STARFIGHTER! The Iconoclasts
Chapter 3
By: Tom Sczepkowski
With
editing and clean-up by: Frederick P. Kopetz
Copyrights: STAR TREK is © 2004 by
Paramount Pictures, Inc. STAR BLAZERS is © 2004 by Voyager International, and, STAR
WARS is © 2004 by Lucasfilm, Ltd. GARGOYLES is © 2004 by Disney Entertainment.
The Technomugar Empire is © 2004 by Frederick P. Kopetz and is mentioned here
by the author's permission. All original elements of this tale are © 2004 by
Tom Sczepkowski. All rights reserved, not to be copied without the author's
permission.
After
earning the rank of Lieutenant through a field promotion, Starsha T. Corsair
jogged across the Nancy Hedford bridge crossing the
Since she
was between assignments and since her last combat engagement against the Jem
Haddar was so heavy, she needed time to clear her mind. Then, of course, there was the transmission
from her “Aunt.” So much controversy diminished her capacity to use the Force,
so three days at her father’s house in the mountains was just the thing for
her. The house was spacious yet quaint;
it had been designed and built by her father.
Her father
was foremost on her mind as she entered the house and petted Belinda. Belinda
was a timber wolf rescued by her father while he was on Earth one day visiting
family. She stopped to realize that she never knew any of her mother's family;
it was as if she was hiding something. She resented her for that, among other
things, but felt bad that their last words had been an argument over her
decision to enlist in the Star Fleet Marines. She closed her eyes and thought
deeply about that last argument between her and her mother. They were always
angry with each other, with her father always trying to be the peace maker.
Feeling troubled, she walked into her father's bedroom. It was a unique room
with a bowed out window and an electron telescope permanently mounted on the
floor. After looking at the scientific equipment, she walked out onto the
balcony and gazed into the great
She went
back inside and flopped down on the bed looking at all of the old-style framed
pictures on the wall. They were mostly of the Dantes family with a few pictures
of Astra. The Dantes family was large indeed; it included some notorious
figures in history as well as others who were more reserved but just as
important. She embraced
both her human and Gargoyle heritages, even though they have been
at war through most of History.
Thomas
Dantes, who was the first picture on the wall, was human. Really, he was a nobody. He was also the first of the Force-sensitive
empaths in the family…gaining his power from an accident when he came into
contact with a unknown chemical. The alien-looking man who was standing next to him in the picture, although
not part of the family but still just as important to them, was Nokkar. Nokkar
was a Jedi Knight sent thousands of years ago to Earth from another galaxy to
defend the Earth from an invasion by the evil Galactic Empire. He was a mentor
and teacher who taught Thomas the discipline of the Force; and Vaught and
Starsha. Through that discipline, he became one of the most powerful business
men of the twenty-first century. It was then that the Gargoyle in the second
picture came into play. Today she is known as Admiral Destine, the chief of
operations of Starfleet Command; recently appointed as Starfleet Commander.
Then, she was known as Demona, a vicious human-hating Gargoyle bent on
destroying the human race, which she now protected.It was Thomas’s patience and
belief in her that calmed her as well as the person in the next picture which
Starsha smiled at with affection.
He had an
interesting story. A corrupt self-seeking colonel by the name of Green
attempted to create a Force-sensitive being whom
Thomas Dantes called Starfighter by cloning Dantes. Green used one Doctor Anton
Severious, who was successful in the art of cloning. Severious took DNA samples
from Thomas Dantes and mated them in a controlled environment with DNA taken
from Demona. The result would become Starsha's grandfather Creighton. Thomas
decided to consider him as his son, and so did Demona.
Then,
Starsha looked at a picture of Creighton’s wife Melisande Corsair…who was also a Gargoyle clone. Melisande was
unique as well. She was a gifted singer and musician, and she made sure that
musical talents were taught to her three children and to Starsha. Here, the true tragic history of the Dantes
family began to come into play. Thomas, who was only human, was diagnosed with
cancer in his nineties. Not wanting to die a prolonged, lingering death in
weakness and pain, he took his private jet and headed out over the ocean just
days before Zefram Cochran’s very first warp flight…which he helped finance.
Then, first contact was made with the Vulcans.
Destine aka
Demona, always remarked how he helped with the birth of the Federation and how
she wished that he could have seen the great human adventure begin…but she
helped silently with the architecture of the Federation. However, only in the
last forty years did she become involved with Starfleet along with her
grandparents…who at the same time decided to start their own family.
She never
knew why they waited almost 400 years to begin a family. Nor were Destine or
Thomas Dantes married….but Starsha considered the look in her eyes. She knew
she loved him and not a day had gone by in 400 years that Destine didn’t think
of Thomas. How utterly tragic…how utterly romantic.
