not 'want to know', but we STILL wanna know!" he blurted. "Okay, you asked for it. Look over there," Sheba relented, while pointing over in the direction of the Colonial Commander. "Hmm... and?" A pause. "So what? The Commander is with an escort. She's probably one of the delegates. Big deal?" Starbuck remarked. "It's a big deal alright if the escort just so HAPPENS to be Deanna Troi's mother." "Ohhh... I see..." the Lieutenant said. He paused briefly to consider this new information and then with confusion said, "Hmmm... actually, I STILL don't get..." A revelation then occurred. "OH! You think that they, uh..." he began to gesture with his hands, "That they are, you know..." "Starbuck..." Casseopia warned. ----- Deanna stood fuming in front of the large, picturesque window at the center of Ten Forward, staring out at the kaleidoscopic display of stars. Data silently approached her from behind. "Excuse me Counselor." Troi was suddenly jolted back to awareness and she immediately turned to face one of the few beings who she could not sense when he was in her presence. "What is it Data?" she snapped, a little too harshly than planned. "I am sorry if I disturbed you. It was not really that important." Data began to turn away and Troi grabbed his arm to stop him. "No wait! I'm sorry Data," she replied apologetically. "It's just that... well, I'm a little irritable tonight, that's all. It has to do with my mother. I didn't mean to snap at you like that." "That is quite alright Counselor. As I noted before, my query was not that important." "Go ahead Data. Ask." "As you wish. Since you brought up the subject of your mother, I am curious. I have noticed that ever since she introduced herself to the Galactica's Commander, the two of them have yet to part company. I find that intriguing. Do you think that..." "Oh Data!" Troi nearly sobbed, as she fled past him and towards the doors. "Hmmm... Did I say something wrong?" Data asked aloud to himself while furrowing his brows in a perfect imitation of a Human in confusion. "I do not recall making any remarks that I would interpret would case such a reaction." The android quickly sought out and then spotted Riker on the other side of the room. He smoothly navigated through the crowd towards the First Officer, politely nodding and smiling to anyone who looked his way. "Excuse me Commander..." Data began. "There seems to be a... well, a problem." "What is it Data? What's wrong?" Riker asked, not too happy about being interrupted. "I was just talking to Counselor Troi and I happened to bring up the fact that her mother and Commander Adama have been, well, quite... inseparable this evening, and all of a sudden, she looked as if she were ready to cry and she immediately left Ten Forward. I do not understand." "Uh oh..." Riker sighed. "I'll go find her. Stay here." "Sir?" Data quickly injected. "May I suggest that perhaps she wants to be left alone?" Riker halted, thought for a bit, and then said, "Maybe you're right. I might do better if I let her cool off for a while." ----- Fitted in the finery of his tan and dark-brown dress uniform, Apollo slowly made his way through the throngs of delegates and representatives in Ten Forward, in search of his friends. He finally spotted them and hurried towards their table. "Starbuck, Sheba, have you seen Athena?" he asked, as he continued to visually search the room for his sister. "Hey buddy, thought you weren't gonna make it," Starbuck responded. "Had to put Boxey to bed. Where's Athena?" "Well... I'm afraid she just left," Casseopia volunteered, as she glanced over at Sheba. "Left? Why? Wasn't she feeling well?" Apollo inquired with concern. "Not after she found out that Deanna Troi's mother has the hots for your father," Sheba teased, as she looked back at Casseopia. "What? Deanna Troi's mother? What are you talking about?" "Look over there buddy," Starbuck added, nodding his head in the direction of Commander Adama and clearing his throat. After looking across the room, Apollo remarked, "Yeah... so? She's one of the Betazoid Ambassadors. I'm sure they're discussing business." "Think so?" Casseopia giggled, while playfully raising her eyebrows at the now embarrassed Starbuck. "Oh now wait a centon... I think you're all blowing this thing WAY out of proportion," Apollo responded with a little irritation. "Tell THAT to Deanna Troi. SHE went storming out of here right before Athena did!" Sheba added. "Geez. What MORE can go wrong tonight? Have you seen Captain Picard?" Apollo sighed. "He WAS here... actually, I haven't seen him in the past ten or fifteen centons or so. Maybe he had to go check on the status of the ship?" Sheba reasoned. "Yeah, I guess I would do the same." Changing the subject, he then remarked, "Boy I'm starved, what's good to eat around here anyway?" ----- Deanna Troi hastily stepped into the empty turbolift and leaned back against the wall. When the lift doors closed shut, she forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply to calm her frayed nerves. The lift sat motionless for a while and then a familiar voice declared, "State destination." "Huh? Oh, Deck 8." The lift began to move and then it suddenly stopped. The doors opened and in walked Darrion Marks. "Hello," he politely said. "Good evening," Troi calmly replied. "Deck 6," he then ordered. Troi suddenly began to shiver and then she abruptly relaxed. The lift stopped, the doors opened at her level, and she stepped out into the empty corridor. "Good night," the dark-haired man replied. Troi gently nodded in his direction as the doors swished shut. She was slightly bewildered by the man's characteristically black, but burning, Betazoid eyes. She stood silently in the corridor, briefly closing her eyes and then opening them again. She finally started walking slowly towards her cabin. She was beginning to feel a slight tug in her mind but she couldn't quite fix it to a specific person or event. When she reached the safe confines of her room, she stood still, groaned slightly and then began to rub her temples, as the 'tugging' sensation intensified. After a while, she walked into her bathroom and pushed the small button on the counter. The basin cover slid back to reveal a small, oval-shaped pool of water. She carefully dipped her hands into the clear, cool liquid and slowly brought a small amount towards her face. Suddenly, she looked up in the mirror, squinted her eyes and then screamed in pain, finally crumbling to the floor in anguish. ----- Jean-Luc Picard returned to Ten Forward and immediately made his way to the front of the room. He sighed as he looked around at the boisterous crowd. "This is going to be a little difficult," he remarked to himself. He stepped over to the bar, found an empty glass and a drink stirrer, and then resumed his place. He began to sharply rap the glass with the stirrer while entreating, "May I have your attention please." Slowly, the room became silent as all eyes focussed on him. "Thank you. I am pleased to announce that we have just now reached the planet Pacifica and we have assumed an orbit around it." The people turned to look out of the Lounge windows and they gasped in surprise and delight to see that the previous view of streaking stars had indeed been replaced by the steady presence of a beautiful blue-white planet. "According to the schedule, your sessions will officially begin at oh-nine hundred in the morning. I wish to express my crew's and MY best wishes for a productive day tomorrow," Picard added, with a nod of the head to the delegates. They promptly expressed their satisfaction with robust applause. Slightly embarrassed, Picard concluded, "Please help yourself to the many delicacies we are offering this evening and I am grateful to have had the opportunity to provide you transportation and our hospitality." The crowd again murmured it's approval and proceeded to resume their conversations and merriment. Picard stepped down from the platform, relieved that this minor detail was taken care of, and he moved towards his First Officer. "Well Number One, I think I'll retire for the evening. You have..." A piercing scream cut through the air in the room and everyone present struggled to locate it's origin. Upon finding the source, Picard quickly pushed through the onlookers to find Adama carefully supporting a now weakened Lwaxana Troi, while trying to guide her back to her chair. "What happened?" he inquired. "I don't know," Adama responded, somewhat shaken by the ordeal. "We were discussing some of her experiences on other worlds when she suddenly paled and began to scream... as if she were in some kind of pain." "Jean-Luc..." Lwaxana pleaded. "Something terrible has happened. Horrible! You must DO something," she begged. "Mrs.Troi, please, what is wrong? What has happened?" Picard asked. "Horrible..." she gasped. "The pain... must block out the pain... concentrate... concentrate... calm..." She took a slow, deep breath. "Alright... It's... it's alright. I'll be fine now." "Mrs. Troi, if you can possibly shed ANY light on what has happened... I think that you may want to go to sickbay as well." "No, no Jean-Luc. I'm fine." "Please Lwaxana. I insist. I will escort you there my..." Picard began. "Worf to Captain Picard." Picard tapped his Comm badge and replied, "Picard here." "Captain, it is imperative that you come to Deck 6, Section J, right away." Picard looked up and across the room towards Riker with worry etched on his face. "On my way. Picard out." A second tap on the badge terminated the connection. "Hmmm, I wonder what's up?" the First Officer mumbled to himself. His concern level immediately shifted up a notch and he began to visually search the room for the Second Officer. Picard suddenly looked around at the confused delegates and with deliberate calm, he began to speak. "Please, delegates. Everything will be fine. Ambassador Troi is fine. I urge you to resume what you were doing and enjoy the rest of the evening." Members of the crowd gazed at each other with some suspicion but then gradually began to carry on with their conversations. Picard turned towards Adama and said, "Will you excuse me? I need to attend to my Security Officer." "I understand Captain. I will stay with the Ambassador." Picard nodded and immediately headed for the double doors of Ten Forward. ----- A worried Captain of the Enterprise stepped off the turbolift, briskly walked down the long corridor, and slowed just in front of the doors to an Observation Lounge, where two Security guards were stationed. He walked past them into the small room and suddenly stopped in his tracks. His face paled and he tried with difficulty to suppress his sudden nausea. Worf stood up and walked towards him. "Captain, one of the Colonial Council President's assistants found the two of them here. He contacted Security immediately," Worf stated. Picard stood motionless as he struggled deep inside to make sense of the carnage he saw before him. He began to slowly shake his head in revulsion and disbelief as he looked at what was left of his good friend Jonathan Baird. The partially dismembered body of the Admiral was lying face down in a large pool of blood. Not far away lay the Colonial Council President, a grisly grin plastered on his face, to be frozen there forever. "Jean-Luc..." Beverly Crusher gently whispered, while placing her hand on his arm and carefully guiding him out of the room, "there's nothing more we can do here." Worf joined the Captain and Chief Medical Officer in the hallway. "Mr. Worf, I want a thorough investigation of what has occurred here. Any clue, any MINUSCULE shred of information MUST be factored in," Picard managed. "Aye sir," came the reply. After sighing heavily, Picard tapped his Comm badge and calmly said, "Picard to Riker." "Riker here." "Number One, will you please DISCRETELY accompany Commander Adama to the Observation Lounge on Deck 6 at once? This is extremely urgent." "Understood sir," Riker replied. ----- Adama stood silently in the doorway of the Observation Lounge, his lips squeezed tightly together, his brows furrowed. His mind shifted quickly from the bloodshed in the Lounge to the threat of bloodshed among his people if he couldn't satisfactorily explain to them what had happened. He sighed heavily and then finally closed his eyes. Picard touched his arm briefly and motioned him out into the corridor. "It may be best if we discussed this in my Ready Room," the Captain recommended. "Will? Could you..." "It'll all be taken care of Captain," Commander Riker weakly replied. Adama nodded at the officers and the two men headed for a turbolift that would take them to the Enterprise's Main Bridge. ----- In the Captain's small office on the Bridge, Adama slowly walked over to the round, glass aquarium that protruded from the wall. He gazed with fascination at one of the beautiful fish that swam within, its long, fragile fins waving lazily in the water. "What sort of water creature is this?" he managed. Glad to be momentarily distracted, Picard gratefully replied, "That larger one is a Butterfly fish and I believe there is an angelfish in there as well, Commander." "Angelfish. How apt a name. So peaceful and graceful they appear to be." "Actually, that common name for the species is more of a misnomer than you might expect. In reality, those creatures can become rather vicious if disturbed," Picard noted. "I see. Once again, appearances can be deceiving. I have come to learn that hard lesson far too often," Adama confessed. "As have I, Commander." Adama suddenly looked up at Jean-Luc Picard and said, "Captain, when word of this reaches the Fleet..." "I understand Commander, but I beseech you not to call a halt to the talks. In fact, now more than ever, the two of us will need to work together to help push these negotiations forward. I have called upon some of my best people to get to the bottom of this unfortunate incident." "Captain, you don't understand. The decision may not be mine to make. When word of this reaches certain Council Members, they are sure to demand that we immediately end any relationship we now have with the Federation. They will insist that we be returned to our convoy. Trying to persuade them otherwise will be very difficult, if not impossible." "We should still plan to convene the Conference on the planet surface, regardless. I believe that the beauty and calm of Pacifica will help provide an atmosphere for cooler heads." "I give you my word Captain, as a Warrior, that I will try my best to keep these negotiations on track. I cannot promise you success but I will make every effort." "That effort will be greatly appreciated Commander." --o-- The senior staff of the Enterprise sat solemnly around the Conference table in the Main Observation Lounge, just off the Main Bridge. Jean-Luc Picard briskly entered the room and took his place at the head of the table. He folded his hands in front of him in an effort to appear calm and in control in front of his staff. He wasted no time getting to the business at hand. "Mr. Worf, what have you found so far?" Worf suddenly sat up straight and began his briefing. "We have searched the entire Lounge on Deck 6 for any evidence of the weapon that may have been used in the attack." He carefully folded back the cloth-wrapped object that lay on the table beside him. He then held the object up for all to see. Picard immediately recognized it and stifled a gasp. "We have confirmed this to be a Cardassian knife. The geologists have also confirmed the blade to be made of gemonite." Worf noted. "Cardassians? Why would the Cardassians be involved?" Riker asked. "Perhaps they are interested in making an allegiance with the Colonists and they wished to disrupt the Federation negotiations," Data suggested. "But if that were the case, why would they so obviously leave evidence behind to implicate themselves?" Picard asked. "Something's not right. None of this makes any sense," Riker said. "Indeed Number One. Worf, have you had the blade handle analyzed for DNA signatures?" Picard queried. "Aye sir." Crusher immediately piped in, "According to our analysis of the weapon AND of the entire room, we came up empty Jean-Luc. Nothing. The only DNA present in that Lounge was that of the two victims and of the Council President's assistant." "Hmmm... another twist." "Which suggests that maybe one or the other of the victims initiated the attack," Geordi speculated. "Perhaps," Data injected. "But if you look at the condition of the Admiral's body, it would suggest that the Council President would have had to have carried out the bulk of the assault. However, it seems rather unlikely that the Council President could have had access to such a rare, Cardassian knife." "True. It seems that there may be more than meets the eye here. Doctor, what have your autopsies uncovered?" Picard asked. "Well, unfortunately nothing beyond the cause of death being due to severe trauma from the stab wounds and extreme loss of blood. Other than that, I've turned up nothing out of the ordinary," Crusher reported. "This is getting worse and worse. Why would someone kill two Chief Negotiators and then leave a Cardassian weapon in the room? Doctor, did you attempt to take air samples to see if there were any 'mind-altering' drugs introduced?" Riker asked with frustration. "Yes. We found no sign of chemical contamination, either in the room or in the victim's blood stream," the Doctor reported. "Doctor, were you able to confirm that the wounds were actually made with THAT knife?" "As best I could. I confirmed the DNA patterns of both men from the blood we found on the blade," came the reply. "The entrance and exit wounds were typical of what you would expect from that type of knife." "Counselor, can you offer us any additional insight? Perhaps, bad feelings between our guests on board? "Captain," Troi said softly, "I... I'm sorry. I still feel their pain in my mind. It was really emotionally draining for me. The only thing that I can add right now is the fact that I DID sense something, something that I can't quite put my finger on, a sort of 'tugging' in my mind, just prior to the attack." "Can you describe that 'something' in words Deanna?" Riker asked, with concern. "Oh, I don't know... anger? Malice? Something that was evil and ugly perhaps? It really didn't make any sense, especially since the overall mood on the ship has been one of anticipation and excitement over the Conference. That's all I can recall." "You weren't at the banquet when this happened," Picard noted. "No, I was in my quarters," came the reply. "Do you recall seeing anyone during the time after you left Ten Forward?" Data asked. "Actually yes, as a matter of fact. I briefly shared a turbolift with Ambassador Marks. If I remember correctly, he got on at Deck 9 and... I think he requested 'Deck 6' as his destination." "Very well. Thank you Counsellor," Picard responded. "Captain, may I suggest that we brief Commander Adama and the others on what we have found so far?" Data suggested. "Yes Data, I was about to summon them here. Number One, could you escort Commander Adama and his staff here? Also have Ambassador Troi and Ambassador Marks meet me separately in my Ready Room at around twenty-two hundred and twenty-two thirty hours." Riker abruptly stood and replied, "Aye sir." ----- Captain Apollo began to feverishly pace around the Main Observation Lounge in frustration after hearing a summary of the incident. "I don't get it. With ALL the technology that you have on board this ship... and you're telling me that you can't figure out what happened? Do you realize what will happen when the full Council hears about this? Let alone what the people will say.." Apollo warned. "Apollo, please..." Adama pleaded. "No Father. I don't think you people understand..." "Captain," Picard began, "your Council President and one of my best friends were murdered. Now it is our job to find out the how and the why." "You mentioned something about some 'Cardassian' weapon. We've never heard of any 'Cardassians'. I suggest that you begin your investigation with them." "I assure you Captain, that we have," Picard responded, with slight irritation. "Well, I think that the first thing that needs to be done is to round up any Cardassian aboard this..." "We DO NOT have ANY Cardassians aboard THIS ship," Worf harumphed. "Captain Apollo, the Federation has been at war with the Cardassian Empire for a number of years. We have only recently signed a cease-fire with them," Data offered. "Well then there's your answer Captain Picard. Obviously some Cardassian had something against your friend and unfortunately, the Council President was in the wrong place at the wrong time," Apollo concluded. Picard sighed at the young man and briefly glanced over at his father, who silently expressed similar disapproval of his son's conclusions. The Enterprise Captain then said, "I'm afraid it's not as simple as that Captain. We were unable to confirm ANY third party being responsible for what happened." What do you mean? Surely...?" "Captain, what we are saying," Crusher added, "is that there were no fingerprints on the knife. In fact there were no traces of ANY presence in that room during the time of the incident, other than the Admiral and the Council President." "Which means...?" "Which means, Captain, that either the two men somehow killed each other, leaving no trace of their actions, or some entity that our technology cannot detect, may be responsible for what has occurred," Data concluded. --o-- Captain Apollo was raving mad when he finally reached his father's quarters. "Father, how can you believe them? How can you trust them?" he asked. "Apollo, why are you so quick to blame them? I'm convinced that they are doing as much as humanly possible to find out what happened," Adama replied. Incredulously, Apollo continued, "Is it just me, or do I get the feeling that everyone's ignoring the obvious. If you find a weapon that belongs to some alien race, ESPECIALLY one who was previously at war with you, how can you discount that? Please Father, help me to understand." "Yes they found the weapon, but how can you be so sure that it wasn't placed there as a means to confuse us? Note that they were unable to find any evidence that the knife was handled by any known species in this area of the universe." "But they DID confirm that the men were killed with THAT knife!" "If you listened carefully, the Doctor merely said that their wounds were only 'TYPICAL' of those that would be made from a knife of 'THAT kind'." "But she ALSO said that she confirmed their blood on the..." "Apollo, let me give you some advise. I learned a long, long time ago that in a situation such as this, mistakes are always made. The most perfectly executed plan will ALWAYS have some flaw, some small detail that was missed. Give them some time. Have patience. Something will turn up." Resigned, Apollo said, "I sure hope so, because somehow I keep getting the feeling that you may be next." ----- Jean-Luc Picard sighed as he peered out the window in his Ready Room, hands twitching nervously behind his back. He began to feel exhaustion pressing heavily down upon him and also found himself getting nowhere fast. Turning towards the woman who was seated stiffly, with legs crossed, on the other side of his small conference table, he beseeched, "Mrs. Troi, please..." "That's all I can remember Jean-Luc. Really. It was... it was unbelievable fear and then the pain. Oh, the pain," Lwaxana Troi groaned. "Alright Lwaxana. If there's anything, and I mean ANYTHING else that you can recall, please, it is IMPERATIVE that you contact me right away," the Enterprise Captain stated. "I will, Jean-Luc. I wish I could... Wait... I think..." "Yes???" "I STILL can't put a finger on it Jean-Luc. The only way I can describe it to you is with an AWFUL term like... 'evil'." "'Evil'?" "Yes, like someone or something was... was 'evil'. I know what a 'good-hearted' person feels like, but this was the opposite. And it wasn't 'evil' directed at a specific person. It was just, just... 