This story takes
place in the year 2364, during the TNG 1st Season episode, “The Naked Now.”
From
a letter by Ensign Lin Fau Chang, serving aboard the USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D, to Michael Drake…
Greetings,
young student,
You’ll never
believe what happened to me recently. We
ran into some unusual spirits; not really positive ones to be certain. I’ll have to start off on how this occurrence
took place, as we journeyed to rendezvous with a fellow starship, one of the
old Oberth-class science vessels. It didn’t take too long to figure out
something was out of place with the crew of that ship, as we shockingly
learned. It seemed like history
repeating itself here…
Aboard U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701-D
Security
Officer’s personal log, stardate 41209.2: Ensign Lin Fau
Chang, recording;
We
are currently investigating the unusual deaths of the crew of the science
vessel Tsiolkovsky. The ship was on a routine mission monitoring
the collapse of a red super giant into a white dwarf star. What was supposed to be a scientific expedition
instead turned into a tragic experience; all eighty crewmembers of the Tsiolkovsky started
showing signs of strange behavior. Then
an away team from our starship discovered all of them were dead—most of them
blown out from an open airlock, the rest frozen to death when environmental
systems were shut off. What in the name
of Buddha could have caused this?
It was almost
starting to sound familiar, as Lin Fau Chang thought
about it. Examining the daily security
reports, including the latest news concerning the investigation of the Tsiolkovsky,
Chang was trying to put it all together.
So far no imminent danger to the crew after the away team returned to
the ship. Doctor Beverly Crusher had
checked and had them medically cleared.
Yet why
does this sound so familiar? Chang
thought. The Asian officer was trying to
think back to an incident that a family friend, a retired Japanese Starfleet
officer, had told him he experienced a century ago.
“What do we got,
Chang?” Lieutenant Natasha Yar, the blonde, athletic security chief, who escaped the
extreme perils of the failed colony of Turkana IV, asked.
“All
security procedures in-place, Lieutenant,” Chang reported. He handed her the datapad. “Still trying to evaluate what caused the
deaths of the Tsiolkovsky’s
crew as you ordered me to investigate.”
“Any
theory you can come up with, Ensign?”
“It
somehow sounds a little familiar.” Both
officers walked down the corridor, Yar looking at the
datapad as she listened to her subordinate. “Okay.
The away team reports all crew have died. The bridge officer is acting erratically
before opening the hatch. In the crew
quarters, another group frozen to death; half of them naked, the other half
fully clothed, and all of them are totally oblivious to everything going on around
them.”
“And you think,” Lieutenant Yar said as she read Chang’s report, “this is related to an
incident that occurred a century ago?”
“That’s my
theory. I’m trying to remember exactly
what occurred back then; I don’t want to jump to conclusions as of yet.”
“Keep working,
Ensign.” Yar
began to pause a little when she started to hand the datapad
to Chang. She started to feel some kind
of numbing, tingling sensation. At the
same time, she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, as if she were
warm.”
“You alright, Lieutenant?”
“I’m okay,
Lin. Just been feeling a bit hot
lately…Must’ve been the stress from dealing with the investigation. Somehow it’s been affecting Mr. LaForge in some way; he complaining about wanting to see?”
“That’s a
little unusual.” Chang shook his head a
bit. “He didn’t have anything to drink,
did he?”
“Geordi?” Yar
chuckled a bit; then returned to her serious face. “He’s been like that since
returning to the ship. Dr. Crusher is
with him right now.” Lieutenant Yar handed the pad back to Chang. Unknown to either officer, some of Yar’s perspiration touched Chang’s fingers as his security
chief handed the datapad to him. “Listen.
Why don’t you take a break for now?
If anything comes up in our investigation, we’ll let you know.”
“I
appreciate it, Lieutenant,” Chang said as he started to walk away; then turned
again over his shoulder. “Hey, Lieutenant!” Yar looked back at Chang, who asked, “Sparring at 1900?”
“…Always.”
“See ya there.”
Both
security officers departed in opposite directions. Lin Fau Chang was
one of Lieutenant Yar’s sparring partners; both
experts in several martial arts styles.
They were adding one fighting style into their personal arsenals: Klingon mok’bara (taught by
Lieutenant J.G. Worf)—which according to Ensign
Chang, looked somewhat similar to Chinese kung fu and tai chi.
There’s
something familiar about all this, Lin Fau Chang thought,
trying to reflect back to Lieutenant Yar’s
words. Yet in a moment, he started to
forget. Instead he started to feel
something itching on his right hand. He
rubbed it on the side of his thigh, stopping the itching for a moment as the
ensign continued down the corridor.
Star Trek: The Starfleet Chronicles
“Not Again!” By David Kingsbury
Based upon the
teleplay for “The Naked Now” By John D.F. Black and J. Michael Bingham
Some hours
later, Chang continued to experience the ongoing tingling sensation along with
unusual perspiration, unusual in that it was not being caused by any strenuous
activity. Wondering if he was coming
down with something, despite his efforts to keep himself healthy by his use of martial
arts and the concept of “chi”, Chang decided to check himself into
sickbay.
