Of Noble Heart: Star Trek, TNG

D.R. McCann

Chapter 2

The office was neither utilitarian nor lavish. It was instead comfortable, with two pale grey sofas and matching chairs, indirect lighting and a low table with a small tray filled with small, river-smooth pebbles for restless hands to stroke and mould. The steady hum of the engines could be felt and even heard if brought to mind, but the crew of the Enterprise rarely thought about them. Indeed, it was when the gentle drone stopped or changed pitch that the sound became a matter of conscious thought.

Sitting uneasily on the edge of a sofa was Lieutenant Worf, a Klingon of no mean size and build, who served the Enterprise as head of security. He looked down at his big hands as they pushed the delicate stones apart and back around the tray. He continued his tale.

"So, when Alexander was little, he was easier to control. Then I could tell him what to do, even discipline him on the few occasions it was necessary. I could send him to his room and expect him to obey me. But now, now he is stubborn…'

"Like his father?" Counsellor Deanna Troi interrupted with a smile and a twinkle in her eye. She pushed her long black hair behind her shoulder and leaned toward Worf in a deliberate effort to get him to relax and open up.

Worf eyed her and chose to ignore the rub, for he knew it originated from her concern for him, not malice. He and Deanna had been through too much, and had shared their love of Worf's ten year old son Alexander for too long for him to doubt her motives now.

"… As I was saying. Now, if I order him to his room he may or may not obey me! Sometimes he pretends he just doesn't hear me. That's just not acceptable!' Worf sat up straighter, emphasising the point.

"I suppose that you never gave the Rozhenkos reason to doubt that you'd comply with their rules?" Deanna asked in mock surprise. She was referring to his Terran parents, who had adopted and raised him after his own Klingon father had died.

"Well," Worf began, "maybe on occasions, but not consistently… not like Alexander is doing! As a good Klingon boy, I obeyed my adoptive parents just as I had my own."

Ignoring his stridence Deanna probed further. "But when would that have been, that you gave them reason to doubt your compliance?"

"Once, when I was about 13, my father, that is Sergey Rozhenko, insisted that I not attend a function organised by some boys at school. I went anyway, and as luck would have it, the party deteriorated into a brawl. I came home with a black eye, and I was punished… with my privileges taken away for two weeks."

She could see in his face the same look of defiance she imagined he had presented his father long ago.

"Yes, thirteen or even a bit older seems the right age for such wilfulness. But we know that Alexander is spirited, big for his age and maturing early. So, he is undoubtedly reaching what I call the 'second stage of independence' a bit prematurely."

"The second stage. What is the first?" Worf asked.

"Oh, that's the 'terrible twos' when a toddler has identified himself as separate from his mother and is keen to test his limits and then to prove his independence. You will see a child of that age stand and say 'no' to no one in particular, just to hear himself say the word."

Worf smiled ruefully. "Luckily I missed that stage." His words recalled for the Counsellor that Alexander was six years old when he arrived on the Enterprise.He was left in the care of his father, who was more than a little surprised because he didn't even know Alexander's existed, when his mother, the Klingon Ambassador K'Ehleyr, died on Qo'noS. Deanna knew that while Worf loved Alexander deeply his temperament and background meant he was neither a relaxed nor a natural parent, well not a natural liberal, hands-on parent.

He continued with his story. "So, ever since he came to live with me he has never behaved disrespectfully or disobeyed me." Recalling why he was now in the Counsellor's office he deflated. "But now, he is obstinate. It's not that he disobeys me exactly. But when I give him orders he argues with me, always trying to prove his wishes are equal to my own."

"But Worf," Deanna asked pointedly, "are they not? Isn't what separates the two of you is your different levels of understanding of life, different experiences and insights. But the value attached to your and Alexander's opinions, to your wishes, is not really that different, is it?"

For the next quarter of an hour Deanna tried to convey to Worf some of the principles of parenting half-grown children. "Yes, its hard for Alexander to judge the outcome of his actions when he hasn't the experience that you have, but his cravings to do something – whether you like it or not – are just as valid as your own."

Worf had come a long way as a parent under Deanna's tutelage and he was willing to hear her out. Born into a powerful family within the Klingon warrior tradition, he was raised by kindly and liberal human parents, and so he himself was torn. He could not bring himself to discount the Counsellor's tolerant treatment of rebellious children even though it did not conform with the way a Klingon normally raised a son. As he sat in her office he recognised that she was appealing to what he thought of as his 'weaker' Earthling side.