'evil'." "Thank you Lwaxana. I will file that bit of information away. Again, if there's anything else..." "Yes, I know where to find you." "Again, my thanks." ----- "Ambassador Marks, my Counselor recalled that the two of you had briefly shared a turbolift, and you had requested 'Deck 6' as your destination." "That is correct Captain Picard. I'm afraid that I have no alibi, as my quarters are on that deck and I was alone." "I see, yet you boarded the lift from Deck 9," Picard stated. "Correct again, Captain. I had just left a private meeting I had conducted with the Borellian Nomen delegation who, as you may be aware, refuse to intermingle with the other Colonists." "Very well." "Captain, you don't seriously think that I..." "Ambassador, truthfully, I don't know WHAT to think. At this time, I am only gathering together the facts as we find them. When our investigation is completed, you will be informed of our conclusions." "I understand Captain. I hope that you are successful in solving this." "I hope that I am too... Oh, and Ambassador, both Ambassador Troi and her daughter described some of the emotions they sensed during the time of the attack." "I see." "Did you sense anything out of the ordinary during that time? I have often relied on my Counselor as a Betazoid, to provide me with what could be considered, useful, alternate aspects of a situation. Any additional information from you could prove to be quite helpful," Picard noted. "I'm afraid that I can't help you too much there Captain. Naturally, I sensed when the actual act occurred, but at the time, I was asleep and it startled me awake. I really don't recall very much of what I might have felt." "Alright, thank you for your cooperation Ambassador." ----- Deanna Troi sat alone at a table in the corner of Ten Forward. In front of her was an untouched dish of chocolate ice cream. Silently, a man approached and she sensed who it was. "Hello Deanna." "Ambassador." "'Ambassador'? Come on, no need to be formal. Let's drop the ranks. It's after five and I'm off duty," Darrion Marks said. "Well, uh, I..." "Why do I scare you?" "Scare me? What are you talking about?" Troi replied defensively. Marks began to chuckle and then he said, "You forget..." Changing the subject, Deanna said, "Um, was there something you wanted Ambass..., uh, Darrion?" "Just wanted to chat. In my line of work, I rarely get the chance to just sit down and talk with another Betazoid, especially one who's in my age group." "That's a shame," the Counselor remarked. "And what about you? Don't you miss being around other Betazoids your own age?" "Well, as busy as I've been, I really never thought about it. I HAVE been around several Betazoids, whenever they've come on board, and I do make it a point to visit Betazed whenever I get a chance." "But it's not the same, is it?" "Darrion, what are you getting at?" "Nothing. Like I said, I just wanted to chat." He then stood up and began to walk away. Deanna suddenly began to feel a flood of sadness coming from him. "Wait..." "Listen, um, I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I disturbed you. I guess I have this tendency..." Marks began. "No, I'M sorry. It's MY fault. Maybe it's just that I'm still upset over what happened on the ship. I can still feel the pain in my mind," Deanna admitted. "As do I. I'm still shaking. I just wanted some company, with one of my own. As a full Betazoid, I really got hit. You're lucky you're only half..." "How did you know? I mean..." Marks momentarily hesitated and then replied, "Uh, I heard it from some of your crewmates. I also sensed that you weren't, well... Anyway, you want a drink or something?" he quickly said, while signalling a waiter. "Looks like we're both suffering from insomnia." ----- Lwaxana Troi was propped on her sofa, reviewing information on a large thin padd. As she carefully scrolled through the data, her door chime sounded and she replied in a sing-song voice, "Come in." Commander Adama stepped inside and politely said, "Hello Lwaxana." With a big smile, the Betazoid exclaimed, "Why Commander Adama, please come in." She stood up and moved to guide him to a chair. "I just stopped by to see how you were, especially after what has happened." "Oh how sweet of you. Come sit down, let me get you something. Would you like some tea?" Lwaxana offered. "Tea would be fine," was the reply. As Lwaxana was programming the replicator, she began to speak. "You know, that's not LIKE me." Confused, Adama asked, "What's not like you?" "Oh... allowing myself to free-float with my empathy like that. I've had some bad experiences in the past so I usually maintain SOME measure of thought-blocking at all times." "Lwaxana, I'm not that familiar with full telepaths or empaths. I admit that I do possess a small amount of telepathic and telekinetic ability, which I developed through vigorous training, but how exactly does your telepathy work? Do all of your kind possess such an ability?" He paused momentarily and then said, "Forgive me my hesitation at times. To me, you appear so Human, yet I know that you are not." Mrs. Troi smiled at the comment as she handed the Commander a cup filled with a hot, fragrant liquid. "That's quite alright, Commander. Around here, Humans seem to have the upper hand. The tendency to confuse the two species is very common. Now... to answer your questions with regard to Betazoids and telepathy... Yes, most if not all of us possess some degree of telepathic and empathic ability however, to describe how it works to a non-telepath may be difficult. Suffice it to say, all I know is that it just..." She threw her hands in the air. "Works!" "Perhaps I should clarify my question. Must you be in close, physical proximity to 'feel' or 'know' what another thinks?" "Oh heavens no, Adama! If I concentrate hard enough, I can sense someone's thoughts and feelings, even when they are many kilometers away." "I see..." "For instance, I have sensed that your daughter is not too pleased with our... well, our 'friendship'." Suddenly Adama placed his cup down on the coffee table and exclaimed, "Athena? What do you mean?" Lwaxana gave Adama a sly smile and then she stood up and walked over to her desk. She placed the padd that she had been reviewing in an open slot in the holder and retrieved a new data padd. She walked back towards the table, sat back down on the sofa and said, "Just what I said, Commander. Now let me see..." She tilted her head slightly and looked up at the ceiling. "It seems she feels that too many women have been hanging around you lately and are probably more interested in your inheritance than in your mind. I BELIEVE, that's what she thinks." She then smiled again while shifting her black eyes towards his brown ones. "Lwaxana," Adama began, "what you are suggesting is..." "The truth, and you know what? What grieves me even more is that MY daughter feels the same way about me..." "YOUR daughter? You mean... Deanna?" "I'm afraid so Adama. Ever since my husband died, she's been somewhat protective over me, as if I couldn't choose my own mates," the Betazoid remarked. "I see. Perhaps telepathy is not as advantageous as I thought." "Why do you say that?" "Sometimes, I think that the thoughts and feelings of others are best left private," Adama replied with sadness. "I agree, and not that I purposely monitor very waking thought of every individual I come in contact with. It's just that, when you meet someone new, not only can you see and hear them, but you can feel them as well. Without the telepathy and the empathy, the person is only two-dimensional, but with it... they are whole, complete... and DEFINITELY much more fun to be around!" "Lwaxana, my time with you has been quite engaging and my conversations with your daughter have been as well, however, I seem to feel somewhat uneasy with your colleague." "My colleague?" Mrs. Troi inquired, knowing who he meant. "Yes, Ambassador Marks." "Oh, I see. Actually, I've known OF him only cursorily from the past, but ever since I encountered him here, I have sensed a... oh... what's a good word...?" she muttered, instinctively waving her hands in the air. "Duality! Yes, I guess 'duality' will suffice. It appears that he also hides his thoughts very thoroughly AND for extended periods of time. That's not like a Betazoid." "Well, all I can say is that despite his friendliness, there is something about him, some primordial gut reaction I get from him, that is familiar but that also makes me very wary. I don't know." He sighed heavily and then concluded, "I think I'm beginning to ramble. I had better turn in for the night. Tomorrow will be a very busy day." Adama abruptly stood and held both hands out to Lwaxana. She stood as well, walked over to him, and took the proffered hands. "Lwaxana, I have enjoyed this evening with you and I hope that we get the chance to have dinner some time." "Why Commander, I would be delighted!" she replied, blushing. "Very well. Good night then." "Good night." Adama nodded in her direction, turned and stepped through the cabin doors. In the corridor, he spotted Darrion Marks standing quietly nearby, reviewing the data padd he held in his hands. ----- Deanna Troi lay restlessly in her bed, clutching her pillow and wishing for sleep to come. She knew that she had a busy day ahead of her and only four hours before it began. She tried an often prescribed method of relaxation by concentrating on relaxing each part of her body and then moving on to the next part. As she slowly began to doze, she heard voices in her mind. She quickly blocked them out but several others remained. Suddenly, the voices switched to laughter, not joyous laughter, but maniacal laughter. She grimaced in her half-conscious state, trying to stop the sinister mirth that invaded her head. The laughter continued to increase in intensity until she abruptly awoke, shivering and drenched in sweat. A small tear trickled down her cheek as she resigned herself to yet another sleepless night. ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!news.umbc.edu!eff!news.duke.edu!solaris.cc.vt.edu!uunet!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTIONS (part 03/10) ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:14:46 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 775 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com C H A P T E R III In the early morning hours of the opening day of the Federation Membership Conference, the Grand Courtyard of the 'Trade Winds Resort and Country Club' was buzzing with workers, who were busily preparing the resort for the arrival of the representatives who had been transported by the U.S.S. Enterprise. Being one of the older sites on Pacifica's western continent, 'Trade Winds' had recently completed extensive renovations of it's facilities, and it now sparkled with the newness of all the modern-day conveniences, while retaining the charm of it's original 'colonial era'-style Earth buildings. Sprawled along kilometers of unspoiled beach, the resort boasted one of the most scenic views on the continent. The Main Building lay nestled at the top of a hill, over-looking the ocean to the west and magnificent, snow-topped mountains some distance to the east. In it's glorious past, 'Trade Winds' hosted fabulous parties for the wealthy from many Federation worlds and maintained an aristocratic penchant for formal ritual. The other so-called 'poorer cousin' resorts on either side of 'Trade Winds', often played host to scores of weary travellers and Star Fleet Officers, who sought the warmth and quiet of Pacifica for vacations and shore leave. The current proprietor, Lani Mikoa, hurriedly moved from place to place around the Main Building. Her assistant, Kelly Takahito, struggled to keep pace with her. "Those extra cabins MUST be ready for occupancy by this afternoon!!", Lani Mikoa exclaimed. "But Ma'am ..." Kelly managed. "No 'but'... Ready!! We must show that we can accommodate this many people at one time. It's been ages since we've had a major conference and we need to justify the expense of the renovation." "But we are short-staffed," Takahito complained. "Plus they want us to assign the dwellings in groups, based on their planet affiliations. That could take days to coordinate," Takahito protested. "Not days, hours! I expect it to be done by this afternoon. No excuses," Mikoa ordered. Kelly sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "It will be done on time. I promise." ----- The newly restored, open-air lobby was decorated with hanging ferns, enormous torch gingers, fragrant plumeria, and brightly colored orchids that hung from the lower branches of a live Banyan tree. The tree was the centerpiece of the resort and had been shipped there from Earth, years and years ago. Hidden within the elongated, dense roots that sprung from tree branches suspended nearly five meters above the floor, was a bar, fashioned from woven palm fronds and bamboo. Lani Mikoa, with checklist in hand, quickly inspected the bar and moved on. The Head Bartender, an older Andorian male, twitched his antennae slightly in amusement, as he observed his boss's sudden burst of hyperactivity. He slowly smiled and then resumed the inventory of his glassware. Despite the employees' irritation at having to work extra hours to prepare, all were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the delegates in the hopes of supplementing their meager incomes with the generous tips that usually came with a conference of this magnitude. Kelly raced down an open-air corridor that overlooked the pool and stopped just behind Lani. "Miss Mikoa," she said, never addressing her superior by first name. "We have opened the Southern Cove Complex to house the additional representatives." "Good. See to it that the rooms will be ready by this evening, and Kelly," she added more warmly, "I know that the past few days have been hectic for everyone, but I also know that of all my employees, I can count on you to realize how important this is to me and to yourself." "I understand. This conference has really been a godsend." "Then you also understand that it must proceed without a hitch. If we can prove to the Federation that we are capable of hosting a large- scale event such as this, we can bring this site back from obscurity and make it the way it used to be." Lani Mikoa then began to reminisce, "I remember when I first came here to work as a young and naive teenager so long ago, and I remember how I so envied the guests, with their personal servants and suitcases full of beautiful clothes and jewels. I wanted so much to be like them. I remember a Deltan delegation who stayed here once. Needless to say, everyone at the resort was swarming around them since they knew about how Deltans are with respect to, well...", she remarked with embarrassment. "Yes," Kelly giggled. "I know." "As I grew older, I learned everything I could about how things were managed. I saved all my earnings and I took classes. When this facility almost closed down from the neglect of the previous owners, I had the money to buy the place. Now I run it and I never want to see it go down like it did, ever again." "Well, I'll do everything I can to help." "Thank you Kelly. I'm counting on you," Lani replied. ----- The main auditorium at the 'Trade Winds' resort, designated the 'Hall of Nations', began to fill up with delegates, both from the Colonies and the Federation. A mood of pomp and pageantry filled the air as members of the elite Colonial Color Guard and Drill Squad stood by to await the signal to begin. Designees from the Enterprise and Galactica crews were in dress uniform, and they freely mingled among the many representatives who were present, making small talk and commenting on the lavishness of the newly restored room. A large, panoramic viewscreen behind the stage displayed the twelve seals of the Colonial Government and the seal of the United Federation of Planets, which was prominently fixed in the center. A magnificent oakwood podium sat front and center of the stage, with a UFP banner draped around it. The Governor of Pacifica approached the podium and began to lightly tap the microphone to test the audio, then began to speak. "Please delegates, take your seats. We are ready to begin." As the participants began to move towards their seats, a drum roll, soft and low, could be heard. The audience quickly settled down. After a brief period of silence, a trumpet salute brought forth the various Color Guards, who stood silently at attention. As the band began to play a rendition of the anthem "Star of Kobol", the audience immediately stood in deference. The Colonial representatives held their right arms with closed fist, across their chests in salute, as the Flag Bearers marched onto the stage. The Guard placed the twelve flags representing the twelve Colonies, behind the rows of empty chairs set up on stage for the chief dignitaries and speakers. The band then played the Federation anthem and a Federation Color Guard marched up and placed the Federation flag in the center rear. Finally, a line of dignitaries and others filed onto the stage and took their seats. With the pageantry now completed, Governor Delaplane stepped forward and continued. "Delegates, Representatives, Conference participants and other invited guests, as Governor of Pacifica, I welcome you to our planet. We are honored to have been selected by the Federation, as the host for this most important AND historic occasion. As I know that you have a very busy schedule ahead of you, I will make my remarks brief. Today, we have the coming together of a people, new to our region of space. These people, who have fled the tyranny of an enemy, have come to find peace here, amongst us. We would like to extend our hand in greeting and we wish you success at this, the first round of negotiations towards Federation membership. I would like to now turn the podium over to Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Commander of the United Federation Starship Enterprise, who has been asked to speak on behalf of the Federation membership, due to his and his crew's close ties to the Colonial Government. Captain Picard." A round of applause accompanied Picard's short walk to the podium. "Thank you Governor. I too, wish to keep my remarks brief, as I know that the real business at hand will not be the glorious speeches we give here today, but the dialogue that will soon occur behind closed doors in negotiation. My role leading up to this day, has been a unique one. One in which my crew and I had the opportunity to encounter and assist a previously unknown group of Human space-farers, who were forced to flee from their worlds, and who chose to seek out mine, the planet Earth. Earth, known to most of us here as the seat of the Federation, was but the stuff of myths and legends to them, yet fortunately, it has now been confirmed to be genuine. And so, as their representatives and our representatives sit down together to decide how best to proceed, I believe I speak for everyone in attendance today, when I say that we wish you all the best in whatever course you decide to choose. Finally, I wish to personally thank Commander Adama of the Battlestar Galactica, for his assistance, his wisdom, and his perseverance in leading his people here, and making the transition pleasant and productive. Thank you." After another round of applause subsided, the Governor again addressed the crowd. "Thank you Captain. And now I would like to present to you the man who has been asked to speak on behalf of the Colonists, the Commander of the Colonial Fleet and it's flagship, the Battlestar Galactica... Commander Adama." Adama stood and slowly walked up to the podium. He looked out at the hundreds seated in the audience and then took a deep breath to choke back the tears that threatened to burst forth from his eyes. "Thank you Governor. Delegates, Representatives, and guests, I stand before you today in wonder. Forgive me my emotion but it IS an emotional time for me and for my people." He then paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "We came here to you from a star system located a great distance away. A system comprised of twelve worlds, first colonized by a parent race, who traveled there from a planet we call Kobol. Our civilizations grew and prospered, and were peaceful for many, many generations. Over the past thousand yahren, the 'yahren' being an increment of time not too dissimilar to your 'year', we endured a war with another race, a race of mechanical beings known as Cylons. The final blow to our people came at a time when we, seeking out peace for so long, were tricked into believing that a truce was at hand. During the time of a supposed Peace Conference, we were betrayed by one of our own, our worlds were rendered defenseless, and were subsequently destroyed. When Captain Picard and his crew encountered us, in a place not far from Earth, what he found were less than two-hundred and twenty ships, all that was left of our people. Today, we begin a process of renewal and of rebuilding. I know that this process will be difficult and it will take many more sessions like this one, before we come to a final resolution, but I believe within my heart, that we will succeed, despite the setbacks that have or may occur. I wish to give my profound thanks to Captain Jean-Luc Picard and his crew for their assistance while we were seeking our lost pilots and later, when we came under attack by our enemy. The Captain's patience and understanding are qualities that I admire and appreciate the most, and I hope to have the opportunity to work with him again and often, in the future. We from the Colonies, are bound to follow the ways and wisdom of our ancestors, set down in the 'Book of the Word', and so I shall conclude my remarks with a most prophetic passage from that great book: 'And so it shall come to pass, that the people will suffer much turmoil and tribulation, and the ground will dry up and there will be no water for drink nor to bathe. And a great famine will spread upon the land and the sun will burn like ten times one hundred suns, and the corpses shall line the streets from plague, and there will be much wailing. But when these events occur, we shall take flight towards the heavens and we shall plant our seed in more fertile ground, so as to return again and multiply. Now a great war shall ensue and it will continue for ten times one hundred yahren, and the people will be sore afraid. And the land will again be burned up and the people will be forced to flee. Their journey will be difficult, but salvation shall be had for all, for the people will come together with the lost Thirteenth tribe, their brethren, and they will rejoice in the streets. But the people must endure one last great battle, to test their resolve, as there will be much death and destruction, since the enemies are strong and they are many. But they will emerge victorious, for they will join together with their brethren from the planet Earth and they will once more spread their seed in fertile soil amongst the stars, in peace, for all eternity. May the Lords of Kobol smile upon you as you read these, their holy words, given to me, a Prophet of Kobol.' On behalf of the Council of Twelve, I wish to again offer my sincere appreciation for the assistance that we have received from the Federation, and I want to again single out Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise, for his graciousness and hospitality during our time spent with him and his crew. Thank you." With that, the audience rose to its feet to give Adama a rousing standing ovation. The Galactica crew were clapping the loudest, as tears streamed down their cheeks. Adama moved back towards his seat, with moisture forming in his eyes. Picard reached to shake his hand and then instinctively reached around to fully embrace Adama warmly. The two men held each other tightly and were finally surrounded by the dignitaries on the stage. --o-- Athena, Casseopia, and Sheba strolled through the Grand Lobby of the 'Trade Winds' resort and were awed by the many different species who gathered there. They slowly walked towards the bar that was nestled inside the roots of the Banyan Tree. Two Ferengi, who appeared to be arguing back and forth with each other, suddenly turned around, jumped off their stools, and began to leer at the women. "Females..." one proclaimed. "HUMAN females," the other clarified, as he stepped towards them and offered them his stool. "I don't think that all three of us can fit on that single stool," Casseopia quipped. "Why... then you can sit on my lap," the other Ferengi giggled, while slowly circling Athena. "What ARE you?!" Athena asked, with disgust. "They are Ferengi," the Andorian bartender replied, "and they were about to leave." "But..." one of the Ferengi began. "NOW!" the Andorian thundered, his antennae now pressing close to his head. "Yes... yes, uh, of COURSE we were going to leave. In fact, uh, we are leaving RIGHT now!!!", the companion noted, while grabbing the other's ear and