STAR TREK – THE NEXT GENERATION
by Soledad
EP#5: THE CRYSTAL SKULL
Disclaimer: All Star Trek belongs to Gene Roddenberry and Viacom or whoever owns the rights at this moment. I don't make any profit out of this – I wish I would, but I don't, so suing me would be pointless. This particular story is based on the similarly-titled story idea of Patrick Barry.
Details about the battle bridge are taken from "The Next Generation Technical Manual". The saucer separation manoeuvre is taken from the pilot episode "Encounter of Farpoint", with the necessary alterations.
Timeframe: early season 5, in the year 2368, after the episode "Darmok" but before "Ensign Ro".
Summary: The Enterprise is bringing supplies to an archaeological expedition lead by an old friend of Captain Picard's on Bolaxnu 7. Since the Ferengi are interested in the planet, too, things take unexpected turns. And then Riker begins to change…
CHAPTER 10 – DIVIDED LOYALTIES, Part 3
Riker glared angrily at Picard's image on the main viewer.
"What do you mean you can't allow me to do?" he demanded.
"To destroy the city or to start a war with the Ferengi," Picard replied simply. "It is wrong; and were you not under the influence of the Crystal skull you, too, would see the utter wrongness of it."
Riker gave a mocking laugh. "This is ridiculous; especially coming from a clone who's a Ferengi spy. Mr Worf, cut off the channel at once!
But the Klingon didn't move – for the first time since the whole confrontation had started.
"I think we should hear hat he has to say first, sir," he growled.
Riker shot him an annoyed look and hugged his leather bag protectively; but in the end he gave in – with spectacular reluctance.
"Very well, By all means, if you want to listen to a bunch of lies, let him say his part. It won't change anything."
"I hope it will, Number One," Picard said. "I hope you will start thinking for yourself. I hope you will try to overcome the influence of the skull that is controlling you."
"Nothing is controlling me!" Riker snarled, clutching the bag even either. "I'm doing what I have to do to prevent the city falling into Ferengi hands. It can't be allowed; so move away and give free the firing line."
"No, I won't," Picard replied calmly. "You'll have to destroy the saucer section first."
"That can be arranged," Riker returned darkly.
"Can it?" Picard asked. "Are you really willing to destroy the ship, with over one thousand people aboard, half of them civilians; many of them children? Are you ready to murder them over a millennia-old ruin?"
"Their deaths will be your fault if you don't move out of my way now!" Riker screamed.
Picard didn't even flinch. "You know that I can't do that, Commander," he said.
"Then we have nothing else to discuss," Riker answered, his jaw set. "Mr Worf, open fire at the saucer!"
But the Klingon didn't move. "What is in that bag, Commander?" he asked instead.
Riker gave him a furious glare. "It's not your business. I gave you an order, Lieutenant; do I need to repeat myself?"
"You ordered me to fire on our own ship; on our own people," the Klingon growled. "Even if Captain Picard is a clone, which I'm beginning to doubt, the others are not. I won't be the murderer of women and children; and I won't become a traitor just because you say so. There is no honour in that."
"Oh, don't give me that Klingon nonsense!" Riker sneered. "If you're too much of a coward to do what has to be done, I can launch the photon torpedoes myself!"
He leapt to his feet and tried to get past Worf to do so, but Worf pulled him away from the weapons console. For a few moments they grappled for control, the Klingon clearly turning out victorious, which wasn't really a surprise. But then the leather bag got torn open in the struggle, and the skull rolled onto the floor, its core gleaming eerily in the dimly lit battle bridge.
For a moment Worf froze in surprise; long enough for Riker to snatch up the skull. Its inner glow intensified, and his strength seemed to be instantly renewed from the contact. He moved towards the weapons console again, ready to fire on the saucer.
That finally woke Worf from his shock. He leapt at Riker, knocking the skull out of his hand; it landed at the Klingon's feed with a thud. Riker, blind with fury, grabbed a phaser, pushed the settings up to 'kill' and fired at Worf.
