This story takes
place in the year 2368, during the TNG 5th Season episode “The Game”
On route from Risa
Marine’s
personal log, stardate 45207.5: Private First Class
Michael Drake, recording;
Well,
this R&R trip to Risa would've been a better
experience had a couple of my fellow grunts joined me, but a personal loss and
an illness conflicted with plans. Hector Gonzales just lost his grandfather due
to natural causes, so rest and relaxation have turned into comforting and tears
with his folks back home on Kessik IV. Jake
It
just wasn't the same since ending my relationship with Jean Hajar. (Wondering what she’s doing, now that the
Academy is on spring break?) I decided
to end my trip early and try and get transportation back to base. Couldn’t find a direct route back and the
routes I could exchange my ticket for would take longer than simply staying on Risa. Fortunately, a
Starfleet officer offered me a ride on his shuttle, telling me his starship
will be passing near to system where my base is located. So I have decided to
be friendly with Commander William T. Riker of the USS Enterprise.
“So I
wasn’t the only member of Starfleet who participated in the Klingon
Exchange Program?” Commander Riker
remarked as he reflected back to his experiences aboard the Klingon
ship Pagh. Private First Class Michael Drake, promoted
after his role during the Klingon Civil War, nodded
as he spoke about Tellarite Staff Sergeant Walc participating in the program, assigned to a Klingon Marine unit.
“Amazing,
isn’t it?” Drake remarked as he sat back in the comfortable passenger
chair. “What he learned from our allies
became instrumental in our training.
Most of us knew what we were getting ourselves into when we enlisted in
the Corps. Staff Sergeant Walc didn’t know how far it would take him.”
“So you’re
Lieutenant Chang’s kung fu student?” Riker asked, knowing of Drake’s teacher,
Lin Fau Chang from the officer’s time assigned to the
“Not too
bad, last I heard. I received a letter
from him not long ago. He’s still
stationed in Klingon territory.”
“I thought
he would still be there. I hope Worf gave him a refresher course on Klingon
customs and culture… And food choices…
before he transferred.”
“I think
your security chief instructed him well.”
“I
understand that you ran into each other during the civil war last year?”
“It was
almost like a high school reunion,” Drake recalled as he thought about the time
his teacher took him on a trip to Qo’noS, then began
to tell Riker about his experiences there.
Soon, though, it started to feel like it had been a long day for the
young Starfleet grunt. He yawned
slightly before starting to close his eyes just as Riker changed the subject of
their conversation.
“Private,
let me show you something I think will interest you. I got it while I was on Risa.” Riker headed to the back of the shuttle. When he returned, he was holding something
that looked vaguely like a headset with a pair of visual sights sticking off
the front of it. “I’d like you to try
this out. This is really good. At first, I started to get a funny feeling,
but after a few levels, it was—”
The
Starfleet officer looked to see the young Marine enlistee, clad in his
hunter-green duty uniform, lying against the cushion of the passenger seat, a
snoring noise coming from his vicinity.
PFC Michael Drake was already asleep, exhausted from his frustrating day
trying to get off of Risa.
“Oh,
well,” Riker said with a shrug, grinning toward the sleeping Drake. “Maybe when we get to the
“Marines!”
Space, the Final Frontier…
These are the adventures of the Starfleet
Marine Corps.
Our mission: To protect and defend the
constitution of the United Federation of Planets from all threats…
...Anytime, anywhere.
Star Trek:
The Proud Few
“Trust Me” By David Kingsbury
Captain’s
log, stardate 45208.2:
Commander
Riker has rejoined the
The
Dressed
for the occasion in a dark leather jacket, white button-down shirt, khaki
pants, a modified gas mask bag slung over his shoulder and hanging on his left
hip and a revolver holstered to his right hip, all topped off with a brown felt
fedora, Michael Drake had entered holodeck one. He had just acquired a small golden fertility
idol, setting off a series of booby traps in the process. As the musical score heightened, the
Latin-American holodeck character who had accompanied
the adventurer had already leaped over a bottomless abyss, landing on the other
side with the bullwhip that had been used to swing from one side to the other. Drake looked over at his holographic partner
with desperation as the temple around them continued to collapse.
