Star Traks: Melting Pot is based on Alan Decker's Star Traks, which in turn is based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry, may he rest in peace. Copyright 2004. Star Traks: Melting Pot The Quests for the Six Spheres of Power - Part 2 "A Rolling Stonehenge" by Paul Cloutier Captain's Log; Stardate unknown and probably irrelevant - after solving the riddle of the Omega Configuration and awakening the Foreenans, the inhabitants of the stellar system concealed by the Configuration, we were asked by the combined sentiences of the Foreenans, the OverMind, to pursue several 'Quests' in order to recover artifacts which would enable the Foreenans to re-assume their physical forms. Agreeing to undertake these 'Quests' we entered some sort of vortex and have emerged in an unknown sector. Other than being in an apparently geo-stationary orbit over the small blue-green planet below us, we have, no information about our present whereabouts. "Well, that's certainly a much better ride than a Slingshot Maneuver!" observed Lieutenant Dil Mantron from his position at the Menagerie's Helm control console. "Perhaps," agreed Seetamyn, the ship's Vulcan captain, "but with a Slingshot Maneuver we would at least know where and when we were, wouldn't we?" Commander Thog's lips moved slightly as she worked through the captain's last statement. The dour-looking Vulcan was a bit long-winded but, otherwise, a truly excellent leader. Finally satisfied that she had deciphered her way through the plethora of W's, she said, "Well, sir, that's easily remedied." Seetamyn responded in his nearly infuriatingly calm demeanor with, "Indeed. M'Dral, full sensor sweep, all bands. B1 and B2, tie into the sensors and extrapolate our position from current and historical stellar cartographic data." M'Dral almost immediately responded with their first clue to their location, "Sir, we are currently in orbit above a Class-M planet. It is approximately 12,750 kilometers in diameter and has a rotational period of almost exactly 24 hours." "24 hours!" shouted Mantron, "That sounds like Earth!" "We are detecting no large artificial constructs on the planet, below. I do have one anomalous energy reading, almost directly below us, however," the Benzite reported. "That is probably the first Sphere of Power," mused Thog. "Can we get a transporter lock on it?" "No, sir, it appears to be somehow solid energy," M'Dral explained. "We won't be able to transport it." "'Solid energy'?" Seetamyn asked, his innate scientific curiosity piqued, "what effects is it having on the surrounding area?" "Apparently none, sir. It appears to be located in a primitive house, in fact." "What!?" exclaimed Thog, Banjo and Mantron. "Please elaborate," was Seetamyn's only comment. "We are in orbit over a small, primitive village, sir ," came the Benzite's reply. "It houses approximately 200 humanoid inhabitants. The energy given off by the supposed Sphere is preventing any more detailed analysis, however." "So we have a Earth-like planet with primitive, humanoid inhabitants..." "Actually, sir, we have Earth, itself!" came the report from the Science console. "What!?" came the quartet of Banjo, Mantron, M'Dral and Thog, in response to the duet announcement from the Bynars. "We are in orbit around Earth. Furthermore, we have been transported somewhere between 4500 and 5000 years backwards in time." Lieutenant Mantron suddenly burst out laughing. The rest of the bridge crew just stared at the Betazoid. Finally Thog lost her temper, "Pull yourself together, Lieutenant. There is no reason to fall apart." "No, you don't understand. The Sphere cannot be transported. Someone has to actual travel down there to get it. Since we are deep in Earth's history, Primitive Culture protocol as well as the Prime Directive are in effect. And we are the only ship in all of Starfleet WITHOUT A SINGLE HUMAN ON BOARD!" The rest of the bridge crew looked around at each other as the ramifications of the Betazoid's observations sank in. Finally, Seetamyn said quietly, "Commander Thog, call a staff meeting. We need to decide how to proceed." "It's confirmed, Captain, this is definitely Earth, approximately 2000 B.C., old Earth calendar." The senior staff had assembled in the Briefing Room. Seetamyn had quickly brought everyone up to speed on what they had so far discovered, and then had asked B1 and B2, who had huddled over the Briefing Room science console to continue their researches during the Captain's preliminary comments, for additional confirmation. "Well, I fail to see the problem," Banjo spoke up. "Mantron and I can fly down in a shuttle, and land it close to the village, in the middle of the night. He can then beam me close to the Sphere. I run in, grab it, and make my way back to the shuttle. We fly back to the ship and return to our time." "Speaking of which, how we return to our time?" asked Mantron. The assembled officers seemed frozen for a second and then they all turned to Seetamyn who seemed completely unconcerned. "I am sure that the OverMind would not have overlooked something as critical as that. The answer will present itself once we have secured the Sphere. Presently, I'd like to examine Commander Banjo's proposal." "I see no major flaws with it. It allows us a quick, nearly foolproof, strike with little to no chance of contaminating the timeline," Thog offered. Looking around the table, Seetamyn noticed nods and, in one case, waving tentacles, indicating nearly universal approval of the Changeling's plan. It was that "nearly" that drew his attention, however. "You don't approve, Lieutenant?" he said, turning to his Helmsman. "Sir, I have no doubt that we could easily execute the plan laid out by Commander Banjo. However, I don't think that we would leave the timeline unchanged by our actions. The Sphere of Power is most likely the most incredible object that anyone on the planet has ever seen. I would expect that it is likely a badge of office if not an actual indication of divinity or at least of great power. If we just slip away with it, whomever currently owns it will probably be discredited or even put to death. Ancient Earth societies were brutally direct in dealing with fallen idols. I doubt that the elimination of such a person could be defended in front of the Temporal Oversight Commission." Silence greeted the Betazoid's speech as each of the senior staff looked around the table at each other, realizing that in their zeal to quickly complete this Quest, they had allowed themselves to be blinded to the possible consequences of their actions. Even Banjo seemed introspective. After several long seconds, Seetamyn spoke up, "Very well, it seems that you are determined to be our conscience, Lieutenant. What is your counter-proposal." "I'll go down on a scouting mission and determine what is going on. I can leave my commbadge in 'continuous transmit' mode, so that Zamtra can pull me out in case there is any trouble." "Send you down there alone? Out of the question!" came Thog's response. "What choice do we have?" Mantron asked. "The only other Betazoids on board are in Ships Services or the Science Departments. No one else is qualified for an away mission to ancient Earth." "I can accompany you," came Banjo's quiet reply. "It would not be the first time a Founder has masqueraded as a human." "So, we are left with a slight alteration of the original plan. Commander Banjo and Lieutenant Mantron will fly down in a shuttle and reconnoiter. We will then be able to make a more informed decision about how best to proceed. Are we all in agreement that this is our best course of action?" The room filled with 'Ayes' and the personnel filed out to make the preparations for the two officer's sojourn to humanity's birthplace. "We have detected several small bands of travelers headed towards the village where we assume the Sphere of Power is located," reported the musical tones of B1 and B2. "We are able to receive much better scanner information the further we focus away from the target village." "With multiple groups of