pulling him away. "Gee thanks," Sheba responded. "My name is Altan. What would you ladies like to have?" The three looked at each other with confusion. Then, Casseopia replied, "How about some Earth champagne... from France," she hastily added, vaguely remembering what she had the last time she was in Ten Forward aboard the Enterprise. "Very good. And the rest of you?" "The same," Sheba answered. Athena nodded her approval as well. "Well, looks like our semi-furlon has started off on an interesting note," Casseopia observed, as she looked around at the flowers draped above her. "Interesting? You call this interesting? STRANGE is more like it," Sheba replied. "What HORRID creatures. They remind me of a guy I knew back in grade school," Athena recalled. Sheba and Casseopia began to giggle. "Really," Athena continued. "It's the truth!" she insisted. "If I saw something like THAT in grade school, I'd..." Sheba began. "Here you go ladies. One for you... and one for you... AND one for YOU," Altan said. "Would you care for anything else?" The women simultaneously replied, "No, no thanks." The Andorian slowly smiled and walked away. "You know, that's the SECOND blue person I've seen today. I found out that the ship's barber is something they call a 'Bolian' and he's blue too. I wonder what THIS guy is?" Sheba remarked. "An Andorian," answered a male voice from behind them. Darrion Marks slipped up to the bar and smiled at the Galactica's Officers. "They are one of the earliest species that the Federation encountered." "Interesting," Sheba responded. "You seem to know alot about the different aliens around here." Marks chuckled and said, "Of course. Every Ambassador has to have at least a cursory knowledge of most, if not all the members of the Federation. Hell, we end up having to sit in boring meetings with them all the time, anyway!" "Well, there's something about that 'Andorian' that's kinda sexy, the way his white hair contrasts with his blue skin..." Casseopia snickered. "Yeah," Athena added, "and those, those 'things' that look like, well, like antennas..." "They ARE antennae," Marks replied. "Oh," was the response. "Listen, any of you ladies interested in going to the hula show this afternoon?" "Hula?" Sheba queried. "Oh, it's an ancient Earth dance show, very exotic." "Now THAT sounds exciting," Casseopia exclaimed. "Casseopia, why don't you bring Starbuck along?" Sheba recommended. "Why?" was Casseopia's reply. "Well... never mind." "Ambassador, tell me what time and I'll be there," Casseopia offered. --o-- Beverly Crusher and Deanna Troi leisurely walked along the shopping arcade that circled the main pool of the 'Trade Winds' resort, with bags of purchases held tightly in hand. They stopped briefly in front of a small booth that displayed tiny bottles of perfume and jars of exotic herbs. The old Bajoran woman behind the counter smiled slightly, as the two Star Fleet Officers surveyed the display. "Do you wish me to read your pagh today ladies?" the woman asked. "'Pagh'?" Crusher repeated. "Your life-force, Commander," the woman answered. "Well," Beverly responded, "I don't know. I think my 'life-force' is just fine, Miss...?" "Jaina Marroc," the Bajoran replied, "and you, Betazoid, have you ever had YOUR pagh read?" "Um, no, I'm afraid I haven't," Deanna admitted. "Your calm speech betrays your true state of being," the woman then observed. "I... I didn't get much sleep last night," the Counselor noted with a sigh. "Give me your ear," Jaina Marroc demanded. "My what? My ear?" "It is the window to your pagh," she explained. Troi looked over at Crusher and Crusher returned an 'I don't know what she's talking about' look. Troi then sighed again and stepped forward, towards the Bajoran. The woman reached up and pinched Troi's right ear, causing the Betazoid to wince at the pressure. The Bajoran snapped, "Be relaxed. Do not block your thoughts, Betazoid." A little irritated at the woman's rudeness, Troi took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and attempted to clear her mind. Jaina Marroc inhaled deeply, with eyes closed, and gradually slipped into an almost trance- like condition. Suddenly she screamed as if in pain and quickly withdrew her hand from Troi's ear, as if it were on fire. The Bajoran stood shaking, only slightly more than Deanna and Beverly were, after the unexpected outburst. "Evil!" the woman shrieked. "Evil all around," she added. She looked over at Deanna with horror and said, "You must protect yourself. Do not be deceived..." Confused, Troi replied, "What are you talking about?" "It is circling you. It is everywhere. Here, wear this..." She handed Troi a fine gold chain with a small amulet on it. "What is this?" Deanna asked, taking the small chain and holding the amulet close to try to read the inscription. "It will protect you from..." "Protect her from what?" Beverly injected. The woman sat down again and closed her eyes. She refused to speak any more. "Come on Deanna. Let's just go..." Crusher said, as she grabbed Troi's arm and tried to lead her away. Troi stood silently looking back at the woman and then down at the necklace, as she sensed the intense fear that now radiated from the Bajoran's mind. She barely heard Beverly Crusher's pleas. "Deanna, come ON!" the Enterprise Doctor begged, finally able to drag Deanna away from the table and towards another. ----- That evening, Commander William Riker leaned back in his lounge chair, with feet up and eyes closed. He struggled to purge from his mind, any thoughts of the horror from the night before. Like his colleagues, he felt that he desperately needed a break from the intensity of the investigations of the murders. As he began to doze, the door chime sounded. Startled, he instinctively responded, "Come." Ambassador Marks tentatively entered the room and looked around in fascination. "Uh Ambassador, what can I do for you?" Riker groggily asked. "Hmmm. I figured you'd forget," Marks replied. "Forget? Forget what?" "We had a poker date." "Poker. Oh yeah well... we canceled that after what happened last night. I think all of us are pretty wiped out." "I see." "Sorry, I should have let you know beforehand," Riker said apologetically. "Well, I never thought that I'd ever hear THE William T. Riker pass up a golden opportunity," Marks baited. "Huh?" "How about you and me. One on one." The First Officer managed to sit up slightly and found that his muscles had become stiff in the short time he had been in the chair. "I may have to pass on that, Ambassador," he said with a groan, as he tried to shift to a more comfortable position. "Call me Darrion. 'Ambassador' is too stuffy." "Good enough... Darrion. Maybe some other..." "WHAT other time Commander? I think it'll provide us with a welcome, therapeutic distraction. As you might know, I was affected by what happened as bad as anyone else. At least a good game of poker will take the sting out of the bite." "Well..." Riker began. "Oh come on Commander, just a few hands. I have a couple of techniques I want to try out. They're some of the moves I saw Arjus use." "'Techniques'? You mean cheating," Riker quipped, as he now moved to sit completely upright. "Well, now that's a little harsh..." "Harsh? No matter what you call it, it's STILL cheating." "You game?" With resignation, Riker said, "Okay, let's see what you got." The two men set up the table and played several rounds. After awhile, the Betazoid remarked, "So what ever happened at the 'Battle of the Century' or was it the 'Yahren' or something like that?" "The what?" "You know. That marathon poker game I heard you guys had against the Galactica crew." "Oh yeah. Boy, talk about a crazy night! I NEVER thought that Data had it in him. He actually bluffed his way through to the very end of that last hand. I mean, Lieutenant Starbuck almost gave up the shirt on his back believing that Data had something in his hand! I guess we're fortunate that we don't have an overwhelming need for money, otherwise if I were Data, I'd be sweatin'!" Riker noted. "Would you bet everything if the reward was high enough?" Marks inquired. "I think I HAVE bet 'everything', at some point in my previous young and naive days," Riker admitted with a chuckle. "I mean, would you REALLY bet EVERYTHING." "Like what else?" "Hmm. Perhaps, your service instead of money." "My service? My service for what?" Riker asked with a little apprehension. "Oh, your assistance in helping me do some things." "Marks, you're hedging. What kinds of things are you talking about?" Feigning embarrassment, the Ambassador said, "Actually, I need your advise on talking to... well actually, dealing WITH certain people. You seem to know most of the crew on board this ship, at least to a certain degree. I'd like to talk to some of them. There may be alot of interests that they have in common with me. I don't often get the time to socialize that much." "I see, and if I win?" "If you win, then you get to keep this..." Darrion Marks quickly replied, holding up a clear crystal with a tiny red object visibly lodged within it. "What's this?" Riker asked while taking the crystal and turning it around in his hands. "It's something I won from Arjus. It's allegedly a Trellian healing stone. Supposedly, if you hold it tightly and concentrate, you can actually heal injuries. I believe your Captain is probably familiar with the legend." "Interesting. I never really had much of an interest in esoteric objects like this, but... since you are a guest, I'll give it a try. Besides, what could I possibly lose?" --o-- Athena slowly walked down the corridor and stopped in front of Deanna Troi's door. She hesitated for a moment and then pushed the button that sounded the door chime. "Come in," came a voice from within. Athena stepped forward to activate the door mechanism and then peeped inside without entering. Troi sighed and responded, "Come on in Athena." "You're not busy, are you? I didn't want to disturb..." "No, please come in. Sit down," Deanna offered. Athena slowly walked over to a chair and eased into it. The two women then began to simultaneously talk. "Look, I'm..." "They both stopped short and began to laugh. "You go first," Troi said. "Okay. I JUST wanted to say that I really acted like an immature child the other night and I want to apologize," Athena explained. "You? I think that MY performance deserves an award!" the Counselor admitted, with a giggle. "Deanna... I... well, I'm not sure you understand how I feel. I guess you can read my emotions right now, but I'm just trying to look after my father, that's all. I don't think that he's taking the time to take care of himself like he should. He and Apollo tend to go off on some wild tangents sometimes, egging each other on, and... you know." "Yes, I know. I feel the same way about my mother. I think... I think maybe it's loneliness, PLUS she IS still going through 'the change', which we on Betazed call 'the phase', and with Betazoids, it's pretty rough," Deanna noted. "Yeah, I DEFINITELY don't look forward to THAT day," was Athena's reply. "Well let me tell you something, with Betazoid women, it's worse than you think." Really? You mean like, real bad sweats and..." "I MEAN they get real..." she bent over and whispered in Athena's ear, "horny." Athena sat up and began to shake her head in confusion. "Horny? I'm not familiar ..." Deanna sighed and said, "Very sexually excited." Athena opened her eyes wide and exclaimed, "OH!" She then began to blush. "Actually, maybe THAT might not be so bad after..." "UH, I don't think so," Deanna countered. "Anyway, it's not that I object to my mother and your father being together, it's just that... well... she has a tendency to be a little pushy at times. She can be quite overwhelming." "I see. Well, don't worry Deanna. I think that if anybody can handle her, my father can. Besides, I think that he gets lonely, too. Anyway, I'd rather have him with your mother than any one of those witches from Virgo ANY day!" "Athena!!" Troi giggled. "Now THAT'S no way to describe..." "It's true! All they care about is his money. It's really sad," Athena remarked. "Don't worry. My mother has her own wealth and status, and if she feels that your father can provide her companionship, even for a brief period, then that's fine with me." Troi paused and then looked at Athena and added, "No hard feelings?" Athena stood up and joined Deanna on the sofa, replying with her trademark smile, "No hard feelings." They then sealed their agreement with an exaggerated handshake. "Hey, the 'girls' are getting together again this evening. Wanna stop by?" Athena offered. "We want to talk about doing something... with Data... remember?" "Sure. Where?" "At Casseopia's on Deck 9. In about a centaur." "Centaur? Athena!" Deanna exclaimed. "Geez, I don't know! I think you call it an 'hour', but a centaur seems LONGER than that!" "Okay, make it an hour and a half then," was the reply. ----- "So I say we just DO IT!" Casseopia giggled to the three other women in her quarters. Deanna Troi began shaking her head 'no', while smiling with embarrassment. "Oh come on Deanna, with the Conference going on, it's vacation time! We DID promise to do SOMETHING together and I think that now would be the PERFECT time. At least it'll help get your mind off of what happened. Besides, we made ALL those plans about you know who, so LET'S DO IT!" Sheba pleaded. "Yeah, I think it would be fun!" Athena added. "By the way, we're missing one of our partners in crime. Where's Beverly?" Casseopia asked. The door chime sounded. "Come in," Casseopia responded. "There we go! The five conspirators are all together and ready for action!" Sheba giggled. "Did I miss anything?" Beverly Crusher innocently asked. "Not really," Athena piped up. "We were JUST starting to talk about what we were going to do." "Good," Crusher remarked, as she propped herself in a comfortable position on the sofa and then leaned forward in anticipation. "So what do we have so far?" "Well, Deanna was considering welshing out on us but..." Casseopia began. Troi shot her a 'oh no you don't' look. Casseopia continued with, "She did suggest we try what she says is sort of a tradition on some of Earth's islands. What did you call it? A luau?" "Ooooooo PERFECT!" Crusher replied with excitement. I have just the right outfit! We can even make leis with real flowers. That'll be wonderful!" "Exactly what do you do at one of these 'luaus' and how would Data fit in to this plan?" Athena asked. The Chief Medical Officer looked over at Deanna and quickly turned away blushing. "Stick with me ladies, this is guaranteed to be a time we shall NEVER forget! But we'll need Will Riker's help." ----- Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge and Lieutenant Commander Data were hunched over an Engineering panel, each methodically pressing various areas on the panel's surface in an effort to elicit from the ship's computers, the answers to their various queries. "Geordi?" Data began. "Do you find me... boring?" The now baffled Chief Engineer looked up at him and replied, "What kind of question is that?" He then resumed his review of a screenful of numbers. "I have noted that ever since we made contact with the Humans from the Colonial Fleet, most of them seem to, well... avoid me," the android responded. "Why do you say that?" Geordi asked while picking up a diagnostic padd and entering figures into it. "Let me give you an example. Early this morning, I was talking to some of the farmers from the Agro ship. During our conversation, I found that they appeared to be physically uncomfortable. They suddenly interrupted me and stated that they had to leave at that precise moment." "Well, what were you talking about?" "I was explaining to them how they could better achieve an optimum soil composition by introducing certain percentages of decomposed..." "Whoa Data. Hold on. First off, how did you meet these people?" Geordi asked. "I believe that they were being given a tour by the Department Head of the Botany Lab as a prelude to their negotiation session." "And how did the subject of soil composition come up?" "Actually, it did not," the Second Officer admitted. "When I ascertained their occupation, I chose to discuss some of the aspects of it with them. Is that not the proper way to proceed? I have found that Humans seem to enjoy discussing those subjects that interest them." "Geordi smiled, placed a data chip into a slot and then said, "And how do you know that 'soil composition' would interest them?" "I assumed that..." "There's your problem Data. You 'assumed'. You see," he began to explain, "to many people, their work or occupation may be more palatable to them than to others but it may not be a subject they always enjoy discussing." Confused, Data remarked, "I do not understand. You are suggesting that some Humans do not like the work that they do." "Well, not really, although you do run into people who aren't exactly in an occupation that they are particularly fond of. I guess the best way to describe it is to say that, well... that many times we will 'tolerate' our jobs but we might not be head over heels about it. It's just a job, you know?" Data began to frown as he asked, "But then, if the 'job' as you say, does not bring you pleasure, then why continue to do it?" "I can't answer that one Data. Maybe... maybe it's because some people are good at what they do and don't mind doing it. But, when they're done for the day, they just want to relax. You know, leave the talk about work at the worksite. I guess they don't like to bring their jobs home with them." "I see. If that is the case, then how will I ever be able to predict whether a person fits the criteria you just described?" La Forge put the padd down and then looked directly at his friend. "Now THAT'S a tough one Data and I really can't help you there. It's just a matter of trial and error. I guess you have to probe them. Ask questions. See what types of things THEY want to talk about." "I have tried that in the past Geordi. I still find that my conversations and inquiries are abruptly cut off and I am left 'holding' the proverbial 'bag', as it were." Geordi reached over to another panel and pressed the surface a few times. "Well Data, you're gonna have to keep trying. Proper social etiquette doesn't come overnight. It takes some practice. Be patient." "I have all the patience in the world Geordi," Data noted while resuming his diagnostic scans. "In fact, I cannot grow impatient, however, I am striving to find more ways to appear.... normal." ----- Later that evening, the two Senior Officers were deep in conversation, as they walked down the corridor towards a turbolift. "Geordi, do you think that if I make it a point to attend more social functions, I will be able to improve my 'sense of timing'?" Data asked. "Sure Data. As they say, 'practice makes perfect'. At least since you have no emotions, you can't get insulted, so, I say go for it," Geordi replied. "Geordi, I have found that Human women tend to talk about subjects that are quite different from those of Human men." "Don't I know it," Geordi La Forge mumbled, as the two stepped in a turbolift. "Deck 8," he then ordered. "Perhaps," Data continued, "I should endeavor to sit in on a conversation with some of the..." "Uh Data," the Chief Engineer interrupted, "I don't think that THAT'S a good idea." "But you said..." "Data, you don't have to sit in with women to learn how to talk to them. I doubt that you'd understand them anyway. But then again, look who's talking..." "Commander Riker has suggested that I start out 'innocent' and then 'lay the sweet talk on them'. I do not understand the full context of that phrase," the Second Officer admitted, as the two stepped out of the 'lift and began to walk towards Data's quarters. Geordi began to chuckle at the mention of Riker's techniques. "Suffice it to say Data, he MEANS that women like to be flattered, you know, told how beautiful they are and how wonderful it is to be with them, stuff like that. They prefer that men initiate the action." "I see. Perhaps you can coach me on some typical phrases." The two stepped through the door of Data's quarters and Geordi stopped in mid-step, opened his mouth wide in disbelief, and slowly turned his head around to fully absorb what he saw. "Whoa Data, I... I think... it's... time... for me to leave! I'll see you later!" he stated, as he quickly spun around while stifling a giggle, and exited the cabin. Data turned around in confusion and called after him. "Geordi! Wait! Why are you..." "Hello Commander Data," a sing-song voice announced from the bedroom. "Who is here?" Data asked with curiosity, while slowly walking around his cabin, which had been transformed from a spare but adequate set of rooms, into a tropical, floral fantasy. Strings of plumeria and ginger were draped around the walls. Large palm fronds were arranged in the corners. Spot sat contently on the computer workstation, licking her paws, and soft island music played in the background. Casseopia, dressed in a deep blue and pink pareau, slowly walked up to the confused android, placed a lei around his neck, and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. She then grabbed both of his hands and guided him towards his bedroom. There on the bed were four women, lounging pleasantly, each dressed in a multitude of colorful dresses, and each leisurely sipping frosty drinks. Deanna Troi stood up, sashayed over to the android, and cooed, "Welcome to paradise, Mister Data." She then placed a string of kukui nuts around his neck and smiled. Totally perplexed, Data remarked, "Counselor, I do not understand. According to Commander Riker, are not the men supposed to..." "Just relax Data, and enjoy yourself," Sheba replied as she moved behind him to push him towards the bed. "Don't worry about what Commander Riker says..." ----- "Ambassador Marks, you wished to see me?" Lieutenant Worf inquired, as he stood outside of Darrion Marks' quarters. "Ah yes Worf, please come in." Worf entered the sightly darkened cabin and immediately spotted a small table in the center of the room, decorated with flowers, a small, scented candle, and two cups. "What is this?" he asked with confusion. Marks slowly smiled and began, "About ten years ago, I met your brother Kern at a small Klingon outpost near the border. It must have been right after I left Betazed and I decided that instead of looking for a 'real job', I wanted to 'see the galaxy'. How naive. Well, I signed onto a freighter and one day, we stopped at a bar on this outpost and..." "Ambassador, this is really very interesting but... what is the point?" "The point? The 'point' IS, is that I got very drunk that night and picked a fight with your brother. Needless to say, he was quite drunk too..." Impatiently, Worf grumbled, "AND???!!" "And... well, having had some experiences with interesting fights on that freighter, I successfully knocked your brother out." "YOU???" Worf said with disbelief. "THAT is impossible." "If you don't believe me, you can contact him this very minute. But then again, I'm sure that he wouldn't admit it." "Even if I WERE to believe you, what does that have to do with me?" "Well, let me finish the story. After Kern woke up and everyone at the bar told him what happened, he decided to try and trick me into partaking in the 'Tea Ceremony'." "Hmmm. Clever. And what happened next, being that for Humanoids such as yourself, the 'Tea Ceremony' is fatal." "Ah, so I found out after drinking the damned stuff. Unfortunately, I almost died that night. Fortunately, the Medical Official on the outpost had the antidote." "And so you called me all the way to your quarters to tell me this?" "Actually, I called you here to try my luck again. You see, I have never forgotten that night and so since then, I have slowly ingested the poison over these past ten years, and I believe that I now have an immunity to it. So... for Kern's sake, as I hear that he is now a member of the Klingon High Council, I offer my congratulations to you, his elder brother, in his place, and I wish to partake in the ceremony with you." "Hmmm," Worf replied, now impressed. "You are to be commended." "Unfortunately, I don't have the proper flower to conduct..." "I have a supply. I WILL return." "Excellent." ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!noc.near.net!