"When he was younger," Deanna started again. "He was easier to control, earlier to convince, easier to parent. If he failed at something you could just do it for him. But we can't keep on doing that or our children never learn to do things for themselves. They need to learn to make decisions, and not have them made for them. So now parenting Alexander is different. Now you want to give him space to do for himself, to grow skilled at living his own life, making his own decisions … even making his own mistakes. Hopefully he will have some successes too, and learn from those. He is growing up and away from you Worf. That's why I call it a second stage of independence…"

Worf wasn't ready to have Alexander grow up and away, not yet, but he didn't tell the Counsellor that. Indeed, sitting there he could feel a slight panic rise inside his chest. He'd had his son for such a short time… it just couldn't be time for independence? Not yet. At the same time he knew that Deanna was right. He wanted Alexander to become a strong, decisive and able man, a man of wisdom and principles, a man who could take care of himself, a Klingon warrior…. just not yet. Deanna sat quietly, giving Worf time to think things through.

When he looked up at her again she continued. "So, it's a delicate time. He is stretching his wings, making a stand… but, unfortunately, he hasn't the experience to judge the outcome of his actions like you do."

"Yes, he still needs me." Worf was pleased at the thought.

"So, the problem with young adults is getting them to amend their goals and their behaviour in line with what their elders recommend, in line with what is reasonable and practicable. Not because you want it that way, not because your desire is paramount, but because it is the best thing for him. You can't order him about, Worf, that just won't do anymore. He wants you to take his views into consideration, too."

"Yes, I can see that," he agreed, this time with real understanding.

"At the same time children need to listen to those with experience, their elders generally and especially their parents, not because they are their parents or because their wishes are more valid, but because parents have the wisdom to know what is safer behaviour and which course of action is more likely to succeed."

"That's just it! I want to advise him, but he ignores my advice. How do I get through to him? To give him the benefit of my years of experience, my wisdom as you call it, while …" Worf stopped and searched for the words.

"… while respecting his individuality and independence?" Deanna finished the sentence.

"Yes, and without interfering when he is making decisions? It seems impossible to do both at once. "

"Yes, it seems so, Worf. And that's why growing up seems so easy compared to parenting. How to help our children, keep them safe, get them to accept our wise advice, while at the same time giving them the space and responsibility to grow, to make decisions and become independent, so they can go forward without us."

Worf grew silent again. He could see this was as difficult as planning a battle. He recalled a time when he found Alexander trying to lift his batleth and had almost decapitated himself doing so. "But they can hurt themselves if they do the wrong thing or make the wrong choice. How can I stand by for that?"

Deanna sighed, realising how hard it was for Worf to let go even a little. "So, what are your choices in such a situation?"

"Well, you can let him hurt himself and learn a lesson, or you can stop him and keep him from danger. Maybe make him stay in his room?"

"Or can you let him go and trust he will figure out a way to do what he likes without coming to harm? To trust him, and believe that he has learned from your years of teaching him to be responsible." She paused to let the words sink in. "And can we agree that when children get older they are less likely to be physically harmed by bad judgement, just as they are less likely to listen to good advice?"

Worf thought a long time again, his strong fingers sifting the smooth stones absentmindedly. Deanna was used to the rustling sound made by her patients, and found it soothing. She thought of it as the sound of people's growing awareness.

"So," the Counsellor finally said, "you can see you have little choice really, if you want your child to grow up independent and able to make his own wise choices. He needs practice, and he can't get that if he's never allowed to make a decision, or to make a mistake, or if he's never allowed out of his room. We can help and protect our children too much, Worf." She gave him one of her broad smiles as she said the words.

"What do I do then?" Worf glanced at her and grimaced with exasperation.

"Each case is different, but the most important thing is for parent and child to keep listening to one another. Alexander needs to learn that it's your experience – not your wants – that you rely upon to formulate advice and give him direction. He has to trust that you are on his side. Only then can he accept your judgement, based on the wisdom you have gained by making your own mistakes. You have to listen to him. You can't bully him, that will only make it worse. It sounds like you and he have a bit of work to do, getting those lines of communication re-opened."

Worf opened his mouth to ask how to do that if Alexander was deliberately shutting him out, but his comm. badge sounded.

"Lieutenant Worf," the voice of Captain Picard interrupted, "please come to the conference room."