strangers arriving, our infiltration team should have a much easier time blending in," mused Commander Thog. "That would certainly appear to be the case," agreed Seetamyn. "Is it possible to determine whether or not any of the groups have already arrived?" "Yes, sir. We estimate that three or four groups have already reached the village and another twelve are currently en route and will be arriving over the next 48 hours." "Excellent. Inform Lieutenant Mantron and Lieutenant Commander Banjo to be ready for departure within the hour. We will make sure that the team is inserted while other travelers are still to come. " The launch had gone off without a hitch. Dil Mantron, whose expertise at Helm was becoming legendary to the crew of the Menagerie, quickly brought the ShuttlePod Marlin Perkins down to the planet under cover of darkness. Locating a small thicket of overgrown bracken and small oak and ash trees, just to the north of the target village, Mantron put the craft into hover mode while Banjo opened the shuttle's hatch and used a phaser rifle to vaporize a few trees in the center of the thicket, cursing that they weren't using the Pod's weaponry. The tiny, easily concealed Type-16 ShuttlePod boasted twin Type IV Phasers, after all. Grudgingly, the Security Chief admitted that the weapons on the shuttlepod would likely have started a fire which would have drawn unwanted attention to the team. The tightly focused beam of his phaser rifle avoided this complication. Besides, hanging from an open hatch on a shuttle while firing a phaser rifle was a heck of a lot of fun! Who was that actor he had seen in some of the old-Earth archive films? Oh yes - Errol Flynn! So this was what swashbuckling felt like! Finally satisfied with his handiwork, Banjo re-entered the Marlin Perkins and closed the hatch. Mantron swiftly landed the craft in the tiny clearing, noting with satisfaction that the Changeling had left barely a meter of clearance around the craft. Banjo was just as adept with weaponry as he was with a Helm console. Now that they were on the ground, the plan called for them to hold tight until daybreak. With dawn's first light, they would exit the shuttle and verify that it was properly concealed, then pick some fresh oak leaves, holly and mistletoe with which they would adorn their primitive garments. They would then make their way to the village. The landing spot that they had selected was within three kilometers of the village, so they would arrive showing signs of having traveled without having to actually cover any great distance. While they waited for dawn, Mantron would program several emergency beamout sequences into the shuttle's computer in case either of the team needed to return quickly to the small craft. The close location, coupled with a couple of signal boosters would allow beamouts from the village back to the shuttle, although beaming with the Sphere would still be impossible. Since the landing location was outside of the interference zone of the supposed Sphere of Power, he would be able to even program a command code to transport them automatically back to the Menagerie from the shuttle. Hopefully, such an emergency measure wouldn't be needed, but Mantron had always believed that it was better to be safe than sorry. Mantron idly itched his 'woolen' robe. Even though it was composed of synthetic, replicated fabric, the tightly curled surface irritated his skin. Sperr had commented that with the state of pest control which was probably available in the primitive village, the itching would make the team seem even more authentic. Ustrano, Banjo and Sperr had laughed, but Mantron hadn't been amused. The lack of pants didn't help much, either. Oh well, that's what he got for volunteering. Banjo and Mantron reached the village early the next morning. Their examination of the shuttle had been satisfactory and, after decorating themselves with sprigs of local flora, they had made their way easily to the village in the cool, morning air. The sights and sounds which greeted them were exotic and unusual. They had both spent several hours on a holodeck to try to get prepared for the sensory assault. The only thing the holodeck had not prepared them for was the tremendous aroma which permeated the village. Neither crewmate had previously spent any time visiting primitive societies, so they were unprepared for the olfactory bombardment which greeted them. If the evidence of their senses was to be believed, the entire population of the village, including the animals, must have surely been incontinent! Not only the inhabitants, but the workplaces contributed to the miasmic atmosphere. Over there was a tannery, and there - a stable. A forge, burning peat, competed, quite successfully, with the ever-present sheep for the double-dip prize of noisiest odor-producers. Sights, sounds and smells were not the only sensory inputs assailing the two officers. The 'roads' consisted of the most remarkable mud either had ever experienced. Not only was it amazingly slippery, it also, inexplicably, stuck to whatever it touched. How a substance could combine extreme slipperiness with obstinate stickiness, was a mystery. They soon were questioning the wisdom of wearing white robes, even though the computer's ancient civilizations search had determined that the ruling classes at this time and place, in fact, wore that very color. All-in-all, it became increasingly unbelievable that these people had evolved to become the most powerful species in the Federation. The pair made their way towards the largest structure in the village. Finally reaching their destination, they entered what turned out to be a shrine. Inside were two, white-robed men arguing. One of the men was an older, severe-looking man with wisps of white hair radiating from his head, giving him the appearance of someone who was being electrocuted. The other man seemed to be barely in his twenties. Apparently making a final point, the older man shook his fist under the young man's nose and, turning on his heel, marched out of the shrine, pushing past the two Starfleeters. The younger man, a look of resignation and sadness on his face, seemed to notice the two newcomers for the first time. Wiping the distress from his face, he made his way over to them and greeted them as though they were long-lost friends, "Welcome! I'm so glad you could come. Please let me show you to suitable lodgings where you can meditate and prepare yourselves for the upcoming Ceremony. Food and water will be provided to you if you require it. The Ritual of Night will be held in the west grove, this evening. All the Druids will gather in this shrine for the observance procession this afternoon." He then started out of the shrine, leaving the two officers to quickly hurry after him. He lead them, after a short time, to a small hut surrounded by a grassy lawn. The hut was about 100 meters south of the village proper, perched partway up a slight incline. Several similar huts were nearby, spread across the hillside. Outside of several of the huts men could be seen dressed in either blue or white robes. The ever-present mud seemed to have been banished from this area and the Betazoid and Changeling gratefully stepped up on the firm footing. The aroma in this place was one of wildflowers and sunshine. The two inhaled deeply of the welcome change. Noticing their obvious appreciation, the young man spoke again, "As you have noticed, the Druid enclave is a bit more suitable to meditation than the village. By the way, I am Arlyn du Mach, Druid of the humble village of Salisbaerm and I, once again, welcome you to the Ceremony of Ascension." "I thank you," spoke up Mantron. "My companion and I are from the Nort Humberland where even in those remote parts, word of this momentous Ceremony has reached. I am Dil Mantron and this is Banjo." The young man nodded to each man and then spoke once again, "I am honored by your presence, friends from the north. Please refresh yourselves here, this afternoon. We will gather at the shrine when the sun begins