Star Trek: 8.
Movements of the Unseen Hand
by Charles Hackney
I am an angel. My name is Vriaiel, which means "shining blade" in the Divine Tongue, and I am a guardian. You Believers all have them. Guardian angels are personal bodyguards and assistants provided by God for your benefit. Unlike Thornn, my r�sum� does not contain any celebrities; just humble Christians doing their best to live godly lives under trying circumstances. I love my job, but the past few centuries had been a bit boring. Assigned to the Human we have been following, Arthur David, it was I who kept Arthur alive long enough to be put into cryogenic stasis in the dawn of the twenty-first century. It was I who had guided the rogue satellite along its path through the void to the place where it was found. Believe it or not, it was also I who subtly influenced the flight path of the Ferengi scout craft so that he would be found.
It was I who gave Fajo the notion that he should have the shard of metal removed from Arthur's head. That had been done right under Thornn's nose. Demons, being evil, have corrupted themselves, and this is reflected in their lessened sensitivity, so I was able to exert my covert influence without being noticed (It was not currently in my orders to instigate an open conflict with Thornn). Even occurrences such as being sold into slavery are a part of God's Plan. Just ask Joseph.
It had been boring for a while, as I said, when the satellite was floating in space for three and a half centuries. Unlike God, who exists independent of the timeline, all His creations are bound to live in a linear progression through the eons until the Last Day (The only exceptions to that are the non-linear creatures God placed in the Bajoran wormhole. He has a special purpose for them, and for Bajor. You'll see.). Other angels occasionally dropped in to chat, and twice the Lord Himself had appeared to rejuvenate and encourage His beloved angel, so the boredom was manageable.
At this point, Arthur was napping in the brig, and I had no other immediate tasks. To fill the time, I mentally reviewed my instructions from On High concerning this case. Big things were in the works for this one.
Very big.
Arthur was awakened by the acute sensation that he was being watched. He lifted his eyelids to see a man of rugged appearance who moved with a frightening self-control approaching his cell. He rose to greet the newcomer, and found himself mightily intimidated by the man's eyes. They were cold flecks of steel in a face of stone. They presented the appearance of adamantine invulnerability, but right away Arthur knew better. No one exists in that kind of state unless the pain underneath the surface was extreme. The man reached the forcefield, and introduced himself: "Captain Stone; commander of this vessel. And you are?"
"Arthur William David; former slave, current brig dweller."
"It was necessary." No apology. Arthur could respect that. "Fortunately, Ambassador Ekkabo verified your story, and provided us with a mystery. You claim to be from the past?"
"The very beginning of the twenty-first century, yes."
"How is this possible?"
Arthur laid out what little he knew about his relegation to frigidity, and his subsequent resurrection and life as a twenty-fourth century gladiator. Stone listened in evaluatory silence, not once giving any indication that the conversation was being scanned and analyzed for any evidence of lying on Arthur's part.
Finally, Stone spoke. "All right. You'll be released from the brig and allowed limited access to the ship. Ensign N'Rawll, our navigator, is about to go on-shift. I'm going to temporarily assign him to you to handle your orientation to the ship. Afterwards, I expect you to maintain a low profile until we arrive at our destination, which should be in about a week." Not one for unnecessary conversation, Stone turned and left.
Arthur settled down and waited for N'Rawll. He didn't have long to wait. After only fifteen minutes a slender Caitian male, with leonine features and a flowing mane of dark golden hair, entered the brig and glided with feline grace to Arthur's cell. The felinoid alien spoke with a soft, purring brogue: "Mr. David?"
"Yup."
"Ensign N'Rawll. I'll be showing you around. Computer, deactivate forcefield." The field of energy disappeared with an electronic sizzle, and Arthur stepped out into relative freedom.
N'Rawll, who turned out to be quite a likeable fellow, gave Arthur a truncated tour of the Juggernaut, avoiding all restricted areas, which were many. While showing Arthur the ship, he also filled in missing information concerning Earth and the Federation.
"Most Starfleet vessels serve the dual purpose of defense and scientific exploration, and Juggernaut is no exception," N'Rawll was saying as they entered the observation deck. "The difference between this and most ships, aside from the size, is the fact that Juggernaut is designed to serve as more of a mobile command base than a true starship. You see, recently a most unique phenomenon was discovered near the planet Bajor. Are you familiar with the concept of a wormhole?"
"In some of the science fiction books I used to read, a wormhole is kind of a hole in space that lets you go from one point to another without actually travelling through the space in between."
"Pretty close. Well, wormholes are, as a rule, unstable things, shifting from place to place unpredictably. The Bajoran wormhole, however, is stable at both ends, opening up a passage to the Gamma quadrant of the galaxy, an area which would usually take us decades of high-warp travel to reach. Well, Starfleet is trying to explore the Gamma Quadrant, but it seems to be controlled by a mysterious organization calling itself the Dominion. We have attempted peaceful negotiations with the Dominion, but they seem to be very hostile, attacking us with their Jem'Hadar soldiers if we venture into their territory. What we need is information if we are to determine what kind of people this Dominion is composed of, and how strong they are.
That's where Juggernaut comes in. A few years back, we were attacked by an advanced cybernetic race called the Borg, and we only barely survived to beat them back. I myself lost many good friends at the battle of Wolf 359." N'Rawll became quiet for a moment in memorial. He continued. "This vessel incorporates most of the technology we scavenged from the destroyed Borg cube. She was intended, along with some other new ships, to battle the Borg menace, but now they are to be used in our dealings with the Dominion. Juggernaut is a slow-moving vessel, designed for power over mobility. She incorporates a Borg tractor beam, Borg cutting beam, Borg adaptation protocols in the defense systems, triple shielding, ten phaser banks, five thousand photon torpedoes and one thousand quantum torpedoes. The Borg were always able to override our comm systems and deliver their ultimatums directly into other ships, and we have incorporated that technology also. There are two subsidiary Intrepid-class ships, Manticore and Gryphon, docked in the Juggernaut's undercarriage for exploratory and combative missions, and twenty-four one-person fighters, including four of the new automated arrowhead-class fighters. This vessel represents the ultimate in Starfleet technology and military power."
