The Devil's Doorknob BBS Capture (1996-2003)/devilsdoorknobbbscapture1996-2003.iso/Dloads/TEXTFILE/STDUNE.ZIP/DUNE2.TXT

Text File | 1992-02-07 | 17KB | 514 lines

Item    7258651                 92/02/06        23:03

From:   J.HYCHE                         Jeff Hyche

To:     M.ALLEGRETTO                    M Allegretto

Sub: Dune/Star Trek 2 of 5


Riker:  And what kind of attack was it?

Worf:  All decks reporting calm.  There have been no other apparent incidents.

Data:  There were no unusual energy emissions detected by our scanners.  That
continues to be the case.  Commander Troi could either have suffered from some
manner of telepathic assualt, or...

Picard:  Or?

Data:  Or, she simply could have collapsed.

Riker:  Oh, come on, Data.  That would be one hell of a coincidence.

Data:  It is, nevertheless, a possibility.

[Picard walks toward the screen.  His look is very intense.  Silence]

Riker:  Captain?

Worf:  Captain, is something wrong?  Shall I alert Dr. Crusher...

Picard:  No.  No.  This sphere.  Perhaps not a means of hiding at all.

Worf:  How do you mean, Captain?

Picard:  Perhaps, a means of keeping something in.

Riker:  The Nadia has been able to leave and re-enter the sphere.  As have ships
from Cey 4.

Picard:  A magic circle.

Riker:  A what?

Data:  A magic circle.  In ancient mythology, sorcerers were said to keep
demons at bay by imprisoning them in a magic circle.  In theory, the sorcerer -
or anyone else - could cross such a boundary at will.  The demon could not.

Riker:  Please, Data.

Picard:  Get me the Nadia.

[Killpatrik comes on screen]

Killpatrik:  Enterprise, has something happened?  You're at red alert...

Picard:  A member of my crew has collapsed.  Perhaps some form of mental attack.
You do not have any betazoid's aboard your vessel?

Killpatrik:  Negative, Picard.  Pretty much, we're half and half.  Klingons and
Terrans.

Data:  It is possible that Commander Troi's increased sensitivity made her a
vulnerable target, where - no offense, Captain - the less developed human
awareness served as some form of defense.

Worf:  And, I assume, the less developed Klingon awareness as well?

Data:  Yes.  And that of the other races aboard.  I do not mean to imply any
inferiority.

Picard:  Quite understood, Data.  My own thoughts follow a similar line.  Nadia
Back out.  Slowly.  We shall follow once you are clear of the sphere.

Killpatrik:  You really think you crew member was deliberately attacked?

Picard:  We cannot rule that out.  We shall cover your retreat.

Killpatrik:  Well, if you think that best...

Picard:  I do.  [turning to Worf]  Ready phasers.  Shields at full.

Worf:  Yes, sir.

Killpatrik:  Very well.  Nadia out.

[The Nadia begins to move.  As she nears the Enterprise, extensive damage to
her saucer section becomes plain.  It is badly crumpled along an edge.  The
Nadia passes over the Enterprise and disappears from the screen.  Picard takes
his seat.]

Worf:  They have cleared the sphere.

Picard:  Back us out, Ensign Crusher.

Wesley:  Yes, sir.

Picard:  Stop!

Wesley:  Sir?

Picard:  Something just occured to me.  Something disturbing.

Riker:  More demons?

Picard:  Of a sort, Number One.  Suppose we are inside some form of magic
circle.  Designed to keep something in.  And suppose Commander Troi now
houses whatever it was...

Riker:  Sir, with all respect, demonic possession?

Picard:  Of a sort, Number One.  I realize it may sound outrageous.  But we
have encountered outrageous things in the past.  Have we not?

Riker:  Yes, but...

Picard:  But what if?  What if we move outside the sphere now?  Will we be
setting something free?

Riker:  The Nadia has moved in and out.  So have ships from the planet...

Picard:  Humans and Klingons, all.

Riker:  Are you saying we're just going to sit here?

Killpatrik:  Enterprise?  Enterprise?  Is everything all right?  Are you
coming out?

Picard:  Negative, Nadia.  We may have a complication.