to touch the earth, this afternoon." So speaking, the troubled, young Druid took his leave of the two aliens. The two crewmates made their way into the small hut and were surprised to find a clean, cheery room, inside. A clay cistern of fresh-looking water was in the corner and fresh rushes were spread on the floor. The walls were all clean and dry and the small hearth had even been scrubbed. A small fire burned merrily in the fireplace and a small pile of wood was neatly stacked nearby. A smaller room, contained two beds with (real) woolen blankets. Garlands of flowers decorated the living areas and the two men stared in wonder at the delightful prospect of being able to stay in this hut as opposed to being forced to find quarters in the village, itself. Suddenly Banjo's attention was drawn to an odd-looking object on the wall. A one-meter long blade of wickedly sharp metal was attached to an oddly curved, two-meter long wooden handle. The handle had two smaller handles growing out of it in unusual locations. Banjo made his way over to the oddity and gingerly took it down from the wall. As he tried to figure out how to manipulate it, his hands seemed to automatically find purchase around the handles and the odd device suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world to him. Stalking outside, he took a few experimental swings at the ankle-high grass around the hut. Wide swathes of grass fell to the swinging, twirling blade. Walking back into the hut with a grin on his face that threatened to split his head (literally), he struggled to control his glee and to get his human shape under control, "What is this marvelous weapon? This is the most wonderful hand weapon I have ever held!" "I haven't got a clue. Remember, that whole 'no humans on board' thing? Try a computer query," the Helmsman replied, trying to scrape the dried mud from his robe with limited success. Banjo sat down in one of the wicker chairs in the main room and quickly took out a small tricorder. The tricorder quickly established contact with the Shuttle Marlin Perkins and queried the small computer on board. All of the Menagerie's relevant data had been downloaded before the two officers had launched from the ship so that data could be on hand in the event that the interference from the Sphere of Power made communications with the Menagerie impossible. After scanning the database for a few moments Banjo let out a delighted "Gotcha!" Mildly interested, Mantron looked over as the beaming Security Chief looked up from the tricorder and said, "It's called a 'scythe'. It was mostly used for harvesting grain. I really don't understand Humans at all. They produce what was probably the best hand held weapon of all time and then use it to cut the grass. What idiotic behavior!" "Well, they had centuries to develop weaponry. If they decided that your scythe was only good for cutting grass, they must have had a good reason," said Mantron diplomatically. "Why are you always so reasonable? I know that you have had more than your share of bad treatment at the hands of Humans, yet you bend over backwards to excuse their inane behavior. Even back on the ship, you actually overruled the entire senior staff with your concern for these people who have all been dead for thousands of years. Are you really that noble or what?" Mantron could sense that beneath Banjo's semi-serious demeanor, there lurked a real thread of concern and curiosity. After thinking for a few moments to organize his thoughts, he replied, "Well, growing up, surrounded by telepaths, I was at a serious disadvantage. I could have become a rogue, lashing out at everyone, all the time. I could have become withdrawn and resentful, never allowing anyone close to me. I finally decided to try to be open and honest all the time and let people accept me for what I was. I truly learned to see every side to any issue so that I could be better able to perform in the world around me." "And that actually worked?" came the incredulous response. "Well no, not very well. So I eventually took up martial arts too," Mantron said with a grin. "Really? I didn't know that Betazed actually HAD any martial arts!" "It doesn't. Being able to read your opponent's mind during combat really pretty much defeats the purpose of hand-to-hand combat. I had to learn a Human martial art. I studied with holographic trainers for 12 years on Betazed. When I first started at Starfleet Academy I found a Human Master and studied under him while I was on Earth. Since then, I have used additional training programs on the Holodecks of the various ships that I have served on." "You've been studying martial arts for 23 years? You must be very highly ranked!" "Well, in Aikido, which is the form that I study, rankings aren't considered to be very important. 'The path is more important than the destination' as we say. But, if I WERE interested in rank, I would be a 12th level 'dan'. I don't believe that anyone else on board knows this." "Your 'secret' is safe with me, Lieutenant," chuckled the Changeling. "One of these days, if you would do me the honor, I would like to spar with you." "I'd be honored, myself, sir. Just don't bring that scythe with you," came the grinning reply. Both men laughed, then settled down to rest before the Ritual of Night, whatever that was. On board the Menagerie, in geo-stationary orbit above the primitive village of Salisbaerm, the crew was anything but bored. Seetamyn was spending his time coordinating the efforts of several of the Science Departments in gathering and analyzing sensor data. It was very rare for a starship to journey so far back in the past and several departments were making the most of this sojourn. Lieutenant Commander Ustrano was too busy to be bored, working with nearly the entire Engineering staff to re-wire and re-program the ship's shield generation grid so that switching back and forth between 'normal' shielding and Omega Configuration shielding could be accomplished by a simple console key-sequence from any bridge console. Commander Thog and Lieutenant Sperr had readied a second shuttlecraft which could be used in the event of an emergency, to go down to the planet an effect a rescue. After they had finished prepping the small ship, they had retired to a holodeck for a picnic. The two were fast becoming inseparable. Doctor Pish was dealing with the small scrapes, sprains and strains which seemed to be inevitable when there wasn't enough to do to keep the non-command crew busy. Lieutenant M'Dral was in her quarters practicing some meditation techniques that Captain Seetamyn had shown her to help her combat her nervousness in times of crisis. Linnea was in the Pirate's Cove discussing enhancements that could be made to the club with her HooLooVooean Maitre'd, Cerulean. Things were quiet on the Menagerie, and pretty much everyone was taking advantage of that fact. Too many of them had read other Star Traks stories where times of calm were usually followed by times of extreme, dangerous excitement! Meanwhile, back on Earth, Dil Mantron and Banjo were part of a procession of white- and blue-robed Druids, heading for the village shrine. The pair had on sparkling clean robes (Dil had transported back to the shuttle and replicated new garments for them) and were feeling refreshed. Dil had managed a brief nap and Banjo had had a six-hour regeneration cycle. The bright white of their robes seemed to shine incandescently in the low, late afternoon light as the procession finally reached the shrine. Inside they found Arlyn kneeling in front of small oak tree, which appeared to be growing from the floor of the shrine. The two had missed the tree on their earlier visit. Looking closer they realized that the shrine had actually been built around the tree, itself. They, along with the other Druids from the enclave, knelt beside Arlyn in obvious devout recognition of the tree. After several minutes of prayer the assembly rose and went to the rear of the shrine where a line of candles had been set up. Reverentially, each man took