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTIONS (part 04/10) ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:15:38 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 420 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com C H A P T E R IV Early the next morning, the Enterprise barber was fuming. His blue face twitched in frustration, as he stormed down the hallway towards his office. "Idiot!!! Always late. You can't find good hired help these days. Can't come on time. Here we had the PERFECT opportunity, with all these dignitaries on board..." Mot mumbled to himself. He continued to ramble on until he reached the doors to his grooming area. Just as he stepped inside and was about to yell for his assistant, Mot stopped cold and began to choke on the acrid smoke that filled the room. He ran back into the corridor and punched a button on the Comm panel. "Mot to Security, fire in the barber room. I repeat, fire in the barber room. The fire suppression system has malfunctioned. HURRY!" ----- Sometime later, Jean-Luc Picard and Mr. Mot met in Captain's Ready Room for a debriefing. "Please Mr. Mot. Calm down." "Calm down? CALM DOWN??? How can I calm down when one of my assistants was killed. KILLED!!! No doubt by one of those, those, what do they call themselves? Colonists...?" Picard sighed and then responded calmly, "Mr. Mot, we don't know that yet." "Hmph! A fire. A FIRE! How could THAT have happened. WHY wasn't the fire suppression system operational? Can you tell me that? Can you?" "No Mr. Mot, not yet. Please, we will have Mr. Worf's report shortly." "Shortly? That's what they all say. You know, I remember that time when I was on Seltrus IV and a similar thing happened. You realize, of course, that the Seltrans..." The door chime sounded, interrupting the barber's explanation. "Come," Picard quickly replied, thankful for the brief respite. Data, Geordi, and Worf entered the room. "Thank God," Picard mumbled imperceptibly. "Gentlemen, what have you found?" "YES gentlemen, what IS IT that you have found, being that I was THIS CLOSE," the Bolian indicated with his forefinger and thumb, "to DEATH!" Geordi looked over at the barber and mumbled, "Uh..." Worf turned his head and rolled his eyes. Data looked around at his colleagues and then proceeded to speak. "Captain, we thoroughly searched the room and analyzed the computer system in that entire section." Geordi followed up with, "Basically Captain, we took the whole thing apart, piece by piece, and ran a complete diagnostic." "And what did you find?" Geordi started to speak and then hesitated, looking down at his boots. Data proceeded with, "Nothing sir. We found that all of the computer systems, including fire control, was and still is functioning properly in that area." "Then why didn't it work??" Mot exclaimed. "That, we do not know," Data replied. "Captain," Geordi began, "we did find another thing. We tried analyzing them but we're still unable to determine what they are. Worf?" Worf then held up two round, transparent, cut-crystals. "Have you been able to determine their composition?" Picard asked. "Analysis shows that they are composed of minerals that are unknown to the Federation," Geordi replied. "We are now searching the databanks for substances from non-Federation worlds," Data added. "I see. Well keep at it. You may also want to get Barclay involved in re-running the diagnostics on the..." The chime again sounded in the Ready Room. "Come." Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck entered the room. "Captain, Lieutenant, what can I do for you?" Picard inquired. "We heard that there was another incident," Apollo said tersely. "I'm afraid so. We're still investigating it," was Picard's reply. "Captain Picard, perhaps they might know what these objects are," Data suggested. "What objects?" Starbuck asked. Geordi took the crystals from Worf, walked over to the two Colonial Warriors and said, "These. We found them at Mot's." "Lemme see. Hmmm... Those look like Borellian Laser Balls!" Starbuck exclaimed. "Borellian Laser..." Mot began. Sighing, Apollo said, "The Borellian Nomen. They are humans who settled on a planet they called Borella, located near our star system. Some of their delegates are aboard." "Are you sure? So far we can't figure out what their composition is OR what their purpose is, other than maybe for decorative use," Geordi explained. "Decorative use? Not hardly Commander. Here, let me show you," Starbuck volunteered. He took the two crystals, rotated them a certain way, and then pressed them together. The crystals remained attached. He then handed the pair back to Geordi. "Yep, those are laser balls alright. Pretty nasty suckers too," Starbuck concluded. "What are they designed to do?" Geordi asked. "The Borellian Nomen use them as weapons, Commander. When a Nomen pulls a pair from their belt, they are then activated, somewhat like a grenade," Apollo said. "Somehow, these balls begin to build up energy and when you throw them, they separate, forming a pretty intense laser beam between them," Starbuck added. "A beam strong enough to take out ANY person in the way. I know, I was almost 'in the way' of some of these babies not too long ago," Starbuck admitted. "Strange. Why would these 'Borellian Nomen' wish to attack Mr. Mot's assistant?" Data asked. "I don't know Commander but I'll tell you this, the Nomen rarely intermingle with anyone but themselves. They consider themselves 'warriors' and consider the rest of us weak and not worth their time," Apollo noted. "Maybe they're on a blood hunt," Starbuck suggested. "Blood hunt?" Picard echoed with concern. "Captain, I really don't want to get into that now. All I can say is that I can't see any logic in suggesting that the Borellians would attack someone aboard this ship. They're nomads and if anything, they're also very, very good about leaving no trace of their attacks. They definitely wouldn't go after someone and then carelessly leave their laser balls around for someone to find later," Apollo stated. "That's for sure," Starbuck agreed. "Alright. At least we do have part of this mystery resolved. But I will NOT rule anything out. Captain Apollo, will you work with my Chief Engineer to confirm these findings?" Picard requested. "If you feel that I can be of some help, I'll try to do the best I can," Apollo replied. "Any assistance that you can provide will be much appreciated." ----- The doors to the Holodeck slowly opened and Athena tentatively stepped inside. Her mouth gaped in wonder and she spun around to take in the amazing site. "How can this be?? I mean, this is REALLY the Presidium on Caprica!!" she exclaimed. "Actually, it's only a copy of it. I was able to get the details on how it looks from the databanks on the Galactica." "But everything is so real!! The flowers, the flags, the breeze..." "Remarkable technology, isn't it?" "We had hoped and prayed that the people from Earth would be advanced enough to help us fight the Cylons, but we NEVER imagined anything like this." "Well, for your information, it's not just 'people from Earth'," Darrion Marks commented, with a wry smile. "Huh? OH! Oh, I'm so sorry. I keep forgetting that you're not from Earth but from Betazed. I can't help it. You LOOK so Human!" Athena stated apologetically. "Why not say that Humans look so much like us?" Marks quipped. Athena began to slowly grin as she said, "Hmmm. I GUESS you could think of it that way. You know, it's been difficult for us since we really haven't run into very many species other than Humans, except for maybe the Cylons or the Orions. I mean, during the war, most of our resources were diverted to the war effort. Our deep space exploration program suffered immeasurably." "I can see that. Anyway, come on, show me around this place. You can also tell me some things about yourself and your friends." Totally enthralled, Athena complied. ----- Jean-Luc Picard nervously paced back and forth across the floor of his Ready Room while he listened to another report from his Senior Command Officers. "So what we have is a handful circumstantial evidence and a number of individuals or groups who appear to have motives for what has occurred. What we now need to do is to try to see if there is any connection between these events, or somehow determine if each act occurred by coincidence. Comments? Suggestions?" Picard asked. "Captain, after reviewing the evidence that we have found so far, the only thing that I can conclude is that these acts may have been carried out to precipitate or cause a desired effect," Data suggested. "How do you mean?" "Before the Conference began, there were some divisions of opinion with respect to what the Colonists wished to do, but generally, those differences could be worked out. Now, there appears to be much more turmoil and distrust, not only among the Colonial Representatives but between the Federation and the Colonists. There are groups who are now openly voicing anti-Federation views and sentiments." "What sort of 'sentiments'? Picard inquired. "For example, " Data began, "some of the Federation delegates have reported that some of the Colonial delegates have begun to accuse Star Fleet of stalling the investigations, on purpose." "That's ridiculous," the previously silent Riker exclaimed. "They also believe that we are 'pointing the finger at them', as the cause for what has happened. Unfortunately, this has caused a rift in relations between the two sets of delegates." "Wait a minute Data, that's a little vague," the First Officer remarked. "If someone wanted to disrupt the Conference, they would usually do it for some concrete reason, with some goal in mind." "Commander, at the present time, the facts do not yet lead us to that conclusion," Data protested. "Then, we will need to uncover more facts," Picard noted. "Continue your investigations and have Mr. Worf interrogate the Borellian Nomen delegation. I believe that HE may be able to deal with them better than we have." ----- Jean-Luc Picard slowly walked through the doors of Ten Forward, crossed the room, and finally eased onto a stool at the far end of the bar. He then began to rub his temples to try to ease his throbbing headache. "Looks like you need some aspirin," a woman behind the bar suggested. "Some what?" "Aspirin. Isn't that what the people from twentieth century Earth used to call their 'miracle drug'? "That's ridiculous." "Not to them it wasn't. Oh, nowadays, we know that there's always a physiological reason for a headache, and we can treat the problem at the source. But back then..." "Guinan..." "Here, try this. It's guaranteed to cure the 'common headache', or was that 'the common cold'?" "What is it?" "Oh, something I just whipped together. A bit of Andorian brandy mixed with Jandar nectar. Actually, it's pretty good, if I must say so myself." "You know, all these years I've considered myself to be very, very fortunate. I've come to believe that I am an open and honest individual. When I was faced with a problem, I have always preached about the limitless possibilities available to solve it. But now, after what has happened, I'm beginning to seriously doubt my abilities," Picard lamented. "YOU may WANT to believe that, but I for one, do not," Guinan replied. "Guinan, somewhere, aboard this ship, either from the Federation or from the Colonial Fleet is a killer, and so far I have been unable to stop him or her. The motive seems obvious. Someone or something wants to see these talks fail. If I could just get some sort of lead, uncover some clue that will link..." "Why would you say that sabotaging these talks would be 'the' motive?" Guinan taunted. "Oh come on Guinan, I've been to the Galactica. I've talked to their representatives and their people. Believe me, there's enough discord there to spark a civil war at any time." "And so based on what you have observed, you came to the conclusion that there is someone from the Colonial Fleet who is responsible." "Guinan..." Picard warned. "I see what you're driving at but... I can't see where it would be in the Federation's interest to do something like this. What would be the gain?" "I see. So then you totally rule out things that you haven't observed." "What do you mean?" "I learned a long, long time ago to never accept the obvious. I will offer you some advice. Sometimes some things or some situations do not always appear to be what they really are." ----- The Betazoid Ambassador stood shivering in his darkened cabin. Across the room, a figure stood rigidly in the shadows. The Ambassador then began to speak. "What more do you wish me to do? I have thus far done all that you have asked." "It is not enough." "But..." Darrion Marks began. "Your methods are sloppy and easily traceable. You have not yet achieved the desired results." "But it's working. I have become friends with all of them. I've told them lies and half-truths. Now they have begun to distrust each other and..." "We made a bargain. I have upheld my end and you have not." "But what more can I do? Soon they will be eating out of my hand, begging for..." "YOUR hand?? THAT is the problem. Since I have identified the problem, I shall now move to correct it," the figure calmly stated. "What do you mean?" Marks exclaimed. "I WANT Picard. HE has the confidence and the trust of the people. HE controls them. I have dealt with Adama before and right now, he is useless to me, for he has no power here." "But... I can't get to Picard. He keeps sending me..." "I will continue in your place," the figure continued, ignoring the man's pleas, "since you have so obviously missed the whole point." "Point? What are you... ARGHhhh..." Marks began to choke and turn red in the face. Then his eyes began to bulge. He dropped to his knees and tried to scream, but to no avail. He struggled to place his hands around the stranger's neck, to choke the arrogance out of him, but failed miserably. He finally fell forward onto his stomach and closed his eyes tightly, the better to try to imagine a more pleasant death than he was experiencing. The stranger slowly walked towards the body of Darrion Marks and stood over it. He then began to transform into a glowing cloud of light, which hovered over the body briefly before merging with it. Suddenly Darrion Marks' eyes snapped open. --o-- Lani Mikoa sat motionless in her small bungalow, staring blankly into the flame of her candle. She then closed her eyes and shivered as she felt impending doom closing in all around her. She suddenly stood up and reached for a small Comm panel located on a nearby table. "Kelly? Could you come right away?" Within minutes, Lani's assistant was knocking lightly on the door. When Lani opened it, she watched as Kelly gasped slightly and then quickly suppressed it. No doubt, Kelly was reacting to her disheveled state. "Please come in. We must talk," Lani ordered. Kelly tentatively stepped inside the room and Lani motioned her towards a chair. "The time is near. You must carry on," Lani flatly stated. Kelly, now totally confused, exclaimed, "Miss Mikoa! What has happened? What is wrong?" Lani sighed and turned her back to Kelly as she walked over to her chair and began to stare into the candle flame again. "It is time. He is here. Whatever happens, I want you to remember everything that I have taught you. Will you promise?" Frustrated, Kelly exclaimed, "I don't understand, who is here? What are you...?" "Don't question! Promise!" "Yes, yes, I'll do anything. You know that." "Good. That will be all." "But..." "Leave me." Kelly slowly stood and began to feel the heaviness in the room. She swallowed hard before nodding her head at her boss, and then she turned and walked towards the door. "Kelly? One other thing." Kelly halted and turned to listen. Lani stood and walked towards an ornate chest, pushed against the wall. She retrieved and old, metal key, that hung on a chain around her neck, and unlocked the chest. She then raised the heavy lid, lifted out a small gold box, and handed it to Kelly. "This is for you. Do not open it until tomorrow." "What is...?" "If you open it before tomorrow," Lani interrupted, "I shall surely curse you for the rest of your life," she threatened. "I will not open it," Kelly stated obediently. "Good," Lani replied as she sadly nodded at Kelly Takahito and motioned her towards the door. Kelly looked around once more before leaving, closing the door softly behind her. A figure then stepped out of the shadows in the room and said, "It is time." Angrily, Lani turned and confronted the stranger. "You have NOT completed YOUR end! I have YET to have..." "SILENCE!! Do you DARE question ME??? I HAVE kept my side of the bargain and you will now keep yours." "You ARE deceitful. I should have NEVER agreed to..." "But you HAVE agreed, and if you resist, you will forfeit your..." Lani suddenly pulled out a small gold object and thrust it out towards the figure. The stranger laughed and remarked, "You really expect ME to fear that primitive icon you hold so dear to your heart? I shall enjoy watching you suffer. My plan is now in effect. The gathering of my followers has begun. It is a pity that you will not be there to join them." The figure than began to transform into a hideous beast and Lani gasped, grabbed her head, and opened her mouth in a silent scream. ----- Jean-Luc Picard stood in the middle of a thick forest, not far from his family homestead in La Barre, France. Confused, he turned around in a full circle to get his bearings. He spotted a narrow, but well-worn path through the thick undergrowth, and he began to follow it. He heard the 'snap' of a twig behind him and he turned quickly to see if anyone was there. Satisfied that he was alone, he continued to navigate around fallen branches and thick ivy vines, towards the main road. He stopped again as he heard peals of laughter, soft at first, but then growing louder over time. He turned around again to be confronted by a large group of people, who brandished hatchets and pitchforks and who were pointing and laughing loudly and ominously at him. "Death to him!" one proclaimed. They all agreed and continued to laugh and chant, "Death! Death! Death!" As the crowd surged forward, towards him, the Enterprise Captain abruptly sat up in his bed, shaking violently from the intensity of the dream. He took a deep breath, threw the coverlet to the side, and then stood up next to the bed. Rubbing the grogginess from his eyes, he slowly padded over to the food dispenser and ordered a warm milk with a touch of nutmeg. He took the glass, drank the contents down in one gulp, and then returned to bed. He lay there stiffly, closed his eyes, and finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep. --o-- Kelly awoke early the next morning and began to make her rounds around the resort. She arrived promptly at seven for her daily staff meeting and was concerned when Lani Mikoa did not answer the door chime at her office. Kelly tentatively turned the knob and stepped inside. The office was just as she had seen it the night before but was now empty. She had opened the small box that Lani gave her and was confused by its contents - the deed to the resort and several bars of gold pressed latinum. Kelly proceeded to search through he Main Lobby for Lani, stopping at each shop and restaurant, and then finally at the bar. "Altan, have you seen Miss Mikoa?" she inquired. The Andorian slowly looked up at the worried assistant, twitched his antennae and said, "No. I have not seen the Mistress since last night." Mindful of Lani's strange behavior and words the night before, Kelly raced down the steps from the Lobby and towards the beach, where Lani Mikoa's small abode was located. As she walked along the garden that surrounded the main pool, she suddenly gasped and fell to her knees in horror at what she saw. Bloated and floating in the center of the pool face down, was Lani Mikoa. ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!noc.near.net!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTIONS (part 05/10) ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:16:28 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 515 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com C H A P T E R V "So what have they found?" Picard queried to Beverly Crusher. "Well, the doctors on Pacifica have ruled it a drowning. The Security teams say that they have found no sign of foul play." "Drowning? Do YOU believe that?" "I don't know. I really can't make a judgement call on it since they won't release the body to me," Crusher noted. Picard stood up and began to pace around the small room. "Beverly, do you feel that this drowning may somehow be connected to the other...." "Now wait a minute, Jean-Luc," Crusher interrupted, "those other killings happened on the ship. This one was on the planet surface." "Yes but if I'm not mistaken, there hasn't been a death, other than by natural causes, on Pacifica for years. They pride themselves in their security." "But Jean-Luc, they've ruled it an 'accidental death'," the doctor exclaimed. "Indeed," Picard replied warily. "I knew Lani Mikoa from years ago. She used to work a shift from time to time at the 'Blue Parrot Cafe', in her younger days. I remember she was always hustling for money. As you can see, she apparently managed to save every bit to buy the 'Trade Winds'. She was of Hawaiian ancestry, if I recall correctly, and I would highly doubt that her 'drowning' would have been 'accidental'." "I think you're grasping at straws Jean-Luc, BUT, I'll go over the medical report ONE MORE TIME, to see if I missed anything. I doubt if I have, though. Oh, and if you can manage to pull any strings with the Governor..." "Yes, I think I'll do just that. If we can somehow link this with the others... see if there is a pattern somewhere..." "Good luck Jean-Luc. I'm not holding out much hope," Beverly replied. "It's worth a try. We're at a dead end as it is..." As Crusher headed for the door, Picard reached out to grab her arm. "Beverly..." The doctor turned to look at him and registered some concern as she watched his previously business-like demeanor switch to that of a frightened child. "Jean-Luc, are you alright?" she inquired. Picard sighed as he began to explain. "I had an unusual dream last night. I was back home in France, somewhere in the woods near my house, when I encountered a, well..., a 'mob' of people who were laughing and pointing at me. They then started yelling 'DEATH!' at me, and fortunately I awoke at the precise moment that they tried to... to attack me." Beverly looked at him sympathetically as she related a similar dream that she had had recently. "I think, Jean-Luc, that it's a coincidence. With all the excitement of the Conference AND after what's happened on board the ship, I think that all of us need a break." "I guess, I guess that must be it. It just seems rather odd that I should dream about something like this and then awake the next morning to find that someone else has been killed." "Drowned, Jean-Luc. Accidently 'drowned'," Crusher firmly corrected. Picard sighed and relented, "Drowned." "I'll see you later," she responded. Picard solemnly nodded as she left the room. ----- "Listen, if what you say is true, then I'm interested," the blond-haired Lieutenant remarked to Darrion Marks. "Then you WILL come with me." "How will we get there? What about Star Fleet?" Starbuck asked. "Don't worry about that. I've arranged transportation. We're due to rendezvous with the 'others'. Are you with me?" "Well, that's a tough..." "Don't hedge Starbuck. You're either in or out. I have gathered together hundreds to follow me. Now you either..." "Alright, alright, just let me get my things." "Quickly, before they try to stop us." ----- Captain Apollo stood shaking his head in disbelief as he listened to his Junior Officer, Lieutenant Starbuck, in Starbuck's quarters aboard the Enterprise. "Listen Apollo, I've made my decision. I wanna go back," Starbuck remarked, as he gathered together his belongings. "Go back? Go back where? What are you talking about?" Apollo replied. "Look, don't try and stop me. I know what I'm doing." "Starbuck," Apollo began again, "what are you talking about? The Caprican delegation has decided to settle on Earth." "Well I'm not and I'm not the only one. You know, all this time I've realized that I've been really fooling myself. Going along with the program, trying to save our people from the Cylons. Running away, ALWAYS running away, like a bunch of cowards. Well I'm tired of running, buddy. It's time to fight back," Starbuck insisted. "Starbuck, have you lost all your senses? You can't possibly..." "I'm serious Apollo and this time we'll have the fire power to do it. I'm telling you, we're fools if we don't' take advantage of..." Apollo turned away and began to pace around the small cabin. "I can't believe I'm hearing what I'm hearing, and from YOU of all people. I mean, assuming you DO decide to go back..." "And I have," Starbuck interrupted. "Alright, assuming that you do go back, how will you get there? It took us nearly a yahren to get this far and you know the Commander will NEVER authorize anything like that." "Don't worry Apollo, we've got all the resources we'll need." "From who? Star Fleet won't go along with this either." "Who said anything about 'Star Fleet'? Look, I gotta go." "What about Casseopia? What about..." "Could you tell her for me buddy? I... I can't. We'd end up arguing again." "What about Blue Squadron? You can't just..." "I've already handed in my resignation. I've thought this over for a long time and I believe I'm right. No tearful goodbyes for me Captain. Just wish me luck." "It's that Ambassador, isn't it? What was his name? Darrion Marks?" "Huh?" "He talked you into this, didn't he?" "Hey come on, now that's not..." "Lately, I've noticed him also cozying up to Athena and especially to Sheba." "Now wait just a centon..." "He's got your mind so twisted around that you don't even know if you're coming or going. In fact, I've seen him hanging around the Senior Officers from the Enterprise too." "Look Apollo, believe me, it didn't take some mind-reading alien who looks like a Human, to convince ME to take the chance to fight for my home planet..." "Really? So then you mean you plan on joining that group... what did they call themselves? 