Arthur couldn't help himself. With a barely-restrained grin, he said in a somber, sepulchral voice "Don't be too proud of this technological terror you've created, Admiral. The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force."
"What?"
"Old movie reference. Never mind."
"Anyway, due to the massive armaments and technologies on board, we only have a crew of three hundred, which is quite small for a ship of this size. One hundred of them are permanent crew of the two Intrepid ships, and the remainder crew this ship and the fighters. In fact, two of the fighter pilots are the sons of Lt. Varg, our Chief of Security, whom I think you've met."
"The Tellarite?"
"Yes. I must say, for someone who missed the past three and a half centuries, you seem to be quite comfortable around non-Humans."
"Well, I admit I didn't handle it at all well when I was first resurrected. But I came in contact with many different races in the Arena, and I got used to it. In fact, I once fought a Caitian there. She was incredible. Agility like nothing I've ever seen, and her claws were like razors! It was the closest I'd ever come to losing, and it took me weeks of regeneration to get over the wounds."
N'Rawll didn't know how to respond. It was obvious that Arthur was rendering a compliment, but the idea of pit fighting was abhorrent to most Federation sensibilities, and he was quite sure that if a Caitian was fighting in an arena like that, she was either a slave or the worst form of low-life, probably the former. He settled for a grunt of acknowledgement.
Arthur knew he had somehow offended N'Rawll, but didn't know what to say to make it better. He wasn't even sure exactly which part of the story was considered offensive: that he fought a female, that he fought a Caitan, that he fought at all, that she fought at all; perhaps it was rude to describe a lady's claws in polite society. He let the matter drop, as N'Rawll seemed disinclined to discuss it. "So," he asked, breaking the awkward silence, "where does somebody get food in the twenty-fourth century?"
"Hungry?"
"Yup. They didn't feed me in that cell."
"There was a replicator in there, wasn't there?"
"A what?"
"A rep� oh, you don't know what that is. It's a device that synthesizes food, clothing, almost any item you could want, from energy patterns. The replicators in the brig are obviously designed to replicate only certain benign items, like food, but you had access to a food source the whole time you were there. Come on, I'll take you to ten-forward." The pair left the observation deck and headed to the very foremost section of the ship, where the ship's main recreation and socialization area was located. The form and function of each ship's ten-forward is unique to every ship. Some designed it as a kind of lounge or bar (the Enterprise even had its own bartender), some as a couch-equipped "living room" type of environment, one or two ships even designed theirs like a kind of night club, complete with dance floor. Juggernaut's was designed to be similar to a caf� or coffee house, with subdued, but not dim, lighting, soft jazz playing in the background, and comfortable chairs surrounding circular tables. Arthur could feel himself relaxing just entering the room. Excellent ambiance.
Arthur and N'Rawll sat at a table, which was equipped with a replicator. N'Rawll demonstrated the technique for ordering, and he had grilled salmon (nearly raw). Arthur thought for a moment, and ordered a cheeseburger and fires. The french fries took some explaining; apparently that particular cuisine was not popular in this century. For a beverage, N'Rawll ordered a raktajino.
"What's a raktajino?" inquired Arthur.
"Klingon coffee."
"Coffee!!?? I haven't had a decent coffee in months! Computer, give me a raktajino!" The beverage materialized, and Arthur immediately took a sip. His eyes widened considerably, and he exclaimed "Oh, YEAH!!"
"You like it?"
"Like it?! N'Rawll, if I had this stuff back in my time, I'd be richer than Midas!! YEAH, baby! WOOOOHOO!!" Arthur greedily downed the raktajino and ordered another one, while N'Rawll watched with barely restrained amusement. This one he drank more slowly, along with eating his burger. After the meal, Arthur leaned back in his chair and silently exulted in his new status as a free man, his new skill with the replicator, and his discovery of raktajino.
Sometimes it doesn't take much.
Arthur and N'Rawll continued the tour, concluding at the quest quarters assigned to Arthur. N'Rawll left with the enigmatic promise, "Tomorrow, I'll show you the holodeck."
The door closed, and Arthur turned to examine his new digs. The floor and ceiling met the walls with smooth curves and a flowing simplicity. The furnishings were also built along simple lines and curves, and well padded. In all, it seemed a very comfortable place, in stark contrast to his cell back on Tesla IV, which was more severe and rugged in design. He sat down on a couch, and almost immediately got up and found the replicator. He regarded the device with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity, and said to himself "Makes anything, huh?" He ordered a hot cocoa (and one other item which I shall mysteriously leave for later), and went over to the desk, which housed a computer. Sitting down, he said, "Computer, can you play music?"
"Specify composer, performer, or title," came the electronic reply.
"Something by Johnny Cash."
"There is no 'Johnny Cash' in current musical database."
"You've got to be kidding me. Does your database include any music from the twentieth century?"
"Negative. Twentieth-century music is located in the historical database."
"Fine. Access historical database and play something by Johnny Cash."
As the first twangy notes of "I Walk The Line" drifted into existence, Arthur smiled and relaxed. "Computer," he said, "show me a summary of history from the year 2000 to present, focussing on Earth and its role in the Federation." He sat back and began to read as information scrolled onto the screen.