“Throw me
the whip!”
“Throw me
the idol!” the guide responded. He
looked toward a stone door slowly sliding down closed behind him before looking
back at Drake. “No time to argue! You throw me the idol, I throw you the whip!”
Drake
grimaced before tossing the idol to the guide.
He then reached across the gaping hole.
“Now gimmie the whip!”
“Adios, Señor,” the now traitorous guide said with a smirk as he
dropped the whip, leaving Drake to his fate.
Drake assessed his situation and immediately leaped to the other side,
clinging to dear life onto the edge when he did not make it all the way across. Grabbing onto a vine, he tried to pull
himself up as the vine started slipping out of the dirt, the stone wall moving
ever closer to sealing the inner temple forever.
Suddenly,
an outstretched human hand extended toward him.
“Wait a
minute!” Drake exclaimed, not understanding.
“This doesn’t happen in the movie!
Computer, freeze program!”
The
computer bleeped to acknowledge Drake’s command and the program halted. The endless abyss remained, but the safety
protocols allowed the marine to stand on empty air. Drake lifted himself up from the hole to face
a teenage boy, approximately sixteen or seventeen Earth years old. He was wearing a black leather jacket.
“I’m sorra. I do
apologize,” he said. “I didn’t mean to
barge in. I was planning to run a holodeck program before my shift started. Thought that my co-worker
Keith was in here. He happens to
have a habit of leaving the holodeck running
unattended.”
“No need
to apologize. Got
completely lost in the story.”
Drake brushed off his jacket to shake the dirt from it. “You have a southern North American
accent. Where you
originally from?”
“Deneva Colony; but my folks originally hail from
“What’s
your name?”
“Judd. Judd Lefler.”
“Michael
Drake, Private First Class, Starfleet Marine Corps,” Drake said, offering his
hand to the newcomer.
“Marine? I knew that we got in science teams for this
upcoming project, but they didn’t say we were getting a combat platoon
onboard.”
“Just
taking advantage of some transport back from R&R on Risa,”
Drake explained. “Are your parents
serving aboard the
“No,
they’re back on the colony. I’m here
because my cousin, who’s one of the ship’s engineers, helped me get a civilian
job onboard, over in Ten Forward.” Judd Lefler looked around, as if looking for a clock on the wall
of the ancient temple. “Which reminds me, I gotta get going. How does this part of the program finish?”
“Follow
me.” Drake turned toward the temple
entrance and both he and Judd ducked under the sealing door and into the
passage beyond. “Computer, resume
program!”
The wall
closed behind them with a thud. Drake
looked over at the leather jacket that the boy was wearing, which was the type
normally used while riding a conveyance called a motorcycle during the 20th
century. Drake guessed that Judd Lefler was wearing the right outfit and appearance…just a
few adventures too early. No matter,
Drake thought.
“You don’t
mind me asking, sir,” Judd said, “but you know there’s a dead person with
spikes sticking from behind him?”
“I almost
forgot about Satipo.
But it’s not him you gotta worry about…” Drake picked up the small idol the holo-character had dropped upon his ‘death,’ then looked
upward behind himself.
“It’s that!”
The sound
of additional debris began to echo, then became more immense as both young men
saw a large globe shaped boulder rolling toward them.
“Oh,
boy…!” Judd mumbled as both men began to run.
* *
*
It was a
typical afternoon at the Ten Forward lounge.
Everyone inside seemed at ease.
It was a place that most of the crew went to relax either right before
or right after their normal shift.
Periodically,
everyone sitting at the tables within the lounge, even the servers with their
trays of drinks and snacks from the replicators,
would pause and look out the forward facing windows, staring at the stars ahead
and beyond. For most of them, the
Phoenix Cluster was something they were told was a sight to see.
