Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters. 

Luminaria

    “Geordi, Geordi,” a child’s voice filled the room. The walls changed to show a field. The room became one continuous image. “Geordi?” The little voice called. “Don’t run so fast.” A smaller child was chasing after him. Geordi, about 10 years old, stopped, stomping the ground with his foot, “come on,” he said in frustration. 

    Geordi jumped up out of the chair. The room flashed back to its white state. He was shocked.

    “Geordi?” Deanna called his name, with a calm voice.

    “I remember that. But how did it take thoughts and transform them into images?” 

    Data sat in the chair. Again the room went dark, the lights danced all around them. A study appeared before them. Data and Geordi knew where they were. The smell of her perfume flooded Data’s senses. The scene changed on the walls, there was a stone patio and wall. The wind was blowing gently through the leaves. “You seem upset.” Data voiced.

    “I have been called to duty.” Geordi recognized her accent.

    “Where are you going?”

    “I don’t know. Westerfield wouldn’t tell me.”

    “Is that a bad thing?”

    “Yes, it is. This stinks. He called me to his office two weeks ago telling me there could be a possible mission. A possible mission means that only he and maybe 3 other Admirals know about it; a likely mission means that the Admiral panel has reviewed the proposal; a mission means that the President has signed off on it. He calls me this morning to tell me he has a green light to do the mission. Right!” She said in frustration. “You do not get 10 old men and 5 battle axes to agree on anything in two weeks.”

    “Why does,” Data thought for a minute, “going to work upset you so?”

    She smiled, “you have been paying attention. My vacation isn’t up. The last mission I was on was mentally and physically exhausting. I took extra time to recover.” The scene shifted to include a table and two chairs. Data was sitting with his back to the wall. “This is just wrong. I haven’t received a pack regarding the mission or anything. Just a set of coordinates that match nothing the Federation has to offer.” 

    “Decline the mission.”

    “It isn’t that simple.” She sighed. “Then when I am in his office, he tries to get me to sleep with him.”

    “That is immoral?”

    “Yes, it is. Especially when the good Admiral Charles Westerfield is married. They have 2 children. He is such a sleaze. I knew his last receptionist well. She was a pretty little thing. He got her pregnant. They proved it was his baby. DNA is such a wonderful thing. He tried to get her to have an abortion. When she wouldn’t, he had her shipped off to Pentarus V.”

    “Sleaze?”

    “Immoral.”

    “Oh. What are you going to do?”

    “Go off to Ten-Buck-Two in the middle of freaking nowhere. I don’t know if you ever plan on attending Star Fleet. If you choose too someday, keep the hell away from that man. He must have screwed his way to become an Admiral. He surely didn’t work his way to that position.”

    “Screwed?”

    “Sleep with anyone that would sleep with him to get what he wanted.”

    “Oh.”

    “I hope darlin’ that someday your emotions will develop to include a sixth sense. Or intuition most folks call it. It tells you a lot about the people you meet. Like Noonien and Juliana, I like her but would prefer to hurt him. But being around Westerfield makes me feel dirty. And I can’t stand for him to touch me.”

    He got up out of the chair. The images stopped. “That is enough of that.” 

    “What that is that thing?” Wil asked. Deanna had scooted next to him. 

    “It is a luminaria.” Data answered.

    “I have heard of those,” Geordi exclaimed. “I didn’t think one could exist.”

    “Why?” Deanna asked.

    It takes light waves and generates images of thoughts.” Data explained as he walked out of the room. 

Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters. 

Frog people?

    “What the….” Picard stopped short. There were five green figures on the bridge. 

Creatures none of them hadseen before.

    “Hmm,” Data voiced, “frogs with hair.” He sat back down at his console.

    Deanna controlled a giggle. She got a stern look from the Captain.

    “What are you doing now Data?” Wil asked.

    “I am attempting to vent the atmosphere inside the vessel. It is methane with a trace amount of oxygen.”

   “Methane?” Westerfield questioned.

   “Normal atmospheric levels are rising.” Data continued working on his console. “Atmospheric levels at 50, 60, 70, 80, 90, 100%.”

    “What is normal atmospheric level?” Picard asked.

    “100% oxygen.”

    “You are kidding?” Will scoffed.

   Data kept working away at his console. His station would make periodic high-pitched beeping sounds.

    “What is that racket?” Westerfield snapped. 

   “I am attempting to regulate the oxygen levels to more of a humanoid intake. Earth’s atmosphere is 79% nitrogen and 21 % oxygen. The lowest it is allowing me to go is a 90/10 mix. 90% oxygen and 10% nitrogen.” His console beeped again. He turned to the Captain shaking his head. 

    Deanna, Wil, Data, and Geordi, check it out.” Picard ordered. “I want answers.”

    “Yes sir.” They said in unison.