Only his superior Klingon reflexes saved Worf's life. He quickly moved to the side, and the high-energy phaser beam found its mark on the skull. As soon as that happened, Riker collapsed on the floor like a puppet with its strings broken – very much like Data after having his off-switch thrown, in fact.
Worf leaned down carefully to examine the skull. It was no longer glowing; had a blackened, burned-out core instead, with a cracked crystal coating. Even so, the Klingon knew better than to touch it. That was better left to the experts.
He reopened the channel to the saucer section. "Worf to Captain Picard."
"Go ahead, Lieutenant," Picard answered promptly.
"Sir, the skull has been hit by a phaser set to kill and seems to be… incapacitated," Worf reported. "So does Commander Riker,"
"Is he injured?"
"No, sir; he simply collapsed when the skull was hit. Captain, I require a bridge crew over here. I cannot perform the docking manoeuvre on my own."
"That would be too much to ask indeed," Picard agreed. "Any personal preferences?"
"I could use Data's help, sir," Worf admitted. "I never conducted a manual docking before, and with the Ferengi breathing down our necks I wouldn't risk to leave it to the automated systems."
"Nonsense," Picard said. "You are qualified; you'll do just fine. Data, Mr LaForge and Ensign Reager are on their way to Transporter Room Three; so is Dr Selar to treat Commander Riker. Initiate reconnection manoeuvre as soon as they arrive."
"Aye, Captain," Worf replied in barely veiled relief.
Reconnection was a dangerous manoeuvre, unless the person in command had both a sharp eye and quick responses. Worf had both of these. He had done well in the Academy reconnect simulator, which was why he'd been allowed to participate in command training in the first place, but he'd never done it for real. Having such an experienced crew for his first attempt was a great help.
In the end, it was a group of seven people that beamed over from the saucer section. Aside from Data, LaForge, Ensign Reager and Dr Selar also Ensign Peeples from Engineering, Ensign Daro from Security and Simon Tarses were sent; the latter to assist Dr Selar with the treatment of Riker.
Relived by their arrival, Worf settled himself at the flight controller's console; he wasn't such a gifted pilot as LaForge, but he was good enough, especially with Data beside him at the operations console… a place he had been filling since the maiden voyage of the Enterprise.
The Klingon greeted the android with a distracted nod, busily concentrating on the upcoming task. He was not one to doubt his own abilities, but he couldn't deny a little performance anxiety.
"Forward sensors, he ordered softly, and Data switched them on after a brief acknowledgement.
The viewscreen now showed the rear end of the saucer section as it loomed above and ahead of the stardrive section. Worf could already see the docking link area. It looked smaller than he remembered from the simulator.
Disturbingly small, in fact.
"Ahead at docking speed," he ordered, hands moving across the console with the practiced ease of muscle memory. He'd practiced this manoeuvre hundreds of times in the simulator, until he could make the initial adjustments without conscious thought. His rigid posture revealed his inner tension, but his voice remained firm and steady; he was concentrating on the speed and angle of the approach.
The swan-necked battle section slowly moved ahead, towards the huge disc of the primary hull.
"We are still a little low, Lieutenant," Data warned.
Worf nodded his thanks. "Velocity to one half metre per second," he ordered. "Two percent rise. Adjust pitch angle to negative three degrees."
His hands moved over the panel, thick fingers tabbing in tiny adjustments with surprising delicacy. "All stations, prepare to reconnect."
The two halves of the enormous starship were even now, quite close together. The battle section continued to ease forward. Worf followed the approach on the main screen, his eyes narrowed to slits under his bushy eyebrows.
"Level her out," he growled. "Maintain docking speed. Docking crew, prepare for reconnection."
The trailing edge of the saucer section filled the viewscreen, the docking link area dead ahead and growing closer. Worf's hands slid speedily over the console
"Thrusters to station keeping, all velocities zero," he intoned "Her inertia should do the rest now."