The doors
slid open as Chang walked in. Dr.
Crusher was in the middle of examining Lieutenant Geordi LaForge, whom Natasha Yar had escorted
to sickbay after he expressed unusual desires to have normal sight. Not too long before, Captain Picard and the
bridge officers had looked in the
“What can
I do for you, Ensign?” Crusher
asked.
“I don’t
know, Doc.” Chang replied. “I was busy
conducting my investigation when I started to feel some kind of…” Dr. Crusher noticed him pause when he rubbed
his hand on his pant leg. “…Feeling.” The Asian
man paused as if suddenly distracted. “You
know what?” Chang suddenly changed the subject.
He walked up to the doctor, lowering his tone of voice deeply. “On second thought, why don’t you come down
to the gym with me?”
“Right now?” Crusher
was a bit surprised at his sudden change of mood.
“Why not? Maybe a
little kung fu sparring will take the edge off.”
“You know
I’d love to, Lin,” Crusher said, almost accepting the offer, “but I have to
figure out the results of these tests I’m conducting here, to develop a
cure.” She turned away from him to
examine the readouts from her medical tricorder.
“Suit yourself,” Chang said with a smirk. Then just as he started to move past her, the
security officer gave a slight slap on the chief medical officer’s behind.
“Hey!” she quickly turned, only to notice
the Chinese officer thrust out his hand and make a hissing sound as the sickbay
doors opened and he stepped out into the corridor. Noticing something wrong with the young man,
Crusher tapped onto her combadge. “Sickbay to security.”
“Security here.”
“Find
Ensign Chang and bring him back to sickbay immediately!”
“Understood!”
* * *
It seemed,
my young student, that the variant of the Psi 2000
virus—the virus that had affected the crew of the Constitution class Enterprise
under Captain James T. Kirk—was responsible for the deaths of the Tsiolkovsky crew, and was now infecting the crew of the Enterprise-D. Lt.(JG) Geordi LaForge was the first to
be afflicted with it; later Lt. Yar and several others—including
myself, Ensign Lin Fau Chang. And like those afflicted a century earlier, they
would start showing very different personalities.
The virus
was affecting the rest of Chang’s system as he reached deck eight. He had removed his combadge
somewhere along the way, not caring where he left it. It was probably discovered by the security
team Dr. Crusher had ordered to find him.
Chang walked down the corridor and halted in front of a set of doors,
looking at the sign on one side:
08/3601 CAPTAIN JEAN-LUC PICARD, COMMANDING OFFICER
Chang
looked each way down the corridor, then back at the doors.
“Computer. Location of Captain Picard?”
The
computer answered, “Captain Picard is on the bridge.”
Coast
clear, he thought. No
one in the quarters. Chang pretty
much guessed that the stateroom was locked.
So he decided to try what any security officer would do in an emergency
situation.
“Computer,
override and unlock the doors to quarters 08/3601, security emergency!”
The
security system acknowledged, and the door opened. Chang stepped into the darkened room, remembering
one time visiting his commanding officer there while presenting a security
report to him. He looked over toward the
shelves where some of Picard’s possessions were displayed. There he found what he was looking for.
It was a
French rapier, the one Jean Luc used for fencing practice in the
gymnasium. He admired its elegant pommel
and handle, the thin blade with the sharp point. The Chinese officer smiled as he gazed upon
the European dueling sword, then picked it up.
* * *
“
But it
wasn’t the stereotypical version with the musketeer outfit and baldric. Being half naked with the exception of his
pants and Starfleet boots, Chang was imitating the old friend of his family—Hikaru Sulu. Lin Fau Chang was going to reenact the past Starfleet officer’s
part after contracting the virus. After examining
the rapier with his fingers—even receiving a painful poke on his thumb—the
Chinese security officer looked over from behind a corner as two crewmembers walked
toward him, one of them the Irish Chief Miles O’Brien. Without hesitation, Chang leaped into the
corridor, pointing his sword in front of them.
The two crewmen jumped back, startled.
“Stand…!” Chang commanded them, speaking in his deep
imitative voice. “No farther!”
“Ensign
Chang, what are you doing?” O’Brien demanded, cautiously and slowly retreating
backward, avoiding the bare-chested, sword wielding security officer, the other
crewman next to O’Brien nervously following the chief’s movements. “Why don’t you just give me the sword, Ensign?”
O’Brien asked as he reached cautiously toward Chang. But instead Lin laughed; then echoed another
unusual saying.
“No escape
for you. You either leave this bois
bloodied…or with my blood on your swords!”
“Chief?” the other crewmember wondered what he was talking about.