    Once they were aboard the Jormungand, Data flipped out his tricorder to take readings from the ship. “You might experience a slight headache. The longer you are here, the less it will hurt.”

    “No one is alive here.” Deanna said with a heavy heart.

    “And it stinks.” Geordi crinkled his nose. “Ewe.” 

    They were standing in a large room. There were tapestries hanging on the walls, four on either side. Great tapestries.

    Data saw himself sitting at a desk. His fingers covered with charcoal dust. The drawings were everywhere around him. He heard her voice in the background dictating what she wanted. Her voice drove him mad. He wanted to reach into his mind and pull her out. 

   “Would you look at those.” Geordi marveled. His voice brought Data back into the large room.

    “How old do you think they are?” Wil questioned.

    Each tapestry had a lover’s scene on it, a romantic couple sitting on a swing, a man playing the violin for his lady; one was especially painful for Data, a picnic scene. The room oozed of love.

    “I believe we have saw enough of the ballroom.” Data shocked them. “Shall we locate the bridge now?” His voice was harsh.

    The three looked bewildered as Data walked away. “Data?” Wil asked as they walked. “What was that little display on the bridge?”

    “What display sir?”

    “Your disappearing act with the Captain?”

     Data stopped in the door of the ballroom. “There are people on the Enterprise that are not welcomed over here.” He kept walking.

    Upon exiting the ballroom, they entered a hallway. Clear glass cases on black marble pedestals lined the walls.

Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters. 

“I didn’t touch it!”

    It seemed the instant Captain Picard and Data stepped on the bridge, the view screen became static. The young ensign sitting in Data’s chair spun around. In a scared voice she reported, “I didn’t touch it sir.”

    Data cocked his head to one side. He was concentrating on something. 

    “What is it?” Wil asked.

    “I hear something. I think I hear something.”

    “Well the rest of us don’t hear it!” Westerfield shouted. “We hear static.” He threw his arms up in the air.

    Jean-Luc turned to him giving him a hard look.

    Data walked to his station. “It is okay ensign.” She scampered from the bridge. Data began to work on his console. “There is something there, a noise, very faint. I am attempting to filter the feedback.” As Data worked, a noise did appear. It was distorted. The more he worked the more an understandable voice developed from the static. It was low, animalistic in nature. The sounds were repeating over and over, ‘AYVGLAPC BPFXEUMP!’

    “What is it saying?” Picard asked.

    “Identify yourself.” Data replied

    “This is the Federation Starship Enterprise. I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard.” There was silence. 

    Finally after several minutes of nervous tension ‘SJNL YT BTF SNGL?’  

    “What do you want?” Data translated.

    “What do we want? What kind of question is that?” Westerfield asked.

    “An honest one.” Jean-Luc responded. “To help you.”

    “STNL ZNVUE BTF LJAGV A GUUY JUMO?”

    Data spoke, “what makes you think I need help?”

    Jean-Luc stared at Data. “You are kidding?”

    “No Captain, that was the question asked. May I?”

    “Please.”

    “No, we don’t know what you are telling that thing.” Westerfield snapped.

    The view screen came on. The Jormungand was still floating outside.

    “Data,” Geordi broke in, “sensors show that the Jormungand hasn’t been on for at least a month. Everything about him is cold. Looks like the lights are the only things burning. That is what makes us think he needed help.”    

    “SJB AE SUETUXPAUMY TL RTNXY?”

    Data just looked at Picard. “What?” He asked.

    “Sir,” Data pointed to the ready room. Once they were inside. “Captain, the ship wanted to know why Westerfield is on board?”

    “Really? Why is that important?”

    “Westerfield is not a liked man sir. There are a lot of alien civilizations that would like to do him great harm.”

    “Okay. What do we tell it?”

    “The truth, Westerfield will not tell us the true objective of our mission. We only know we are to check on the status of a Goodwill Ambassador.”

    “Let’s pray that works.” They reentered the bridge. 

    “SUETUXPAUMY SAMM GTL LUMM E FJU FXFU TRQUKLAWU TP TFX ZAEEATG. SU TGMB VGTS SU NXU LT KJUKV TG LJU ELNLFE TP N HTTYSAMM NBAEENYTX.” Data spoke to it.

    “VUUO JAZ NSND PXTX.” Came the reply. 

    Data and Picard disappeared into the ready room again. “What this time?” 

    “He is asking that Westerfield be kept away from him.”

    “They reentered the bridge. Picard spoke. “You have my word, I will do everything in my power as Captain to make sure of it.” 

    The image on the view screen changed to show the inside of the ship.

Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters. 

Exploration

  Everyone hurried back to the bridge.

    “Talk to me Data,” Picard ordered.

    His fingers worked frantically at his console. “The USS Jormungand, sir. Built by the federation for a private individual. End of story, Captain.”

    “What?” Picard said in shock.

    “The Federation built this thing.” Westerfield scoffed. “It amazes me what the Federation does with its money.”