The two sections slid together smoothly. The great locking mechanisms began to rumble forward, out of their sockets. Worf hit two more tabs on the flight controller's console.
"Locking up… now. Docking crew complete all reconnections," he reopened the channel to the main bridge. "Docking board is green across, Captain."
Gillespie's voice floated from the ship's intersystem communications. "Docking Chief to bridge. All reconnection systems are secure."
"Thank you, Chief," Picard answered. "Mr Worf, return command to the main bridge and join us. That was well done."
"Aye, sir," Worf said crisply, but his chest was swelling with pride again. "Thank you, sir."
"Dr Selar, how is Commander Riker doing?" Picard inquired.
"The commander is correctly in come," the Vulcan reported. "Brain activity is minimal but present."
"Will he recover?"
"Insufficient data, Captain," Selar said. "He needs to be taken to sickbay, where we will have to run an entire series of tests before we can make a reliable diagnosis."
"I'm not interested in a detailed diagnosis," Picard said. "Give me your expert estimate."
"Based on the test results of Dr Roark, I would say that Commander Riker is in shock," Selar was phrasing her opinion very carefully; this was unknown territory for them all. "Contact with the skull – even a brief one – seems to have caused a certain level of dependency, resulting in unusually high brain activity, even while Dr Roark was unconscious. In Commander Riker's case it must have been worse, seeing that he was in almost unbroken contact with the artefact."
"So the abrupt break of contact when the skull was hit caused the shock, which is why he's in coma now?" Picard concluded.
"Exactly, Captain," Selar replied. "It is my opinion that we will be able to bring him out of it with the help of a cortical simulator. But I would prefer to do so in sickbay, where we can monitor his biological and neural functions constantly."
"Have him beamed to sickbay," Picard said. "And keep me informed about any changes in his condition,"
"Of course, Captain," the Vulcan touched her comm badge, changing frequencies. "DR Selar to Transporter Room Three. Beam me, Ensign Tarses and Commander Riker directly into the Intensive Care Area."
"Acknowledged," O'Brien's voice answered. "Energizing now."
He was still speaking when the transporter beam carried away doctor, med tech and patient. The battle crew, too, was on their way to the turbolift connecting them with the main bridge. Only Worf stayed behind for a moment to dictate the last entry into the log.
"Enterprise log, chief of security's entry. Ship's modules rejoined, stardate 45057.31, with command now transferred back to the main bridge."
It was half an hour later that Worf returned to the main bridge, bringing with him what was left of the crystal skull; which, frankly, wasn't much. In its current state, the once 'magical' artefact had a surprising resemblance to a burned-out 20th century light bulb.
"It was a little more than just that," Dr Boudreau, freshly released from sickbay and invited by Picard to join him on the bridge, commented when Chief Gillespie voiced that opinion. "Or would you say that your Mr Data is basically a toaster?"
"Of course not!" Gillespie returned indignantly. "He's been acknowledged by Starfleet Command as an independent life form; a synthetic one, but still a life form."
"And so was the skull," Dr Boudreau said. "A crystalline life form, feeding on natural forms of energy, including geothermic energy and background radiation. Unlike Commander Data, however, it wasn't an intelligent life form. Not naturally, that is."
"What do you mean not naturally?" LaForge asked.
"The skull was equipped with an artificial intelligence developed by the Faran," Dr Boudreau explained. "As if we would plant a miniature computer inside, say, a tree. The Faran wanted a long-living, resilient life form to be host to their artificial intelligence; a life form that would replenish its own energy source by feeding, so that the information stored inside the artificial intelligence could be handed down to each new generation by a long line of emperors."
"It was a bit more than just information, though," Dr Crusher asked. "The memory engrams were transferred to each new user; basically copied into their brains. The more they used the skull, the more they got overwhelmed by the memories of the previous emperors, until their individual personalities were wiped out and they became Doshin."
Dr Boudreau nodded. "Exactly. In exchange, their own memories and experiences were absorbed by the skull and added to the knowledge that would be handed down to their successors. As close to immortality as one can get, really."
