didn’t even blink. “I wanted to talk to you,” Garcia fumbled for words.
“That’s why I’m here, son,” Bill said, placing the cup down. “You’re going to need some more
coffee.”
Bill’s choice of the words ‘son’ shook Garcia to the core. Was Bill a clone of Kirk? Could the Iotian
government had saved a strand of Kirk’s hair and cloned him in order to create someone like Bill? People did
loose strands of hair every day. Garcia was biologically related to Kirk in the sense that Garcia was his
grandson, but what would that mean for he and Bill? A clone would be genetically identical, so, biologically
speaking, Bill would still be his grandfather. But then, as a clone, he would not be Kirk because his life
experiences on Iotia made him a unique individual. The age old question of nurture or nature was at play here.
Was it the genes that made the man, or the genetics? Did either really matter?
“God, I wish I had my tricorder,” Garcia rambled, wanting desperately to resolve this puzzle. “Oh, get a life,” Bill said. “That show is dead and gone and buried. Alright? Can I go now?” “Oh, but it isn’t dead,” Garcia countered, drawn into the debate. “This show is very much alive. Alive
in syndication and in the hearts of millions of people world wide. It has greatly influenced Iotian culture and
has the potential to revolutionize the way your society looks at itself and the potential other, the alien species
you will meet in the future.”
“Just because Kirk had the good fortune of looking like me does not mean what you think it means,”
Bill said.
“What do you think I think it means?” Garcia asked.
“You won’t find what you’re looking for here,” Bill said.
“What am I looking for?” Garcia asked.
“If you don’t know, I certainly can’t help you,” Bill said. “You have to find your own answers. Even
if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Why not?” Garcia asked.
“Prime Directive,” Bill said, quite seriously. Then he laughed and hit Garcia on the arm. “You’re
much too serious for someone your age.”
“I want to put your crew back together for a Star Conqueror movie,” Garcia blurted out. Bill laughed. “You really need to see a therapist,” Bill said. “I don’t want to play Kirk. I want to
move on and to do new things. Explore the possibilities and expand my horizons.”
“The role of Kirk is just the sort of vehicle that would allow you to explore those alternative
possibilities,” Garcia said.
“No,” Bill said.
“Look, Bill,” Garcia said, and then thought better of it. “I’m sorry. May I call you Bill? Mr. Shatner.
You’re an international star, you’re flat broke, you’re reading bad poetry badly, and I have the means to
provide you with a job and a salary that would allow you the opportunity to explore your other interests and
projects. Please. I need you.”
“Don’t do that,” Bill said.
“Don’t do what?” Garcia asked.
“Imitate me,” Bill said. “You don’t do it well.”
“I’m not imitating you. I’m being me,” Garcia said. “Will you at least consider my request?” “Even if I agreed, the others won’t agree. They won’t work with me,” Bill said. “I wouldn’t work
with me, come to think of it.”
“I’m on a mission from god. I have to bring the crew together. I need you to help save the world,”
Garcia said.
Bill laughed. “You’re thinking too small. Now, if you made it ‘save the universe,’ then maybe I could
help you,” he said.
“Alright then. Help me to save the Universe as we know it,” Garcia said. “With all its strange
peculiarities, you can’t deny that it has been a great adventure and there are things here worth saving. I will
pay you just to come in and read through the potential scripts we’ve chosen.”
“Please,” Bill said. “No one wants to see an aged, fat, balding man as Captain.”
“I think you underestimate how much love people have for you,” Garcia said. “People love you, not
your diminishing hairline or growing waste line. People love you. I don’t even know you and I… I have
this… unexplained need to be around you. You bring clarity to my being, you instill a sense of purpose that
drives home the importance of Aristotle’s Golden Mean, and the absolute imperative to understand my
humanity and help people achieve all they can be. You understand that, don’t you? You’re not only a man of
passion, but a very compassionate man. My understanding is one of the reason’s you’re always broke is
because you keep giving to so many charities and people in your life and I can’t leave that sort of generosity
unfunded and in a vacuum. You help me, I help you, and in turn, thousands of others are aided directly and
millions more indirectly, but the immensity of what you give to everyone else is so close to infinity that it’s
difficult for me to measure your value. Join me.”
Bill looked to Paula. “How could I ignore such an impassioned plea?” Bill asked her. “He reminds me of you,” Paula said.
“Alright, I’m sold. I will join you and together we will rule the Universe as father and son,” Bill said,
offering his hand.
Garcia stood, took Bill’s hand, and pulled him into an embrace. Garcia was filled with such emotions
he wanted to cry, unable to separate the idea that Bill was indeed Kirk.