up a candle and made his way to the front of the shrine where Arlyn solemnly lit each one, saying a short prayer as he did so. When all of the Druids' candles had been lit, the procession headed out of the shrine and though the woods to the west of the village. After walking for about an hour, they came to a clearing in the woods. There stood the largest tree either of the two officers had ever seen. The line of Druids split apart, with some walking around the tree clockwise and the others moving widdershins. The group formed a circle around the massive tree and then knelt, facing the huge oak. A throaty, almost otherworldly chant began to rise from each of the Human Druids that the Betazoid and the Changeling found themselves subconsciously joining. The chanting went on for quite some time but no one ever grew hoarse or tired. It was almost as though a higher force was being invoked by the Ritual. Finally, after about half of the candles' 40 centimeter lengths had burned down, Arlyn rose. The rest of the assemblage rose after him and the procession returned to the village shrine. Returning their candles stumps to the back of the shrine and then bowing to the shrine's sapling on their way past, they all made their way back to their huts feeling strangely exhilarated by the evening's events. The two Starfleet officers entered their hut and, slightly awed by the Ritual that they had just participated in, headed off to bed without a word to each other. They quickly fell into a deep, restful slumber, even Banjo, who, having regenerated earlier, didn't need any rest. Early the next morning, the two men found themselves sitting in the main room's two wicker chairs discussing what had happened the previous evening. They were interrupted by a quiet tapping on their door and the subsequent arrival of Arlyn. He seemed to be undecided as to why he was there and what he wanted to say. Finally he seemed to gather his thoughts and courage and asked," "Just who exactly are you?" The two officers were momentarily taken aback. They hadn't spoken to anyone and they had stayed away from the villagers and the other Druids except for the Ritual. Before they could come up with an answer, the village Druid continued, "I mean, last night it seemed as though the communion with Silvanus was deeper and more profound than ever before. The only difference was that several new Druids had arrived, yesterday. Then it's pointed out to me that your robes were not even marked by kneeling on the ground at the Ritual of Night." The two glanced guiltily at their garments. though Mantron. Banjo thought about how to turn this to their advantage. Both he and Mantron had studied the database and were well versed in the Druidic religion. Then he realized that he was thinking too much like a good guy, again. ACTING like a good guy was fine for most situations, he realized, but sometimes one needed to THINK like a bad guy. Then he got an idea! An awful idea! Banjo got a wonderful, awful idea! Turning toward the confused, young Druid with an almost predatory grin on his face, he said, "Well, we should have realized that such a devout and pious young man, such as yourself, would discover us sooner or later," as he talked he moved closer to Arlyn, finally wrapping a comradely arm around his shoulders. "We are not actually from Nort Humberland, you see. We come from even further away than you can imagine. We have been sent here by Dagda, himself, to see to the success of the upcoming Ceremony." At this point Banjo had to stop speaking because Arlyn had prostrated himself on the floor between the two men. Mantron, understanding what Banjo was up to, quickly knelt down and raised the young man to his feet. "No, there are too many agents of evil about. You must not show us any undue consideration. Just act as though we were only mortal men while you are around us!" he cautioned the speechless Druid. "Once the Ceremony has been finished, he also wishes for us to retrieve an object that was mistakenly left here on Earth during one of the battles between DianCecht and Arawn. You see, in order to combat the Lord of the Dead, the physician, DianCecht had brought one of the stars down from the sky to shine its light in all the dark places of Arawn's Underworld. Being successful, Dagda's son inadvertently left the StarStone behind. Dagda informed us that you have the StarStone in your possession," gambled Banjo. He figured that if anyone in this mud hole would have the Sphere, it would be the local Druid. "Why, yes, Divine Ones. I have the glowing StarStone of which you speak. It is the fact that I DO have the Stone that I have been chosen for the Ceremony of Ascension. I will be married to Princess Gwri and then the two of us will Ascend to unite our people forever. Unfortunately, until this time, the Gods have not answered my prayers to meet the betrothal requirements and, I must admit, I had begun to lose my faith. Truly wondrous are the way of the Gods, to come to me at my time of direst need!" and he moved to prostrate himself again, but the two others stopped him. Thinking of how he could subtly ask what these 'betrothal requirements', Banjo was surprised when Mantron simply asked the young Druid, "What, exactly are these requirements of which you speak?" Banjo thought. He was surprised when Arlyn, responding to the Betazoid's compassionate demeanor, simply answered the question, "I must create a Lunar Calendar on the plains just north of the village to prove that I am the favored one of the Gods. It must be completed in two days. If I do not complete the Calendar, Gwri's father will force her to marry Kern. Kern is an evil man. He will use the influence so gained to revert our people away from the Gods and back to the worship of the Old Ones - the Demons who walked among us before the Gods gave their Divine Light to us." "That was the old man who was arguing with you yesterday?" asked Mantron. "Yes, yes," cried Arlyn, apparently amazed at the evidence of unearthly powers displayed by guessing someone's name correctly. "He and his cult of followers have a small enclave set up exactly where the Calendar must be constructed. He is determined to divide the Celts and destroy Britannia." "Do you, by any chance have a drawing of what this Calendar should look like?" Banjo inquired. "Yes, of course! In fact, I actually have a small model! Please come with me to my house and I'll show you!" The young Druid seemed to be certain that now that the Gods had shown that they were on his side, that everything would be fine. Mantron was having slightly different thoughts. He remembered that the data they had read about this time period had mentioned some sort of astrometric predictor being built around here, and, if memory served, it was a massive stone circle. He couldn't quite remember the name of the thing right now, but he had a feeling that he and Banjo had just been drafted to complete the quickest construction project in history! The trio arrived at Arlyn's house, which was, unsurprisingly, next door to the shrine, and he ushered them inside. The two off-worlders' attention was immediately drawn to a small, glowing orb, sitting on the fireplace mantle. The orb was approximately twenty centimeters in diameter and it glowed with a bright, white-blue luminance. Noticing their stares, Arlyn grinned and said, "I see you have found your lost StarStone. You are welcome to it, but please wait until after the Ceremony to take it. If it goes missing now, Kern will try to use that as a sign that I have fallen out of favor with the Gods and have me killed." The two drew their eyes from the Sphere and turned to the small display set up on the room's only table. The display consisted of two concentric circles of stone blocks, the outer circle being composed of much larger blocks than the inner one. The outer circle of blocks was capped by a continuous lintel of cross-pieces. The inner circle consisted of pairs of upright stones with each pair having an independent cap. On closer examination, it appeared that the inner