The Adventures of Jean-Luc Picard
Lonely Planet
by Jasjit Singh
(jasjit@uranium.dashmail.net)

Lonely Planet

"Captain, I am receiving a distress signal on general hail."

Captain Keel turned around to face T'Pau, who was at the communications station, monitoring the incoming message. "Origin?" he inquired, contemplating.

"The third planet from the Sun. Within this solar system," replied T'Pau, after making the required calculations.

Keel rubbed his chin. "Is the message specific?"

"It is a small craft, five passengers. Three of them are wounded. They require medical attention."

"Yellow alert! Helm, take us to the third planet. Full Impulse."

"Aye sir!"

"Lucky we happened to be in the neighborhood," mused Keel, as the U.S.S Stargazer changed course and heading towards the third planet. It was a dark grey world, with swirls of black and brown clouds in the atmosphere, and many storms on what must have been a planet with a climate wet and warm. It was shaped strangely, almost like an oblong. But its trajectory matched the other planets, and scans revealed that it was an M-Class planet.

"Jean-Luc, take an away team down to the surface. Transport directly to the coordinates of the crashed craft. T'Pau, send a reply, that a Federation team is on their way to offer assistance."

Jean-Luc Picard selected his away team: Science Officer Do-reth Sainor, Security Chief Eddy Hastings, and the Doctor Jyresh Maxwell. Less than four minutes later they were assembled on transporter pad one, with phasors, a medical kit and supplies, ready to transport down to the planet.

"Good Luck," said the Transporter Chief as he began the transport. Looking up he saw the four figures on the pad shimmer and then vanish.

The surface of the planet was wet. There was rain pouring down at the location where they transported to, and the soil beneath their feet was moist. They were surrounded by rich vegetation, lots of ferns and small trees. But there was no crashed shuttle of any kind. In fact, there was no evidence of any crash at all. As soon as this was evident, Hastings had drawn his phasor and was sweeping the area in one continuous pattern, looking for any signs of an ambush. Picard had his tricorder out and was scanning the area. Sainor seemed bewildered, standing oddly on the surface, lifting one foot and the other, and looking about with a quizzical expression on his face.

Picard attempted initiating communication with the Stargazer: "Picard to Stargazer."

The sound of the Captains voice was broken with static, but they were able to hear him. "Keel here. Have you located the crashed craft, Picard?"

"No sir. There is no sign of any type of crashed vessel here at all. In fact, I am not reading any life signs for an area of twenty square kilometers. We will begin a search pattern, originating from our transport location, sweeping outwards. Meanwhile the Stargazer can perform more extensive scans of the planets surface, for any lifeforms."

"Agreed. Carry on, Mr. Picard. Keel out."

The away team searched in outward concentric circles that began at the point of origin, which was their transport site. They moved quickly in the light rainfall, but with caution, phasors drawn and ready to fire. It was a long search, and lasted approximately nine hours, but they did not find any signs of life. The scans of the planet by the Stargazer did not reveal any lifeforms on the surface either. At the end of their search, the team took another much needed break. They found shelter beneath an outcropping of rock along a sheer cliff wall. Their movements had taken them outside the dense forest, and now they found themselves in a region which was more rocky, and sparse of vegetation, although the rain here fell equally as in any other region on the planet.

As they sat down to rest, Sainor seemed agitated. "Mr. Sainor, is there a problem?" asked Picard, noticing Sainor's lack of composure.

"It is most strange, sir," replied Sainor, in his usual calm voice, as he took a seat. "I am confused, as if all my senses are betraying me. I am able to stand upright only with difficulty."

"Are you having trouble balancing? Any nausea?" Jyresh opened his medical kit and examined Sainor with a medical tricorder.

"No," replied Sainor faintly. "None of those symptoms. I think you will find that I am quite fit, Doctor. Medically speaking, of course."

"So you are," said Jyresh, having completed his scans, and finding nothing amiss with Sainor, he folded the tricorder and replaced it in the medkit. "Maybe you just need some rest," he offered, at a loss. Sainor nodded, and managed a feeble smile.