'Return Now!'?" "Uh, I don't need any group to..." "Look, if you've made up your mind to go, then go." "That's right, and I plan on doing just that. I... I just don't want to leave it like THIS." "Like what? You expect me to go along with you?" "No, I don't... and I guess I never will. Look Apollo, we grew up under very different circumstances. I mean, I was a poor orphan who ended up being shuttled from family to family in my childhood. You had a famous father who commanded a Battlestar and who sat on the Council of the Twelve. You lived a truly privileged life. I've always been rough and tumble, you know, a 'country boy' type and you're..." "That's ridiculous Starbuck. If I follow your line of reasoning, then I would have more to lose if I DIDN'T go with you. But I've dealt with the fact that you can't always have everything you want in life. There comes a time when you have to accept your circumstances and move on. I just can't see the feasibility of trying to fight for our worlds now, while we're still weak and disorganized." "Well now that's just it, isn't it? The people interested in doing this don't consider themselves as 'weak and disorganized'. Anyway, just... just wish me luck, okay? No hard feelings?" Apollo sighed heavily as he looked deeply into Starbuck's bright, blue eyes. He then reached for Starbuck's outstretched hand and the two finally embraced and patted each other on the back. "Take care of yourself Starbuck," Apollo stated. "You know I will. I always have," Starbuck teasingly replied. "Oh, and tell Boxey that, uh, that I'm doing this for him, okay?" "That's hard," Apollo replied shaking his head in anguish. "Okay, you just be careful. See ya." The young Warrior smiled slightly as he nodded his head in Apollo's direction and then grabbed his bag, turned, and headed through the cabin doors into the corridor. ----- Alexander and Boxey were running full speed down a long corridor, effortlessly weaving in and out of the Enterprise personnel who strolled by. They sharply rounded a corner and slammed full force into Ambassador Darrion Marks. The impact of the collision caused them to bounce backwards and land hard on the floor. Alexander looked up at the tall, dark-eyed man and began to apologize profusely. "Uh, sorry sir. Really, we were just..." "In a big hurry, were you?" Marks replied with a small smile as he rubbed his leg. "Um, we were, uh, just playing and..." "I see. Were you going to the Holodeck by any chance?" "NO!! My father said that I couldn't go unless I ask his permission first," Alexander stated. Boxey looked up at the man and said nothing. "Your father is... Lieutenant Worf, is he not?" the Betazoid inquired. "Yes sir," Alexander responded with a gulp. Marks looked at Boxey and said, "And yours is Captain Apollo, I believe." "Yes sir..." Boxey replied nervously. "You won't tell, will you?" The Ambassador laughed and then said, "Of course not. You know... I think you're both in luck. I recently saw both of your fathers and if I'm not mistaken, both mentioned that they were planning on beaming down to Pacifica for a meeting. So... if you want to go, who'll know?" "But..." Alexander began. "Hey, I was your age once. I won't tell. In fact, I was on my way there myself. Wanna see a neat program?" Marks asked provocatively. "A skeptical Alexander replied, "I don't know if we should. We might get into real big trouble." "Don't worry fellows, I'll vouch for you. Come on," the Betazoid beckoned. Alexander looked at the confused Boxey and then back up at Marks and said, "I don't think his father wants him to go. He's too little." "Too little? Too little for what? Besides, all the kids on board go to the Holodeck," the Ambassador insisted. "Well, I don't know..." Alexander answered, slowly beginning to soften. "Just for a little while then. I just wanted to show you what I programmed. In fact, I heard that you're a Holodeck programming genius, Alexander. Maybe you can help me finish my program." "Okay." Alexander relented. "But only for a LITTLE while. Promise?" "You have my word," Darrion Marks replied while placing his hand over his heart as if giving an oath. ----- As Alexander, Boxey, and Darrion Marks approached the Holodeck entrance, the doors promptly opened. The three slowly stepped through the opening and into the middle of a beautiful, almost endless field of wildflowers, small shrubs and trees. Large, white, billowy clouds hung lazily overhead in the blue sky and a soft, warm breeze caressed their faces. Boxey spun around in wonder and said, "Where are we? This almost looks like home!" Marks walked over to the two boys and handed Alexander a ball of string. "What's this?" the Klingon boy asked. The Betazoid man smiled and replied, "It's string. On the other end is this." He then held up a large, very beautiful kite, fashioned in the likeness of an immense hawk. "WOW!!" Alexander exclaimed with glee. "A kite!! I used to have one of those when I was with my grandparents! Look at this Boxey," he said excitedly. "Can we fly it??? Please?" he pleaded. Marks smiled again and said, "Sure. I'll hold the kite and you two run over that way. When the wind's just right, I'll let it go and we'll see what happens." The two boys took off across the field and Marks ran with them, holding the kite in front of him. Alexander periodically looked back and carefully unraveled the string to give the kite more slack. Marks then lifted the kite high over his head. After a minute, he released it. The kite finally encountered a breeze, and it drifted slowly upwards. Then a brief gust sent the bird-kite soaring higher. Alexander felt the kite ascend and he slowed and looked up at it. "WOW! Look at that Boxey! We did it!" he exclaimed as he unraveled more string, allowing the kite to rise even higher in the sky. "Can I hold it? Can I?" Boxey begged. "Sure, here." As the two boys stared in wonder at the magnificent kite, the wind unexpectedly began to pick up and the force of it pulled Boxey forward slightly. "Hey!" the small Human child yelled. "It's pulling me." "Hold on tight, Boxey. We don't want to lose it!" The wind grew stronger and then Boxey shouted, "Alexander!! Help me! I don't want to let it go!" Alexander grabbed the spool and held it tightly. The wind began to gust still more and dark clouds rolled in to cover the sky. Suspiciously, Alexander exclaimed, "Hey! What's going on? Why is it getting dark?" He looked around frantically for the Betazoid Ambassador and was unable to see him anywhere. Now concerned, he looked at Boxey and asked, "Did you see where Mr. Marks went?" "No. I don't wanna do this anymore Alexander. Let's go," Boxey shakily replied. "Yeah. I think you're right," the Klingon boy agreed. "Computer. End program," he ordered. The wind continued to howl and now lightening began to dance across the sky. "Wait a minute. Why didn't it stop?" Alexander asked aloud. More forcefully he repeated, "COMPUTER!! END PROGRAM!" A clap of thunder was the response and it caused the two young boys to jump in surprise. They looked up at the sky again, just as the string they held snapped and fell to the ground. Curiously, the bird-kite remained in place above them, hovering ominously. With alarm, Alexander grabbed Boxey's hand and they ran towards a large tree for cover. They crouched next to it as the wind grew more fierce. Blowing debris from the field now began swirling around them. "What's wrong? Why won't it stop!" the frightened Boxey whimpered. "I don't know," Alexander replied. "Something's REALLY wrong. COMPUTER! EXIT!" he yelled at the storm. The response this time was a long, piercing screech from above. Alexander looked up and gasped in horror as the beak of the bird-kite opened wide. The kite, now a living, breathing hawk, headed straight for them, it's long, sharp talons fully extended in front of it. Alexander turned towards Boxey and pushed him out of the way just as the bird swooped low and past them, futilely clawing at the space they had just vacated. The two ran towards another tree while the hawk circled high above to begin it's attack approach again. Just as they reached the tree, a large bolt of lightening hit it and it burst into a million sparks. Boxey and Alexander were thrown to the ground and they rolled in opposite directions, again evading the hawk as it plummeted and missed. Alexander crawled towards Boxey and held him close as the hawk resumed it's circling in preparation for another run. Suddenly, the left wall of the Holodeck chamber began to flicker and the images began to fade. Boxey buried his head in the Klingon boy's tunic, and began to sob in fear. Alexander watched in fascination as another wall began to flicker and fade to black and yellow. The bird above began to screech loudly and angrily, as the sky finally began to flicker to reveal a ceiling. The hawk quickly charged again in one last attempt, and then abruptly winked out of existence, mere centimeters above Alexander's head. The boys sat crouched together and were shivering violently when Lieutenant Commander Data entered the Holodeck. "Alexander, Boxey, are you alright?" the android asked with concern, as he ran towards them. "My console indicted a malfunction in this chamber and after discovering that a program was in progress here, I attempted to discontinue it." Alexander tried to speak but no words would come out. Data knelt down, picked up both boys, and carried them towards the exit. He then remarked, "I am afraid that the mortality fail-safe was somehow disabled during the running of this program. Thus, I will take you both to sickbay to verify that you have not suffered any extensive injuries." ----- Apollo stood silently looking out the window in his father's quarters. "Apollo, I'm sorry that you weren't able to convince Starbuck to stay with us, but I don't think that there is anything we can do to stop him, once he's made up his mind," Adama remarked. "But Father, why now? Now, more than ever, we NEED people like Starbuck to..." "Do we? The purpose of this Conference was to not only apply for admission to the Federation, but to expose our people to the myriad of possibilities that they would have if they chose to stay here. Apparently Starbuck wasn't convinced..." "But that's just it... somehow, someone, who I believe I know the identity of, 'unconvinced' Starbuck that staying here would be the right thing to do," Apollo replied. "'Unconvinced'? What do you mean? Who is this 'someone' you are talking about?" "Ambassador Marks. I've seen him almost everywhere. On this ship, down on the surface... talking to tens, if not hundreds of people. Remember how he managed to visit EVERY ship in the Fleet during the time he was with us? Father, I may be crazy, but there's something about him that's just not..." "Crusher to Captain Apollo", a voice on the intercom stated. Apollo walked over to a Comm panel, punched a button and answered, "Captain Apollo here." "Captain, could you come to sickbay right away? It's your son." ----- Captain Apollo nearly crashed through the closed doors of sickbay, which barely parted in time to admit him. He shoved past the nurses and technicians towards Doctor Crusher. Crusher looked up at the man who approached and carefully laid her diagnostic scanner on a table. "Where is he?" Apollo demanded. "He's fine Captain. He's right over here," Beverly Crusher replied, pointing over to a nearby bed. Apollo swiftly moved towards the bed and said, "Boxey, what happened?" "Captain, could you come into my office?" Crusher requested. "Not until I see how my son is." "Really, Boxey will be fine. Just a little worn for he wear. Nothing unusual for a boy his age." "I see, and how would you know what little boys..." "I HAVE a son, Captain, who's not that much younger than you are." "Fine, but I think you should understand that I've really had it up to here with..." "Please Captain. Commander Data is in my office and he will fill you in on what happened." Apollo took a deep breath and finally relented to accompany Crusher to her office. Inside, Data stood calmly, awaiting his turn to brief the Colonial Officer. Crusher leaned against the edge of her desk and folded her arms across the front of her body. "Alright Commander. From the beginning. Tell me what's going on?" Apollo insisted. "Apparently the two boys were involved in a Holodeck program that may have caused..." Data began. "What two boys? Who else was with Boxey?" Apollo interrupted. "Lieutenant Worf's son, Alexander." Furious, Apollo exclaimed, "What? I told Boxey not to..." "According to both boys, they were accompanied by Ambassador Marks." "What?" "When I questioned the boys, they informed me that Ambassador Marks had asked them to help him with his program..." "Boxey is not even seven yahrens old and he doesn't know anything about any 'Holodeck'. I don't understand..." "Captain please..." Crusher pleaded. "The program involved a seemingly innocuous outdoor scene of an open field. The Ambassador offered to assist the boys with a kite. As soon as the kite was aloft, the boys say that the wind began to gust and a storm ensued. They also claim that the kite transformed into a real hawk and it began to attack them. At approximately that point, I discovered the malfunction and proceeded to shut down the program. I found the two boys huddled together in the center of the Holodeck and brought them here." "Where is Marks now?" "That's the strange part Captain," Crusher injected. "According to the Conference schedule, he was supposedly in a session during the entire time of the incident." "What the hell is going on here?" Apollo remarked. "I do not know Captain, but we will endeavor to find out." --o-- "YOU! ANDORIAN! WHAT do you know about your boss's death?" Worf demanded to the bartender at the 'Trade Winds'. "My NAME is Altan and I know nothing," the bartender replied evenly. "Have you seen any strange people around here?" Riker asked, as he turned to watch two Yridian traders walk by. "Anyone suspicious?" "People come and people go," was the reply. "Anyone that Lani Mikoa may have... 'owed'?" Worf asked. "Not that I am aware. I have learned to mind my own business," Altan calmly said. "Really... then I'm sure you're aware that there hasn't been any act of violence successfully carried out on this planet in years," Riker noted. "My people are a violent race, Commander. Such things do not phase me. But I do recognize 'evil' when I encounter it." "'Evil'?" Worf exclaimed. The Andorian smiled slowly and his eyes shifted quickly from Officer to Officer. "Perhaps I can be persuaded with some... incentive..." "You KNOW that Star Fleet Officers don't carry any currency. But perhaps, we can request that the local Health department re- schedule their inspections..." "They will find NOTHING. The Mistress was obsessive about the cleanliness of her establishment. No bother, I will relay to you my observations. There is an evil presence here, one which I haven't encountered in many, many of your years. Beware of it Human and Klingon." And with that, the Andorian turned and walked away. ----- "This is like Paradise. The ocean, the gardens... It's like a wonderful fantasy come true. I wish that we could stay here forever," Lieutenant Sheba dreamily remarked, as she leaned against the stone railing that circled the Grand Courtyard, overlooking the ocean. "Why not? That IS an option," Darrion Marks whispered, as he slowly moved behind her, placed his hands on the back of her neck, and began to massage it. Sheba sighed and then responded, "I don't think so. Actually, I promised to go with Apollo and the others to Earth." "You like him, don't you?" "Who?" "Come on Sheba. You forget what I am, what I can do," the Betazoid noted. "Well... yes, I will admit that I'm attracted to Apollo, but..." "But?" "Well, I don't think that I can ever replace his wife, at least in HIS eyes, anyway." "And who might she be?" "Serena. Her name was Serena." "So where is she now?" "She was killed. It was so sad. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for Apollo. That happened before I met him, just prior to when my father's ship briefly joined up with the Galactica," Sheba explained. "Your father? Tell me about him," Marks asked, already knowing the story. "What is there to tell? He was the greatest and most famous of all the Colonial Commanders. An outstanding Warrior. I've always envied him." "Where is he now?" "Well, we really don't know. We lost track of him during a battle. We don't know his whereabouts." "I see. Perhaps, you should seek him out." "What? How? Besides, wherever he is, it's a long, long way from here." "I think that I can help you." "But how? I thought that..." "Do you want to find your father? See him again?" "Well yes, but..." "Then come with me. I'll take you to him," the Ambassador replied, almost hypnotically. "What.... what are you talking about?" Sheba responded, now a little disoriented. Suddenly, Marks grabbed her and began to kiss her passionately. She tried to resist but then relaxed, tentatively wrapping her arms around his neck. Their lips parted and Marks whispered, "Come with me. There are others who will be going." Sheba stared at him with confusion, as her emotions began to run wild. His black eyes burned in her soul and she sat motionless, gazing into infinity. "Will you come with me?" he asked again. "You, you... What IS it?? What is it about you that is so familiar?" "Perhaps it's my love for adventure. The years I served on a freighter exploring the galaxy," he suggested. "I guess... I guess that MUST be it," she replied, looking down at the floor with confusion. Marks began to stroke her hair. He then lifted her chin to guide her eyes towards his as he again whispered, "Will you come with me? Will you follow me?" Weakly, Sheba responded, "Yes." ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!noc.near.net!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTIONS (part 06/10) ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:17:28 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 290 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com C H A P T E R VI Rhythmically, predictably, the sea ran to greet the shore and playfully retreated back to the safety of its depths. Again and again, it's fingers reached forward to touch the fine, blue-white sand and then pulled back again. Apollo sat stiffly on a large piece of driftwood, looking out at the rushing and retreating water. Maddening images were constantly besieging him, as he tried to rest his mind. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Deanna Troi said sweetly, from directly behind the seated man. She then made her way around a tangle of vines to reach Apollo. "I guess so. You know, it's been so long since I've been to an ocean. When I was little, my mother used to take us all the time. I used to like to run right up to the edge of the water and then when a wave came in, I would run back as fast as I could, before the water got a chance to touch me." "You seem troubled," Troi suddenly remarked. Apollo glanced up at the Counselor and remarked, "Wouldn't you be? After all that's happened? After what MAY happen? I mean, someone tried to kill my son. This has GOT to stop!" "I understand, but if you think about it, there's always going to be confusion and turmoil when change occurs. It's part of the process." "Yes but this has gone a bit too far. Cold-blooded killing? We've had enough death and destruction at the hands of the Cylons already," Apollo noted. "But wasn't this type of thing building up for a while? I mean, from what I could see, there was alot of discontent among your people with respect to what would happen to them." "Sure there's turmoil. Sure there's alot of discontent. But now you're suggesting that your people had nothing to do with this." "I'm not suggesting that at all. I'm just trying to show you some reasons why you shouldn't dwell on it. It's as simple as that. Besides, what would the Federation gain from being involved in something like that anyway?" Troi asked defensively. "You know, I've begun to notice something about you people. You always want to look at or blame someone else when something like this happens." "What do you mean?" "Exactly what I said," Apollo replied, turning away from her and trying hard to suppress his anger and frustration. "We have now had four people killed by some sick individual or individuals, two children who were 'allegedly' attacked by some out-of-control computer, and all YOU do is go around and psychoanalyze why we shouldn't worry about it." Counselor Troi, now somewhat insulted, said, "I sensed that you were upset and frustrated and I came over here to try to help. I resent the fact that you believe I'm doing this for some selfish, personal reason." "Are you?" "As ship's Counselor, THAT'S my job, and I'm sorry that you feel the way you do about me and my crewmates. If you want to know, we are ALL concerned about what happened and have spent the past few days and nights trying to come up with an explanation. Now if that's not good enough for you Captain, then that's too bad!" She immediately turned around and left him to sit alone again, her eyes burning with fury. ----- After returning to her small, overnight beach house to retrieve her bathing suit and towel, Deanna Troi stood silently on the beach, finally relaxed after her ordeal with Captain Apollo. She closed her eyes, as the sea breeze gently caressed her face and set her long hair in motion. She looked up at the sky and smiled as the full moon's soft glow softly illuminated the tree tops and water surface. She carefully unfastened her tunic and let it drop to the sand. Slowly, she walked towards the water and tentatively extended one toe to gauge the temperature of the surf. Judging it suitable, she ran towards the waves and then expertly dove in. She began her water exercises with a strong free style swim towards the center of the lagoon and then she stopped to float peacefully on her back, staring up at the twinkling stars. She felt her body arch and flatten in tandem with the current, as it gathered strength to finally reach the shore, only to retreat and begin again. Wave after wave passed beneath her body, stronger and stronger until she found herself bobbing higher then she felt comfortable with. She rolled into an upright position, gently kicking her legs to keep her balance and was now somewhat concerned with the undertow she felt. She looked over at the shore and then began to swim towards it. After awhile, she looked up again and noted that she had not made as much progress as she expected. She began to swim harder, periodically looking up to check her position. Now anxious, she quickly looked around just in time to brace herself for a large wave that had formed out of nowhere and came crashing down upon her, sending her deep underwater. She struggled with all her might to reach the dark surface and once there, barely had time to gasp before another wave sent her under again. She began to panic and she struggled to summon