And it was
a typical day for Judd Lefler. Recommended by his cousin, Ensign Robin Lefler—a recent Academy graduate,
now an engineer aboard the
Judd then
headed over to where Michael Drake sat.
The nineteen year old marine wore different attire then when Judd had
first met him, a dark Chinese kung fu outfit and green outer vest.
“What
character are you this time now?” the Southern-sounding colonist inquired about
Drake’s clothing changes.
“Actually
this happens to be my casual active wear.
Just so happens to be that I practice the art of kung fu. My teacher, also known as my ‘sifu,’ used to be a security officer aboard this ship.”
“No
kidding?” Judd set down the chocolate
sundae that Troi had passed on. Then he looked again at Drake’s new
appearance. “You somehow don’t sound
like the typical Starfleet Marine that I’ve seen before.”
“You
should see the rest of my platoon. They,
too, aren’t your average grunt while off-duty.”
Both young men laughed at the comment. Then Drake looked over at the tempting
dessert, which had already begun to melt.
“Somebody not like chocolate, Judd?”
“Ya’ know,” Lefler shook his
head. “I just don’t get it. The ship’s councilor is usually in a bad mood
until she gets one a these. Today she
says she doesn’t want it. Really weird.”
“I
see.” Drake could understand his new
friend’s concern about his one customer.
But as the Starfleet Marine looked around, he noticed something else was
unusual. “Have you noticed something
strange going on with everyone lately?”
Judd also
looked around, taking note of all the other patrons
with the same device on their heads that Counselor Troi
was wearing.
“Yeah. What’s up with
Ten Forward?”
The two
men looked at everyone, who were apparently
preoccupied with the device. Drake said,
“From what everyone else has been chattin’ about,
it’s some kind of game…something Commander Riker brought back with us from Risa.”
“Did you
get to try it yet?” Judd asked.
“No, not yet. Did
you?”
“Naw. I ain’t got the
time.”
Drake
looked at two nearby crewmembers using the game. Their sense of perception looked rather off,
as if hooked on something like drugs.
“Well,
they look like they seem to be enjoying it.
Almost too much.” He looked at several others, and noticed the
same condition. One civilian looked
totally oblivious to everything around.
Another was giggling. “Everyone!”
Judd
looked across the room and noted two people at a far table who were also
looking around with amazed expressions on their faces.
“Maybe not
everyone,” he said.
Drake
looked where Judd was gazing. At the far
table sat a young woman and young man.
Both of them had Starfleet combadges on their
civilian clothes.
“The girl
in pink happens to be my cousin, Robin.”
“That’s
your cousin? The
engineer?”
“Yeah. The guy she’s
with is some Academy cadet with family aboard the ship visiting on spring
break…”
Drake was
finally able to get a clear view of the guy Ensign Robin Lefler
was sitting across from.
“Wesley
Crusher!”
“You know
him?” Judd asked with surprise.
“We were
friends growing up. His mother and my
mother went to Starfleet Medical together.”
“You don’t
say.”
“Tell you
about it in a little bit.” Drake noticed
Wesley and Robin getting up and heading toward the doors. “Right now, let’s see if we can catch up and
say hello to them.”
Judd
nodded. As the two stood up, he signaled
another server to cover for him.
A moment
later, both Drake and Judd Lefler were heading down
the corridor of the next deck, hoping to catch up with the young couple they
had seen in the lounge. Passing them
along the way were a number of other crew members, all
of them with the game attached to their heads.
“Is there
something in this picture that doesn’t look right?” Drake wondered.
“What is
with everyone?” Judd asked. “Everyone
seems preoccupied with this so-called game.”
“I prefer
Mortal Kombat if I have the chance,” Drake
sarcastically commented, thinking of the violent 20th century
martial arts video game. “But I think
Johnny Cage and Sub Zero have better things to do than these people!”