"Inform me if your condition gets any worse," said Picard.

"Aye sir," replied Sainor.

Picard stood at the edge of the shelter, looking out at the rain that was now nothing more than a light drizzle, falling upon the brown sands that marked the plains in the distance. The vegetation was growing more sparse in this area of the land, with little more than shrubs and bushes. Out towards the east lay a parched desert. It was visible to the naked eye, even from this distance.

"Kinda strange, isn't it?" It was Hastings. He had come up to stand beside Picard, looking out over the plain. "It's raining here, and still we can see a bone dry desert not too far off."

"It is, unusual," Picard agreed.

"Any idea where the crashed shuttle might be?"

"I don't see how they could have managed to get far, in this terrain. Especially with three wounded passengers. And there is still the mystery, Mr. Hastings, of their shuttlecraft. If it crashed, then where is it?"

"In all my time aboard the Stargazer, we have never gotten transport coordinates wrong, not even once."

"Oh, I don't think that this was a transporter accident, Mr. Hastings." Hastings looked at Picard.

"You don't mean to say. . ." He did not finish his sentence. Picard turned to Hastings, raised his eyebrows, and shrugged.

"Let's just say that I am not discounting any possibility. Mr. Hastings, be on full alert. The last thing we want is to be taken surprise by the Romulans. Or any other group that hopes to waylay an unwary Federation away team."

"Aye sir!"

It had been eleven hours since their arrival on the planet, and they had not found a single indication of lifeforms anywhere on the planet. Picard considered his alternatives. He looked back at his team; they were weary but ambling along. Mr. Sainor in particular looked especially exhausted, requiring help to walk, one arm draped over Jyresh's shoulders as the good doctor helped him stumble along. Picard decided it was time to return to the Stargazer.

They assembled in a clearing and prepared for transport. "Stargazer, this is Picard. Four to beam up."

"Aye sir, stand by for transport," the Transporter Chief's voice crackled over the comm signal. They stood, with Sainor almost bent over in fatigue.

Nothing happened.

"Stargazer, this Picard. We are ready for transport." There was a pause before the Transporter Chief's voice came over the comm signal: "I am having trouble isolating your patterns sir. I will try boosting the signal integrity. Please stand by."

Still nothing.

Then, after a long while, the Transporter Chief's voice came over the comm signal again, this time sounding hesitant and almost apologetic. "We are having some problems here, sir. It appears that we are not able to transport you off the planet."

They were dumbfounded aboard the Stargazer. The whole transporter team did not know what to do. So they called the Chief Engineer, Khalid Qahwaji. When he arrived at the transporter room, he listened to the Transporter Chief with patience, nodding to indicate that he understood what was happening, and when the Chief was done, he stepped up to the transporter console and checked the log entries. He was a quiet man, and did not speak very much. His huge build and heavy set frame often betrayed his gentle demeanor.

When he was done checking the transporter logs, he nodded and said to the Transporter Chief: "Looks like there is a problem with the signal integrity. I will work on it."

It was thirty minutes later when Khalid informed Keel that he was ready to try the transporters again. Keel, who had begun to become impatient, said "Yes, carry on, Khalid. Let's get our people back."

"Khalid to away team," Khalid was operating aboard the bridge, where he had re-routed engineering and transporter control to the science station. "I have modified the phase variance of the confinement beam in the transporters. We should be able to get a sufficiently stable pattern lock to perform transport."

"We are standing by, Khalid," It was Picard's voice, distant, but with still a touch of exuberance in it. Keel smiled at that.

"Energizing," Khalid watched the transporter patterns as he attempted to perform the transport. At the beginning of transport, all four pattern locks were stable and holding. But as the transport progressed, they lost integrity, and then vanished altogether, so that Khalid had to abort transport.

"What's wrong?" Keel asked, looking over Khalid's shoulders. Khalid had a frown on face, as he reviewed logs of the transport that had just been attempted.