“You
better get ready to run. I think I
remember reading about an incident like this…”
O’Brien was
cut off when Lin Fau Chang charged with his sword at
them with a fleche’ move a few times, sending the two men running. Chang stopped when the men turned tail, and
laughed. He gleefully headed to the turbolift. Before
the doors swished shut, he looked out, and yelled at the direction that O’Brien
and the other crewman fled in.
“Cowards!” Chang shouted, imitating Sulu’s
voice again.
* * *
“Reporting as ordered, sir!”
Captain
Picard turned his attention, as he sat in his command chair, from observing the
upcoming full collapse of the star on the viewscreen
to a woman wearing a gold uniform, the ship’s Chief Engineer, Lieutenant
Commander Sarah MacDougal.
“What?”
the captain questioned.
“You
ordered me to report to the bridge, sir,” MacDougal clarified.
“I did no
such thing,” Picard corrected her. “I
need you down in the engine room, just in case we need to move out of here.”
MacDougal was
speechless. She had believed that her
commanding officer had called her to report to the bridge. Now nothing was making any sense.
“Attention,
all decks, all divisions,” said Picard’s voice over the shipwide
intercom. MacDougal suddenly knew how
she was ordered to the bridge and Captain Picard was shocked to hear his own
voice coming through the intercom.
“…Effective
immediately, I have handed over control of this vessel to Acting-Captain Wesley
Crusher.”
“Acting
captain?!” Jean-Luc rose out of his seat
in response to this false order. His
first officer, Commander William T. Riker, noted from his captain’s displeased
reaction; remembering his own first experience with the boy.
“Thank
you, Captain Picard,” Wesley Crusher’s voice replied through the intercom. Picard recognized the annoying sound of his
chief medical officer’s son’s voice.
“Thank you… And with that brave new order, dawns a new day for the
Captain
Picard stood up from his chair, and pointed his direction near the turbolift, with Riker and MacDougal behind him.
“I want
that boy out of engineering now!”
“Understood,”
Riker grumbled. They were about to enter
the turbolift as the doors slid open, then
immediately halted and quickly shuffled back.
“
Lin Fau Chang held his sword pointing toward Riker and
MacDougal, the Chinese officer’s eyes focusing on Picard.
“Not again,”
Picard said, having recognized Chang’s imitation from reading the old
Riker started
to warn Chang, “Ensign, put that…” He
moved his hand back so it didn’t contact the blade’s point that Chang attempted
to thrust him with, “…Put that damn thing away!”
The first
officer’s words were not getting through to him. Worf and Data reacted,
leaving their bridge stations and attempting to apprehend the infected
crewmember.
“For honor…
Queen… and France!”
Chang swung the rapier around, causing Riker to duck from the
blade. Worf
and Data readied themselves. Chang swung
the sword back and forth, as the three officers tried to avoid getting
slashed.
“Mr.
Chang!” Chang turned to face Commander
MacDougal. His eyes began to widen, as
he gave a sort of romantic sigh.
MacDougal grinned a little after seeing his expression. “Mr. Chang, give me that, please.”
She tried
to convince him to turn over the rapier, but instead the security officer
grabbed her waist and held her at his side.
“I’ll protect you!”
“Let me
go!” MacDougal exclaimed as she tried to push him away. Picard stepped in, threatened by his own
rapier that Chang had stolen. The
captain was still being referred to as the historical religious figure turned
villain, Richelieu. Quickly MacDougal
broke free, distracting him. Picard then
grabbed Chang’s arm, the one that was holding the weapon, as Data grabbed the
other. Chang tried to resist, only to be
knocked out by Worf’s open-handed palm strike. Picard and Data set Chang on the floor, the
captain kicking the rapier away from Chang’s hand. Then Riker signaled two crewmembers at nearby
stations.
“Take our own
Mister Sulu to sickbay.” As the
crewmembers obeyed the first officer, picking up the unconscious security
officer, they entered the turbolift. Picard looked over to his fencing rapier.
“Put that
in my ready room, Number One.”
Riker obeyed,
taking the sword into the captain’s ready room and returning to the bridge
where Picard turned his attention to another matter that needed to be dealt
with.
“Number
One, MacDougal, get that boy out of engineering!”
Riker and
MacDougal headed into the turbolift and on to main engineering,
where they would try to wrestle control away from the kid-genius. Picard feared, as he remembered his review of
the old
* * *
…It turned
out that this virus had a variation, a little different from the one that
affected Kirk’s crew a century ago. But
as we were facing impending doom, when a chunk of the star began heading toward
us, Dr. Crusher managed to develop a counter-agent that took care of the virus. Mr. Data, trying to put back the isolinear chips that had been scambled
in the engineering controls, managed to succeed and enabled the ship to go into
warp, allowing us to escape from the star’s remnants before its collision. As for me, my delusions of being D’Artagnan/Sulu quickly ended.
I’m hoping
that our next mission is without incident, but I won’t count on it. As I have said to you many times, when you
join Starfleet, expect the risks. I’ll
talk to you soon, Michael.
Sincerely, Sifu
The End
Return to 2369.
Return to Stories Archive.