Drake was
right about one thing; how do you maintain the most advanced starship in the
fleet if the crew is acting rather… ‘under the
influence?’ This was worse than 17th
and 18th century pirates drunk on rum whenever they wanted to be,
even when a European warship was about to blow them to splinters. I wouldn’t want to be in those buccaneers’
boots right now, Drake thought.
“Here we
are,” Judd said as he took a look at their present location. “Med Lab?”
“Are you
kidding me?” Drake looked over at the
location indicator. “Unless
there’s really something going on.”
The two
men went in.
As the
doors closed behind them, Judd started walking down the hallway until Drake
halted his movement. “Wait!”
Judd
looked over toward the corner of the room, where a Starfleet nurse was sitting
at her desk. She, like almost everyone
the men had encountered, was occupied with the game. In the reflection on a blank monitor, the
nurse appeared completely clueless.
Drake shook his head in disbelief.
Then the marine private turned his attention to the sound of voices in
the next room. Drake and Judd quietly
headed toward where they believed Robin and Wesley might be.
Both the
lads cautiously listened to the couple in the other room, both busy conducting
a study of one of the game headsets, hooked up to a neurological behavior
program.
“Let’s see
what happens,” Robin Lefler’s voice quietly said.
As they
continued to do their research, Michael and Judd eavesdropped on Wesley and
Robin as they talked about how the game was played. According to the information they were
gathering, the player would be rewarded with stimulation to the pleasure center
of the brain as they completed each level, and as the game levels increased,
the brain started creating a psychotropic addition.
“Doesn’t
that area control higher reasoning?” Robin asked Wesley.
“That
would also make the player completely submissive, as the device activates the
reticular formation, increasing synaptic activity in the frontal lobe and
prefrontal cortex.”
“So now we
know,” Drake whispered to Judd, as the other teen nodded his head.
“No wonder
everyone likes it.”
“I better
go talk to the Captain,” the pair heard Wesley tell Robin as he left the
room. But as he approached the door and
it opened, the cadet paused.
“What
the…?”
Wesley
checked around the room, feeling like someone or something was nearby. But when he could not find anything out of
the ordinary and Robin started to head out of the room, she looked at the young
Crusher.
“I thought
you were going to talk to the captain?” she asked.
“I will,
but I thought I saw heard something.”
Robin
looked around. “I don’t see anything,”
she said.
“Maybe it
was just my imagination?” Crusher said as he took a deep breath and headed out
into the corridor. Robin paused, looking
around the room, then followed Wesley out. The two of them never noticed Drake and Judd
hiding in the nearby storage closet.
“The coast
is clear,” Judd said, looking around.
“But how will we find them now?”
“Well, he
won’t know it, but I’m monitoring Wesley’s movements,” Drake said, holding up a
small device. “I managed to place a
tracking device on him.”
“How’d you
do that, Mike?”
“A method
I picked up from my kung fu teacher.
I’ll explain later.”
“Can’t
tracking someone like that be considered illegal?”
“Somehow I
don’t think an entire crew acting abnormally needs to be defined by legal
guidelines.”
“I’m
forced to agree. But don’t you think we
should get security on this? After all,
that Crusher is just…”
“I don’t
think so, Judd,” Drake disagreed. “If
this mind-altering game is so widespread, the captain and his senior staff may
already be under the influence. No chance
getting security involved if they’re also affected.”
“What are
we going to do then?” Judd Lefler asked.
“We’ll go
ask the Operations Officer. He’s an
android. I don’t think this so-called
game would effect him…” Drake paused when Judd suddenly paused,
looking in to another room beyond the lab.
“What is it, Judd?”
“Michael,
I think you’d better take a look in that room.”
“Why?”
Drake asked as he turned in the direction Judd was pointing. There they discovered Lt Commander Data lying
lifeless on the examination bed. Moving
up beside him, Drake pulled out a tricorder and
scanned him.
“All of
his units are functional. But I don’t
know why he’s…,” Drake lifted the android’s arm up, then
let it go. It quickly flopped down. “…Non-responsive.”