her emergency water safety training, in an effort to conserve her energy and air. She again managed to break the surface, whereby she gasped for air, screamed, and then was pulled under yet another time. Her chest and limbs began to ache as she once more fought to reach the surface, but to no avail. With one final kick, she tried to break free of the powerful current, cried out in her mind to her mother and her Imzadi, William Riker, and then gave up, as her lungs drank it's fill of the sea, and the world went dark. ----- "DEANNA!!!!" Lwaxana Troi suddenly screamed, accidently sending her dinner plate flying off the table. "Lwaxana! What is it? What's wrong?!" the startled Commander of the Galactica asked. "OH GOD! DEANNA! Please, Adama... please HELP HER!" she moaned, crumbling to the floor in tears. Adama ran to the Comm panel in his quarters and hit the button that opened a channel. "Adama to Captain Picard. Please acknowledge. We have an emergency." ----- The first thing Deanna Troi sensed was her violent coughing, as she struggled to take air into her water-filled lungs. Then she felt a pulsating pressure around her waist and chest, that started low and then pushed upwards. Finally, she found that her normal breathing pattern had begun to return, periodically interrupted with more coughing, as her body attempted to expel the remaining liquid within her. She felt someone gently lay her on her side and then felt that someone begin to rub her back. Gentle fingers unclasped the fine gold chain with the Bajoran amulet and slid it off her neck. She shuddered with exhaustion, drifting in and out of consciousness and she could barely hear the whisper in her ear. "You'll be fine. Just lay there and let me take care of you." Deanna suddenly shivered once more and then she felt warmth all over her body. She began to feel as if someone were probing her mind. She tried to fight it, but her mind was weakened and she was barely conscious. The sensations proved to be too strong, too wonderful, too delicious to resist. "Deanna, come with me," the voice whispered in her mind. "I can't," she replied to his mind. "Deanna, you WANT to come with me," the voice insisted. "Come where? I..." "Help me then. Will you help me?" the voice pleaded inside her head. Deanna gave in and responded telepathically, "Yes." ----- Will Riker ran full speed across the fine sand towards a row of small beach houses, clustered around the lagoon. He found Deanna Troi's bungalow and burst through the door yelling, "Deanna! Where are..." He abruptly stopped cold when he saw Darrion Marks sitting on the bed beside the Counselor. "Commander?" Marks innocently said. "Is there a problem?" Riker now confused, replied, "Deanna's mother claims that she sensed that her daughter was in danger. I came down immediately to investigate." Troi piped up and responded, "I'm alright Will. I had a, well... a swimming accident. I'll be fine." A skeptical Riker, while angrily staring at the Betazoid Ambassador, entreated, "Are you SURE Deanna? I can get Doctor Crusher here to check you..." "NO! No, that's alright, Will. Really... I just need to get myself together." Marks stood up and walked towards Riker. "She's perfectly fine, Commander," he calmly stated. "Is there anything else?" Furious, but in control, Riker mumbled, "No." He solemnly looked towards Deanna, nodded at Marks, and then left the room. ----- Lwaxana Troi sat on a sofa in her quarters and began to lament her state of affairs. "Oh Adama! I thought that when I was through with the diapers, I was free at last. And then came the toddling, and then the friend-making, and then school, and dating... it just never ends." Adama chuckled and continued with, "And THEN comes the weddings, and then the grandchildren, and on and on. Yes Lwaxana, you are right. It NEVER ends." Lwaxana sighed and said, "This has been such an awful day. First I was forced to break up a fist fight between two delegates in my session. Then I was forced to sit in on a session with that AWFUL Ambassador from Zackdorn and his arrogant AND obnoxious assistant. THEN, I ruined a perfectly romantic dinner worrying about..." "Lwaxana," Adama interrupted, "don't be so hard on yourself." "Well at least YOU didn't have to sit in front of that RUDE Tellarite, who was snoring through your whole presentation." "Lwaxana..." "And MY speech was JUST AWFUL..." "I think that you did rather well..." "I'm sorry Adama, It's been a long day. Maybe I need to turn in for the night," Mrs. Troi remarked. "Agreed. Shall we meet again for breakfast tomorrow morning?" Lwaxana slowly looked up at his dark brown eyes and smiled. "That would be nice," she replied. Adama cleared his throat and then said, "Very good. Then I shall see you tomorrow morning?" "Yes," was the weak reply. "Good night Lwaxana." Adama turned to leave, halted, and then slowly walked back to the Betazoid. He bent down slightly and kissed her on the cheek. Lwaxana began to blush as she said, "Good night Adama and sweet dreams." He smiled, nodded, and then exited the cabin. ----- Lwaxana Troi tossed and turned restlessly in her bed as her sub-conscious rapidly moved from vision to horrifying vision. She found herself standing on the edge of a barren cliff, overlooking a steep canyon. The wind buffeted her body as she struggled to keep her footing and balance. She found herself paralyzed and frustrated that she could not make her legs move away from there, away to ANYWHERE. A fierce gust howled past her and the wind-swept rain threatened to toss her over the cliff. Suddenly, she began to hear someone laughing. The laughter started softly, as if from some distance away, and then it increased in intensity. It echoed around her, rising and falling, as lightening now danced across the sky. "Stop!" Lwaxana cried out in her mind. The hysterical laughter continued, now all around her, pounding endlessly in her head, and she attempted to cover her ears. "STOP!!" she yelled again at no one, and no one paid her any mind as the squeals continued. Lwaxana abruptly sat upright in her bed, with beads of sweat on her forehead. She was breathing heavily and shaking from her nightmare, trying desperately to fathom the hidden meaning behind it. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, finally laying back down and wrapping the covers around her, as she began to feel slightly chilled. She slowly drifted off to sleep again and found herself in an ancient, drafty stone castle. She looked around at the myriad of lighted candles that dotted the old courtyard and twinkled from massive chandeliers, hung from the soot-covered stone ceiling. A man entered the large room through an old, creaky door and walked past her as if she were invisible. The man, dressed in a heavy linen tunic and cloak, wore a small crown of brass on his head. His full, dark beard and mustache were untrimmed, contributing to his overall unkempt appearance. The man walked past her again, this time carrying a wooden box, with strange carved symbols on it and inlays of gold and silver. He stopped in the center of the courtyard, just as others began to enter the room. Men and women from a number of different worlds crowded around the center of the courtyard near the man, some dressed impeccably in silks and jewels, while others were barely clothed in sackcloth or whatever rags they could find. Lwaxana walked towards the people as they began to form a circle around a strange ceramic pattern on the floor. The bearded man stepped within the inlaid circle, opened the box and took out a jar of red powder. As he opened the jar, the people began to chant in some unintelligible tongue, some dropping to their knees in deference. The man poured the contents on the floor and the chanting grew louder. Lwaxana pushed through the crowds, demanding from those around her, the purpose of what was happening. The people ignored her and reverently watched as the man then pulled out another jar from his box. He held it up for all to see and the crowds cheered. A breeze suddenly filtered into the room, causing the candles all around to flicker. The man opened the jar and poured it's contents on the floor. Suddenly a large gust of wind simultaneously blew out all the candles and fueled the flames that erupted inside the circle of onlookers. The bearded man then burst out in hysterical laughter as the flames darted around him. The crowd joined in and soon the entire chamber echoed in maddening glee. Lwaxana again covered her ears and shouted for it to stop. As she tried to run away, she found herself blocked, as the people began to encircle her, pointing and shouting and laughing. Lwaxana dropped to her knees and covered her head as they continued to taunt her and ridicule her. "NO!" she yelled as she again abruptly sat up in the bed, her sheets now splayed on the floor from her tossing and turning. She immediately stumbled out of the bed and reached for her Comm panel to summon her servant. ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!noc.near.net!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTIONS (part 07/10) ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:18:17 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 387 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com C H A P T E R VII Captain's Log. Supplemental "We are now in the fourth day of the Conference and I have observed a slight change in the behavior of my crew. Nothing obvious, not enough to warrant a more indepth examination just yet, but a shift in personality, nonetheless. I perceive a modicum of evasiveness, a barely perceptible, 'dark tone' that has taken root on board this ship. I am still disturbed by nightmarish dreams and have recently discovered that numerous members of my crew are similarly plagued by these haunting images. Of course, all of this may be just my imagination, as we are all suffering the stress of the events that have occurred over the past few days, but when you serve with a crew, so closely, so intimately, you KNOW them, FEEL them. I KNOW that right now, SOMETHING doesn't feel right." --o-- "Tigh, what's your status?" Adama asked the man on his viewscreen. "Bad Adama. Ever since word spread throughout the Fleet about what happened to the Council President, things have gotten almost completely out of control," the Colonel remarked. "Have you declared Martial Law?" Adama asked. "Struck down," Tigh angrily spat. "By order of the Council. Adama, we have hundreds, including some of our Warriors, who have left the Fleet aboard fifteen of our fastest ships and are headed towards some place the Federation calls, 'Ipus Minor'." "I see, and what about those assigned to those ships? They didn't just throw people off..." "With respect to the displacement of the people from those ships, well... we're stretching all our resources just to accommodate them AND maintain some order." "What about those who stayed?" "Fortunately, most of our people appear willing to go along with the agreements signed between the Federation and the Colonies. We just have to keep those who are dissatisfied from stirring up trouble and instigating more chaos by spreading unsubstantiated rumors." "Very well. Star Fleet has informed us that they will be sending what they call 'Colonization ships' to you to begin the transfer of our people to the agreed upon locations. I will be joining you shortly thereafter. And Tigh, there are some things that I will need to speak with you about when I arrive. Things that don't bode well for our future." "I understand, Adama. I've heard the rumors." "Rumors that MAY be true." "Adama, what more can happen to...?" "Tigh, despite all that has happened since the beginning and despite all that will come to pass, I put my faith in the writings of the ancestors. We will prevail in the end. You or I may not live to see it, but we WILL prevail. I believe it in my very soul." "I hope you're right Adama." "I KNOW I'm right." --o-- "Hey Data, look at this." Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge and Lieutenant Commander Data were standing hunched over the main console in Engineering. "Interesting," Data replied as he looked at the screen of information pointed out by Geordi. "I'll say. If I'm reading this correctly, it looks like according to the logs, at the precise moment that the 'storm' began in the Holodeck program, the ship's internal sensors registered an energy surge, not only where YOU saw it, in the imaging and matter conversion subsystems of the Holodeck, but actually in the chamber itself, as if someone activated some kind of huge power generator in there. That must have been some powerful program to malfunction like that," La Forge remarked. "Geordi, I do not believe that the program itself caused the energy surge. According to the actual program logs, the program ran normally. There were no indications of any programming anomalies or shifts in the expected settings. However, it appears that the Ops station was reacting to the sudden energy surge and interpreted THAT as a malfunction. In fact, the data that we have so far, particularly that found in the ship's internal functions logs, seems to confirm that the energy surge occurred INDEPENDENTLY from the program OR the chamber," Data noted. "Data... what are you suggesting?" "I hypothesize that the energy surge may have been caused either from some source OUTSIDE the ship or possibly by some entity on board the ship," Data replied. "Entity...? Geordi began. "Excuse me gentlemen. You're just the people I wanted to see," Darrion Marks interrupted. "Uh, Ambassador... we were just reviewing your Holodeck program and..." Geordi began to explain. "You didn't find anything, did you?" the Betazoid replied, almost hypnotically. Geordi tried to speak, but couldn't put the words together, as he suddenly felt slightly disoriented. "Actually," Data chimed in, "We..." Data momentarily froze, blinked and then continued in a stilted fashion, indicating an internal malfunction of his programming, "Could... not... lo-cate... a... cause... for... the... malfunction." "Commander La Forge?" Marks inquired. "We... couldn't... confirm anything," the Engineer replied with confusion, as those were definitely NOT the words he wanted to say. "Hmmmm, I see. Well keep working on it. I'm sure something will turn up," the Ambassador responded. "Yes sir! Uh, I mean, yes Ambassador. We'll keep looking," Geordi fumbled, trying to clear his mind of the disorientation, and now trying to deal with the massive distortions that he could see and feel through his VISOR. "Geordi, are you alright?" the Second Officer asked with concern. "I don't know Data. I think something's wrong with my VISOR. I... I better go to sickbay and see Doctor Crusher so she can check it out." "Good idea Commander La Forge. I'll walk you there, if you'd like," Marks offered. "No, no that's okay. I'll... I'll get there." "Very good," Marks replied, as he walked away from the two Enterprise Officers. "I will continue here Geordi. Since neither the logs nor the internal sensors registered anything unusual, then perhaps the Ops console was malfunctioning," Data remarked matter-of-factly. "Even an energy surge or anomaly might have indicated something, but unfortunately none of these were detected." "Yeah and it also looks like those two boys pulled a fast one on us, lying like that and telling us that Ambassador Marks was in there with them," Geordi added angrily. --o-- Adama's Journal: "It has been nearly a secton since we left the Fleet to participate in the Federation membership Conference and I have found an increase in the frequency of strange and unexplainable occurrences that have marred what should have been a joyous event. My crew is exhibiting unusual behavior and I fear that some evil presence has been let loose both aboard this ship AND on the planet's surface. I ask the Lords to watch over us during this stressful time." ----- "Lwaxana, I came here to ask you to confirm for me, a feeling that I've had since I came on board this vessel," Commander Adama stated. "It's about Darrion Marks, isn't it?" Mrs. Troi replied. "Yes." "I don't know what to tell you, Adama. I've tried to penetrate his mind but he closes it off to me. It's as if he weren't there at all. I don't know what else to tell you." "Has he ever approached you or tried to become friendly with you as I have observed that he has done with my crew?" "No. Interestingly enough, I've had very little contact with him. Perhaps due to the fact that our respective families have had a, well, a very 'cool' relationship with each other in the past." "I see. Lwaxana, I had a very disturbing dream last night. I haven't told anyone else about it, not even my children. I remember..." He paused and thought for a bit, then continued, "I remember crowds... all around me... laughing and pointing at me, taunting me. The worst part was the laughter, the insane laughter. I recall that one of the faces in the crowd was... it HAD to be, Darrion Marks." "Adama, I had a similar dream, with people laughing, but I don't remember Darrion being in it. I've recently noticed your intense concern about this man, but I just can't quite figure out why. It's as if you're leaving me dangling..." "I have been trained to exercise thought-blocking as well, Lwaxana. There are thoughts I have that I don't wish you to know, if only to not have you involved in what I suspect may be..." "Involved? Involved in what? You suspect that Darrion Marks has something to do with what's going on?" "I don't know WHAT to believe Lwaxana. I only know that I don't want you to get hurt." "Hurt? Hurt by whom? Adama, I am a grown woman. I am quite capable of ..." "Please Lwaxana, do not be offended by what I mean. If you insist, I believe that Ambassador..." Suddenly, the door chime sounded. Lwaxana responded with, "Come in?" Ambassador Marks tentatively stepped inside the cabin. "Ah, Ambassador Troi, I, uh, didn't expect that you had company, perhaps I will come back later?" "Yes Darrion, why don't you do that," Lwaxana replied. Marks smiled, nodded and then left. "Now, you should sense my apprehension Lwaxana. I have noted that whenever I have mentioned his name, he always appears." "Now THAT sounds a little paranoid, don't you think?" "It's true and you don't find it the least bit unusual that we should experience similar dreams?" Adama insisted. "I am afraid that I must speak with the Captain about what has occurred over the past secton. It must end here." "Adama, are you suggesting...? You REALLY wish to break off the talks?" Adama stood and headed for the door. "Yes. Until such time that the Federation feels that we are worth negotiating with." "But I think that you're jumping to conclusions. You can't possibly believe that the Federation condones..." "As I said before, I don't know WHAT to believe Lwaxana. All I know is that I have recently talked to one of my Officers back on the Galactica and apparently a significant percentage of our people have left the fleet with members of YOUR Federation and Star Fleet. For some reason, they want to attempt to carry out an assault on the Cylons. This talk of returning to attack our enemies has caused alot of confusion among my people. It MUST end here and now. This Darrion Marks has spent an inordinate amount of time socializing with our Colonists. I believe that somehow, HE is the cause of all our problems, both here and back at the Fleet." "WHAT?" "Lwaxana, please. I don't blame you for what has happened but I must look out for the safety of those under my care and responsibility. I will try to speak with you again later this evening, if you will have me." "Of course Adama. You know you are always welcome." "I hope that I am, Lwaxana. I hope that I am." ----- "Sir, I have analyzed all the data that we have from all four deaths and I have found only two things in common," the android Second Officer remarked. "And those are?" Picard asked. "First, all four had some connection to the Conference, including Mr. Mot's assistant, who we recently discovered, had planned to apply for a job as a personal barber to the Colonial Council President. He also planned to sign on as a temporary worker at a concession stand located in the 'Trade Winds Resort', during the week of the Conference." "Hmmm, and what else?" "Secondly, all four had some connection to Ambassador Marks." "Marks?" "That is correct." Picard stood and began to pace. "Marks? Where on Earth would Jonathan Baird have met Darrion Marks?" "I checked the files and apparently, Admiral Baird was one of the Admirals who received a debriefing from Marks regarding the Cardassian cease-fire agreement." "But I thought that Admiral Nechayev...?" "Admiral Nechayev was also involved in the debriefing, although specifically that given by Captain Jellico. Admiral Baird acted as a liaison between the Federation and Star Fleet during that time, just prior to his detail as Acting Commandant of Star Fleet Academy. Thus he was often called to sit in on discussions with the Diplomatic Corps." "And the Council President?" "Apparently, early on, the Council President became very friendly with the Ambassador, I believe from the time they first met aboard the Enterprise, just after our battle with the Cylons." Stupefied, Picard continued, "And Lani...?" "From the interviews that Lieutenant Worf and I have conducted on the planet surface, including those I had with Miss Mikoa's assistant, Kelly Takahito, Darrion Marks was a frequent visitor to the resort and was apparently a good friend of the proprietor. Finally, Mr. Mot's assistant had apparently known the Ambassador from some time ago, before he came on board the Enterprise," Data concluded. "What about the computer malfunction of the fire suppression system?" "We still haven't uncovered any evidence of a 'malfunction' Captain. At this point, Geordi and I are speculating that perhaps a force field of some kind, undetectable by our sensors, may have been in place, actually isolating the fire and smoke from the detection systems." Picard began to pace around the room in frustration. "None of what you describe is enough to draw any conclusions. Ever since we arrived at Pacifica and began to experience these violent and unexplainable acts, we have encountered one dead end after another, as if we were being purposely misled to believe that the incidents were random," he remarked. "Now you propose that all roads lead to this Betazoid Ambassador, who, from the brief instances that I have observed him, appears to have made it a point to portray himself as anything BUT a cold-blooded, manipulating killer. Data, I need something more substantial. Can you place the Ambassador at any of..." Suddenly the door chime sounded and Picard responded, "Come." Ambassador Marks stepped inside and commented, "Oh, excuse me Captain, I'm sorry to have disturbed you. I didn't realize that you were having a meeting. Picard then replied, "Ambassador what can I do for you?" "It really wasn't that important. Just some artifacts I managed to buy on Pacifica that I thought you might be interested in. Another time perhaps?" "Yes. Another time." "Very good," Marks replied. He glanced over at Data and acknowledged his presence with, "Commander," before turning and walking out the door. Slightly miffed, Picard turned to look at his Second Officer, "Data, you were saying..." "Actually Captain, you inquired as to whether the Ambassador could be placed at the scene of the incidents. Each time, the possibility did exist where he COULD have been there, however, the evidence is circumstantial... except for one other thing..." "What's that?" "There was an incident in the Holodeck involving Captain Apollo's son Boxey and Worf's son Alexander. According to the two boys, Ambassador Marks accompanied them into the Holodeck to run one of his programs and then he left them, trapped within the malfunctioning Holodeck program." "Malfunctioning?" "Yes. I discovered that somehow, the security lockouts had been overridden and the mortality fail-safe had been discontinued. I was able however, to halt the program in time. Fortunately, the boys were not hurt." "When did all this happen?" Picard asked, now very concerned. "Just yesterday afternoon, sir. We questioned Marks after we found him, and..." Data froze again. "Data, are you alright?" Picard inquired suspiciously. "Run a self-diagnostic. I think that..." Data remained silent for a brief moment, blinked and then stated, "Self-diagnostic complete. Every thing checks out. Perhaps it was a momentary glitch..." "Continue then," Picard ordered, suspicion now penetrating his psyche. "We could NOT verify anything," Data replied. "In fact, we have eyewitnesses who claim he was with THEM on the planet, during the time of the incident." "What? What in the devil is going on...?" "Commander Adama to Captain "Picard." "Picard here. What is it Commander." "Captain, we must talk. This is urgent." Picard sighed. "Very well Commander. We can meet here, in my Ready..." "No Captain. I would rather meet with you privately. Not on the Bridge." "Is that necessary Commander? My Ready Room is..." "Yes Captain. It IS necessary. I cannot tell you why at this moment." "You may meet me at my quarters, Commander," Picard then reluctantly replied. "That will be satisfactory." "Picard out. Data, continue to gather your evidence and work with Mr. Worf to see if we can obtain statements from the witnesses on Pacifica and on the Enterprise." "Aye, sir." --o-- "Athena, what's gotten into you lately? All you've been doing for the past centaur, is talk about Darrion Marks!" Apollo exclaimed to his sister. "But Apollo, he really IS a nice guy! I like him alot! You know, he showed me how to operate the Holodeck, and you wouldn't believe..." "Here we go again. What IS IT about this 'Holodeck'?" Apollo inquired. "It's WONDERFUL Apollo. You can't imagine..." Athena began. "It's nothing but a big deception if you ask me. Athena! Don't you understand??? It's NOT real!" "Don't knock it 'till you try it Apollo," Athena retorted. "Don't worry Athena. You'll NEVER find ME in there. It seems like EVERY ONE of us who's gone in there with that Ambassador, has come out with their sensors scrambled, INCLUDING Boxey! Now HE'S talking about wanting to go back home to Caprica, which I KNOW he can barely remember, AFTER he went through this whole production of making ME promise to take him to Earth!" "Well, YOU can act like a 'goody two-shoes', spoiled brat all you want big brother, but Casseopia and I are going to enjoy ourselves for a change... IN the Holodeck!" And with that, she abruptly left Apollo alone in his quarters. ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!noc.near.net!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTIONS (part 08/10) ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:19:10 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 455 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com C H A P T E R VIII Adama sat stiffly on a sofa in Jean-Luc Picard's cabin, staring at nothing in particular. Picard placed a decanter of tea and two cups on the small coffee table and then he slowly sat in a chair directly across from the Colonial Commander. "Captain Picard," Adama began. "There are things that I need to discuss with you, some you may not want to hear. I have debated over how our people should proceed based on recent events and I have now made my decision. Before I tell you what we plan, I do want to mention a strange occurrence that I have observed over the past few centauris or rather, you call them 'days', for which I have no logical explanation. Some may consider it paranoia but... have you noticed that whenever we happened to discuss Ambassador Marks, he always seemed to mysteriously appear? Wherever we may be? "No Commander, that's not paranoia. I have observed that myself. In fact, we had considered..." Suddenly, the door chime sounded. Startled, Picard and Adama simultaneously looked at each other. The Captain immediately stood and walked over to the door. He pushed the button that released the lock. The door opened to reveal Darrion Marks standing patiently in the corridor, holding a padd in one hand and patting his leg with the other. "Ambassador?" Picard said, feigning surprise. "What can I do for you?" "Oh, uh, Captain. Yes, uh, I have a copy of one of the technical agreements signed today and I was wondering if you were interested..." "Well Ambassador, I was just preparing to retire for the evening. Perhaps you could return tomorrow morning and I will be very happy to review it AND also take a look at your artifacts." "I see. Very well Captain. In the morning then?" "Yes. Good night Ambassador," Picard replied, quickly touching the lock button again, leaving the Betazoid alone in the hallway. Picard looked over at Adama and motioned him towards an alternate exit in the cabin. Adama followed Picard out to another corridor and then into a turbolift. "Deck 6," the Enterprise Captain ordered. Adama raised his eyebrow in an unspoken inquiry and Picard placed his index finger to his lips to indicate silence. The lift door opened and the two men walked swiftly down a hallway and then through the doors of Transporter Room 2. Picard nodded to the Transporter attendant who immediately stepped away. He then hit his Comm badge and stated, "Picard to Riker." "Riker here." "You have the Bridge, Commander. I will be on Pacifica." "Aye sir." Picard then tapped a few commands into the transporter controller, set it for a 5 second delay and then activated the sequence. He motioned Adama to an empty pad, and the two men began to de-materialize. ----- Seated in the Main Observation Lounge, Riker, Data, and Worf continued to discuss their investigations. "How could the Ambassador have been with all of them at the same time? THAT is impossible," Worf grumbled. "You're telling me. Unless he isn't who or what he says he is. Data, theorize... are there any species that we know of who are capable of duplicating themselves exactly?" Riker inquired. "We know of a number of species who are naturally amorphous and who are capable of shape-shifting, however we cannot rule out the possibility of clones." "Clones?" Riker exclaimed, chiding himself for not thinking about that option. "Correct. That hypothesis could be quickly confirmed by our internal sensors. I will perform a sensor sweep of the ship immediately." "I hope that we do find out that he's either one of many clones or perhaps a shape-shifter." "Why?" Worf asked. "Because I'd hate to find out that he's neither, considering how much time I've spent with him," Riker replied. ----- The ship Captains re-materialized in a dimly lit cavern, located nearly two kilometers below the surface of Pacifica. Sections of old scaffolding lay around the cave. "Alright Commander. I should hope that we can work out our differences here. I know that this may be a drastic solution for seeking out some privacy but I'll save the discussion regarding my qualms about Marks for a later time. Before you begin, I do want to say that I have welcomed our excellent working relationship and I regret that the strain that both of us have experienced has soured our ability to come to some mutual agreement. In any respect, I prefer not to disagree publicly, for the good of both our crews." "That is understandable Captain Picard, however, I want you to know that I can no longer agree to sit by passively and allow these events to continue," Adama proclaimed. "Nor can I allow you to take ANY action that would be deemed detrimental to the Federation," Picard replied. "It has become very clear to me that members of your so- called Federation have decided that our presence is neither appreciated nor desired," Adama continued. "And your statement, sir, has neither a basis in fact nor suitable conjecture," Picard retorted. Out of the shadows, a tall, dark-haired man approached. "Excellent. Excellent. I see that the two of you are getting along quite nicely. Excellent," he remarked. "Ambassador Marks!" Picard exclaimed. "What are you doing... How did you...?" "Marks?" A calculated pause. "Oh yes, how silly of me, I forgot..." Suddenly the likeness of the Betazoid Ambassador dissolved away to be replaced by that of a tall and distinguished-looking, older gentleman, one who you might see mingling with the many dignitaries of the Federation. The man was impeccably dressed in a long white tunic and a matching, floor-length white and gold cape. "IBLIS!" Adama cried. "By all the Lords of Kobol, I was right. I knew it! I felt it! I should have..." "Spare us your futile threats and prayers Adama. I promised to return and I never break a promise," the man replied. "Who are you? What are you? What do you want?" Picard angrily asked. "I don't think that you have the intelligence to even fathom who or what I am, Captain Picard." "Captain," Adama injected. "We have dealt with him before. We thought that we were through with him. Apparently we were wrong." "Apparently," Count Iblis responded with a smirk. "He represents the embodiment of pure evil," Adama snapped. "Such harsh words, Adama, yet your words are of no concern to me," the stranger said. "Captain, I have come to extend my dominion amongst the peoples of your Federation and others', and such a fertile ground it is. The people have come to me by the thousands, thanks to Darrion Marks, and they have accepted me willingly." Frustrated, Picard said "You HAVEN'T answered my question. What is it that your want?" "Why, I HAVE what I want Captain. I have sown the seeds of discord amongst your peoples. They will no longer follow you or your pathetic Federation Council, but will serve ME. Together, with Sheba by my side once more, WE will expand our following." "SHEBA?!" cried Adama. Then it was YOU who killed the Council President and the others," Adama roared with anger. "We had an agreement..." "What agreement?! What are you talking about?" Picard demanded, suddenly sickened by the memory of his now-deceased friend. "They sold their very SOULS to him, Captain," Adama explained. "How naive you are Adama. All of them agreed to follow me and..." "All of them paid the price," said Adama with disgust. "What have you done with Ambassador Marks?" Picard demanded. Smiling, the Count replied, "Why the Ambassador and I ALSO had an agreement. We first met some time ago. His persona has been quite valuable to me. His assistance, though flawed at times, was greatly appreciated, particularly with respect to my dealings with those whom you call 'Cardassians'. How do you suppose the Cardassians appear to know so much about your Federation's plans and their every move? Unfortunately, the Ambassador outlived his usefulness when he began to show a 'selective amnesia' regarding the bargain that we negotiated. Sadly, I was forced to take his place." Now somewhat shaken at the implications of Iblis' admission of the deception, Picard asked, "Tell me, are you a member of the Q Continuum?" The stranger began to chuckle and then he replied, "The Q? Is THAT what they call themselves for the benefit of your primitive species? We are ALL the same, however we exist for different purposes. But then again, I wouldn't expect you to understand such an explanation." "Regardless of what YOUR 'purpose' is, I know for a FACT that all of you are bound to uphold certain, universal laws." Iblis began to turn red and he bellowed, "NO ONE RESTRICTS MY ACCESS! NO ONE RESTRICTS MY POWERS!" Calmly, Picard added, "I will tell YOU what I have told other omnipotent beings of you kind. You SEVERELY underestimate the power of the Human spirit and resolve." Iblis quickly discarded his intended response and instead began to smile with confidence. He answered insidiously, "Indeed Captain Picard. We shall see..." He slowly circled the two men and then he began to recite almost hypnotically, "Captain Jean-Luc Picard... Son of Maurice and Yvette Picard... Brother of Robert Picard... Uncle of Rene Picard.... Lover of Neela Darren..." Adama immediately stepped up to Picard, grabbed his shoulders and warned, "He has a forked tongue, Captain. Do not be beguiled by his words." "DO NOT cross me Adama or I will strike you down where you stand!" Iblis threatened. "Captain Picard," he then continued pleasantly, "I will speak with you now. Alone." He gently raised his hand and suddenly the walls of the cave began to dissolve and re-form. They were now in another section of the subterranean caves. Alarmed, Picard demanded, "Where are we? Where is Adama?" "He is safe..." Iblis stated as he paced around the room, head down. He paused before concluding, "For the moment..." He then stopped, quickly looked up at the Captain, and said, "I needed to speak with you alone Captain, without him." "What is it that you want with me? I warn you, I will not go along with your little charade..." "Do not antagonize me Picard. I elect to speak with you out of courtesy and out of the kindness of my..." "KINDNESS???? You BUTCHERED my friend. You have POISONED the minds of MY crew with sweet words that will only result in bitter consequences! You have PROJECTED yourself into our sub-conscious' and into our dreams, only to deceive... " "Captain, what I am about to offer you is power that no mortal possesses. Power to go anywhere you wish, be anyone you wish, do whatever you wish. It is quite a generous offer." "At what price?" Picard angrily retorted. "My soul? My free will?" "Price? I see that you have been reading too much into your ancient writers' fantasies. All I ask is your cooperation." "MY cooperation? For what? To participate in the disintegration of our already tenuous relationships with our enemies?" "YOU! PICARD! WHERE is your open mind? What has HAPPENED to your love of exploration and discovery? Your fascination with the unknown? Your appreciation of other cultures? Your exposure to Adama and his ilk has dulled your senses. I offer you the chance to..." "By divine, universal law, I am guaranteed the RIGHT to choose and I choose not to join you." "Perhaps another can convince you to listen with reason..." Iblis announced flatly. He suddenly disappeared, leaving Picard utterly alone in the darkened cave. "Jean-Luc?" A voice, soft and familiar. A woman's voice. "Jean-Luc?" the voice whispered again, this time from a direction behind him. Picard slowly turned around and listened. "Ici, Jean-Luc. S'il vous plait. Va ici. J'ai besoin d'assistance. Viens vite!" "Mammon? Tu va bien? Ou est-tu?" "Jean-Luc," the pleading voice continued. "Please, over here." Picard stumbled over some rocks as he crept through a small entrance to an adjoining chamber. There, perched on a large boulder, was his mother. "Mammon, you aren't supposed to be here. Why are you here? What is happening?" "Oh, Jean-Luc. Don't you know? Many things have happened since I spoke with you last. You must be very careful," the elderly woman cautioned. "But Mammon, things have not been going well. My friend..." "Jonathan? He wouldn't listen. He tried to break the bargain. You can NEVER break the bargain." The now disoriented Captain of the Enterprise said, "What? What bargain? What are you talking about? Mammon please, I need your help. I need your strength..." All of a sudden, the old woman disappeared and was replaced by a younger one. "Neela! What are you...? How did you...?" "Jean-Luc. It's alright. I'm okay. I wanted to be with you again. Don't you see? HE made it possible," Commander Darren stated with glee. "Who? Who are you talking ab..." "You know who. He can give you anything you want! Anytime you want! He can..." "NO! I will not listen. You are NOT real!" Picard exclaimed, turning away from his former love. "But I AM real," Neela insisted. "Look at me Jean-Luc. Touch me." "NO!" She walked over to him and grabbed his shoulders, turning him around to face her. LOOK at me!" "NO! End this madness. Leave me alone!" Picard broke free from her grip and scrambled towards a narrow entrance to yet another cave. A sole figure stood silently in the center of the chamber. "I have tried to make this as pleasant as I could Picard, yet you have resisted my charitable offer," Iblis admitted. "You will never break my spirit, Iblis," Picard defiantly proclaimed. The tall man paused for a moment and tilted his head slightly to the left. He then looked over at Picard, focussing his burning eyes directly at the Captain. "YOU believe that you know who I am. I will SHOW you who I am..." With that, he disappeared again. "Uncle!! Uncle! Over here!" This time a child's voice. Picard turned around to see his nephew Rene, climbing over a few rocks to reach the center of the room. "I will no longer fall for any of these parlor tricks..." Picard tried to convince himself. The boy suddenly slipped and fell hard on the damp floor. "Rene!" Picard instinctively cried out. He then hesitated, once again feeling disoriented and confused. "I WILL NOT..." he said in his mind, trying to fight off the desire to run over and help the boy. "Uncle! What's happened? Why am I here? I was out in the fields with Father and then all of a sudden a man appeared and then he waved his hand and now I'm here! I'm scared." Picard stared at the boy. "Is he real or not?" he debated. He briefly closed his eyes and opened them. Rene now standing, tried to wipe the mud off his clothes. He then began to shiver in the cold, damp air. Unexpectedly, debris began to fall from the ceiling of the cavern. Then the ground began to shake violently. "UNCLE!!!" Rene shouted in fear, frantically trying to cover his head with his arms. "Over here! This way!" Picard replied to the boy, as he grabbed him and tried to shield him from the large chunks of stone that crumbled around them. The cavern floor began to split open beneath their feet. Flames roared up through the crack as if the planet's innards were celebrating their new-found freedom. Rene suddenly fell through a new crack in the floor and Picard dropped to the ground, grabbing the boy's arm to keep him from falling into the fiery abyss. "RENE! HANG ON!" the Captain shouted, as the ground began to shake even more violently. A large rock fell from an overhang onto Picard's leg and he gasped as the intense pain shot through his body. He struggled to hang on to the boy as he felt himself slowly sliding towards the edge of the fissure. "Rene! Grab onto my other arm! Hurry!" "I can't reach it!" Suddenly the crack opened wider, sending Picard over the edge. He clung on to an outcropping and groaned in more pain, as he began to feel his shoulder dislocate from the weight of his nephew. He frantically tried to establish a foothold on the loose, rock sides and upon finding one with his good leg, he heaved himself up and over on solid ground, as the flames began to flare up around his arm. "RENE! Grab hold! Come on!" "I CAN'T! I'm going to die!" "TRY HARDER! YOU can do it!" "Come lower! I can't reach it!" "Hurry!" "Lower! Lower!" the boy pleaded. "Give ME your hand! Give HIM your heart! HE can help us! Please! Do it Uncle!" Dizzy with pain, Picard shouted, "Whh.. WHAT???" "Uncle! Let HIM help us! It's the only way..." Jean-Luc Picard, with tears of agony running down his cheeks, suddenly let go of the boy. "NO! UNCLE! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo...." the boy screamed as he fell into the open cavity and was consumed by the flames. Picard rolled away from the opening and curled into a fetal position as the pain continued to shoot through his body. "NO!" he stammered, as he tried in vain to crawl away from the blistering flames that periodically surged through he crack. "NO!" he yelled again more forcefully, and his voice then echoed in the now silent cave. Adama ran over to the broken figure and tried to prop him up against the wall. "Captain! Are you alright?" he asked. "NO!" Picard cried out again, oblivious to the man who spoke. He tried to crawl away and continued to frantically shield his head from the on-slaught in his mind. "PICARD! IT'S ME! ADAMA!" the Commander of the Galactica shouted, while vigorously shaking the Captain. "It's alright! I THINK he's gone," Adama then said reluctantly, as his eyes quickly scanned the area. Picard opened his eyes and looked at Adama's face with disbelief. He then began to shiver from exhaustion and shock. Count Iblis emerged from the shadows, intently watching the two men. Adama suddenly turned around, stood up when he spotted the man, and ran right for him. Iblis raised his hand once and a blinding bolt of electricity slammed Adama back against the cave wall. He painfully slid down to the floor. Iblis began to back away slowly and said with confidence, "Rest assured Captain Picard, we SHALL meet again." Then as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone. "Riker to Picard." "Picard here." "Captain, sensors have picked up... stand bye... They're gone!" Riker exclaimed. "What was that Commander?" Picard asked stiffly. "Sir, we picked up a large number of unidentified 'energy forms', like vessels, moving past us at upwards of warp 10 or greater. They're gone now, sir. We didn't get much data about them from our scans." "Acknowledged Number One. Put the ship on Yellow Alert. I will join you shortly. Picard out." "The 'Lights'," Adama noted. "'Lights'?" "Yes, the beings we ran into before. Kin to Count Iblis, but they watch him... very closely... They must have known what he was doing was wrong and forced him to leave," Adama explained. The two ship Commanders, sat silently on the cavern floor, looking at each other with despair. After a while, the fatigued Adama spoke again. "Captain, I must apologize profusely." "No apology is necessary, Commander," Picard managed, as he rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "We will need to muster all of our resolve to try and woo our peoples back. I fear that the circumstances between your people and the Federation have taken a turn for the worse. If what he says is true..." "Believe that it is, Captain. As you have now witnessed, his evil is unrelenting. Our experiences with him nearly cost us the lives of our entire population. If it wasn't for the sacrifice my son made, we would not be here today." "Sacrifice?" "I dread re-telling the story Captain but I will at least tell you this: Apollo dared to confront this Count Iblis or whoever he claims to be, and he 'lost' the battle, so to speak. But in the end, all of us triumphed. At least until now." "Lost? I don't understand," Picard replied with confusion. "We really don't know all of the details of what actually transpired, except that we do know that Apollo 'challenged' Iblis and was somehow 'killed'. Apparently those others like Iblis, objected to the killing and restored Apollo's life. All my son and his comrades can remember about the ordeal is that these 'beings' determined that Apollo's life had been taken wrongfully since he was not a willing 'follower' of Iblis. It was those same beings who thankfully guided us to Earth, AND sent him away from us just now." "Hmm..." Picard sighed. "Good versus Evil. The theme plays itself out." "Yes but now the BATTLE of 'Good' versus 'Evil' has once again resurfaced. We from the Colonies know that battle well." The Captain slowly rolled to his knees and remarked, "I don't particularly subscribe to the notion of 'Good' and 'Evil' as sentient entities unto themselves. Rather, I see a tormented, very highly evolved life form who apparently has nothing better to do with his time. But then again, since he appears to be immortal, his presence here will most surely complicate our lives for some time to come." Picard struggled to stand up and then slowly hobbled over to Adama. He then remarked with resignation, "Unfortunately, he has single-handedly managed to infiltrate and influence my entire staff." "And mine, as well," Adama added, accepting Picard's outstretched hand as a support to stand on his feet. "Except for my son. From our experiences, one of the ONLY reasons why we were able to break free from Iblis' powerful grip was because he soon began to 'call in his debts'. The Colonists were able to FINALLY see for themselves, the fraud that he had perpetrated and the deceptions he created." "Adama, I know of only two individuals who could possibly give us assistance, one of whom I hesitate to call on." "Who could possibly begin to reverse the enormous damage that has come to pass and who or what, may I ask are the 'Q'?" "Come. Let's return to the ship. There is someone I want you to meet, and I will also brief you on the Q." ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!noc.near.net!