"We had transporter lock, but as I began transport, we lost it. There was no change in atmospheric conditions, or surface conditions on the planet, which would account for this type of signal loss. It is almost as if our transporters had been disabled at point of transport. I just ran a diagnostic program, and the transporters are functioning at ninety three percent efficiency. If it was a transporter problem, it would have shown up on the diagnostics."

Picard's voice came over the comm signal. "Captain, Mr. Sainor has taken a turn for the worse. Anything you can do to expedite our return to the Stargazer will be appreciated."

"We'll get you back just as soon as we can, Picard. Maintain your present position," Keel replied to Picard, and then he turned to the Second Officer, Michiko Hatta.

"Take a shuttlecraft," he said to her, "Get a fix on their location, and get them out of there."

Michiko nodded and headed for the turbolift.

"Hang in there Picard. We're going to get you back," mumbled Keel under his breath, as he looked at the swirling clouds of the grey planet on the viewscreen, "just lucky we happened to be in the neighborhood. For a non-existent crashed shuttle."

Michiko Hatta was an accomplished shuttle pilot. She had flown all kinds of Starfleet shuttlecrafts, including the experimental prototypes, and even some of the Klingon shuttles. She enjoyed piloting, and had devised and documented several evasive maneuvers, many of which were incorporated into standard Starfleet Academy training courses. That had led to her becoming somewhat famous among the Starfleet combat pilots, who credited many of their victories to her flying tactics. That, she was proud of. She herself had seen many combat situations, and was well educated in the art of flying under fire. Compared to flying under attack, there was nothing difficult about landing a shuttle on an M-class planet. At least, nothing that she thought was difficult.

As she approached the planet, she turned on the geographical mapping routines in the shuttles on-board computer, so that she would be able to navigate the terrain and land in an appropriate area. The dark grey swirls came closer and closer, until they filled the view in front of her. It was so dense and tightly packed, that she could not see beneath the disturbance.

"Shuttlecraft one to Stargazer. This is Michiko. I am preparing to enter the planets atmosphere. Looks like it's going to be a little rough."

"Stargazer to shuttlecraft one. We have acknowledged. Please proceeed."

Michiko nodded and tapped the control panel. The dark clouds seemed like great billowing smoke, pulsing, throbbing with life. As the tiny shuttlecraft approached them, they enveloped it hungrily.

The shuttle began to tremble, and then shake. Michiko consulted her navigational controls. They were not registering. Cursing, she slammed her fist on the console. She turned to the navigational controls for space travel. They would not give her the required accuracy for planetary travel, but at least would guide her to her landing site. But they were offline as well. She turned back to the navigational controls, and activated manual controls.

"Warning," the shuttle's computer sounded, "Navigational controls are offline. Switching to manual controls is not recommended."

"Tell me something I don't know," said Michiko to the computer, and swerved the shuttlecraft around. There seemed to be clouds everywhere. There was no break in them. They were getting darker, blacker, every second. She suspected there was a storm in the vicinity. She tried steering away from it. But the clouds kept getting blacker, and the movement in them more violent. Finally, lightning bolts started to streak across and in between the clouds in front of her.

Michiko was surprised. "Why am I not down yet?" she wondered, hovering the shuttlecraft. Then, she shrugged. "I should have been down. Oh well, there is only one way to find out."

And she tapped the controls twice. The shuttlecraft lurched forward, and then took a sharp turn, and nose-dived. Michiko held on to the console with both hands as the shuttle shot downward at an accelerating velocity. The clouds began to clear. She smiled to herself.

Just then a long sharp lightning bolt shot out from the closest cloud and penetrated the shuttle's hull. It shot straight through the hull and into Michiko's body, lifting her up off her seat and flinging her across the cabin. She fell in a crumpled heap on the floor, unconscious. The shuttle halted its downward descent, hovering as a bead on a string. Then, the nose tilted upward, and the shuttle righted itself. The thick black clouds enveloped it again, hiding it from view.