Worf acknowledged the order and rose, just as Counsellor Troi's communicator went off. "Counsellor, will you please come to the conference room?"

"Yes sir," she said, looking at Worf with a puzzled expression. She stood, patted her wild black hair, straightened her uniform and followed Worf through her office door.

As they entered the room they saw Captain Picard at the end of the dark oblong table. Outside the stars raced by, where inside it was still and calm. At the far end of the table sat the android Science Officer, Lieut. Commander Data, who waited for the meeting to begin by doing calculations in his head related to a problem he was working on when called to the meeting. Next to him was the handsome First Officer Will Ricker, talking quietly with the ship's doctor, Beverly Crusher. She wore a lab coat with her red hair draped over her shoulders. Riker glanced at the Counsellor as she entered, and gave her a brief smile. On the other side of the table sat Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge, the Chief Engineer, who greeted the two as they took seats next to him.

"We are all here now," Picard said to the communications screen mounted on the bulkhead at the end of the table. On it was the rounded, tan face of Admiral Robbins, a member of Starfleet, who served as its senior liaison officer to the Federation Council.

"Good, there's no time to waste," Robbins said to the assembled group.

Hearing the warning, the six officers glanced with curiosity at Picard. As his face gave away nothing they turned back toward the screen, and presented the Admiral with their undivided attention. Each was keen to hear what he had to say, for he had piqued their curiosity. Besides that, every one of them was on the Enterprise because they liked a challenge.

Over the years Captain Pickard had knitted them together into a team. They had learned they could count on one another when facing a crisis, and each knew the others were steadfast and dependable. They understood what made the others tick, so not only had they come to come to trust one another but they also liked working together. And though a decade before Commander Riker and Counsellor Troi had been passionate about one another, their relationship had mellowed with the passing of time and while they still remained watchful of each other's interests, they now accepted – some times less happily than at others – the relatively uncomplicated status of 'close friends'. Captain Picard was proud and confident that together, they could perform any task, however urgent, given them by the Admiral.

Only Picard knew Admiral Robbins personally. As a Lieutenant Commander he had been on Picard's board of enquiry in the mid-2350s, when then-First Officer Picard's actions aboard the Stargazer were scrutinised. Picard knew him to be a serious man, intellectually rigorous but fair-minded, which is just the type of inquisitor any innocent young officer would want when under investigation.

"Picard, we have a mystery on our hands," the Admiral began. "The situation is not only puzzling but it has serious security implications. Further, it's got to remain a secret as far as possible, especially from the Romulans."

The officers, further intrigued by the Admiral's warning, looked again at Picard. He glanced at Riker, who silently nodded and indicated their compliance. The Captain turned again to the screen. "Yes sir. We understand."

"What I have to tell you must remain confidential for two reasons. First, the events demonstrate an enormous power, which Starfleet wants to assess and fully understand if possible, before word of it leaks out to our enemies. Secondly, it poses a mystery that goes to the heart of what is human, and therefore, it's of fundamental importance to the Federation." No one moved or spoke and the Admiral continued.

"Several months ago an archaeological dig on Rabijan IX in sub-sector two-six of the Alpha Quadrant uncovered technology of vast importance. Because it was well in advance of the Federation's current levels of technological development, the Council sent an experienced archaeologist to head the team. Dr Pakat was put in charge."

"Yes, I know him," Picard said with enthusiasm. "I took courses from him at the Academy, but that was a long time ago." The officers around the table smiled, for they knew that Picard had had an opportunity to become an archaeologist instead of a Starfleet officer. Moreover, they knew that he retained an interest in the past, whether as an historian or an archaeologist.

"Exactly," the Admiral said. "That is why we have selected the Enterprise to follow up on this. We know of your expertise and interest."

Picard shook his head, "Sir. I am not a specialist, only a casual amateur." He paused and then asked, "I've lost track of Dr Pakat. Where is he teaching now?"

"He's based at Southern Luna University," the Admiral answered. "Let me tell you the rest of the story." He continued giving them details of the excavation, highlighting the need to augment the composition of the scientific team once the sophistication of the technology was established and again after the body was uncovered. "We received Pakat's field report a week ago, which outlined the team's initial findings and recommendations."

The group listened, keen to hear more about the mystery. Only Data sat with a blank expression on his face, but that was because his emotion-chip was locked away in his cupboard. But he took in every word the Admiral said, and also analysed the timber of the man's voice and his body language in an attempt to judge his stress levels.