Killpatrik:  Serious?

Picard:  Potentially.  We shall remain in constant contact.

Dr. Crusher [over comm-link]:  Captain.  This is fascinating.  I think you
should come down here.

Picard:  On my way.  You have the bridge, Number One



______________________________________________________________________________




[Sick bay.  Picard, Data, and Dr. Crusher stand by Troi's prone form.]

Data:  She appears to have no brain activity.

Picard:  A coma?

Dr. Crusher:  No.  She has more brain activity than that instrument can show.
Literally, off the scale.  Her body has fallen into some kind of trance to
compensate.

Picard:  She's in shock, then?

Data:  Deep sleep, perhaps?  An advanced state of dreaming?

Dr. Crusher:  Basically.  All sensory regions of her brain are receiving a
phenomenal amount of information.  Especially her vision.  She is definitely
dreaming.  Only it's like she's dreaming the dreams of everybody aboard the
Enterprise.  All at once.

Data:  This could reinforce your theory, Captain.  If some form of higher
intelligence were seeking to control her body, this would be symptomatic.

Picard:  Yes.

Dr. Crusher:  Well, I won't rule that out, but...

Picard:  Skepticism is understandable.  Can you wake her up?

Dr. Crusher:  Not with that level of brain activity.  If she even came up to
the REM stage of dreaming, it would rip her optic nerve and eye muscles apart.
I can't imagine what would happen if she neared waking.  The muscle spasms
would be horrible.  In fact, I suspect her body would automatically shut down
again before she approached the danger thresholds.

Picard:  Is she in danger as it is?

Dr. Crusher:  That's hard to say.  Physically, I don't hink so.

Data:  But insanity may be a possibility?

Dr. Crusher:  Yes.  Her brain will be trying to sort out all this input.  And
it will almost certainly fail...

Data:  Perhaps T'Selar...

Picard:  Vulcans!  They could be in danger, also!

Data:  That is true.  Vulcans do possess an advanced mental awareness.  I
should not have forgotten...

Picard [hitting comm device]:  T'Selar!  T'Selar!

[No response]

Picard:  Worf!

Worf:  Yes, Captain?

Picard:  Find T'Selar immediately.  Check the status of all Vulcans aboard.

Riker:  You think they may be in danger?  Like Troi?

Picard:  Yes.  I'm on my way to the bridge.

Dr. Crusher:  I'll do my best here, but...

Picard:  Understood.  Come, Data.



_______________________________________________________________________




First, a few words from your moi.  Well, we've pretty much finished setting
things up.  Bloody about time, I'm sure you thinking.  I have a few comments
before getting into the rest of the story, though.  Wesley is about to become
an important character.  Now, I am fully aware that he is no longer a part of
the cast.  I must admit, I don't follow the show regularly.  I'm still a
season or so out of date (I don't have a tv, so that's my excuse).  Now, with
regards to Wesley, I know he has taken a lot of flak from the 'fans.'
Especially those convinced that some failed tv series returned to late night
cult status was the be all and end all of the story concept (and there wasn't
some punky teenager on THAT bridge, no siree bob).  Well, I LIKED Wesley.  So
please, do not complain about my being out of date or my use of a character
you consider a boob.  Another potential problem, I suppose, is that quite
possibly a great many of you are unfamiliar with Herbert's novels, in which
case very little of this may be crystal clear.  I can only hope it will still
flow well enough to make for an interesting story.  Lastly, Star Trek is
about as PG as science fiction can get.  I'm a little uncertain about the
wisdom of weaving Baron Harkonnen into the story.  It jumps us up to PG-13,
I suppose.  Now, I'm thinking we're all kind of a university crowd, and most
of you subscribe to things like alt.sex without admitting it.  If that's not
the case, I apologize for any offense the Baron may cause.  It's still pretty
tame by SF standards, but then who knows?

Well, enough babble...

[Wesley's quarters.  The room is dark.  He is asleep.  A strange shape takes
form near him.  A very tall, unspeakable obesse man.  Wesley wakes up.]

Wesley:  Who are you?

Harkonnen:  How rude, dear boy!  I know who you are.  In all politeness, you
should return the favor.

