STAR TREK
The Long Good-Bye
By: Derek Kestner
Based on Star Trek™
Science Officer Lieutenant
Commander Derek Kestner’s Log, Stardate: 51646.8. I have been assigned by Starfleet Command to
BeLarga II for a pre-First Contact mission.
Dr. Holmes did a good job in making me look like the natives of this
planet. For the past two and a-half
months I have been observing BeLargarians culture and beliefs. My mission is nearly over, and I am awaiting
transport back to the
Lieutenant Commander Derek Kestner
walked to streets of BeLarga’s capital city, Balan, headed toward the cloaked
base where he was stationed. He watched
as the BeLargarians went about their city doing their normal routine. He had to admit that their culture was
fascinating, like nothing he had ever seen.
They smiled at him as he passed, not knowing that he was a human.
As he turned a corner a young child
ran into him. He said, “I am sorry,
sir. I did not mean to run into you.”
He was glad that the universal
translator knew their language. He
answered, “That’s alright. No harm
done. Run along and play.”
The child bowed and said, “Thank
you, sir.” With that, the child ran down
the street.
Kestner smiled as the child ran from
him. They are also very nice, he
thought. His train of thought was
interrupted when his combadge beeped and a man on the other end said, “Winston
to Kestner.”
Kestner stepped out of the flow of
traffic he was in and tapped his combadge and said, “Kestner here, go ahead
Commander.”
Commander Nas Winston, the
commanding officer of the pre-First Contact mission, said, “Mr. Kestner, one
of our men has been hurt near you. We
need you to get to him before a medical team of BeLargarians find
him and find out that he is a human.”
“Where is he at?” Kestner asked.
There was a pause, then Winston said, “He’s six alleys up from your position
on your right. You must hurry, we are picking up a small group of BeLargarians
moving toward his position.”
Kestner nodded and said, “Aye, sir,
Kestner out.” Kestner stepped back out
into the middle of the street and picked up his pace as he counted the alleys
in his head. He counted the sixth alley
up on his right and was about to turn when her herd voices.
One of the men said, “Hey, look here
at this medscan. He’s not a
BeLargarian. He’s an imposter. Let us take him back to the medical center
where we can get information from him.”
Kestner looked on as the picked him
up and started to carry him away. He
tapped his combadge and said, “Kestner to Winston.”
“Winston here. What is it?” He asked.
“Sir, I didn’t get to him in
time. The BeLargarians are carrying him
off to the medical center. Shall I
follow?” Kestner asked.
“No, do not follow him, return to
base,” Winston ordered.
“Aye, sir. Kestner out.” With that, he turned like nothing happened
and continued to head for the cloaked base.
Kestner walked into the base and
walked toward the control room. He found
Commander Winston leaning over the shoulder of a young officer talking to
him. Everyone in the control room had
worried faces, worried about the man he couldn’t get. Winston looked up as he walked in and walked
over to him.
“There was nothing you could have
done. If you had gotten to him, both of
you could have been caught,” Winston said.
“Yes, sir,” Kestner said.
Winston sighed. “I guess the only thing I can do is go to the
BeLargarian government and apologize for all of this and ask for our man
back. It’s not going to be fun.”
Kestner felt sorry for him. He said, “I will agree with you, the will
probably be a little mad. Is there
anyway I can help?”
Winston shook his head, “No. He was under my command, it is my
responsibility. I must take the
blame. While I am gone, I’m gonna leave
you in charge, alright?”
“Yes, sir,” Kestner said.
“I’m going to run to Dr. Holmes so
he can make me look like the BeLargarians, that way I wont
scare them in getting to the Presidents office,” he said. “You have the base.” With those words spoken, he walked out of the
control room for sick bay.
For the next several hours, Kestner
stood and looked over the shoulders of many young officers, many he couldn’t
remember the names of. He was impressed
by them, they were young, but did their jobs well. He didn’t have to tell them much that they
didn’t already do it without him. One
day, he thought, they might explore the galaxy under a good captain on a
grand ship.
About three hours after he left,
Commander Winston returned still looking like a BeLargarian. As he began to remove his costume he said,
“Well, that didn’t go well.”
“What happened?” Kestner asked.
“The president wants all Starfleet
officers off of BeLarga II in three hours or he will put all of us under
arrest,” Winston replied. “Mr. Kestner,
it’s been good working with you, I hope to see you again sometime. Pack your things,
we’ll try to contact a ship to get you off of here.”