“I can
hear someone coming, Private.”
“Quick!” Drake and Judd rushed back into the lab. Having turned off the lights, they went back
into hiding in the closet, where they remained undetected when Captain Jean-Luc
Picard, Dr. Beverly Crusher, Lt Commander Geordi La
Forge and Commander William Riker walked in.
Captain Picard turned to his senior staff.
“You’re
sure you’ve taken every step to deactivate him?” the captain inquired.
“The neuro-connectors to his brain have been severed,” Dr.
Crusher reported.
“He won’t
pose a problem for us,” Riker assured.
“Very good.” Picard
was satisfied with the steps his staff had taken. Not long ago, Picard had been concerned about
Data's condition. Now it looked like the
game was telling him otherwise.
All four
officers left the room. Hearing the
doors swish shut, Drake and Judd stepped out of storage closet.
“I guess
that really does answer my question,” Judd commented. So much for Data, Drake thought as he shook
his head.
“I can’t
do anything for him right now.” Too bad
my squadmate, Hiram Silverman, didn’t go with me to Risa, Drake thought to himself. He has more knowledge in cybernetics than
anyone I know.
Drake
moved into the lab and took hold of the game set that had been left
behind. “I’m gonna
go back to my quarters and do a little more research on this game,” he
announced.
“I thought
my cousin and her new guyfriend already found out
about it?” Judd commented.
“They
determined the effects of the game; but something else doesn’t sound right. Whoever Commander Riker got this from,
they’re working toward some other purpose…and it’s not just to spread
pleasure.”
“What do
you want me to do in the meantime?”
“Stick
with your cousin and Wesley. Keep an eye
on them.” Drake handed the game headset
to Judd. “You may wanna
carry this, just in case. But don’t
think about trying it.”
“Don’t worry.
My folks will disown me if I get drunk or experiment with something
illegal.”
* * *
Drake sat
in his guest quarters where he continued to do a more thorough investigation of
the strange device that had infiltrated the
He
remembered Riker mentioning during the trip to the
But Drake
was putting together a theory to fit the facts.
“What do
these militants plan on doing?” Drake asked himself. “They don’t have enough weapons powerful
enough to challenge their own government forces, no less a Federation
starship.” Drake had read about their
tactical status. “Though they’ve been
receiving aid from operatives, technically they are outgunned…” Drake also remembered reading reports about
alien operatives working as advisors and taking part in the guerilla
activities, then thought back to witnessing Riker’s
farewell to the alien woman at Risa’s transit
port. “Come to think of it, she didn’t
look Ktarian to me.
More like…Miradorn…”
…Of
course! Drake thought to himself as he
raised his right fist and hammered it down on the desktop. During recent encounters with the militants, Miradorn operatives had been encountered many times. But they too could not match the might of the
entire Federation either.
The
militants could not take over the Federation itself; their only goal was
seizing their homeworld. But if they gained control of most of
Starfleet with the game device, they must be supported by an outside power; a
power that intended to take over the Federation. I wish I knew who it was that’s working with
the militants, Drake thought to himself.
Drake
tapped on his combadge, saying, “Drake to Judd.”
“Yo!” quickly replied Judd Lefler.
“Still
keeping an eye on those two?”
“Yup. They had gone
back to sickbay earlier. Looks like they
mighta been trying to patch up Data. Then they returned to his quarters. His mom and the Klingon
security chief just checked in on them a little while ago. Nothing since those two left.”
“Hopefully
they’re doing fine,” Drake said as he pulled a nearby drawer open and removed a
Type II phaser pistol, checking the settings before
placing it down. Earlier, before
returning to his assigned guest quarters, the PFC had managed to break into a
weapons locker undetected.
“Whatever
Wesley and Robin are doing, I’m sure they have some sort of a plan already laid
out.”
“You sure,
boss?”
“I’m very
sure…I hope he knows what he’s doing.”
“Just make
sure to watch your back, Drake! That’s
one of the laws my cousin keeps coming up with.”