There weren’t many Gargoyles left now. Most have died during the nuclear war of
World War III. Some were to believed to have left for a place called
Avalon…Starsha never understood what is was…perhaps it
was their version of heaven or something?
Starsha
glanced at the next picture, a picture of the eldest daughter of Melisande and
Creighton. She was very beautiful with long golden hair and seemed very gentle.
She was hugging a small boy no more than eight years old. The boy was her
younger brother, Vaught…Starsha's father… who was laughing and seemed to be
happy. That picture was the only time that Starsha ever saw her father looking
so happy. Her father never spoke of his sister that often, and neither did the
rest of the family. All Starsha knew is that her father's elder sister took
care of her father when he was a child during the first Cardassian war over
thirty years ago when the Cardassians took
Creighton and Melisande hostage. The rest was hazy to Starsha…All that
she knew is what Destine told her…that she gave her life for Vaught when her
planet…called Telezart…was devastated in an interstellar war.
The next picture…Starsha
remembered giving to her father in person. It was of both of them, father and
daughter, in their dress Starfleet Marine Uniforms. Starsha sighed as she gently touched the photo of the
handsome decorated solider whom she admired and wanted to be like in every way
possible. Her father Vaught Rockwell Corsair was a prodigy…a complete genius
like his own father in engineering, and a brilliant pianist and musician like
his mother. He spoke over 70 languages, and was a brilliant warrior and Starfighter,
a great adept, commanding the power of the Force as if it was his own hand. He
was extremely patient and calm. The only time Starsha ever heard him raise his
voice was when he was in the company of the person in the next picture; a
person she detested. Her mother…Astra.
The very
few visits from her mother (just once or twice a year) always ended in a bitter
argument. The last few years, though, the arguments were not between Vaught and
her, but rather between her and her daughter Starsha. When it came to her
career, Starsha always felt that her mother was jealous and that she did not
want her to follow in her father's footsteps. Vaught took a different approach,
for he listened to Starsha and Astra both but he would not interfere with
Starsha’s enlisting in the Starfleet Marines. His only request was that she continue to train in the ways of the Force with Nokkar on
Creighton
and Melisande adopted Selar after her parents were killed when the
This was
young Starsha's complex family. Right or wrong, she embraced them all, for she
knew that the family was so intertwined that it would always be there for her
if she fell. For some reason, she looked back at the picture of Vaught’s older
sister. Starsha thought she was quite beautiful. She had always wished that she
knew more about her, and felt she had more in common with her besides having
her aunt's charming, mellifluous, and mysterious first name as her very own
middle name. It was a name that was as strange as it was beautiful…
Oh, if only I knew what she was
like, thought
Starsha.
Then,
Starsha was startled out of her reverie by the sound of an opening door. Her
pet Belinda walked into the room, jumping up on the bed as Starsha laid back
down on it. Starsha cooed, "Hi, Belinda," hugging the gorgeous gray
and white timber wolf who simply put her head on her knee in a gesture of
affection.
The wolf
nuzzled her knee and then curled up at her feet. She growled at something that
wasn't there. "What's wrong, girl?" asked Starsha. The young Marine
knew that Belinda acted like that only when she was trying to protect her from
something…or someone. Starsha's heart
pounded for a moment. A
tremor in the Force? she thought. Strange.
Starsha
closed her eyes to concentrate on the odd sense that she felt when the ghost of
a vision came to her mind. Starsha knew not where this vision was taking place,
nor did she know when it was taking place. Such was the way of the Force, as
Nokkar had told her. "Many things one can see, one can feel, the past, the
future, maybe even other planes, other dimensions. Who knows what you may see?
Or be able to learn?" In the vision, two women were facing each other with
a deep enmity in their eyes in a room that looked like a clean, modern kitchen
of some kind. One was very young, maybe nineteen, maybe twenty-one or
twenty-two? The woman had honey-blonde hair that just barely reached her
shoulders; a woman's military cut with a twinge of femininity to it. She wore
clothing in yellow and black that may have been leisure clothing, may have been
athletic wear, maybe even a uniform of some kind? Starsha didn't know for sure.
The most
startling thing about the woman was the resemblance she bore to herself; the
fine features of the face, the dark eyes, luxuriant lashes…Starsha may well
have been looking at a slightly younger version of herself…or of her father's
older sister. The younger woman was facing down…a crone. The older woman was
perhaps seventy, maybe eighty, and had a fat, wasted face that had once
probably been beautiful but had turned ugly, but she had the same eyes, almost,
as her younger counterpart. Perhaps they were relatives? Starsha couldn't tell.
The old hag was in a dirty brown blouse of some kind, holding a bottle of
liquor in one hand and a stick in the other. Starsha could tell the younger
woman and the older one were probably related…but she guessed it was not a
happy relationship. She could see the lips moving as they argued, but no words
came to her in the vision. Starsha got a definite sense of deep, deep enmity between the two of them,
enmity verging upon hatred.