“Thank you,” Garcia said. “Thank you so much.”
“Maybe you should hold your thanks until after you see my bill” Bill jested.
kjº
Star Conquerors, The New Generation. Episode 2, Another Piece of the Action:
Admiral Arblaster listens to music, standing center of the room. He pretends to be conducting the
orchestra he hears. A door chime rings. He puts the stick down and asks the music to stop “Come,” Admiral Arblaster says.
“Sorry if I’m disturbing you, Admiral,” Captain Picard says. “You wanted to be notified when we
arrived at Iotia. We’ve dropped out of warp, and are waiting your orders.”
Garcia nods, puts on his ceremonial jacket and exits his ready room. The Bridge is large and he takes
his place center stage, the command chair. Ensign Worf, a Klingon, stands behind the Captain’s chair at a
security station.
“Admiral,” Ensign Worf says. “The Iotians have seventy eight vessels lined up in a Beta Gamma
formation. They are capable of sub-light speeds only, and have insufficient fuel for the maneuvers necessary
to engage us. Lasers and Nuclear missiles are their armaments, no shields. We will cut through them like
butter.”
“Thank you, Ensign,” Admiral Arblaster says.
“Shall I order the rest of our fleet to engage the enemy?” Captain Picard asked. “I think this Galaxy Class Starship, the Flagship of the Fleet, can handle this on its own, don’t you?”
Admiral Arblaster says.
“Of course, Admiral,” Captain Picard agrees.
“Hail the enemy,” Admiral Arblaster says. “Give them one chance to stand down.” Ensign Crusher at Ops turns his chair back to face the Admiral. “Sir?”
Captain Picard steps forward, drawing a dagger. “Don’t question the Admiral.” “Easy, Captain. He is, after all, still a boy,” the Admiral says. “I don’t want my men to fear
questioning my orders. You can discipline him later on his timing.”
“Sorry, Admiral,” Crusher says, cowering. “Your message has been sent. No reply.” “We’ll accept a no response as an indication that they are prepared to die,” Admiral Arblaster says.
“Helm, take us in. Ensign Worf, photon torpedoes, at your discretion.”
Camera shot pans back from the Bridge, revealing the name ISS Enterprise on the saucer section.
Camera rolls for a lateral view of the Enterprise as it moves forward. Photon torpedo tubes begin to glow red
and then torpedoes are away. Camera tracks a volley of torpedoes as they home in on primitive looking space
vehicles. There are flashes of light, fire, and then an expanding sphere of debris and dying embers. “Ha!” Worf yells. “It’s like shooting fish in a barrel. Hardly worth a warrior of my merit’s attention.” “Cease the smack talk, Worf,” Admiral Arblaster says. “It doesn’t become you.”
Worf appears cowed by the comment. “The battle is over, Sir.”
“Helm, take us in, half impulse. I want a standard orbit, Iotia prime, outside the range of their ground
defenses,” Admiral Arblaster says. “Hail their leader.”
“But, Admiral,” Crusher begins to object.
“Boy, if you question another one of my orders today, I will personally gut you right here on the
Bridge, and feed your body parts to the fish in my aquarium,” Arblaster says.
“Oh, please,” Captain Picard says. “Let me. I know the Emperor is running out of good men, but I
hate children on the Bridge.”
“Please, I beg your forgiveness,” Crusher pleads. “I only seek to learn from your wisdom, so that I
might be as you one day. The orders from the Emperor were quite clear. Bomb their cities from orbit until
you have crushed their spirits.”
“You’re such a whiney, kiss ass,” Picard scoffs.
“Follow orders, watch, and learn,” Arblaster says, waving Picard to silence.
“The boy has a point,” Ensign Worf says. “We haven’t even targeted any of their military compounds,
or ground based weapon systems.”
“Captain Picard,” Admiral Arblaster says, standing. “I don’t know what sort of ship you ran before I
came on board, but I expect the security officer to target all enemies without being told to do so, and merely
hold his fire until I am ready. Any further disruptive comments and or lack of performance from your staff
shall result in you receiving severe penalties.”
Captain Picard falls to one knee, bowing in submission.
“Since you all seem to be so ignorant, those compounds and weapon systems are more valuable intact
than blown up. It will save us time from having to refortify this planet if we can take them intact,” Admiral
Arblaster says.
“Because of the Borg. You think we’re going to loose against them, don’t you,” Picard says. Arblaster says nothing.
“Admiral, they’re not answering our hails,” Crusher informs.