circle was actually in more of a 'horseshoe' shape. Mantron and Banjo recognized the design immediately. The Lunar Calendar was Stonehenge! Banjo and Mantron had returned to their shuttle that evening to discuss their options. Fortunately, it had turned out that the Ritual of Night was only performed once a week, so the rest of the time remaining before the Ceremony of Ascension was their own. They had established communications with the Menagerie and let everyone know that they had found the first Sphere of Power and would be able to secure it within two days. At Banjo's insistence, Mantron had specifically not informed the rest of the command staff of the specifics of that securing. After signing off from the ship, Mantron had remained in the forward cockpit, calculating how they could manage to cut out and transport the massive stone blocks which would form Arlyn's 'Lunar Calendar'. Banjo was in the back area working on his scythe, which now accompanied him everywhere. He had already coated the handles with a molecule-thick layer of duranium, rendering it virtually unbreakable. Now he was replacing the blade with an ultra-sharp length of hull metal that he had replicated and then shaped with his phaser rifle. Finally satisfied with his handiwork, he took a couple of experimental swings. Unfortunately, the cramped main compartment of the Marlin Perkins proved to be too tight for him to properly swing the awkward weapon. He did, however, eviscerate two ferocious chairs and take a slice out of the innocent ceiling before he decided that the weapon was sufficiently improved to suit his needs. As he was surveying the results of his Titanic battle against the furniture, Mantron came to the back with a frown on his face, "Assuming that we want to have the construction seem to be an act of the Gods, and to have it done overnight, the hand weapons that we have are just not powerful enough to do the job. We will need the Menagerie's tunneling phasers to even have a chance of success." "So, call up Ustrano and explain the situation," came Banjo's reply. "I'm sure he'll be happy to help." "Do you really think I should bypass the captain?" came the Betazoid's uncertain response. "You're not bypassing the captain," assured Banjo. "This isn't a command problem. It's an engineering problem. Therefore the logical solution is to consult the Engineering Department. Furthermore, the Chief Engineer turns out to be a good friend of yours, making the solution doubly effective," Banjo said in a nearly perfect imitation of the Menagerie's Vulcan captain. Mantron laughed, "I guess you're right, sir. We can handle this on our own." With that, he headed back to the front of the tiny ship to coordinate the construction project details with his Velvattian friend. Full night had fallen when the pastoral stillness was broken by a terrible howling from outside the Marlin Perkins. A great hunting horn keened its plaintive bass note across the countryside and the baying of what seemed like twenty huge hounds echoed after it. Banjo went into the forward cockpit where Mantron had turned on the external cameras. The image that appeared on the viewscreen was not a good one to see just before going to bed. A huge man with antlers growing from his head and a pack of twenty huge wolf-like hounds was currently surrounding the shuttlecraft. As they watched, the antler-headed man raised his hunting horn to his lips and blew another rumbling note that seemed to vibrate right through the hull and rattle the two men like teeth in the mouth of a freezing man. Mantron turned to Banjo with a look combining awe, fear and disbelief all at the same time, "That must be Cernunnos, the Master of the Wild Hunt!" "Well, based on the database's descriptions, I'd have to agree with you," came Banjo's incredulous reply. "But what is he doing here?" "Well, if I remember the legends correctly, The Wild Hunt appears at the outskirts of a town and runs into the wilderness in order to hunt down evil. Anyone who gets in its way must either join the Hunt, kill the Huntsman and his dogs, or be killed by them. The Hunt must have materialized to go after Kern, but it came across us, first. Now, Cernunnos expects us to join him or fight him!" A look of pure unadulterated joy sprang to Banjo's face as Mantron finished. "Lieutenant, continue your consultation with Lieutenant Commander Ustrano. This is a Security matter!" and, so saying, he went to the back, retrieved his scythe and stepped outside. Mantron started at the viewscreen in horrified fascination. One thing was for sure - this little thicket was about to become very, very messy! Banjo stepped away from the shuttle and stood with his scythe held casually in his hands. The antlered figure, Cernunnos, pointed at him and then pointed to the north. In reply, Banjo pointed straight up. He used a different finger than was normally associated with pointing, however. Cernunnos, seeming to instinctively understand the gesture, smiled and sounded his horn, once again. Instantly the huge dogs moved to surround Banjo. Instead of backing up against the shuttle, Banjo moved forward, stepping several meters away from the Marlin Perkins and, coincidentally, moving into a spot relatively free of underbrush and trees. Suddenly, four of the slavering beasts leapt at the Changeling. With an amazingly inhuman speed Banjo twirled his new and improved scythe in a broad circle. Eight pieces of dog fell about him, and, as they hit the ground, evaporated as though they had been composed of nothing more than mist. Banjo's smile grew even wider. Then everything was chaos as the remaining sixteen dogs all lunged forward at the same time and Cernunnos jumped forward, unsheathing a large two-handed sword. Banjo's scythe wove impossible patterns through the night. It seemed to Mantron that not even the Changeling knew where the blade would be appearing next. Foe after foe literally melted away from the insane onslaught until only Cernunnos was left. It seemed as though the battle up to that point had been no more than a warmup, an undercard to the heavyweight bout. With a shower of sparks from the colliding metal, scythe met sword again and again as each attack was parried and each parry turned into a counter-attack. After nearly fifteen minutes of the non-stop barrage, the two combatants stepped back to re-evaluate their opponent. It was then that Banjo administered his coup de grace - his arm shot out to a length of three meters and punched Cernunnos in the face. Seemingly stunned by this event, the huge man stumbled backwards and Banjo was upon him. In thirty seconds the fight was over, Cernunnos was a rapidly dispersing mist, like his dogs had become. His horn and sword disappeared with him, but, oddly enough, his antlers remained behind. Delighted, Banjo reached down and claimed his trophy. Turning from the battlefield, the Security Chief casually made his way back into the shuttle. Inside he found his companion staring at him with his mouth wide open. "Yes, Lieutenant?" Banjo asked, smugly. "Bu, bu, bu, but ... there were twenty savage dogs! ... and that huge man! ... and he had a sword!" the Betazoid seemed to have been knocked completely off balance by the display of violence he had just witnessed. "Lieutenant, Dil, please understand. My people didn't just decide one day to take over the Gamma Quadrant. We Founders made war on the entire population, dozens of species, hundreds of planets before we were successful in assuming rulership. We are no more just our shape-changing abilities than Betazoids are just their telepathic abilities - as you, yourself, so ably demonstrate." "You are right, sir, of course. I am sorry." "There's nothing to apologize for, my friend. You bought into the story that we made sure was circulated throughout the Dominion War. Always keep your enemies in the dark about your full abilities. Since we are now allies, such subterfuges are no longer needed." And, wrapping a friendly arm around his companion, he continued, "Tell me, what progress has been made on