"The site is old," Robbins continued.

"How old Admiral?" Picard asked.

"Something like 50 or 60,000 years, maybe more."

"And the man that was found…' Deanna opened.

"He lived in the same era, more or less. We at Starfleet assumed when Professor Pakat called Dr Martin in to investigate, that the man was a Vulcan or some other humanoid. As it turns out – though we still have to complete the analysis of the skeleton – that he was not only humanoid, but maybe even human."

"Terran?" Data managed to ask first.

"As far as the initial information provided us, yes, the spaceman – that is what they called him because he was in what appeared to be a spacesuit – was perhaps a Terran. But did he originate on Earth? Not 60,000 years ago! We just don't know who he is, or how he got there."

"And his death…' Deanna, an empathic Betazoid, was aware that the Admiral was hiding something, as yet unspoken.

"He died a violent, unnatural death, as did the planet. By all accounts it's an awful place, ragged sharp igneous rock, infertile plains, polluted water and rank air."

"What killed him, and the planet for that matter?" Riker interjected.

"Again, we don't know, but Dr Pakat explained in his report that it was a powerful force – he provided some calculations – perhaps even a planet-wide force. If I were guessing, I would say a solar flare or perhaps plasma weapons – by the state of the planet now, fifty millennia later."

The officers sat in silence, absorbing what they had heard. None had heard of the Rabijan system before, and none knew exactly where it was, but they all recognised the significance of a humanoid, perhaps a Terran, living in the far reaches of the Alpha Quadrant fifty thousand years ago. That he was surrounded by high-tech machines was all the more intriguing.

"So," the Admiral continued, trying to gather the story together again. "It's been a whole series of surprises: from a student finding the site, their discovering advanced technology that did not originate in the Federation, and then to literally trip over the human, dead fifty thousand years at least. That's the gist of Pakat's report." He paused for questions but no one jumped in.

"I have saved the biggest surprise to the last: Dr Pakat and Dr Rimina, and their colleagues on Rabijan IX were packing the remains of the human and two dozen crates of technology for transhipment back to Earth on the Oppenheimer. It disappeared."

"What disappeared?" asked Riker, as the others leaned forward eagerly. "The technology or the Oppenheimer?"

"No, the site. Well, more than that," Robbins said, "the whole damn planet."

The officers sat still, unsure they had heard the man correctly.

"Sorry Admiral?" Picard asked. "I am not sure we heard you properly."

"Yes you did, Captain," the Admiral said as his face sagged and all of a sudden showed his age. "This is one hell of a situation. The whole planet disappeared, along with the technology, the spaceman, and the scientists that were on it."

The room was deathly silent as the officers took in the enormity of the news.

Picard regained his voice first: "it was destroyed?" he asked.

"Not that we can see. There is no debris field, no rock or remains of a planet. There was no shockwave felt by the Oppenheimer, which was in the region. Nor was one registered by DS 16. Nor was a blast felt on the other inhabited planets of the system. We asked their governments and they claim ignorance of the missing planet."

"How about the sun?" the otherwise silent engineer asked. "Perhaps there was a solar flare or gamma radiation that hit the planet and bypassed the others?"

"No, we looked into that too, and found no recent solar activity of any magnitude. Nor was there any trace of energy weapons fire from outside the system that could explain its disappearance."

"But that doesn't make sense," Data said. He had been sitting quietly contemplating the news. "How were you able to communicate with the inhabitants of the other planets…' He clicked his head to the right, obviously accessing his internal database. "There are two in that system, right?"

"Yes, Rabijan IV and VII."

"Right, so how were you able to contact them when the destruction of Rabijan IX should have interfered with their orbits, making their rotations unstable, and at the very least, disrupting their atmosphere and communications?"

The Admiral smiled.

Data continued, "Yes, and on the ground, when their rotations and orbits were destabilised, their settlements would have been destroyed – at least partially - and their inhabitants killed. Perhaps wiping out the two civilizations altogether? Or even dislodging the planets from their orbits."

"Its impossible to slip anything by you, isn't it Commander Data?" the Admiral said with a smile and a shake of the head.