    “There is no more information from Star Fleet sir,” Data answered. “Jormungand was a mythical Norse figure. A serpent.” Data spun around in his chair facing Picard. “According to mythology. Jormungand is one of three children of the god Loki and his wife, the giantess Angrboda. The gods were well aware that this monster was growing fast and that it would one day bring much evil upon gods and men. So Odin deemed it advisable to render it harmless. He threw the serpent in the ocean that surrounds the entire world (Earth) hence the name Midgard Serpent. It lies deep in the ocean where it bites itself on the tail, and all mankind is caught within its coils. At the destruction of the universe, Jormungard and Thor will kill each other.”

    Westerfield groaned, “thank you for the lesson in mythology.” He got a stern look from Picard.

    “This ship looks like a dragon, not a snake.” Will observed.

    “Wait,” Worf growled. “If the Jormungand is a bad thing, then it is safe to assume that this ship is a war ship. We must proceed with caution, sir.”

    “Agreed,” Picard said.

    As Data turned back to his station he kept seeing charcoal drawings of the ship before him. He shook it off.

    “Data?” Picard asked.

    “If this vessel was built by the Federation, then our technologies should be compatible.” Data commented.

    “Make it so. Mr. Worf, try hailing it.”

    “Aye sir.” The first time Worf tried the ships wings unfolded.

    “Wow!” Geordi sighed.

    The second time Worf tried the ships eyes turned red.

    A shot of pain ripped through Data. His vision was blurry. “Stop!” He stumbled out of his chair, around to Worf.

    “What is the meaning of this,” Westerfield barked. “Talk to the damn thing!”

    “Delay that order,” Jean-Luc said with a stern voice.

    “I gave you an order Lieutenant.” Westerfield screamed. 

    “I said delay that order. This is my command Admiral. Do you think you can do a better job?”

    “It is not a question of better job. It is a question of getting answers now.” 

    “We will not be able to get answers if my crew is dead and my ship destroyed.”

    Westerfield grunted.

    Data’s head was spinning. He inhaled a sharp breath.

    Jean-Luc’s communicator beeped. “Picard here.”

    “Captain?” Beverly spoke. The crew on the bridge could hear wailing and screaming in the background. “What is going on up there?”

    Data was unable to maintain his balance. “Worf,” he called as he stumbled backwards. 

    Mr. Worf caught him, guiding him back to the railing behind Picard. Data opened a communication channel. “SU ZUNG BTF GT JNXG.” His voice was full of pain. So much so that he could barely speak. The ringing in his ears grew louder. The turbo lift doors slid open allowing Beverly to step onto the bridge.

    Worf could no longer support Data. He collapsed in the floor.

    The ships eyes began to close and its wings began to fold back against the hull.

    Beverly rushed over to Data. He was still unconscious. She examined his head. There was a yellow substance oozing from his ears. “Let’s get him to sick bay.”

    “Number One, you have the bridge.” The Captain ordered.

    “Yes sir.”

    “Wait a minute,” Westerfield snapped. “What do you think you’re doing?”

    “I have an officer down.”

    “I don’t care. Talk to the damn thing. Find out what it is.”

    “Look at it,” Jean-Luc pointed out the window. “Does it look like it’s going someplace?” I have an officer down. When we fix this situation, we will address the ship out there. Understood!”

    Westerfield was furious. “This will be noted in my report to Star Fleet.”

    “Please do.” Picard snapped.

    Jean-Luc accompanied them to sickbay. Once there he saw 10 different alien species, crew and civilians alike, some with headaches, some complaining about ringing in the ears. “What do they have in common?” 

    “They all have acute hearing.” Beverly answered as she examined Data’s ears. 

    He grabbed her by the wrist. She jumped. He opened his eyes, taking a long look around. “Did it work?”  

    “Yes Data, it worked.” Captain Picard reassured him. “How do you feel?”

    He let Beverly go. “Sorry Doctor.” He moved his legs, “sore sir. I have,” he thought for a moment. “I have a headache sir.”

    “What just happened?”

    “It is my opinion that the Jormungand thought it was under attack and was merely defending itself.” Data looked at all the people in sickbay with him. “It is possible the hailing frequency we use was too low. It could have been mistaken for a growl, an aggressive action.”

    “Why didn’t the words have meaning?” Jean-Luc continued.

    “Words have no meaning, sir, if you cannot understand them.”

    “True.” He agreed. “Do you feel up to going back to the bridge?”

    “Yes sir.”

    One of the aliens they picked up on Anunious 5 lunged at Data screaming in his native language. Two of the nurses grabbed him.

   “No, let him go.” Data said.

    He stepped closer to Data. His voice was almost robotic through the ships translator. “You have to fix this.”

    “Fix what?”

    “Fix what?” He mocked Data.

    “Yes. Fix what?”

    “Fool.” He hissed, returning to his corner of sick bay.