“Over ride their satellite communication systems and broadcast on all frequencies, television and radio,
and anything else with a speaker system, even pocket tape players,” Admiral Arblaster says. “You’re on,” Crusher says.
“Iotian people. I am Admiral Arblaster, Fleet Commander, of the flagship ISS Enterprise. Your
reluctance to join the Empire is appreciated, but the time has come for you to make a decision. I have
destroyed your space fleet, and because of the valor of your warriors, I have decided to be generous. I am
offering you a chance to submit without me destroying any of your cities, and I do this at great risk to my
career. I’ll give you two hours to respond, at which point, if I have not heard from your leader, I will begin
targeting cities at random, and I will not stop until every last one is destroyed, or you have complied.” Arblaster waves off the signal. “You have the con, Captain. I’ll be in my ready room.” Arblaster walks off stage left. Break to Commercial. When we return, Captain Picard seeks an
audience with the Admiral. He is buzzed in. Admiral Arblaster orders two teas from the replicator and brings
one to Picard. Picard sits down after the Admiral sits. On the Admiral’s Desk is a space-age, lap top
computer, a few trinkets, and a bowl of precious stones.
“Captain,” the Admiral says. “Give me your impression of those jewels.”
“They appear to be priceless rubies, diamonds, and sapphires, my Lord,” Captain Picard says. “How much would you give me for them?” the Admiral asks.
“Oh, I couldn’t afford them on my salary,” Picard says, adjusting his shirt.
“You have everything you need, room, board, the best medical care that science can give you, and yet,
you still covet these common stones?” the Admiral asks.
“But they’re priceless,” Picard says.
“Why priceless?” the Admiral asks, tossing him a diamond. “Keep it. I don’t know why you would
want it. This ship of ours can replicate a ton of them an hour and rain it down on any of the cities below.” “I don’t know,” Picard says. “I don’t guess I ever thought of it.”
“Most people haven’t, and yet, it is the standard symbol of trade, and the Iotians will be expected to
pay a tribute of these trinkets, which will take more energy for us to haul up here than it would for us to
simply make on our own. I could cover an area the size of Texas a meter deep in gold coins and diamonds in
three days if I wanted.”
“But if you did that, it would destroy their economy,” Picard says. “And the Emperor would still
demand his tribute.”
“You don’t get it,” Admiral Arblaster says, tapping his head. “Currency is a thing of the mind, not an
actual object of value. What you are holding has no inherent value except what you imagine. Value is
artificially created. Water to a thirsty man is more valuable than it is to a man on a boat in fresh water. If we
horde all the diamonds on their planet, letting only a few on the market, then the price is high. But when I tell
you that that stone is as common as granite, you look at me as if I have lost my mind.”
“It’s a symbol of their commitment to us and to the Emperor. We have to have a way of measuring
their devotion,” Picard says. “It is compulsory that they pay the tribute.”
“And they will,” Admiral Arblaster agrees. “Even if children go hungry in the streets, they will pay.
Why? Because an Emperor hundreds of thousands of light years away demands it so.”
“So, why the contempt?” Picard asks. “If we have caused them to suffer, then they have learned
respect.”
“Have you actually met the Emperor?” Arblaster asks.
“Yes.”
“Did you bow?”
“Yes, of course,” Picard said, uneasy look on his face.
“But you have confided in me that you hate the Emperor,” Garcia said.
Picard fidgets in his chair. “He killed women and children on my planet. It was unnecessary. We
were complying. My wife and children were in that group executed.”
“So, did you learn respect?” Garcia asked
“Are you saying it would be better to win their hearts than their servitude?”
“That’s why I like you, Picard. I think there is hope for you yet,” Arblaster says. “That diamond you
hold. It was given to me by my great grand mother. I think it was the only thing she ever gave me.” Picard offers it back.
“No, I want you to keep it. Now, it has value, and this way, I’ll always know where it is,” Admiral
Arblaster says,
“I don’t know what to say,” Picard says.
“Then don’t say anything. I believe you are my friend,” Arblaster says. “That’s sufficient.” “Sometimes, I think you sound more like a philosopher than a warrior,” Picard says. “What’s the difference?”
“I guess there isn’t any,” Picard says.
“I’ll tell you. A warrior without a philosophy is less than a foot soldier, he’s cannon fodder. A
philosopher without the warrior spirit is merely a beggar on the street that no one hears,” Garcia says,
standing. “Shall we go see if the Iotians have made their decision?”