Kestner nodded and shook hands with
Winston. “Well, Commander, if you’re
ever near the
About fifteen minutes after he had
finished packing his combadge beeped. “Winston to Kestner.”
“Kestner here.”
“Mr. Kestner, a shuttlecraft is
waiting for you just outside the front entrance to take you to the
“Thank you, Commander. Kestner out.” Remorsefully, he grabbed his bags and began
his journey to the front door. In a way,
it was sad leaving this place, however, he would be
glad to see Lindsey and his friends again on the
“Let me get this straight. I have a viral infection that acts exactly
like the flu, but the only cure for it is on a Starbase halfway across the
Quadrant?”
Dr. Karl Hayter replied to the man
sitting on the diagnostic bed in sickbay, “Yes, Derek, but actually the cure is
on the planet the Starbase orbits.”
Kestner sighed, “How bad does it
get?”
Hayter recalled from the information
almost like Data. “You’re just starting
to feel the effects: runny nose, sore throat, coughing. In a day or two, you’ll develop a
temperature, and your body will become weak and sore. Now this is where it diverges from the flu:
we can’t seem to find anything that will make it stop. Poor Michael’s had it for two months now.
“The good new is, it’s not deadly or
anything, but it won’t go away. The only
thing that works as far as we can tell is a root from the chorg tree on
Churchill III. If the root is ground
into powder and ate, it drives away the virus as it travels through the
digestive system. It only takes about
twelve hours to recover after receiving the root, the recovery time is
remarkable.”
Kestner was stunned by this
news. He asked, “How many other people
have been infected?”
“On the
Kestner was puzzled and asked, “Why
wasn’t I informed about this?”
Hayter replied, shrugging, “Most of
it happened while you were restationed at BeLarga II.”
Kestner nodded. It had not been more than three hours since
he had returned from his pre-contact mission to that planet, where it’s inhabitance had only recently discovered warp drive,
and were currently preparing to launch their first deep-space craft. All instruments showed the probe would be
fitted with warp drive and aimed at Volshin space.
Starfleet didn’t need the Volshins
destroying another primitive race, so the Council voted to move up First
Contact with this species to stop them from launching the probe, eventually
saving the from destruction. The Council
determined that it didn’t violate the Prime Directive in that the result would
prevent the Galaxy from falling into war.
For whatever reason, the general public accepted the Councils decision;
no one wanted war with the Volshin Empire, but now, since they had been
discovered, who knew what the future held for them.
Hayter brought Kestner out of his
flashback by saying, “You should go back to your quarters, Derek. All you can do is let the virus run its
course; I can’t do anything more for you.
Ask the replicator for some pain killers if you need them.”
Kestner stood, saying, “Thanks, Doc,
I’ll keep in touch.” He then walked out
of Sickbay toward his quarters. When the
doors closed behind him he laid down on the bed. His throat was beginning to hurt and his nose
was running, and to hear the doctor tell it, it was going to get worse…
…It was worse. Two days after he had been to see Dr. Hayter
he started to ache. His temperature was
high. The doctor told him to get
painkillers if he needed them, but how can a person stand to get them? He lay under the covers both sweating and
chilling at the same time. He suddenly
felt bad for poor Michael who had spent two months like this. He was thinking about Michael when the
darkness of sleep over took him.
Light, dark,
awake, asleep, pain, more pain, loneliness, awake, sleep, darkness, light. For days it began to become a pattern, then it started to mix.
Then, Derek couldn’t tell one from another. When he opened his eyes, everything swirled,
when he closed them, he was alone with is pain.
The pain…the pain. He drifted in and out of sleep. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t eat, and he
thought he couldn’t sleep, but he didn’t know anymore. Everything was swirling. The pain!
It was becoming unbearable. The pain, the anguish. Would it end?
Would it cease? Where was
he? How did he get here? The light, the darkness, the pain! The pain!
He had horrible dreams of the past…but was he asleep? Everything was so confusing. Where was he?
How did he get here?
The pain! The pain!
He tried to stand, was took weak, fell onto the bed. He herd a chime far away, said, “Enter.” He then felt soft, cold hands on his sweating
face. He looked up and thought he was
dead because staring back at him was a beautiful angel. He said, “I must be dead and in heaven
because you must be an angel.”
She looked worried as she said, “No,
Derek, you’re not dead. It’s me,
Lindsey. I’ve come to take care of
you. We’re at the Starbase. It shouldn’t be long now before Captain
Bateson gets the anti-virogen.”
He looked back up at her. For some reason he felt he knew her, had to
warn her. “Leave here now, before you catch it also,” he pleaded.