Keel held an emergency meeting in the conference room. He stood at the head of the table, looking very sombre, but more than that he looked impatient, even bordering on angry. He surveyed the assembled senior staff, and then began:

"We have lost one shuttlecraft," he said, "missing in that planets atmosphere. It did not crash. It just disappeared. If that is at all possible. And we have an away team that is stranded on the planet below. We have to formulate some method of getting our people back to us. Without any casualties. We need alternatives."

"If we had some way of clearing up those atmospheric storms," said T'Pau, "we might be able to land a shuttlecraft successfully."

Khalid shook his head. "All our sensor readings indicate that the atmospheric disturbances are a natural extension of the planets own climatology. These conditions have persisted for years, maybe even tens or hundreds of years. Waiting for a shift in weather would not be advisable."

"What if we created a shift in weather, instead of waiting for one?" countered T'Pau, thinking out loud.

"We'd have to modify the mean surface temperature, and reduce the water vapor to air molecule ratio above the condensation level," Khalid was inputting data into his pad, his fingers typing furiously, entering equations, programming a simulation. "We could possibly detonate a low-yield class four type torpedo very near to the planets stratosphere. That would cause a cascade reaction, and raise the mean atmospheric temperature. . ."

"Thus raising the atmospheric pressure and reducing the atmospheric disturbances," said T'Pau.

"In fact, if we get enough clearance, we may even be able to transport them out of there," said Khalid thoughtfully, still studying his pad.

"It's worth a shot," Keel nodded. "I want status reports on the hour.

Let's try to hurry this up, we have a crewman on that planet who needs medical attention."

"Aye sir."

It was four hours and twelve minutes later when they were ready to begin. T'Pau and Khalid were on the bridge, with Keel sitting in the captains chair, looking at the planet which now was covered in ominous black clouds. Khalid signaled Keel that they were ready to proceed. Keel opened a communications channel with the away team:

"Jean-Luc, we are going to try again," he said. "We are going to detonate a low-yield class four torpedo in the stratosphere. That should clear up the disturbance that's been preventing us from transporting you up."

"Understood, sir." Picard's voice sounded distant, with the static crackle almost masking it.

Down on the surface, the rain had let up. There was still moisture in the air, and a fresh smell of leaves, and plants. Everything was still dripping wet. The away team had returned to their original transport location, and sought shelter underneath a large tree which had long branches with thick leaves, and huge, gnarled roots that stuck out from the ground. The branches overhead with the thick green leaves had afforded them protection from the light drizzle. Now they sat among the roots of the great tree, eating supply rations. Hastings picked the food apart lazily and chewed on it, with nothing better to do. Jyresh leaned over Sainor, who lay on the ground clutching his stomach, unable to do anything but administer pain relievers. Picard stood a little distance off, surveying the area, now taking scans with his tricorder, now looking up and down, sniffing the air, touching the plants . . .

"There's nothing I can do for him here," Jyresh had walked up to Picard, and was gesturing towards the prone Sainor. "I need to get him to sick bay."

Picard looked at Sainor. "Is he in pain?"

"Not for the moment. I have administered some pain relievers. But whatever his condition is, it is getting worse. And if you ask me, I think that getting him off this planet may be a good start. There may be something in the air composition that affects his species."

Picard nodded. "They are ready to try again. We will know in a few seconds. Stand by."

Jyresh nodded, and returned to Sainors side, monitoring his condition.

Picard looked up into the sky, and saw a brilliant bright flash. It blazed euphorically for a few seconds, and then was gone. The torpedo. So they had fired it. He waited for a communication from Stargazer. Eventually it came. Keel's voice over the comm, barely audible through the static, but there nonetheless.

"We are ready to attempt another transport, Jean-Luc. We have locked on to your signals. Please stand by."

Picard gestured to the others, and they prepared for the transport. As he watched, their bodies began to shimmer, and fade. But they hung there, hovering before the trunk of the great old tree, half visible and half invisible, as if they were phasing in or out of some strange time frame. Then, they materialized again fully. They were still on the planet.

"Something went wrong. The signal was not strong enough." It was Khalid over the comm system. Picard sighed.