"But why has Commander Riker gone crazy?" Wesley Crusher asked with youthful naiveté, oblivious of the glares the senior officers gave him. Including his own mother.
"Unfortunately, the structure of the human brain isn't made for this sort of transfer," Dr Boudreau explained. "Even the Faran only used the skull in a special room, with safeties in place, or else the user would develop a strong addiction – complete with paranoia."
"Is that what happened to Dr Roark?" Troi asked. "He accuses you to have pushed him into that pit, you know."
"Unfortunately, yes," Dr Boudreau sighed. "He was there when I found the skull, and we worked on it together for a while… until he began showing erratic behaviour."
"Please elaborate," Troi said.
"It started with him trying to court me," Dr Boudreau replied. "Which is ridiculous, if you consider that I'm twice his age – or more. Then he became more and more jealous about the skull. He accused me of trying to keep it from him; to deny him knowledge that would be his by right."
"It seems that – after millennia of inactivity – the artificial intelligence thought there was a new emperor and tried to turn him into Doshin," Picard realized.
Dr Boudreau nodded. "That seems to be the most plausible theory, yes. Of course, now that it's gone, we'll never know the whole truth. Or is it still salvageable?"
She looked at Data questioningly, but the android shook his head.
"No, Doctor. My scanners indicate that there is no longer any power in it."
"A pity," Dr Boudreau said mournfully. "Many of Izul's secrets are now lost for us, forever. But perhaps it's for the best, after all; seeing what it could do to people."
"There's one thing I still don't understand," Troi said. "Why was it more addictive for men than for women? And why did they react with starting to make advances to any woman in a position of authority first?"
"Faran emperors were exclusively male," Dr Boudreau explained. "However, our research indicates that the females of the imperial family –called matrons – were the true power behind the throne. It is only a theory, of course, but I think they were the ones who could provide or deny access to the skull. Faran society was pretty much a female-dominated one; among other reasons because females were few in numbers and therefore highly desired and respected."
"Which, perhaps, explains the Ferengi attitude towards their own females," Picard said dryly.
"Probably," Dr Boudreau allowed. "We'd still need more research to tell for sure, though."
"I'd like to know one more thing," Troi said. "Dr Roark keeps stating that you've pushed him into the pit where he got so gravely injured. Is he telling the truth?"
"Yes," Dr Boudreau replied simply. "HE did also tell you that he'd tried to beak my fingers to get the skull first, though, didn't he?"
Troi shook her head. "No, he didn't."
"I didn't think he would," Dr Boudreau said thoughtfully. "Not that I'd blame him, mind you. He wasn't in his right mind. Neither of us was, frankly. The skull might have had a lesser effect on me, being a woman – and an old one at that, very settled in my ways and thus not so easily influenced – but not even I had the four-lobed Faran brain, necessary to handle such a device properly."
"You understand that there might be an investigation later," Troi warned her.
"I know; I might have retired from active duty, but I used to be a Starfleet officer long enough to know how these things work," she said. "I'm willing to make a full report and bear the consequences; but Dr Roark will have to do the same. One way or another, this means the end of the expedition," she added with a sigh, "and the inglorious end of my life's work, too."
"Not necessarily," Picard said. "Will's example shows that neither you nor Dr Roark could be made responsible for what happened. And should there be any other artefacts that may pose a threat, it would be in the interest of the Federation not to allow them to fall into Ferengi hands."
"Starfleet Sciences would hardly let me continue my work after this failure," she commented bitterly. "And without their support we can't hope to continue our work. The planet is too beyond official Federation borders to be safe."
"Why wouldn't they allow you to continue?" Picard asked. "You didn't fail; you have found Izul, haven't you? And what the skull did to you – and to Dr Roark, and to Commander Riker – wasn't your fault."
"I doubt the brass would see it the same way," she muttered.
Picard shrugged. "They'll come around, I'm sure. Oh, there will be a debriefing, no doubt about that; but my mission report will expressly suggest that you be allowed to continue your work; and I'm sure zh'Cheen will do the same."