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTIONS (part 09/10) ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:19:56 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 280 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com C H A P T E R IX "Ib-lis. Iblis? Now let me see..." "Guinan, this is SERIOUS. The fate of the Federation depends on it." "I see. And so you expect me, a single individual, to try to convince the literally hundreds of billions of lifeforms in the Federation, of his deceit?" Guinan remarked. "That's not what I mean...." Picard retorted with frustration. "Then what DO you mean, Captain? Yes, I know who he is and I have encountered him often enough throughout my lifetime, in several of his many forms, in fact. But I must tell you this... Do NOT take him lightly." "You have met Count Iblis?" Adama asked with surprise. "I have met a great many people in my life, Commander." "How did you not fall prey to him?" the Colonial Commander inquired. "Fall prey?" Guinan smirked. "I 'fall prey' to no one, EXCEPT maybe my Uncle. He always did find a way to get to me sometimes..." "Guinan..." Picard warned. Guinan suddenly became serious and cautioned, "Let me give you some advise. Humans have a tendency to always expect a miracle to save the day for them. Well that's just not going to happen. You've characterized Iblis' presence here as a battle between 'Good' and 'Evil'. Tradition says that 'Good' always triumphs over 'Evil'. But that doesn't happen automatically, without some effort, or EVEN without some sacrifice." "Meaning..." "Meaning that the two of you, knowing what you now know, are going to have to lead that fight. What you seem to want to happen is that someone will come along and snap their fingers like Q, and then everything will instantly be alright. Well let me tell you something. Don't count on it. If anything, even if Q DID get involved, he would only make matters worse." Picard sighed heavily and then said, "What you are saying is that we are going to have to get off our duffs..." "And get to work. In fact, I'd start right now, if I were you," Guinan replied. "This is going to be very, very difficult," Adama remarked. "No one said that life would be a piece of cake," Guinan noted. "Well," Picard said with a sigh and a hint of sarcasm, "thank you Guinan. You certainly have a way of putting a problem into the proper perspective." "No offense gentleman, but I have found that Humans are very gullible. It doesn't take much to win their hearts or their allegiance... IF the offer is sweet enough." ----- As Adama and Picard stood side by side reviewing a star chart on the wall screen, they were suddenly startled by a blinding flash of light that illuminated the Captain's Ready Room aboard the Enterprise. A familiar voice then rang out. "Bonjour, mon 'Capi-tan'... or should I say, mes 'Capi-tans'?" Picard turned around and exclaimed, "Q!" Playfully, Q replied, "I am once again at your service! I believe, 'you rang'?" Adama looked with astonishment at the tall, dark-haired man, dressed in a Star Fleet uniform. "So... you need my help," Q continued. "How touching..." he said with sarcasm. "Not exactly Q," Picard retorted. "Oh come now Jean-Luc," Q responded, with a patronizing tone. "Once again you have managed to get your impotent species and yourself into a bind from which you will NEVER emerge, and besides, who would you rather prefer, 'HIM' or me?" Adama slowly turned his head towards Picard in disbelief of Q's silliness, and then he turned back to look at Q. Q's eyes quickly shifted position to closely scrutinize the Commander of the Battlestar Galactica. "YOU haven't a clue as to who I am, have you?" Q remarked to Adama. "EVEN after mindlessly listening to Jean-Luc's MISERABLE explanation." With a pensive tone in his voice and ignoring the sarcastic remark, Adama inquired, "Do you know Count Iblis?" Q placed his hands behind his back and began to pace around the room, his eyes never leaving Adama's. A cocky grin adorned his face. "Iblis... Iblis?" He paused and then began to merrily laugh. "Is THAT what he's calling himself nowadays? Ooooo, he's so clever, so nefarious, SO... nasty." Q then quickly appeared at Adama's side, brought his lips close to the Commander's ear, and whispered, "That's why I like him so." He then moved away and began to pace again while continuing animately, "Such a charmer he is, 'though he's DEFINITELY too 'cultured' for my tastes. Maybe his methods are not my style, but he IS very, very effective," he concluded, with raised eye brows and a sparkle in his brown eyes. Adama suddenly stiffened with disgust and decided to keep his opinions to himself. "Q, we are QUITE capable of handling our OWN affairs. All we want from you is information," Picard explained. "Capable of handling your OWN affairs???" Q giggled. "RIDICULOUS! You Humans can no more handle your own affairs than a Pakled can invent their own technology." "IS Iblis a member of your Continuum?" Picard asked with impatience. "Why don't you ask 'HIM'?" was the reply. Frustrated, Picard turned away from Q and towards Adama, now overtly ignoring his uninvited guest. "This is useless. Adama, what we will need to do..." "Oh come, come Jean-Luc," Q interrupted. "Don't just dismiss that. You may need my help. In fact, you WILL need my help." "At what cost?" Adama spat. "Cost???" Q giggled again. "COST??? This conversation sounds strangely familiar. Didn't one of you ask 'HIM' that very same question?" "Q, this is serious. VERY serious. Now either you cooperate or leave," Picard threatened. "Touchy, touchy aren't we today, Jean-Luc? If it weren't for my benevolent mood at this moment, I would turn you into a Klingon targ so that Worf can have someone to play with. Those targs DO have the same IQ as he does, you know." "ENOUGH Q!!" Now somewhat discouraged, Adama asked, "Can you defeat Iblis or not?" Picard suddenly spun around and looked directly at Adama, surprised by the frankness of the questioner. "Can I defeat him? Can I...? Oh, what a silly question! You ARE quite amusing, my dear Commander Adama. More fun than a barrel of Dimerian water snakes... OR Klingons, for that matter." Q then darted behind Picard, bent down, and quipped in his ear, "Jean-Luc, why didn't you introduce me to this man earlier?" He then moved away and returned his gaze towards Adama, suddenly dropping his clown act, narrowing his eyes, and continuing with a sinister voice, "Defeat him? Whatever for? Besides, we have an unwritten agreement... we won't interfere with them and they won't interfere with us, UNLESS..." he briefly paused and then began to giggle again, "it would serve to make OUR lives... more exciting!" "Where is Iblis now?" Picard asked, ignoring Q's nonsense and pushing his luck. "I BELIEVE that after he abandoned his groupies to fend for themselves at some rendezvous site, he set off to find your friend. What was his name? Oh yes, Baltar." "Baltar?!" Adama exclaimed. Q began to loudly yawn. He then remarked with a deadpan tone, "Jean-Luc, this conversation is now becoming quite monotonous." Suddenly, he perked up again and said, "However... I think I know of a way to make it more stimulating!" "Q..." Picard warned. "Wait..." Q paused and then his eyes began to brighten. "Yes, YES!! I can see it now!" he then exclaimed, while he enthusiastically clasped his hands in front of him with delight. "OH! And lucky for YOU that I can be on YOUR side! He talks about 'games of life, games of death'. Let's see how creative he REALLY is. I MUST make preparations!!! It's been SOOOO long since I've planned and participated in such a large-scale adventure! Can't stay! See ya soon! Ta TA!" he said, and with a snap of his fingers, he disappeared in another blinding flash of light. Shaking his head in total confusion, Adama remarked, "What in the name of Kobol is he talking about?" Picard began to frown as he paced around the room. He remained silent for a few minutes as he began to contemplate with trepidation, the meaning of Q's declaration. "Captain?" Adama implored, with concern. Picard sighed heavily and then replied, "I dread to even utter ALOUD, what I believe he is planning." "I do not understand," Adama responded. Picard looked directly at Adama with vacant eyes. "We are now pawns," was his only response. "Pawns? Pawns in what...? Suddenly, Adama fell silent, turned and walked across the small room. He then halted and looked directly back at Picard with a modicum of understanding. "We cannot agree to be a party to this type of manipulation." "We may have no choice. It may be too late. There may be nothing that we can do about it." "But surely you can convince this Q not to..." "No. From our past experiences with him, once he decides to embark on some scenario that he has created, some event he wants to occur, he's bound to finish it... to the very end." Adama turned away, walked towards the small window in the room, and said to the vacuum of space, "Then I fear for ALL our peoples." Picard fixed his stare at the fish tank across the room and replied bitterly, "As do I, Commander. As do I." ----- Picard sat at the table in his Ready Room, carefully reviewing the status reports that detailed the ship movements of the Colonial Fleet. The door chime sounded. "Come," Picard instinctively responded, while continuing to focus on his viewscreen. Lieutenant Worf and Commander Riker entered the room. Picard looked up and addressed them. "Report." "Captain, fifty-three of our crew are unaccounted for," Worf grumbled. "Fifty-three? Are they still on the planet surface?" Picard asked nervously. "We checked with the Administrators and the local law enforcement offices on Pacifica and the only conclusive thing that they could tell us is that a convoy of ships left Pacifica sometime yesterday. THEY believe that some of the ships MAY have contained Star Fleet personnel." "A convoy of ships? Bound for where?" Picard demanded. "They appeared to be heading for Ipus Minor," William Riker responded. Picard now stood and began to walk around his table. "Ipus Minor? I recall Commander Adama mentioning that system as a destination for some of his Fleet's vessels. That's out near the border..." "Captain," Worf interrupted, "some of my top Security Officers were apparently part of this group. In fact, at least two Officers from the Battlestar Galactica who were aboard the Enterprise may have also joined them as well. The only common thing I can recall mentioned by most of these individuals during the past week was 'Darrion Marks'." Picard took a deep breath at the mention of the name. "Marks... damn." "And speaking of him, it appears that HE is missing too," Riker commented. "So it begins..." Picard softly stated. "What was that sir?" Riker asked. "It is time that we call a meeting for all Senior Staff. I will brief all of you on what has happened," Picard replied. ----- Captain's Log. Supplemental "Our review of both the Federation's and the Galactica's starcharts have suggested the possibility of a very unique finding, not only with respect to the whereabouts of this 'Count Iblis', but also with respect to the possible point of entry of the Colonial Fleet into Federation space, after they fled the Cylon attack on their home worlds. We have found that Ipus Minor, a relatively small system on the edge of a minimally explored region of space near the Federation border, lies near a quarantined area of space just outside the border, that includes Ipus Minor's twin system, which the Federation calls 'Ipus Major'. Ipus Major is located adjacent to a large subspace anomaly, a magnetic void so large and so intense that it gained the nickname, 'Bermuda Triangle', in dubious honor of the mythical area on Earth's Atlantic ocean known for swallowing up large sea-going vessels and atmospheric aircraft centuries ago. After the loss of numerous exploratory vessels in that area during the Federation's early, routine travel is forbidden there, and hence few would have observed the appearance of the great number of ships that may have entered that region over a year ago. Ipus Major, the site of a large, burned-out star and several Class-M planets, may be the location of the system where the Colonists believe they and other Humans are descended, specifically from a planet they call 'Kobol'. The little information that we have on the planets in that system indicated the presence of a vast civilization, long abandoned since the sun went nova many thousands of years ago. We are in the process of requesting special permission to travel there, not only to try to recover our 'renegade' Officers but to also confirm the identity of the planets and their possible link to the Colonial government." ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!agate!darkstar.UCSC.EDU!news.hal.COM!olivea!uunet!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTIONS (part 10/10) ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:20:39 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 208 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com C H A P T E R X "Father, what you are saying is that ALL along, it was Count Iblis who we were dealing with and NOT Ambassador Marks?" Athena asked. "I'm afraid so," Adama sighed. "I knew it!" Apollo exclaimed. "I knew all along that something wasn't right with that Ambassador. I just couldn't put my finger..." "No need to cry over spilled milk Apollo. What's done, is done," Adama replied. "But Father, I... I... it's MY fault. I, I helped him and..." Athena stammered. "You weren't the only one Athena. He deceived nearly everyone, not only aboard this ship, not only on the planet surface, but throughout the Federation, including on the Galactica," Adama sadly explained. "The Galactica? But..." Athena began. "Athena, listen to me. Now is the time for clear heads. We have a long road ahead of us," Adama continued. "What do you mean?" Apollo interrupted. "Didn't you say that he was gone?" "Yes I did, but I didn't finish. We recently found out WHERE he went and unfortunately, it was to Baltar." "Baltar? Why Baltar? Father," the frustrated Apollo said, "what is going on around here?" "But Father! Starbuck and Sheba went WITH him!" Athena cried out. "It appears that Iblis has successfully drawn us into a confrontation with the Cylons," Adama concluded. "I don't get it. You mean he...? Well, what about that group who...?" "It gets worse Apollo. Just this morning, Captain Picard and I were visited by some very highly evolved, very powerful lifeform who calls himself, 'Q'. In fact, this 'entity' appears to be very similar to Iblis and his kind. This 'Q' is aware of our dealings with Iblis and has decided to use us as pawns in some plan he has concocted to challenge Iblis as to who is 'superior' and 'more creative'." "Now wait just a centon, you mean to tell us that we're about to be manipulated? Forced to do something AGAINST our will?" Apollo shouted. "That's right." "But Father, we can't... we won't..." Apollo replied. "We have no choice." "There's ALWAYS a choice. We can't be forced to..." "According to Captain Picard, who has had a number of encounters with this 'Q', there's nothing we can do about it." "Really?" Apollo remarked. "I'll TELL you what we do. We don't go along with this game. We don't travel anywhere near..." "And what if this 'Q' snaps his fingers and we find ourselves in the middle of a battle? What then? Do we retreat? Do we just sit there like..." "Then we resist! We cannot..." "Apollo, we are bound to follow our destiny. According to several passages in the 'Book of the Word', it was prophesied that before we reach a period of lasting peace in our existence, we must endure one last battle. I believe that THIS may be it," Adama responded. "Father, I don't mean any disrespect, but... haven't we ALREADY fought that battle... against the Cylons?" Apollo asked. "Ah... but if you read the passages, you will clearly see that it mentions a war that would last 'ten times one hundred yahrens', which obviously refers to our 'Thousand Yahren War' against the Cylons. As you read further, you will see where it says that we would join with our 'brothers from the planet Earth', and be involved in one, last great war. I believe that what is to come, will BE that war." The previously silent Athena piped in with, "If that is the case and if Iblis decides to fight with the Cylons against us, then we will lose." "Not according to the prophets, Athena," Adama replied. "They CLEARLY state that with the assistance of the Thirteenth Tribe, we would emerge victorious." "But how?" she insisted. "With the help of this 'Q'," was the reply. "Father, the way you have described this 'Q' character, I'm not sure if I would WANT him on our side," Apollo responded. "Regardless Apollo, HE has determined that HE will fight on our side, and however obnoxious I feel he is, we must deal with him from now on." "Father, I hope that none of what you are saying EVER comes about," Apollo said. "Oh it will Apollo. I believe that it is time for the Galactica to fight one last battle before she is retired, and that battle will come at Kobol, our mother world. It WILL happen. It is our destiny." ----- Commander William T. Riker sat at the conference table, rubbed his eyes, and said, "Captain, so what you are saying is that this WHOLE thing was all part of one big deception?" "That's right Number One," was the reply. "And we all fell for it, lock, stock, and barrel," Geordi La Forge lamented. "From what I gather, hundreds may have fallen for it, thousands perhaps, over a long period of time, Mister La Forge. What we must try to do now is to 'neutralize' the effects of the 'deception'. That will be the hard part. I have already notified Star Fleet of what has occurred and they are busy dispatching teams of psychologists to assist." Now nervously stroking his beard, Riker remarked, "Captain, most of us sitting here had an integral part in assisting this 'Count Iblis'... unintentionally of course." He shook his head in disbelief and concluded, "I can't believe that I was so stupid!" "There's no need to blame yourself, Will. We need to turn our attention to what Q plans on doing in the near future," Picard noted. "Q! I REALLY don't understand that. Why has HE decided to get involved?" Riker asked. "Apparently Commander, he has recognized a being similar to himself and wishes to interact with him," Commander Data surmised. "Yes," Beverly Crusher piped in, "using US as his guinea pigs. Jean-Luc, is there ANY way we can avoid..." "Beverly, you know as well as I that trying to convince Q NOT to do something is akin to telling him to go on and do it. It's an exercise in futility." "Then that means that we better prepare for war and casualties. A war that NONE of us is prepared to fight." "That's right Doctor. It appears to be inevitable," Picard replied. "If it DOES turn out to be a war against those technologically backwards Cylons, then we SHALL be victorious!" Worf proclaimed. "Not if this 'Count Iblis' equips them with his knowledge of our defensive capabilities," Riker explained. "But didn't Q say that HE would be on OUR side?" Geordi asked. Everyone in the room collectively stared at Geordi in disbelief. "Okay, so he ISN'T the best ally to have at a time like this, but that's all we have!" Geordi tried to justify. "Counselor, do you have any opinions about this?" Deanna stared blankly across the table. "Deanna?" Riker prodded, now concerned. "I'm sorry. No Captain, I... I have nothing to add." Disturbed, Picard decided not to push it and replied, "Very well then. Prepare to break orbit as soon as the rest of our crew has beamed aboard. Dismissed." ----- Adama and Picard were reviewing data on a viewscreen when a sudden flash of light re-appeared in the Captain's Ready Room. "Q! What do you want? You've caused enough trouble..." Picard began. "Moi? I caused YOU trouble? How silly! I'm only here to help," Q remarked. "Q, don't do this. Don't..." "It's too late Picard. It's already begun. Think of this as a mental exercise to..." "I DON'T NEED ANY MENTAL EXERCISES!" Picard bellowed. "Oh tsk tsk tsk, Jean-Luc. I think it's time to open your mind to what REALLY lies out there... somewhere," Q replied, with a wave of his hand. "Like the Borg, who YOU exposed us to? Who slaughtered millions of our..." "Here we go again. That's all you seem to care about, isn't it Jean-Luc? It's those suffering and dying Humans, all... over... again... At least Commander Adama is more open-minded and is looking forward to this. HE realizes that THIS is HIS destiny." "Q, LEAVE him out of this..." Picard threatened. "Why should I?" Q replied. "It's time Jean-Luc, to look beyond the concrete and the tangible. Adama seems to have more of an awareness of what the universe is REALLY about than you EVER have or EVER will. Jean-Luc, I am about to take YOU and your PITIFUL, unimaginative crew, on a journey into what you call the 'metaphysical'. An experience that is sure to rattle your pathetic, narrow-minded selves. A voyage into the..." "Q! That's ENOUGH!" "Very well, mon 'Capi-tan'. But let me give you some advise and a warning. If you wish to survive, I suggest that you listen to Adama. Listen carefully, for what he says and does will be the key to YOUR future and that of your SORRY band of Human dopplegangers." And with that, Q flashed out of existence. Picard sighed heavily and looked over at Adama with frustration. "Captain?" Adama inquired. "It's alright. Perhaps I WILL take his advise. You, more than I, know that part of space AND know about how to deal with those Cylons," Picard explained. "Your assessment is flattering Captain, however it is apparently untrue, as my people are now here, rather than there, on our respective planets, due to our LACK of knowledge of how to deal with those self-same Cylons." "Commander, I believe that things will work out in the end." "So say the prophets of Kobol, Captain. But we have much more turmoil to go through before we come to that time," Adama noted. ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN. Path: newserv.ksu.ksu.edu!moe.ksu.ksu.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!sol.ctr.columbia.edu!news.kei.com!eff!news.duke.edu!godot.cc.duq.edu!toads.pgh.pa.us!newsfeed.pitt.edu!uunet!news.delphi.com!usenet ~From: bjhenry@delphi.com ~Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative ~Subject: DECEPTIONS (Postlogue) ~Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 20:21:26 -0500 Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice) ~Lines: 68 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com P O S T L O G U E Captain's Log. Stardate: 47352.8 "We are enroute back to Proxima Centuri to return the members of the Colonial government to their convoy. Our voyage is a solemn one as we await the occurrence of the confrontation between the Cylons and the Federation, promised by Q. Star Fleet has notified us that the entire border area near Ipus Minor has been designated as off-limits and Federation bases nearby are on twenty-four hour Yellow Alert, in anticipation of any increased activity. Federation monitoring of Baltar's Baseship has indicated that it has retreated further into Romulan space and may have encountered a Romulan task force. Further attempts at scanning in that area have subsequently been blocked. At this point, we will go about our normal missions until such time that we are recalled to assist the Colonists, who will shortly be transported via warp-capable colonization ships to their selected destinations. Picard out." Adama's Journal: The U.S.S. Enterprise is on its way back to the Fleet, following a moderately successful Federation membership conference, where we have begun negotiations towards our settlement in this part of space. Despite the numerous setbacks that we have endured over the past secton, I believe that we are well on our way to becoming fully established within the Federation, whether as official members or not. What hangs over us at this point is a situation that looms in the not too distance future, one which will ultimately test our perseverance and determination. I feel that the final fulfillment of the great prophesy as set forth in the Book of the Word is forthcoming and I pray that we will have the strength to see it through. Adama out." ---------------------COPYRIGHT/DISCLAIMER NOTICE---------------- This story, _Deceptions_, by B.J. Henry, is a figment of the author's imagination. Characters portrayed are fictional and do not reflect actual people, either living or deceased. "Star Trek", "Star Trek: The Next Generation", it's characters and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Paramount_Studios_ Corporation. "Battlestar Galactica", it's characters, and certain technological devices and/or references to such, from the television show, may be or are registered trademarks of, and may be or are copyrighted by the _Universal_Studios_ Corporation. Neither Studio is responsible for the content of this story. THIS STATEMENT MUST ACCOMPANY THE STORY _DECEPTIONS_ IF DISTRIBUTED. THIS STORY IS FREE OF CHARGE AND MAY NOT BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED FOR FINANCIAL RETURN.