"Well gentlemen," he said to his away team, "It looks like we may be here for a while."

Khalid sat in Engineering, thinking to himself. "Why wasn't the confinement beam constricted enough to hold on to the pattern locks?" he wondered, studying his pad. It was a mystery. It was almost as if the pattern lock had been released at the moment of transport. Well, at least they had made some progress. They were at least able to initiate transport. Even if all they got back was air. He wondered. Before they had altered the planets climate, they had not even been able to get stable pattern lock. After their efforts at modifying the climate, the violent storms in the planets upper atmosphere, they were able to get a pattern lock, and even initiate transport. But again it had failed. What did they need to do next in order to have a successful transport?

He began pacing. The other engineers and crew members stayed out of his way. He was lost deep in thought. He did not realize where he was. He was immersed in his problem. What needed to be done next? What was required? What was the missing key?

It was late. Past 1200 hours. But he knew that the changes they had made to the planets atmosphere were only temporary. They would last only a few hours at the most. If they had any chance of getting the away team back, it was now, and he had to determine what the next step was. He had to determine what sequence of actions needed to be taken --

"Perhaps it is not a sequence of actions that is required." Khalid stopped short, inches away from T'Pau, who stood in his path. He stepped back, and adjusted his sleeve.

"I'm sorry. I didn't see you there," he said. He looked around. Lights had been dimmed. There were only three or four crew members in Engineering, not the usual bustling staff of thirty. The night shift. Everyone else was off duty. Had it been that long? He had lost track of time. T'Pau smiled at him. A Vulcan, smiling. A rare sight.

"You can read my thoughts?" he inquired, not surprised.

"People such as you tend to, broadcast your thoughts," replied T'Pau, with a slight inclination of her head. Khalid grinned.

"What are you doing up so late," he asked.

"Attempting to formulate a hypothesis."

"Trying to figure out what we need to do next. What are we missing. I mean, we actually began transport. Everything was fine. We had pattern locks, the annular confinement beam was finely constricted. And then, we lost it. We transported alright. But we transported air. Why?" "Perhaps, our process is flawed."

"We did everything that was required in order to transport a human being from one point in space to another. We've done it hundreds of times. Why was this time time any different?"

"We did not refine our process to the point of precision."

"Which part was flawed?"

T'Pau considered. "In attempting to transport a complex biological organism from one location in space to another, we are required to consider several variables. The energy dissipation of the organism, the photonic discharge emanating from it, the frequency at which the sub-atomic particles resonate, the --"

Khalid cut her off. "Thats it! The frequency range!" T'Pau blinked. "Elaborate," she said, not quite comprehending. Khalid was at a workstation, again entering data, equations, running another simulation.

"Think about it," he said to her excitedly, "The annular confinement beam operates on one of three pre-defined wavelengths. The transporter itself has been calibrated to operate between three thousand five hundred and four thousand three hundred and seventy five gigahertz. This is the standard Starfleet protocol."

T'Pau raised her eyebrows. "We have been using the standard frequency ranges. Are we required to use a different frequency range if we are to obtain a successful transport?"

"Yes! And while it may get a little risky the higher up we go, we still have a wide margin to experiment with. I think we should try this."

"If we select a frequency that is too high, we risk particle loss."

Khalid nodded. "I know. We'll have to be careful. I am creating a database of the characteristics of the planets atmospheric patterns. We can use it to simulate transports at greater frequency ranges."

T'Pau walked to the empty engineering workstation beside Khalid and began the long task of programming it for the required simulations.

At 0400 hours, a bleary eyed Khalid and an ever-fresh looking T'Pau presented Keel with their proposal. Keel heard their suggestion, and agreed with them.

"I acknowledge the risks involved. I think you should attempt it. Keep me informed," he said. They nodded, and left his ready room.

"We shall perform the transport from Transporter Room Three," said T'Pau.

"I have modified the transport buffers there to operate at the higher frequencies. It was also necessary to realign the Heisenberg Compensators. They may not function correctly."