The old
crone said three words, in silence, her mouth snapping each syllable. Starsha
blanched…she was able to read lips well enough to know that the crone had just
called the young woman a very obscene name.
Starsha's
eyes widened as the younger woman raised her hand…and a cylindrical object flew
to it. It was a lightsaber, and a very unusual one. Starsha got the odd sense
that both the younger woman and her significant other had built the weapon
together as a joint project. She had never heard of such a thing happening
before, since Nokkar had told her the Jedi usually frowned on such personal attachments.
Whoever had built the saber…it was deadly, coming to life at once in the
woman's hands like a blue fire. In response, the old crone raised her hand, and
a saber came to it from a dirty, battered macramé purse that looked
homemade…like a craft project done by an alcoholic. The saber almost looked the
same as the filthy bag; it was dirty and seemed to be made from junk, while the
young woman's saber was silvery, clean, and immaculate like a weapon made to
military specs. It was a fine weapon not unlike her weapon. Except that Starsha
knew that she would never make such an exercise as light saber construction a
joint project with her fiancée' or husband.
The crone
lit her saber; it glowed red. Jedi and Sith? Starsha thought. Civilians, maybe…in a food preparing area? What place…what time? This makes no
sense…although I sure have some relationships that are like that…is this a
warning? I don't know.
The strange
vision faded like a fever dream. Maybe it
well never come to pass, Starsha mused. Maybe
it already has, and they're dead. So many possibilities in the Force…and I
thought I knew something. Looks like I have a long way to go in my studies…a
long way to go to make sense of this…
Starsha
fell into an uneasy sleep while concentrating upon the strange vision,
wondering who the younger woman was, and why the image of a snowy forest with a
blazing star above it was coming to her mind. Don't feel like riddles…she thought as she fell into some strange
dream. She must have fallen asleep for a while for she was startled when the
vid-panel beeped as she rolled over to the night stand to answer. An image of
her Great-Grandmother appeared.
Great, thought Starsha. Maybe that's what the Force was telling me?
Trouble with relatives? This is not going to be pleasant, or happy. She looks
pissed. Indeed, Destine seemed very angry, and her reddish-white hair
seemed to be on fire.
“What are
you doing?!” she snapped at Starsha. This was Destine’s usual modus operandi. At most times she was
ill tempered, and very, very ill-mannered. Overall, she was a most unpleasant
person.
“I'm on leave
right now.” Starsha said "You just woke me up."
“Where’s
your father?”
“I know
he’s on assignment.” Starsha said
“Is it for
the university or us?”
“Us,”
Starsha said.
“So he
doesn’t know about Astra.” Destine said.
“I don’t
think so.” Starsha replied.
Destine
sighed and rubbed her eyes. Starsha could tell that she was not being her usual
coarse self, but was deeply worried. "Excuse me? Admiral?” she asked.
“I want to
reassign you to the
Starsha
sighed, “Starship Duty!? I’m a marine not a cruise director!”
Destine
narrowed her eyes turning red “Either you learn to be a cruise director or you
learn to be my secretary…NOW, WHAT'S IT
GOING TO DAMN WELL BE!!!!??” she roared.
Starsha
shrugged, thinking, You win…as usual…“Where and when should I
meet the
“She’s
still three days out from Earth…but I’m sending a shuttle for you right now to
take you to the
“Yes Admiral.”
Starsha said
“This isn’t
personal Star, believe me." Destine said. “It’s family. A bunch of
Creighton’s top secret designs are being passed around all over the
place…Starfleet’s got your father involved in God knows what, and he's in
possession of something that’s not supposed to exist!"
"What
is it?"
"Unimportant for now. I want you where I can find you.”
"Why?"
“With your father away, you are a close second
to do someone’s dirty work because you know how to handle one of those damned
light sabers."
"I
see. You want me for this?"
"Yes.
The only people you take orders from are Commander Will Riker, Captain Jean-Luc
Picard or myself! That’s not negotiable.”
“Yes, Admiral. May I stop at
“Nokkar?”
Destine said
Starsha
nodded. "I need to talk with him."
"About what?"
Starsha
remembered her weird vision, and other things that were bothering her.
"It's personal, but important. It concerns my abilities. I've got to be
ready for this."
“All right!
You’ll find him waiting for you at the house…get packed!”
Starsha
nodded. Destine didn't nod back. As her face quickly disappeared from the
viewer, Starsha immediately undressed and walked into the shower.
I have a lot to do, and I have to
hurry, she thought as
Belinda waited outside. Gasping as the stream of hot water hit her body, she
slid the glass door emphatically shut.
At
Starfleet Headquarters, the junior officers cringed outside the Office of the
Starfleet Commander as Admiral Destine roared at the top of her lungs to the
unfortunate attendees of the meeting; namely, Ambassador Spock, Creighton, and
Nechayev.