Another Commercial Break. Critics are no doubt marking notes that the show is too cerebral, too
much talk, too much tech talk, but they don’t know what’s in store for them. Battles. Borg. And the ratings are going to go off the charts. Come back from commercial to see an Away Team beaming in. Arblaster center front, Duana on his right and Ilona on his left, an arm’s length behind him. The extras on the landing party spread out into a defensive position just in case there is to be any treachery, phaser rifles at ready. Arblaster walks forward to greet the Iotian leader. Capone goes to his knees, bowing his head in hopes of
pleasing his new master. Arblaster takes his arms and stands him up.
“You and I are equals,” Arblaster informs him. “We bow only to the Emperor.”
“As you say, my lord,” Capone agrees. “As you can see, we have gathered together this tribute. It will
take us more time to get the full amount, but I assure you it will be done shortly if you will only continue to be
as generous with me as you have been so far.”
Arblaster sighs. “I can show you leniency here, but I expect something in return.” “Anything, my lord,” Capone says.
“The occupation force will be arriving soon, and we will be taking over your military compounds and
ground based orbital assault stations. I expect there will be some rebellious attitudes amongst your people,
and perhaps even some terrorist actions taken against the Emperors forces, maybe even a little vandalism. I
want you to eliminate all opposition,” Arblaster says.
“That will be difficult, my lord. We are a proud people. Giving up self rule in favor of your, um,
Emperor’s protection… is not an easy thing. It will take time to get use to. Some resistance is only natural,”
Capone argues
“Resistance is futile. You will comply, or be destroyed. You will no doubt discover that the ones that
come after me will be less merciful than I am being. You may not appreciate that, yet. I want what’s best for
my people, just as you want the best for yours. That’s why I agreed to meet you. I don’t want any more
bloodshed on either side. The rules will be easy for the people to understand. For every one of my men that
die, there will be an entire city lost on your side. Capeesh?”
Capone demonstrates that he completely understands.
“Good. You will remain in office as a liaison between our two governments.” Arblaster appraises the
party behind Capone. “That girl there. Is that your daughter?”
“Yes, my lord. My wife and daughter are both here to witness this historic moment,” Capone says.
The daughter is played by Niki and the mother by Tatiana.
“What love they must have for you in this moment, in your darkest hour where you must force yourself
to be humble at my feet,” Arblaster says. “I will be taking your daughter with me.”
Capone falls to the floor, putting his face to Arblaster’s feet. “Please, my lord, please. She is only
fourteen.”
“I have disregarded the fact that you don’t have the ability to pay the full tax. I even appreciate that
you will make every effort to curtail resistance from your populace, but I have no assurance that once I leave
you will not scheme against those to come. And it would not look good to your people that you yourself have
not shared in their suffering. For my peace of mind, I will be taking your daughter. Duana, Ilona.” Arblaster’s personal elite guards move forward to take the girl while the leader cries, begging, pleading
till spit and mucous and drool and tears run down his face. The girl was crying, too. The mom put herself
between the daughter and the abductors, drawing a knife. Presidential guards draw weapons. Everyone in the
away team raises their weapons, except Arblaster. Duana and Ilona glanced back for further instructions “We can either take her alive, or dead,” Arblaster says to the thing at his feet that use to be a man, but
now lay broken, contempt and hatred beginning to twist his soul into something new. “You choose.” “Put your weapons down!” Capone shouts. “Put them down. Cooperate fully.”
The wife doesn’t put the knife down. “As long as I am living, I will not allow you to take my
daughter.”
Arblaster laughs. “I always liked those sorts of ultimatums.” He draws a weapon and fires it at her.
She collapses to the floor. The daughter cries over her mother. Capone starts to get up but Arblaster pushes
him back down and steps on his hands.
“I merely stunned her, so relax. She is not dead. But I am so amused I am going to have to take her as
well. Duana, Ilona, take both of them to the ship. Keep them comfortable in my quarters until I can tend to
them,” Garcia says.
Duana touches her comm. badge and the four girls disappear. The man that was once leader looks up,
not bothering to wipe his face. “I predict that you will learn something one day soon, Arblaster.” “And what is that?” Arblaster says.
“The problem with being a bully is that in the end, there is always someone bigger and stronger and
crueler than you are, and sooner or later, that dog will have his day. I only pray that he will hurt you worse
than you have hurt me,” Capone says.
Arblaster kneels down, and put his forehead against the forehead of the one time leader of a nation.
Capone resists but Arblaster holds his head firm against his.
“We are of one mind on this. I know you’re right, for I already foresee the day coming. The thing is,
if this enemy I am thinking of wins, whether because of your prayers or not, you can be certain that there will
be nothing left of your people or your culture. The Emperor sends his compliments. Have a nice day,” Garcia
says, and rejoins his men. They close in around him.