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t leave you for a second.” He smiled to himself. He didn’t know who this beautiful lady was,
but with her, the pain wasn’t so bad. He
rested peacefully in her arms as sleep came to him once again.
He didn’t know why, but in her arms,
the pain wasn’t as bad. The suffering
was eased, he could sleep better. He
awakened once more. He looked up and
found her still sitting there with his head in her lap. As he lay there, he noticed that the pain had
lessened, and the suffering was not so bad, and he knew who she was.
She smiled when she saw he was awake
and said, “Oh, Derek, I am so glad you are finally awake. They gave you the anti-virogen almost eleven
and a-half hours ago. Dr. Hayter said
you should be fine within twelve hours or so of taking the virogen. Captain Bateson has fallen sick and Brad has
taken command of the
Derek raised
up and said, “Then I’ve gotta go help him.
He can’t run this ship by himself.”
Lindsey still looked worried,
“Derek, you still need to rest. You’re
body has been through a lot of strain.
Shouldn’t you at least wait for thirty more minutes?”
He just smiled and said, “Don’t
worry about me Lindsey, I’ll be alright.
I feel great now. Don’t
worry.” With that he kissed her then
walked out of his quarters and headed for the bridge.
The doors opened for Kestner on the
bridge. He found Foreman at the helm and
Mrs. Foreman at tactical. He quickly
took his seat at Ops. Foreman smiled
when he sat down and Kestner said, “Lieutenant Commander Derek Kestner
reporting for duty, sir.”
Foreman smiled and said, “Very well,
Lieutenant Commander. Think you can
handle the Ops console?”
“Like the back of my hand, sir,” was
Kestner’s reply. With that, he began his
work at the Ops station.
An hour later, Mrs. Foreman suddenly
gasped as she said, “Sir, sensors show five Volshin ships entering the
system. They will be here in less than a
minute.”
“Red Alert. Open a channel to the Sloane and
Starbase 31,” Foreman ordered.
Mrs. Foreman replied, “Channel open,
sir.”
Foreman cleared his throat. “Admiral Cromer, as the superior officer, you
are in command.”
The speakers crackled as Cromer
replied, “No, Brad, the Volshins are your specialty, I give command to you.”
Kestner noticed Brad shrug as he
said, “Very well. Admiral, assume attack
formation around Starbase 31. We’ll use
the bases weapons to our advantage.”
Both the
Foreman then ordered, “Prepare to
fire, raise shields.” Within seconds the
Volshins had closed the gap between them and Churchill III.
Foreman said, “Fire when they are
within weapons range.”
Seconds later Mrs. Foreman said,
“Firing torpedo barrage.” The torpedoes
flew away from the
With a shocked expression Kestner
looked up from the sensor readouts and said, “Sir, sensors say that the Volshin
ships’ shield emitters are operating at a different frequency than our past
run-ins.”
Foreman asked, “How different?”
Kestner replied, “I’d say it nearly
matches our own.”
Mrs. Foreman cut into their
conversation by saying, “Sir, they’re firing the TON on the Starbase!” The three of them watched helplessly as the
golden spheres called the TON torpedo slammed into the Starbase’s shields. Mrs. Foreman’s voice was one of shock as she
said, “Sir, the Volshins are beaming personnel off the Starbase!”
Through gritting teeth Foreman said,
“Initiate attack Picard One.” Kestner
knew the computer took over navigation of the
Kestner herd Mrs. Foreman gasp and
say, “The torpedoes had no affect! The
ships are turning on us.”
Foreman ordered, “Evasive maneuvers,
pattern Delta.”
Kestner looked up at the viewscreen
in time to see five TON torpedoes headed for the
Kestner looked over at Foreman. He was turning to Mrs. Foreman saying,
“Whitney, prepare to-“ he was cut off by her violent
scream. She disappeared into a beam of
the green, Volshin, transporter beam.
Foreman stood, “No, dammit!
Derek, take over the helm, I need to man tactical.” As Foreman ran up to the tactical station,
Kestner switched the controls so that on his consol was the helm controls.
He noticed something on his consol
and said, “Sir, the Volshin ship is hailing us.”
Kestner sighed and said,
“Onscreen.” The horrible sight of five
Volshins ships was replaced by the green face of, as Kestner thought, the
Volshin Commander. He stood in the center
of the
The Volshin Commander smiled and
calmly replied, “Now, now, Mr. Foreman.