“You have
got to be kidding me with this report!” Destine screamed, her fangs in full
view as she threw the data pad against the wall. When it hit, it shattered into
pieces. “Son of a bitch!" raged the Admiral.
“Fascinating. Two in less than twenty-four hours.” Spock
said
“You’re
already on my shit-list, Ambassador!” roared Destine.
“I know
that is a dangerous consequence.” Spock said evenly. “I do not hide my involvement with the
Iscandarians…"
Destine
interrupted him, “I don’t care about that, Mister
Spock! You can explain your cowboy diplomacy to the Federation Council…that’s
whom you answer to…you damn fool! Let them ream you a new ass!"
Destine
then turned to Admiral Nechayev, "You on the other hand, work for me!
Which I’m about to remedy…right now,"
she said while flopping in her chair behind the huge oak desk as she turned
towards Creighton. "You! You so-called genius!
Where in hell do you get off taking recourses to design these things???”
“Well…you
knew all about Inferno,” Creighton said.
“And the Cosmo-DNA, too?”
Nechayev
stood up. “Ma'am. I ordered Admiral Dantes’ department
to design and build the Cosmo- DNA device. And it was I who gave the plan to
the wave motion Generator to Iscandar."
Mimicking
an early 21st century television celebrity’s trademark, Destine sat back in her
chair, pointed once at Nechayev, and snapped, “you’re fired!’ in a harsh voice
while Spock raised an eyebrow.
Nechayev
simply stood up and walked out of the office. Leaving Spock
alone with Creighton, who had said practically nothing throughout the entire
meeting. Destine got up, grabbed a glass of water and drank. As the cold
water soothed her burning throat, she took a deep sigh and walked over to the
window looking at the illuminated shape of the
“Okay, you
two have opinions?” Destine said.
“I
recommend that we watch the situation carefully,” Spock said.
“Agreed.
I want to place some ships around this gate or doorway…or whatever it is. Is
there any way to prevent the conditions that happened a hundred years ago with
the
Creighton
shook his head, “Admiral, starship shields are far more advanced today. That
shouldn't happen now. There shouldn’t be any power drain or loss on the
shields, but that would only be in the event if a ship was dragged through the
corridor and another was dragged in close. I would keep them back though.”
“Why?”
Destine asked
“Because
the fabric of space-time is so delicate that any power fields emanating from
inside it can cause an imbalance,” Spock said.
“What do we
know about this Comet that entered the interspace door?”
“Nothing,"
said the Ambassador. "Nothing…except that the
“If I promised to make you an Admiral would you come back to work for
us, Spock?”
Destine said.
Creighton
chuckled.
Spock
cleared his throat. “I can best serve you with Diplomatic issues, Admiral, not
military issues.”
“I think it
would be a good idea to send you to Iscandar,” Destine said. “Let's find out
how deep the contamination goes with these designs of Creighton’s and this
parallel Earth.”
“Very well,
Admiral.” Spock said. "I'll go."
Destine
then turned to Creighton. “I don’t care if it is a conflict of interest,” she
said angrily. “You don’t design a toilet flusher unless I say so… I’m not
blaming you for this…this…..situation, but I have to get control of what is
happening here. Got it?”
“Good
deal.” Creighton said. “However, Melisande and I were looking forward to
spending some time with Starsha when she arrives here.”
“Fine,”
Destine said, “I'll be there when I can…I have to go to the President and somehow
explain all of this crap….this isn’t what we should be doing anymore…damnit… lunacy like this should be read in a Frederick P. Kopetz science-fiction novel…not
a Starfleet Field Report.”
They both nodded.
"Admiral?" asked Spock.
"Yes?" hissed Destine.
Spock raised his hand in the split-fingered Vulcan salute. "Live
long and prosper, Admiral."
“Go away!” snapped Destine, as they both turned and walked out the door.
After they left, Destine walked over to her personal bar and poured
something stronger than water. After doing so, she picked up a picture of
Thomas Dantes. Then, she walked outside onto a very small balcony. She stood in
silence looking at the
I'm so old, I’ve stopped counting the years, Thomas, thought
the Admiral. Then, she turned and touched her communicator pin.
“Y-Yes Admiral?” an ensign said
“Get Nechayev
back in here. NOW!!!”
She took a
gulp of the straight Aldeberan whisky and closed her eyes. I never asked
anything of you before, Thomas….she thought But wherever he is…could you
please see that he gets safely back…for his daughter's sake?
She looked
up into the clear dark sky
“Talk to
me, Thomas. Please talk to me!” said Destine while gazing at the sky.
There was
only silence.
End Chapter Three
Next
Chapter: "The Adventure Begins"
To Return
to the Introduction to Starfighter: The
Iconoclasts, click here