The Away team beams up.
kjº
“That is too dark,” Gene complained. “It obviously got by the corporate leaders, and yes, I see the
message you’re going for, but, this is not the future I subscribe to.”
“I know. We are going to run both episodes, to give people a choice. So they can see both realities.
Did you like any of the Lost Episodes I put together for you?”
“Oh, I loved your version of Arena,” Gene said. “That’s exactly the message I’ve been trying to send.
Do you suppose the Metrones are sort of like that Q character you ran by me?”
“I don’t think so,” Garcia said. “I mean, from what we know about Q, he seems to be more adversarial
and uncivilized. He seems, for lack of a better analogy, more like the devil than an evolved soul.” “Interesting. So, out of the scripts I gave you, did you have a favorite?” Gene asked. “Well, I liked the Lost Episode of yours that I put together where Kirk is a carrier of a disease and a
race of aliens hope to use him and the disease for population control. I would really like discussing with you
where you came up with the idea for that,” Garcia said. “But my favorite, hands down, has to be City on the
Edge of Forever. The author’s notes suggests some anger and bitterness at the Corporate changes made to his
original script, but it’s still a damn good script.”
“Yes, it is. You got to City already?” Gene said.
“Yep. It’s amazing what you can do with the write equipment, w-r-i-t-e if you know what I mean. I
got the stack of DVD’s right here for you,” Garcia said.
“When do you sleep?” Gene asked.
“Who needs sleep?” Garcia asked.
“I think we should run an episode where Arblaster is split into two personalities due to a transporter
accident,” Gene said.
“I think that’s been done,” Garcia said.
“No, wait, hear me out. Now, Garcia is multi-speciel. Wouldn’t be interesting to see Arblaster pure
Vulcan and Arblaster pure human? How would they behave? They both carry the same memories but…” “Gene, I will be glad to discuss the theoretical aspects of this idea, but I must warn you that anytime a
television series brings in the evil clone, or the long lost twin, that tends to be the jump the shark episode,”
Garcia explained.
“Jump the shark?”
“You know. When Fonzie jumps the shark it’s like the lowest point a series can go and still be on the
air,” Garcia said.
“Oh, yeah, well,” Gene agreed, but then hesitated. “But the transporter is a great vehicle to really
explore our humanity. What if a transporter separated Kirk so there was a good kind Kirk and really evil
Kirk?”
Garcia sighed. “I can give it to you,” Garcia said, surrendering. “It is, actually, a great way to explore
the Golden Mean.”
“Exactly,” Gene said. “And why wouldn’t we want to just keep reproducing people with transporters.
You could use it to copy people and send them down on an away team, and if you needed an army, you just keep sending energy through the same pattern buffers. But then, it really begs the question, what are we? Do we have a soul? If we have a soul, what happens to it after dematerialization? Does the soul know where to go to find its body? What if another soul should arrive at the newly formed body first? Would a new soul be able to influence the body to act in ways other than what its memories and experience would allow for? If something bad happened to an Away Team, like rapid aging, could the transporter be used to revert the Away Team back to an earlier form? There are just so many questions that the transporter raises that might be fun to
explore on film.”
“Did you see the movie ‘The Fly’?” Garcia asked. “It basically explores one of the questions you want
to delve into. A man and a fly are transported simultaneously and their genetic structures combine so that you
have a part man part fly.”
“That sounds interesting!” Gene said. “Let’s do a Lost Episode like that.”
“Boys, I know you two are having great fun, but it is time for us to head back home,” Majel
interrupted.
“Oh, alright,” Gene said. “By the way, Tam. How’s the big project coming along?” “I’ve found most of the actors of the original SC series,” Garcia said. “They all seem willing to come
on board. I may go with what I have.”
“Let me know if I can be of any assistance,” Gene said.
“You’ve already done so much,” Garcia said.
“It’s what I’m here for,” Gene said.
“Oh, Gene, did you ask him about that song?” Majel asked.
Garcia looked perplexed, but Gene explained it. “You were singing a song the other day, and I think
you said it was by some cat named Stephen, called ‘oh very young.’ Do you remember?” “I remember everything,” Garcia said. “It is ‘oh very young’ by Cat Stephens.”
“One of the lines in the song is something about a great white bird,” Gene said.
“And if you want this world to see a better day, will you carry the words of love with you, will you
ride the great white bird into heaven, and though you want it to last forever, you know it never will,” Garcia
sang a portion of the song. “Yes, I know the words you’re