We both know that outrageous outbursts get us nowhere. We realize the role females play in your
society, how much they mean to you, especially if they are your mate. We have intelligence information that proves
this one is indeed your mate.”
The Volshin paused to let this sink in.
He then continued, “We propose a deal: you get back your mate and the
rest of the Federation Hostages, and we are guaranteed free passage to the star
system you call BeLarga.”
Foreman muted the audio and said,
“Derek, I thought you said first contact with them would stop the launch
of that probe.”
“We were hoping that, however, they
must have fired it anyway because we were discovered on the pre-First Contact
mission,” Kestner answered.
Foreman then reestablished the audio
and said, “We cannot allow you to enter the BeLarga system.”
The Volshin commanders smile was
whipped away. He said, “How unfortunate,
Human. If I were any other Commander I
would kill you right now. But I also
understand your species’ tendency to resist in these situations. I will leave for an hour to allow you ample
time to reconsider, and then I will return.
If you have not stood down by that time, you will never see your mate
again, and we will still proceed to BeLarga.
One of your hours, Human, do not attempt a rescue.”
The horrible face of the Volshin
Commander was then replaced by the five Volshin ships turning away from the
“Damn. What is their heading?” Foreman asked.
“The swamp, sir,” Kestner said. Kestner knew the meaning of those words. The area of space known as the Swamp is a
particularly dense nebulae that had been known to hold piracy cells. Kestner had read earlier that the starship Sloane
had been patrolling that part of space for many months, search, and trying
to flush out all of the piracy cells.
He had read Admiral Cromer’s report
on it, and in it she reported that the unusual thing about the Swamp was the
nebular gases are extremely dense. In
fact, she reported, if the gases were any denser, it would be considered a
solid. One thing that caught Kestner’s
eye in reading the report was that the gases in the nebulae has a remarkable
property: standard Federation shields offered no protection against them; the
shields do not drop, but the particles pass through the shields. He believed, as many of the renowned
Federation scientists did, that the particle gas in this nebula was the source
of the Volshin’s TON torpedo.
For a long while Foreman was
silent. Kestner knew that a hard
decision was filling his mind at the moment.
He remained quiet until he finally said, “Mr. Kestner, are there not
several theories out there that speculate the Swamp’s nebular gases are the
source of source of the TON torpedoes properties?”
Kestner nodded, “There are such
theories, what are you suggesting?”
Foreman continued, “And the
ramscoops can collect these gases, right?”
Kestner answered, “There should be
no problem, sir. May I ask what you are
thinking?”
Brad was silent for a moment then
said, “Prepare for the Picard manuver!”
Kestner did not understand. He said, “Sir, we’ve already seen the results
of-“ Kestner smiled as well. “Ah, I see, sir, preparing manuver.”
Foreman called out, “Foreman to Sloane. Admiral Cromer, set course for the Swamp.”
Cromer replied, “Lt. Foreman, may I
ask why? There’s a fleet of Volshins in
there waiting to make space dust out of us!”
It surprised Kestner at how calmly
Foreman replied, “I know that, Admiral, but I have a way to disable those
ships.”
Kestner herd Cromer sigh through the
comm link and say, “Mind telling me how?”
Foreman answered, “Prepare the
ramscoops and be ready for the Picard manuver.”
Kestner thought she sounded confused
as she said, “But what do the ramscoops have to do with the Picard ma-“ herd her chuckle. “Brad,
I gotta hand it to you. Helm, set a course for the Swamp. Cromer out.”
When the connection was cut Foreman
ordered, “Derek, same for you, engage.
They wont keep Whitney for long.” As Foreman said this, Kestner could only
imagine what was going through his mind.
“Entering the
Swamp, sir.”
Foreman said, “Derek, we’ll give
those damn Volshins something to complain about.”
Kestner smiled and said, “Yes,
sir. Sloane now
entering.”
Foreman asked, “Where are the
Volshins?”
Kestner looked at his sensor
readouts then said, “Bearing: oh-oh-six-mark-oh-three-seven. Distance: three million kilometers.”
“Intercept course, engage. ETA?” Foreman asked.
Kestner answered, “Approximately
four minuets, sir.”
Foreman ordered, “Open ramscoop.”
“Aye, sir,” Kestner replied. The chambers that were designed to hold
various gases for scientific study opened, letting out the unusual gases of the
Swamp enter into them. On the viewscreen,
Kestner saw the Sloane’s ramscoops also filling. Kestner the reported moments later,
“Ramscoops are full, sir.”
Foreman said, “Good, close
ramscoops.”