your end?" "Well, I have communicated the parameters of the operation to Lieutenant Commander Ustrano. He was going to run some simulations and get back to us with a course of action." "Very well. That will likely take some time. We should probably try to get some sleep as it looks like tomorrow will likely be a bit busy." The two men transported back to their hut (they had secreted a transporter beacon there to overcome the Sphere's interference) where Mantron fell fast asleep. Banjo lovingly caressed his scythe for a bit and then he melted into his regenerative state, flowing into a large pan that he had hidden beneath his bed for just that purpose. Early the next morning (at cock's crow to be exact) the two men were awakened by Arlyn. They had decided the day before that they would tour the actual site for Arlyn's Lunar Calendar on the plains to the north of the village. The two officers had an ulterior motive for this morning's visit, however. In the middle of the night, Mantron had received a message from Ustrano requesting data on the soil composition of the construction site. Mantron had hidden a specially-programmed tricorder in an inner pocket in his scratchy robe which would uplink the data as he scanned the soil, later that day. They were surprised to find a slight, blonde woman with him. Noting their surprise, the young Druid said, "This is Princess Gwri. Hopefully, with your help, she will be my bride at sunset, tomorrow." The two Starfleeters introduced themselves and the quartet headed out into the crisp morning air. Autumn was just beginning in earnest and the local oak trees' colorful leaves lent a festive air to the trip. A light riming of frost made the grass and fallen leaves crunchy and the group made its way north accompanied by the sounds of a tour group sitting down to a breakfast of Rice Crispies. Banjo had brought his scythe with him, a fact which neither Arlyn nor Gwri deemed unusual. In fact Arlyn, himself, carried a sickle and the Princess a long, curved dagger. Remembering that the site was also home to Kern and his minions, Mantron had armed himself with a stout, oak cudgel. After walking for a couple of hours, the forest seemed to thin out and the four found themselves overlooking a wide, grassy plain. In the middle of the plain a shallow depression had been excavated by some forgotten people in the past. This depression would be the building site for the Lunar Calendar. Already present in the depression were several rude tents and haphazard lean-toes. Disheveled men wandered around, negligently tending to a communal campfire. About 20 men seemed to as much animal as human with filthy, matted hair and beards and dirty, ragged clothing. Apparently, Kern did not attract the best in Celtic society. Soon, Arlyn spotted the crazed leader, himself, and pointed him out to the others. This was hardly necessary as Kern's amazing, Bride-of-Frankenstein hair easily identified him. Heading down towards the dip (the depression - not Kern) the friends tightened their grips on their weapons. Although the motley crew below them did not appear to be armed, their sheer numbers could prove troublesome. Kern came to the edge of his camp as they approached, although whether his intentions were to scare off the party or simply to greet them was uncertain. Nodding a greeting at the cult leader, Arlyn simply turned and continued to walk around the shallow, circular hole. Kern seemed to be satisfied that they would not venture into his domain and sniffed, disdainfully as he returned to his followers. Banjo, sharing a glance with Mantron asked Arlyn about the history of the depression and the young Druid happily related the local folklore about its construction. Momentarily forgotten, Mantron knelt down and surreptitiously activated his tricorder, aiming it at the ground. After several nervous minutes, the device beeped, indicating that the analysis and upload were complete. Quickly stashing the device back in its secret pocket, the Helmsman hurried back to his friends. Fortunately, the young Druid was not as longwinded as Captain Seetamyn and was just wrapping up his discussion with Banjo. Nodding at the Changeling, Mantron indicated that his mission had been successful. "Well, we've seen enough," Banjo said, wrapping up the tour. "We want to thank you for taking the time to give us this tour." "It was no trouble at all," assured Arlyn and Gwri. Arlyn led the group away on a slightly different path than the one that they had used for their approach. The reason for this soon became evident when he brought them to a large blackberry patch. The four spent a restful midday break gorging themselves on the juicy, tart fruits, before continuing back to Salisbaerm. Bidding the officers farewell and good luck the young couple headed back to visit with Gwri's parents, minor royalty who controlled the eastern part of the country. Mantron remembered Arlyn's hope to unite the country under the enlightened rule of the Druids. Hurrying back to their hut, the Starfleeters activated their transporter recall codes and were instantaneously beamed back to the Marlin Perkins. There they found good news; Ustrano had finished its calculations and had come up with a plan. Even better, the Menagerie's study of the weather systems nearby had determined that there would be a dense fog tonight. Downloading Ustrano's instructions and the automatic programs for the shuttle took only a few minutes. The entire operation had been programmed and the shuttle would be on full automatic throughout the process. Coordination between the shuttle and the Menagerie's computer would ensure that the shuttle wouldn't accidentally blunder into the path of one of the ship's tunneling phasers. Banjo and Mantron would be along for the ride, just in case anything went wrong and operator intervention was required. Satisfied that the programming was complete, the two men settled down to wait for darkfall, Banjo again sharpening his scythe. Mantron again reviewed the programming for the evening's exercises. It was nearly time for the pair to swing into action. Well, supervision, anyway. The Menagerie would begin carving out the stone blocks from the Marlborough Downs, twenty miles from the Salisbaerm Plains as soon as full night had fallen. Following a carefully calculated course, the Marlin Perkins would grab each fifty-ton block in its tractor beam and carry it to the drop site. From an attitude of 12,000 feet, the shuttlecraft would release its hold on the block, which would fall and embed itself into the chalky soil of the Plain. If Ustrano's calculations were correct, approximately four meters of each block would remain above the ground, the rest anchoring the unwieldly stone firmly into the ground of the Plain. After all the vertical blocks had been dropped, the cross pieces would have to be moved on top of the blocks with considerably more delicate actions. Placing the thirty stones required for this portion of the Calendar would require most of the night. Finally, the inner circle of much smaller blocks would be created. Material for these stones would have to come from the Prescelly Mountains, some 240 miles away from the drop site. Since these blocks were much lighter, the Marlin Perkins would be able to move ten at a time. This still meant that the tiny shuttle would be making eight round trips with these, smaller blocks. They would be racing the dawn to finish the project. Suddenly, the lights of the control console in front of him lit up and Mantron knew that the mission was underway. Sensing the craft's motion, Banjo came forward and took the seat next to the lieutenant. The Betazoid had already punched up the sensor system's image enhancement capabilities to the maximum to allow the two to see what was happening on the ground, below them, even through the pea-soup-thick fog. The Menagerie would be using tunneling phasers operating at infrared frequencies so that the cutting beams would be invisible to anyone who happened to be in the area. For this reason Mantron had called up