Drake
nodded to himself.
“I always
do. Drake, out.” He ended the communication, then looking out the window of his quarters noticed that the
ship had come to a full stop. PFC Drake
activated a small viewscreen on his desk, having
hacked into the ship’s communications network, and saw a beat-up Ktarian vessel approaching the
“Alright,
Wesley, I really hope you know what you’re doing, ‘cause
it looks like you’re gonna need my help here soon.”
PFC
Michael Drake headed over to the closet, taking his phaser
with him. He opened the door, sorting
out sets of outfits that were hanging inside.
Drake then took hold of the one he considered most appropriate. Starfleet Marine issued SOBs
(Surface Operation Blacks).
* * *
Judd
crawled through the jefferies tube, having just
informed Drake that Robin and Wesley had had to separate, Robin reporting to
engineering for her regular shift in her gold Starfleet uniform. As the younger Lefler
took one look to see how his cousin was doing, he noticed something
different. From what he had managed to
overhear, Robin had planned to initiate a program within the security tracking
systems in an effort to create a diversion if she were caught. But as Judd watched, Riker and Worf forced Robin to play the game. It seemed that the pair’s plan to retake the
ship and restore the crew has been discovered.
“Judd to Drake.”
“What’s
up?”
“They got
Robin. I couldn’t get to her. They’ve forced her…”
“Don’t
worry. You better ditch your
communicator and hide somewhere before they find you. I’ll find Wesley.”
“What
about you, Drake?”
“Don’t
worry about me. I’m a marine.”
“Semper Fi,” Judd said before
looking toward the opening of the jefferies tube,
where he saw Wesley appear and try to tell Robin his plan. “Hold on, Mike. Something’s happening over there.”
Judd
watched as his cousin began acting strangely in front of Cadet Crusher.
“Robin?” Crusher looked at her, his eyes widening when
he began to notice the change in her behavior.
She held out the game headset in her hand as she spoke.
“It’s your
turn… Play the game, Wesley.”
Crusher
started to run just as Commander Riker and Lieutenant Worf
gave chase.
“He’s on
the run!” Judd informed Drake.
“I’m on
it!” the marine assured.
* * *
Drake was
able to track Crusher down to the next deck, having hidden in a corner beneath
an archway. The cadet had managed to
evade the senior officers with a sight-to-sight transport beam, bypassing the
security codes. Drake, like Wesley, had
disposed of his combadge along the way. The marine had noticed a force field blocking
the cadet’s path. Taking out a Type I phaser, Crusher placed it on a
ledge near a wall. He set it on
automatic, which fired blasts repeatedly.
Nice one,
Drake silently complemented his friend.
At least that will create another diversion, which I assume is among his
list of plans.
A few
moments later, two armed security guards entered from a nearby turbolift. They were
obviously searching for Wesley, as the cadet ducked into the dark corner near
where the marine hid. The security
officers passed the corner, expecting to deal with a cadet firing phaser blasts to cut through the force field, finding
instead the weapon firing on automatic.
Wesley
leaned back, trying to sink deeper into the shadows. The security officers, having deactivated the
small phaser, passed near the same area. Once they were gone, Drake reached over and
clasped his hand over Wesley’s mouth. Wes
attempted to struggle before Drake hushed him.
“It’s
alright, Wes.”
“Who is
that?” Wes whispered before turning slowly and recognizing the familiar
face. “Mike? Mike Drake?
What are you…? How did you…?”
“It’s a
long story. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to
get to your friend earlier.”
“That’s
okay. I’ve got everything worked out
here,” Wesley said.
“Wonder if
you can use some assistance?”
“Are you
sure you wanna do this?”
“Trust
me.”
“Then
follow me,” Crusher said leading the way.
* * *
Riker and Worf activated the internal sensors on the engineering
monitor, with Ensign Lefler looking on. Their attention was turned away when two
engineering officers approached. They
had just apprehended a young intruder.