The others at the table had caught up, but Data explained anyway. "All orbiting bodies are influenced by others nearby. Imagine if the Terran moon was removed, how that would affect the Earth. It would also disrupt the path of the Earth's orbit if other nearby planets, especially Jupiter, were destroyed or blasted out of the solar system. To what extent I can calculate…'

"That's alright Data, you can perform your calculations later," Picard said, turning back to the screen. "So, if Data is right, the other planets have in some way been dislodged, or thrown out of orbit, or at least affected by the disappearance of Rabijan IX?"

"No, Picard, they have not. And that is the biggest, or at least the latest mystery of them all: where Rabijan IX once was situated there is a 'gravity well', at least that is what our scientists are calling it."

"Please explain Admiral," Picard said, expressing their willingness to hear even the most outrageous supposition.

"As you will recall from your Academy days, the centre of mass of each planet, or any other body, is the place where gravity is concentrated. So, take a massive and lightly packed body – say a big old star, a gas giant – and take a tightly packed neutron star of much smaller size. If their masses are the same their gravity will affect distant neighbours, such as planets or other stars, exactly the same. To measure the force of their gravity you would calculate it at the centre of mass of each of the bodies. If they have the same mass they'd the same impact at a distance. Are you with me?"

All well-trained in Newtonian physics at Starfleet academy, they followed his logic. Even Deanna, who had the least training in the hard sciences, nodded her understanding too. Picard asked the Admiral to continue.

"Another way to look at it is like a giant rubber sheet, where a body with mass is laid down on it. Naturally, it makes a dent in the sheet, demonstrating how the gravity has more force closer to the body and less further away."

They had all seen this demonstration at the Academy when their professors explained why light bent around a large gravitational body like a galaxy.

"So," Robbins continued, "there where the mass of Rabijan IX was once centred, is a spot that displays the same pull of gravity as before. It keeps the other planets in the system moving in their same orbits without any of the disruptions that Mr Data explained."

"Is there anything in that location?" Data asked. "Perhaps a particle of enormous density and weight that might create a gravity well of the same depth and expanse. Maybe dark matter of some sort?"

"Not that we can find," the face on the screen said. "As you can imagine, the Oppenheimer is timidly exploring the spot at the moment." The officers nodded their agreement. "But thus far, we see nothing, not a molecule of extraordinary matter."

"It sounds impossible," Doctor Crusher cut in. "How can a whole planet disappear and leave no trace? And a spot be held open for it, as it were?"

"Doctor," Data turned to his colleague, "the one thing we know is that it takes enormous energy to create the illusion of mass the size of a planet, or to establish a gravity well of this magnitude, and to keep it fixed there indefinitely."

"You mean it might disappear suddenly?" a surprised Dr Crusher asked.

"Now you understand why we are gingerly exploring the area," the Admiral added. The red-headed doctor nodded in silent agreement and returned to her own thoughts.

Data concluded for his colleagues, "whoever has done this has learned to manipulate gravity, it seems."

Picard nodded and returned to the screen. "Okay Admiral, we are beginning to understand the extent of the mystery."

"Yes, this display of power has shaken the Council, and it wants to know what force is behind it. Moreover, the technology that was found on that planet was, shall we say, potentially useful to develop a better way of fighting the Borg. We don't want it falling into the hands of the Romulans or the Cardassians or their allies. Not only that, the original mystery remains. What happened fifty or sixty millennia ago on that planet, and how did a humanoid, perhaps an Earthling, come to die among advance, alien technology? All very curious. Yes, Picard?"

The Captain looked at his first officer, who raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, also welcoming the challenge the Enterprise was about to take on. Picard turned again to the communicator. "So, what exactly is it you want us to do?"

"Captain. We need someone out there with the skills and capacity to think outside the box. You and your people have shown that ability before. Your knowledge of archaeological digs will help if you find the scientists. We also need someone who can tread carefully if need be, and not make the situation worse…"

"…Like making the giant who stole the planet mad at us," Dr Crusher whispered to herself, though Geordi and Deana, sitting nearest her, caught her words and nodded their agreement.

"…A diplomat," the Admiral concluded.

"I am sending you the data we have, which consist of the various reports sent by the different teams working on Rabijan IX during the last year as well as Dr Pakat's last field report, sent by subspace communication the night before they disappeared. I will also send the readings made in the sub-sector and the Rabijan system by the Oppenheimer and the other science vessels since the planet disappeared."

Picard looked around the room to ensure that his staff had asked all their questions. Beverly Crusher lifted her hand and caught his attention.

"Admiral, can you also forward any information about the skeleton? Who knows, he might end up helping us track down the missing planet."

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