the IR overlays on the viewscreen so that they could also keep an eye on these potentially deadly raybeams. Not that he expected anything to go wrong, but just in case it did, he would at least be able to see what he needed to avoid. Without any warning, the shuttle came to a stop. A light on the console lit, indicating the activation of the shuttle's tractor beam. The ship then shot skyward, yanking a block free from the surrounding strata. Achieving an altitude of 12,000 feet, the shuttle resumed level flight and made its way to the depression the officers had visited earlier in the day. Arriving in its preprogrammed position, the ship released the tractor beam and the massive sandstone block fell down through the fog. Mantron and Banjo turned their attention to the viewscreen. When they saw what was on the screen they didn't know what to do. There, centered in the target crosshairs was Kern! He seemed to be wildly exhorting his followers to increase their vigilance on this, the final night before the Ceremony of Ascension. As they watched, their eyes frozen to the screen, the frothing cult leader was suddenly obliterated by the huge stone monolith from the sky. Kern's body was completely buried by the block, with no evidence remaining that he had ever been there on the Salisbaerm Plain. Seeing their leader being struck dead by a stone, apparently cast down from heaven by the Gods, his former followers suddenly decided that maybe Druidism wasn't so bad after all. The stunned silence in the shuttle cockpit was broken by Banjo's hearty laughter, "Well, he certainly got what was coming to him," he managed to gasp out between gales of laughter. After several minutes, Mantron overcame his shock and started laughing with the Security Chief. Soon the two had tears streaming down their faces. Then they had to wrap their arms around each other's shoulders to keep from falling out of their seats. They were broken from their hilarity by the abrupt jerking of the shuttle. Mantron yanked himself back to the status console, fearing that something had gone wrong, but relaxed when he realized that it was just the sudden ascent of the Marlin Perkins tugging free another stone. The pattern was repeated (sans fanatic squishing) for the next eight hours. The two fell into a kind of stupor, lulled by the quietly beeping panels and hypnotically blinking lights. Mantron roused himself as the ship was finishing its fifth set of smaller blocks, composed of bluestone from the distant mountains. The fog was certainly helping. With about ninety minutes of work to go, it appeared as though the fog would delay the dawn for at least another two hours. They would have time to finish, return the shuttle to its concealment in the thicket just to the north of the village, and get settled into their beds in their hut, before anyone would be up and around. The plans for the great day called for feasting through much of the morning, in any event, before the ceremonial procession to the Plains. Had the Menagerie not been thrust back in time, the procession would have ended with the death of Arlyn and with Kern being installed as the de facto spiritual leader of all the Celtic people. Now, there would be a joyous wedding and Arlyn and Gwri would usher their people into a new era. Mantron settled back in his seat with a satisfied smile on his face. Exactly ninety-two minutes later, the control console of the Marlin Perkins emitted a squealing buzz. Banjo and Mantron immediately sprang fully awake to see Ustrano's waving tentacles on the viewscreen. The huge Velvattian chuckled at the guilty visages of his two fellow officers. "Just thought I'd let you two slackers know that the construction project is completed. It appears to have been a complete success. Get yourselves back under cover and retrieve that Sphere so that we can get on out of here. Ustrano out." Mantron quickly switched the controls back to manual and swung the shuttle back to 'their' thicket. Again, he dropped it down precisely in the middle the cleared area. Shutting down the main systems, Mantron and Banjo secured the craft and then activated the transport sequence that would take them back to their hut. Once there, they packed up the transport beacon and removed any traces that their advanced technology had ever been there. Banjo had already secured his scythe in the shuttle and insisted that he would be taking back with him. Dawn had fully broken by the time that they finished their clean up, but the fog had reduced the light to merely a pearly glow, radiating from the east. Sunlight or no, it wasn't long before the pair were summoned to the Ascension Feast. When they arrived at the outdoor feast, which was being held in a meadow a few hundred yards west of the village. Large, rough-hewn trestle tables had been set up and huge fires provided the heat to roast several pigs, ducks, chickens and sheep. Vegetables of various descriptions were also available. Berries, apples, pears, quinces, persimmons, grapes and other fruits were in abundance. Wine and mead flowed freely and the villagers had apparently even bathed for this momentous occasion. Banjo cynically observed that maybe the celebration was to commemorate the fact that they HAD bathed, but Mantron ignored him and dedicated himself to having a good time. He had been mistreated so many times by humans in the past that being able to just be himself (in a manner of speaking) and have everyone enjoy his company, as he enjoyed their's, was a welcome change of pace for him. Banjo, for his part, contented himself with sampling a little bit of each of the foods available, savoring this nice vacation from replicated food. The feast continued until mid afternoon when Arlyn and Gwri joined the festivities. The couple was required to fast on this day of days, a tradition that Mantron found rather strange. Resplendent in their wedding finery, the couple welcomed all the Druids from who had traveled from afar to witness the Ceremony. They also thanked the villagers for choosing to join them in this joyous celebration. After the welcoming speeches, the pair linked arms and started off towards the Plains to the north east. If they were in any way tense or apprehensive about what they would find at their destination, they certainly hid it well. Mantron could detect nothing except an air happiness and satisfaction about the couple. The wedding parade made its way through the woods, those revelers who had partaken a bit too freely of the wine and mead tended to wander off course, now and then, and had to be rounded up by the (slightly) more sober participants. The morning fog had almost completely burned away by the time the procession cleared the woods, late in the afternoon. The couple stopped dead in their tracks and the rest of the celebrants were forced to detour around the couple, until they, too, caught sight of the cause of the interruption. There, down on the Plain, the last of the day's fog clinging to them, stood the massive hulks of Arlyn's Lunar Calendar. A resounding cheer went up from the crowd as, throwing decorum to the winds, the entire congregation broke into a sprint. Reaching the Calendar, which seemed to have dropped from the sky as a complete whole, right on top of Kern's camp, individuals broke from the main group to wander in wonder amongst the massive columns of stone. Arlyn walked over to the two offworlders, extending his hands in thanks, "Not that I had any doubts, but this wondrous achievement is almost beyond belief. I cannot thank you enough, my two friends." He then reached behind his back, retrieving a small leather bag, closed with a rawhide drawstring. "I believe that this is yours," and so saying, he walked away. Opening the bag, slightly, Banjo saw the glow of the first Sphere of Power. Looking back up he caught Mantron's eagerly inquisitive look and nodded. Taking notice of their surrounding again, the two noticed that everyone else was busy gathering wildflowers and piling them in the center of twin circles of stone. Banjo and Mantron looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and joined in with the gathering. As darkness descended, and the gathering stopped, the crowd dispersed to the open ring between the two circles. Candles were distributed to each of the Druids, who were spread out enough among the commoners, that their candles' illumination provided enough light to clearly make out what was happening in the center. Arlyn and Gwri were led, smiling to the bed of flowers, where they lay down, holding each other's hands. Mantron was a bit embarrassed. he thought. As he was seriously considering just slipping away under the cover of darkness, an old man, who Mantron had seen earlier, during the Ritual of Night, stepped forward and knelt between the couple. Mantron had noticed how the other Druids had deferred to the man, and assumed him to be the ranking Druid. His assumption seemed to be accurate, as it appeared that the old Druid would be presiding over the wedding ceremony. "Are you ready, my son?" the old Druid asked kindly. "I am, milord," came the unwavering reply. "And are you ready, my daughter?" he then asked Gwri. "Oh yes, milord," came her firm reply. "Then, I proclaim this Ceremony of Ascension a success!" the Old Druid shouted, suddenly whipping a curved, silver dagger from beneath his robe and plunging it into Arlyn's chest. Quickly ripping the blade out of the dying body, he then brought it back down into the center of Gwri's chest. Mantron broke from his chagrinned immobility and would have jumped forward to attack the old Druid, but Banjo quickly extended his arms to wrap around his friend. When Mantron realized that he couldn't break the Changeling's grip, his anger broke, only to be replaced with deep, debilitating grief. Sobs wracked his body as all the strength seemed to drain from him. Banjo switched from restraining to supporting his friend at this point. Looking around he saw not terror, sadness or despair on the other faces in the crowd. Even Gwri's father seemed inordinately pleased by the outcome. Banjo was again amazed by the perverse barbarity of the human race, until he focused his attention back to the old Druid. "The best of our land have now Ascended to the hall of the Gods. Here their now-divine guidance will instruct our united peoples in all our future endeavors. Blessed are we to have been fortunate to witness this Divine Ceremony of Ascension." Banjo now understood. These people believed that Arlyn and Gwri had sacrificed their mortal forms in order to become some sort of intermediaries between the Celts and their Gods. He was suddenly hit by the bravery of the young couple, giving up everything for the good of their people. He wondered if he would be able to make such a sacrifice if called upon to do so. He decided that this was not the best time to mull over this. He had to get Mantron and the Sphere back to the shuttle and then to the ship. Pulling the still-sobbing Mantron away from the disturbing dichotomy of joy and beauty mingling with brutal death, he began the long trek back to the more mundane world of the future. For the first time, the thought that maybe not having a Counselor on board wasn't such a great idea, crossed his mind. "He's resting comfortably," said Doctor Pish, turning from Mantron's sleeping form to talk to Banjo and Seetamyn. Banjo had managed to half drag, half carry the nearly comatose Betazoid back to the Marlin Perkins. While still under cover of night, he had taken off and flown back to the ship. While not anywhere near the pilot that Mantron was, he was familiar enough with the operation of Federation shuttles to at least get close enough to the Menagerie's shuttlebay for Lieutenant Sperr to be able to tractor the tiny ship back to its berth in the bay. Banjo had radioed ahead with the Lieutenant's condition, and as soon as the shuttle had docked, Banjo had hurried as far away from it as he could with the Sphere so that Ensign Zamtra could do a site-to-site transport of the stricken Betazoid directly to Sickbay. Lieutenant Commander Ustrano had wanted to rush to its friend's side, but the relatively cramped space in Sickbay prevented his being able to be in attendance. Banjo had opened a comm channel to him so they he could listen in to the tiny doctor's diagnosis. "I've administered a minor sedative to keep him knocked out for a while. Right now rest is going to help him more than anything else. Unfortunately, with no counselor on board, he's going to have to work through this incident mostly on his own." "No Jantoo," Banjo disagreed. "Ustrano and I will be by his side with this. Dil's a strong man. The sudden loss of a man who had been his friend, even though he had only known him for a short time, was just too much for him. He probably feels guilty about the whole affair, too. It was, after all, his idea to go down and get to know the villagers. Soon he'll see that because of his idea both Arlyn and the Menagerie were able to complete their tasks. Acceptance will just take time." "You may be right. I certainly hope so," Doctor Pish said, taking Banjo's hand and giving it a slight squeeze. Banjo and Seetamyn left Sickbay, headed for the Bridge. The two walked in silence for a while until the Vulcan spoke, "Commander, when you first came on board, I had serious reservations about your qualifications to serve in the capacity of Chief of Security aboard a Starfleet vessel. After our first several missions together I find myself in the rather unusual position of having to offer you an apology. You have handled yourself with decorum, compassion and competence. I have served with many fully accredited Starfleet officers who would not have done half so well in your position. I also believe that I may have been remiss in never truly welcoming you aboard as part of this crew. That being the case, I must take this opportunity to say 'Welcome Aboard!'." "Captain, when I came aboard, I honestly had nothing but disdain for Starfleet officers in general and for humans in particular. While my opinions of human beings in general has had little reason to change, I can now truly say that my respect for, at least SOME, Starfleet crews has grown immeasurably. It has been an honor to serve under you, sir." The two men reached the Bridge with a new respect for each, and the two quickly assumed their stations. Seetamyn had been given the leather bag with the Sphere of Power by Banjo when the two had met in the corridor, on the way to Sickbay. Sperr had taken Mantron's position at Helm. Seetamyn loosed the drawstring on the bag and withdrew the Sphere. As he held it in his hand, examining it, a collective gasp slipped from the rest of the Bridge crew. On the viewscreen, a vast, swirling, whirlpool of energy had appeared. Looking up from the Sphere at the cause of the excitement, Seetamyn remarked, "Well, that answers the question of how we return to the Foreenan System. Lieutenant Sperr, set course for that phenomenon, space normal speed." The Menagerie slid slowly forward, into the whirlpool like a silver sliver of soap going down the bathtub drain. Between the tick of now and the tock of then, the ship was transported across time and space, back to the fragmented planetoids that made up Foreena Four. As soon as they arrived, the presence of the OverMind was once again felt, "Success! I/We cannot even begin to describe the joy I/we feel at this auspicious beginning!" Suddenly the Sphere in Seetamyn's hand dissolved. "I/We have installed the Sphere in its rightful location. The portal to the Second Quest will open momentarily. I/We wish you continued good luck in fulfilling the Quests!" The process which had opened the first portal was repeated. This time, there seemed to be even more energy spewed forth from the planetoids, as though they, too, were excited over the Menagerie's first success. The new vortex seemed to spin even faster than the first one had, and then the quicksilver-like disk, it too spinning faster, appeared. Once again the orders were given, and the ship slipped away into infinity! TO BE CONTINUED...