Riker and Worf walked over to the detainee, the first officer
recognizing the lounge waiter. Both
Riker and Worf assumed that he,
like Wesley Crusher, had not played the game.
“Alright,
Mr. Lefler,” Riker forcefully demanded. “Where is he?
Where’s Mr. Crusher?”
“I want to
talk to my lawyer,” Judd demanded.
Riker was
not impressed by Judd’s comment, though the kid only meant it in defiance. It appeared to the two officers that this
statement was all they were going to get from him.
“You’re gonna need one, kid,” Riker replied as he turned to the
engineering crewmembers. “Throw him in
the brig. Put the game on him and find
out what he knows.”
As the
crewmen hauled Judd away, the two officers returned to the station monitor,
with Robin Lefler adjusting the controls.
“Where the
hell is he?” Riker grumbled.
Worf took a breath, feeling rather frustrated in
pinpointing Crusher’s whereabouts.
“I’m
attempting to isolate him with thermal sensors.”
“Narrow
the scan fields. Go deck-by-deck if you
have to,” Riker suggested.
“Unfortunately
he knows our procedures. He will avoid
all corridors and public areas.” Worf noticed something on the ship’s display. “Commander, an unidentified heat source: Deck 7, Section 23, there.” The Klingon pointed
to the location.
“Let’s
go.” Riker headed out, followed by Worf and Ensign Robin Lefler.
The three
officers soon entered the location in question, a cramped area near the
crawlspaces. Entering through a small
door that slid open, it seemed to Worf that Wesley’s
evasive efforts would soon end. But to
all three officers surprise, they found a Starfleet
Marine instead, holding a tricorder, having just
worked up a bit of a sweat with some kind of martial exercise.
Drake took
note of Riker and Worf’s dumbfounded expressions.
“You!” the
first officer yelled at Drake. “All
right, marine, where is he?”
“Where’s
who? I’ve just been here working out.”
“Do not
play games with us, Private!” Worf growled as he
began to steam up. “Where is Cadet
Crusher?”
“Funny you
should put it that way. You know, for a
warrior under the control of a mind-altering device, you seem to get frustrated
pretty easily.”
Riker and Worf noted the pleased expression on the grunt’s face; like
Judd, they were not going to get an immediate answer from Drake either. That was when Robin Lefler
noticed the weapon attached to Drake’s hip.
“Sir, he’s
got a phaser!”
“You can
have it!” Drake said as he tossed the weapon to Robin and she caught it. Then the marine, noticing Worf’s
attempt to grab him, executed a side thrust kick into the Klingon’s
midsection, sending him back against the bulkhead. Drake next blocked a punch from Riker before
striking him with an elbow to the stomach and backfist
to the face. The marine then faced Lefler as she threatened him with the phaser
pistol.
“Fire
away!” Drake stared at the weapon. “It’s empty!”
Robin
looked at the phaser, and with an expression of
surprise, noted that it was uncharged.
She tossed the weapon away. As
she did, Worf recovered and threw an open-handed blow
at the unsuspecting marine, knocking him out.
Riker eventually stood up as well and looked over to where Drake was now
lying.
“Ensign,
take him to the brig. Put the game on
him.”
Robin went
to pick up the marine as Riker and Worf continued on
in their attempt to apprehend Wesley Crusher.
However, the petite Starfleet engineer was unable to lift the marine
warrior off the floor. Even though Drake
looked lean and slim, his muscular physique was too much for her.
“Commander?” Robin called out to her superior officer. “Lieutenant?”
Lefler hoped one of her superior officers might hear her,
but they were too far away already.
Besides, once they found Wesley, they intended to deal with him. Frustrated and having expended all her
efforts trying to carry the Starfleet Marine enlisted man out of the accessway, it seems that she would be there for quite a
while.
“Lefler to anyone on Deck 7, I need some help here!” Robin
groaned after tapping on her combadge to request
assistance. She then let go of the
nineteen year old man as she tried to catch her breath.