Wesley:  We've never met...

Harkonnen:  Perhaps not.  You're point?

Wesley:  Then how could you know me?

Harkonnen:  Oh, poor, stupid child.  Have you met everyone you know?

Wesley:  I know I don't know you.  I know I'd like you to leave this room.  I
know I'm about to call security.

Harkonnen:  But my beautiful little rabbit, I'm not in your room.

Wesley:  Oh, no?

Harkonnen:  I'm in your mind.

Wesley:  What!?

Harkonnen:  Oh, pitiful little creature.  How sad, to be so pretty and yet so
weak of mind.  But then, I suppose that is so often the case.  And it makes
things so much easier for people like me.

Wesley:  Get away from me!

Harkonnen:  Oh, that would be difficult, dear Wesley.  Very difficult.

Wesley [pounding the wall comm device]:  Security!  Security!

Harkonnen:  Tsk, tsk.  This is going to be very embarrassing.  You may want
to get dressed.  Then again...  You may like to stay the way you are.  Hmmm?



______________________________________________________________________



[The bridge.  Picard looks very tired.  Worf enters with T'Selar.]

Worf:  I have found T'Selar.  She appeared to be in a trance.  I was afraid she
had suffered an attack similar to Commander Troi.  She awakened quickly,
however.

T'Selar:  I felt it best to explore more before contacting you, Captain.  Worf's
intrusion changed my decision.  I must say, this is most fascinating.

Picard:  What?  What is most fascinating?

T'Selar:  This ship.  No signs of life have been detected, and yet the presence
of millions of minds is incontrovertible.

Picard:  Millions of minds?  What do you mean?

T'Selar:  Precisely that.  There are millions of minds aboard that ship.

Data:  I have never known a full Vulcan to exaggerate.

T'Selar:  I am not exaggerating.

Picard:  You're saying that vessel has a crew in the millions?

T'Selar:  No...

Data:  As large as it is, that vessel could not hold that many beings, unless
they were of a truly diminuative stature.

T'Selar:  Or no stature at all.

Picard:  Explain.

T'Selar:  I do not sense millions of beings.  Just intellect.  And it is not
originating from the ship as a whole.  Rather, this mass of intellect appears
to be concentrated in a very small space.  How small, I cannot say exactly.  I
feel certain it is smaller than this bridge.  This density accounts for my
ability to sense them.  Normally, Vulcans require a close proximity and heavy
concentration before they can pick up the thoughts of others.

Picard:  Worf told you of Commander Troi, yes?

T'Selar:  Yes.

Picard:  Any ideas?

T'Selar:  I suspect the betazoid is lost.

Picard:  Lost?

T'Selar:  Lost in the conflicting emotions of so many minds.

Riker:  Well, that lays the demon theory to rest, at least.

Picard:  It would appear to.

Worf:  Security reports a disturbance, Captain.  In Ensign Crusher's quarters.

Picard:  What kind of disturbance?

Worf:  Well, sir, it appears to have been a nightmare.

Riker:  He alerted security over a nightmare.

Data:  Given what we know, there may be more to it than simply a bad dream,
Captain.

Picard:  Quite right, Data.  Ask Ensign Crusher to come to the bridge as soon
as possible.

[Wesley's quarters.  He sits on the edge of the bed.  Harkonnen appears again]

Harkonnen:  And did we have fun explaining ourselves to the Captain?

Wesley:  I am not asleep.  And yet, I can see you.

Harkonnen:  Oh, we are perceptive.

Wesley:  Are you responsible for what has happened to Commander Troi?

Harkonnen:  Oh, excellent!  Truly excellent!  I shall have to raise my opinion
of your mental acuity.

Wesley:  Are you?

Harkonnen:  No, dear little boy.  But I could help her.

Wesley:  Oh, really?

Harkonnen:  Such a suspicious mind!  That's very good.  Very good, indeed.
Always alert.  Hmmm.  Very good.  I can help you too, Wesley.

Wesley:  Oh, really?

Harkonnen:  I can teach you things beyond the knowings of this primitive little
mud-puddle-universe of yours.  I can make you wise in the ways of power.  And,
perhaps more importantly, I can make you feel very, very good.