Kestner reported, “Aye, sir,
done. In firing range of the Volshin
ships in two minutes. We can’t risk warp
speed until we are within firing range; the deflector wont
be able to disperse that much nebular gas for that long a time.”
Kestner turned to see Foreman nod
and said, “Very well, Foreman to Sloane.”
Admiral Cromer replied, “Yes,
Captain?”
Foreman continued, “Prepare for the
Picard manuver at my command. Program the
computer to blow out the ramscoops before you leave warp in front of the
Volshin ship.”
Cromer said, “Yes, Captain, I will
be ready at your command.”
Kestner cut in, “Sir, the Volshins
are hailing us, audio only.”
Foreman replied, “Put the dogs on.”
The Volshin Captain’s voice boomed
over the speakers, “What is the meaning of this, Foreman?”
Foreman answered, “We have reached a
decision. Once we are within range, we
will power down our shields and surrender our ships. But only under one
condition: no Federation member looses their life today.”
The Volshin Commander paused, then
replied, “Human, in space there are no promises, only guarantees. There are no curtains, only absolutes. You will surrender or be destroyed, that is
the absolute. The destruction of the
BeLarga culture is the guarantee. Space
is a consistent, Foreman, no change. No
one will ever learn of the Volshin culture, and you will be no exception. There will be human bloodshed today, Captain,
and it will be on your hands!” The Volshin
Commander then cut the connection.
Kestner said, “Sir, we are within
weapons range!”
Foreman smiled, “That bastard thinks
he has the upper hand, but that’s about to change. Sloane and
Kestner checked his sensor
readouts. “Sir, it worked! The Volshin’s shields are neutralized!”
Foreman sounded excited as he said,
“Quickly, begin beaming over all Starfleet Personnel.”
Kestner answered, “Transport
beginning.”
“Transporter room reports locked on
to Whitney.”
“Yank her back!” Foreman said. There was silence on the bridge as they
waited for the transporter room to report.
Seconds seemed like hours to him.
Kestner’s eyes flickered for a
second as he herd the transporter room’s report. Foreman saw him and asked worriedly, “What is
it, Derek?”
Kestner sighed heavily. Foreman asked, “Oh, Derek, did we get her?”
Finally Kestner replied, “The
transporter room reports negative lifesigns at her position.”
Kestner saw Foreman stand as he
said, “Get her out of there, dammit!”
Derek replied in a whisper,
“Transporter room they have a body. It
is…” His voice trailed off. “It is
identified as Whitney Foreman’s.”
For moments Foreman didn’t say
anything. Kestner kept quiet, he knew
his friend must have been going through a lot.
He saw Foreman reach for the chair, but couldn’t sit down.
Kestner saw that Foreman could not
command and called out, “Sloane, all Starfleet personnel are
returned. Open fire on the Volshins.”
Foreman whispered, “Patch me through
to the Volshins.”
Kestner began to protest, “But sir,
I don’t think-“
“I said let me talk to the
bastards!” Foreman yelled.
Derek replied, “Aye, sir, on audio.”
Kestner watched as Foreman slide
into the chair and said, “You bastards listen or I’ll each one of you
slowly! That was a mistake killing a
Starfleet Officer, and it will not go without punishment! I will make sure you never kill again!” Foreman then mad a motion toward Kestner that
told him to cut the connection.
“Blow them out of space!” Foreman
ordered toward Kestner, his eyes red with anger.
Kestner smiled and said, “With
pleasure, sir.” The
“We’re gathered here today, in the
left torpedo bay of the U.S.S. Bozeman, to pay our final tribute and
respects to an honored individual who meant a lot to me.” Foreman paused, looking around at the
attendance of the funeral of his wife. Captain Bateson, Welch, Dr. Hayter, Kestner, Lindsey, Counselor
Rickman,
The sound of Scotty playing “Amazing
Grace” on his bagpipes seemed distant to Kestner. Whitney, too, was his friend. As her burial torpedo made its journey to the
launch tube, he could do nothing but stand there, feeling sorry for Brad
standing only meters away. He wondered
how Brad would go on without Whitney by his side. Perhaps, with his help, Brad can stand once
again, in the face of danger.
As the tube closed, he then felt
hatred, hatred toward the Volshins. They
would pay. No one understood the
Volshins as he and Brad did, and he was sure that both of them would make the
pay for what they had done. But now was
not the time for revenge, now was the time for comforting and remembrance. Now was the time to honor and respect.
Everyone stiffed a little as they
herd the torpedo fire and zoom away from the