"Even if Starfleet allowed me to continue, the Ferengi would not," Dr Boudreau reminded him. "DaiMon Zaeb was hell-bent to lay hands on the city himself."
"And he still is, I'm sure about that," Picard agreed. "But as you've told me yourself, he's not a Ferengi; not really. He's one of the last Faran – or what they've become during the recent millennia. I have the feeling that he wouldn't want the Alliance to occupy the planet; that way he'd lose the legacy of his ancestors."
"But he wouldn't mind us being there?" she asked doubtfully.
"That's not very likely," Worf commented. "They wouldn't want us to claim the legacy of the city, either."
"Mr LaForge tells me the technology down there isn't of any particular interest for the Federation," Picard looked at his chief engineer for assurance, and LaForge nodded.
"That's true, Captain. "We might not have the exact same things, but we have other stuff that's every bit as good. We don't need the Faran technology – what's still working of it."
"The descendants of the Faran, however, have been living in exile for the last two hundred years," Picard said. "They might want to move back in; or, in case the planet's climate has become too hostile for them, they would want to use the knowledge stored in the databases; or any pieces of technology that can be removed."
"Do you believe the Federation would be willing to let them have Izul?" Troi asked.
Picard shrugged again.
"The Federation can hardly deny that Izul is – and has always been – their planet," he pointed out. "Supporting their claim in exchange for the right to continue archaeological research would be an arrangement of mutual advantage."
"If you can persuade both parties to make this agreement in the first place," Troi said.
"I'll present the idea to DaiMon Zaeb shortly," Picard replied. "If he's agreeable… well, I was thinking of asking for the help of Ambassador Troi to hammer out the agreement in further detail."
"My mother?" Deanna seemed more than a little mortified by the idea.
Picard gave her a grim smile.
"You cannot deny the fact, Counselor, that she's a formidable personality; exactly the kind of imperious woman the Faran were apparently hard-wired to listen to. Plus, she can deal with regular Ferengi better than anyone else. She'll lead them around in circles by their earlobes. Literally."
"Yes, I suppose that is true," Troi agreed ruefully. "For some reason the idea still frightens me, though. I'm not even sure why."
"Because she's your mother who's been bossing you around all your life," Picard said. "Giving her two opposing Ferengi factions to boss around would do everyone a lot of good. Ambassador Troi will literally blossom, finally having a truly important mission again. Both Faran and Ferengi will be intimidated into behaving themselves by the sheer force of her personality; and I think she and Annette will go on fabulously," he added, with a smile in Dr Boudreau's direction.
"No doubt," Dr Boudreau agreed. "Between her and me and zh'Cheen we'd be able to deal with the Ferengi… and the Faran. In theory, at least."
"Then let's see how can we work out the practical details," Picard suggested. "I'll send my report to Starfleet Command; talk to Admiral Savar who's responsible for operations in this sector and suggest DaiMon Zaeb a personal meeting."
"I would suggest the Enterprise for that meeting," Troi said. "If he agrees, that would show that he at least considers playing fairly… or whatever Ferengi see as fair."
"Agreed," Picard nodded; then he turned to Dr Boudreau. "Annette, you should speak to Starfleet Sciences and ask zh'Cheen to join us, should the meeting be agreed about. She's a person of authority among her own people; besides, Andorians are not easily intimidated."
"That leaves me to contact my mother, I assume," Troi said unhappily.
"I would be grateful if you did, Counselor," Picard replied. "You should also provide her with all the information she might need to assess the situation properly."
Troi nodded, still looking more than a little doubtful; not the least because of her mother's… special interest in the captain.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Captain?"
"No; I'm sure I don't want to do this, Counselor," Picard answered dryly. "However, I'm fairly sure that we need to do this. Whatever else your mother may be, she's a skilled diplomat, with a seat in the Federation Council – and with excellent connections. Connections that we'll need to reach a peaceful end fort his conflict before in could escalate."
~TBC~