“Marines!”
* * *
Marine’s
log, stardate 45211.4: Private First Class Michael
Drake recording;
After
capturing me, Worf and Riker managed to catch Wesley
Crusher as well. However, we recaptured
the ship when the reactivated Lt Commander Data regained his positronic functions and initiated optical bursts which
counteracted the effects of the game and returned the crew to normal. The Ktarian vessel,
with its Miradorn advisor, has been captured by the
“I don’t
suppose I’m scheduled for a court-martial, for what happened on deck seven?”
PFC Drake asked Commander Riker and Lieutenant Worf,
as the three chatted in sickbay. Judd Lefler, flanked by his cousin Robin and Wesley Crusher, looked
on.
Riker said
to Drake, “I think we can overlook the incident.”
“Which
brings me to another question,” Wesley remarked. “How did you catch up to me and Robin, and
not get affected by the game?”
“Just
didn’t have an immediate interest, pretty much,” Drake began to answer. “It was sort of--according to my company
CO--illogical to get highly addicted to something, like it was a dangerous
drug.”
Robin then
entered the conversation.
“But how
did you keep tabs on us as we moved about, finding information about the game?”
“Easy. I placed a small tracking device on Wesley’s
boot.”
“You what?” Wes
inquired incredulously.
“A trick I
learned from my sifu.
Though I’m not a science expert. I was more into trying to find who was
actually behind all of this, which I think I’ve managed to do.” Drake referred to the captured Ktarian vessel.
“I thought
I saw a little of Lin Fau Chang within you, Michael,”
Beverly Crusher added.
Worf complimented his former subordinate’s disciple. “Mr. Chang chose well,” he agreed.
A few
moments later, Captain Picard entered sickbay.
Stepping over to PFC Drake, the Captain began to speak to him.
“Private
First Class Drake, I’ve been informed by Mister Crusher that your actions
during the short takeover of this vessel were significant in helping us regain
control. I will be informing your
commanding officer and forwarding a commendation for your service.”
“Thank
you, sir. But I think most of the credit
belongs to Cadet Crusher and Ensign Lefler, for
discovering the negative effects of that device. Judd and I only provided backup.”
“…Without
which we probably would not have been able to re-capture the ship,” Wesley
added.
“No doubt
about that,” Judd Lefler agreed.
“I also
thought you should know,” Picard said to Drake.
“We are en route to Starbase 82 to
turn over the Ktarians. Your marine platoon is assigned there, so you
should be able to join them quite soon.”
“Thank
you, sir.”
“I have
also read your report regarding your investigation concerning the Ktarians and their Miradorn
operatives. I’ll keep most of your
findings, as you’ve requested, extremely confidential until Starfleet confirms
them and deems it necessary to make them available.” Picard referred to the information that Drake
had passed on to him regarding his earlier mission involving the militants--and
a theory that someone other than the Miradorns may be
supporting them. Picard knew how
sensitive most of the information was.
The captain then said to Drake, “I’m surprised that you chose to simply
enlist over applying for an appointment to
“I’m glad
to have been of service, Captain.”
* * *
Elsewhere in the
Alpha Quadrant
The man
read the communiqué once more, his disgust growing.
DIRECTOR:
I MUST REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT THE OPERATION CONDUCTED BY
OUR MIRADORN AND KTARIAN CONTACTS HAS FAILED.
I WILL SEND YOU THE DETAILED REPORTS REGARDING WHY THE PLANNED TAKEOVER
OF STARFLEET HAS BEEN FOILED. IN THE
MEANTIME, MY POSITION ONBOARD THE
12 TULOD
“Game
over,” Enabran Tain
grumbled as he tossed the message padd with the
report from the field operative known by the designation ‘12 Tulod’ onto his desk.
The head of Cardassia’s dreaded secret
intelligence agency, the Obsidian Order, had known this plan would fail,
especially when attempted against the crew of the starship
The End
Return to 2369.
Return to Stories Archive.