Wesley:  Don't touch me!

Harkonnen:  There, doesn't that feel good?  You know, Wesley, there's nothing
you can do about me.  I am not something you can shoot with your cute little
phaser gun.  But you know that, don't you?  Yes, you do my beautiful little
boy.  I can feel that you know it. You aren't such a foolish thing after all,
are you?

Wesley:  Can you really help Troi?

Harkonnen:  Ah, back to business.  Such a pity.  Yes, Wesley, I can.  Would
you like me to help her?

Wesley:  You should be able to feel that, too...

Harkonnen:  Ah, excellent, indeed.  You do remind me of another pretty lad, not
much older than you, if at all.  And he came to rule an empire spanning
galaxies.  What will you come to?  Hmmm?

Wesley:  I have no desire to rule anything.

Harkonnen:  No, no.  I guess you don't.  Well, then Wesley, I'll make you a
deal.  I'll help Commander Troi if you'll help me.

Wesley:  And how can I do that?

Harkonnen:  By relaxing.  There.  That's right.  No need to fight.  Yes.  And
in the morning - if you still think of it as morning on this silly little
mud-puddle-hoping space toy of yours - and in the morning, dear Commander Troi
will be all better.

Wesley:  I am not a child.

Harkonnen:  Oh, no.  No.  Of course not.  Relax.  Yes, that's right.  Lie back
and close your eyes.  Yes, off to sleep...



_________________________________________________________________________




Before I begin, I'd like to make a little request.  Could someone tell me the
name of the person who would be responsible for informing the Captain about
such things as arriving ships and people wanted to open communications.  It's
getting a little tiresome saying things like 'Com Officer:  Captain...'

Thanks.

[A corridor aboard the Enterprise.  Wesley walks quickly along it.  A tall
woman in a cowled robe appears beside him abruptly.]

Odrade:  Do not speak.

Wesley:  But...

Odrade:  No.  Do not speak.  Think.  I can hear your thoughts.  But do not
think yet.  Let us go someplace quiet.

Wesley:  Are you...

Odrade:  Do not speak.  Yes.  I, too, am in your mind.  At once, very similar
to, and yet in reality very different from, the Baron.

Wesley:  Baron?

Odrade:  Ah, much better.  Yes, walk along like that.  I can hear your
thoughts.  You see.  No one stares.  To them, you would appear to be talking to
the air.  Sensitive times to appear so.

Wesley:  Baron?

Odrade:  Yes.  The first Memory which appeared to you.  Baron Vladimir
Harkonnen.  A very dangerous man, indeed.  And I am a thousand times again
more dangerous.  But do not fear.

Wesley:  Who are you?

Odrade:  Odrade Atreides.  Mother-Superior of the Bene Gesserit.  Former
Mother Superior.  Then again, current as well.  After a fashion.

Wesley:  I don't understand.  Any of this.

Odrade:  You would be lying to say otherwise.  But I shall explain.  It was
already your intent to go someplace isolated, yes?

Wesley:  Ah-huh.  I go there a lot when I want to be by myself.  But it doesn't
seem I can be by myself anymore.  Even when I am.

Odrade:  Precious child!  How true.  But not true.  I shall explain.  There is
much I must teach you.  Much that must happen.  Much that must be made to
happen.  But you are safe from the Baron, now.  It is another who must worry.

Wesley:  Commander Troi?

Odrade:  Yes.  You are very quick.  That is good.  I know why that must be.  So
much to explain...


[Enterprise bridge]

Worf:  Captain.  A ship approaches the Nadia.

Picard:  Main screen.

[The ship is smaller than the Nadia.  Shaped like an aerodynamic wedge or
arrow]

Riker:  I'm not familiar with that design.

Data:  I believe, Commander, that it is a Tev planet-bomber.

Riker:  Planet-bomber?

Data:  Yes.  Used by Cey-4 to carry out strikes against surface targets.  The
ship possesses extremely thick armor, made from a highly refined metal-ceramic
alloy.  It dives through the atmosophere at speeds great enough to create a
trail of plasma.  It then releases a warhead with extreme precision, and




----------