Khalid whistled. "If we have a malfunction there, this whole experiment could blow up in our face."

When they were ready, they contacted the away team. The message did not get through. There was too much static, too much interference. Khalid looked towards T'Pau.

"Suggestion," he said to her. "We attempt the transport. We already have their comm signals. The computer has their coordinates."

T'Pau nodded. "It is logical. Proceed."

Khalid began the transport. They watched the transporter pad anxiously. The transporters were operating beyond frequencies that they were designed for. Although still technically feasible, four thousand four hundred and seventeen gigahertz was not recommended by Starfleet. Early transporter accidents were linked to these higher frequencies. That was why Starfleet had abandoned them for the safer, lower band frequencies. Now, they were attempting to get their crew home with just the dangerous type of transport behavior that had cost the lives of many Federation citizens.

Khalid swallowed. He knew what would happen if the Heisenberg Compensators did not function correctly. He still remembered with horror the pictures he had seen of the early transporter accidents: malformed clumps of flesh, misplaced organs, screaming in pain, reassembled by a confused computer into a creature far too hideous to behold, and yet alive and in an unbelievable amount of pain. He shuddered at the memory, dismissing it from his mind, focusing on the task at hand.

The air above the pad wavered, like a mirage. And then something material began to form on it. They watched with bated breath as with infinite slowness a shape emerged. A man, sitting. Knees drawn up. Field rations in his mouth. He was looking about uncertainly, as one who has been transported without his knowledge. It was Eddy Hastings.

"Hey you guys," he said, seeing T'Pau and Khalid. "You did it. "

"But where are the others?" asked Khalid, studying the transporter logs. T'Pau helped Hastings get onto his feet.

"Are you feeling well?" she asked him.

"Well, let me just check for any broken bones," he joked.

T'Pau turned to Khalid. "Only one transport?" she inquired. Khalid's deep dark brows were knitted together in a frown.

"I had all their patterns locked. We should have gotten all of them." he said. He ran some scans. "The rest are still on the planet."

Relief.

For a moment he thought that he had lost them in the transport. But they were still on the planet. For some reason the transporters had only been able to transport one of them at a time. The selection appeared to be entirely arbritary. Then, he said: "I'm going to try again."

He re-established the pattern locks on the remaining members of the away team, and re-initiated transport. This time it was a confused looking doctor who appeared on the transporter pad.

"It's not me you should be transporting up here, it's Sainor!" cried Jyresh, waving an impatient fist at T'Pau and Khalid. "He needs to medical attention! He should be in sick bay, not down on the surface."

"Doctor, calm yourself," said T'Pau.

"Let me try again," said Khalid, going over the same rite to re-initiate transport.

But the third time, nothing happened. They could not even get a pattern lock. The atmospheric disturbances had returned, more volatile than ever. They had lost communications, and there was an ion storm brewing in the planet's atmosphere. They could not attempt any more transports -- at least not for the time being.

Hastings and Jyresh reported to the captain's ready room to give him their incident reports. Shortly afterwards Hastings was back at his post on the bridge. And the doctor was back in sick bay, reviewing Sainor's previous medical history, for any clues as to what might be causing his present condition.

Sainor opened his eyes and tried to focus his blurred vision. He saw the forest all around him, with the smell of damp soil permeating his nostrils. He raised his head. Picard sat in front of him, and now he knelt.

"Picard," Sainor managed to say. Picard smiled in his usual, inimitable way.

"They were able to transport Hastings and the Doctor back to the Stargazer. It should only be a matter of time before they get around to us as well."

Sainor shook his head. "They cannot," he croaked, through a dry throat.

"Oh come now, Mr. Sainor, you should give Khalid and his team more credit than that, eh."

"Picard, they cannot because the interference in the planets atmosphere is too great. It will remain that way."

"How do you know?"

"I can sense it. It did not want us to leave. That is why it brought us here in the first place. At first, I did not understand it. I was confused, feeling strange, unable to stand upright, these were all manifestations of the problem."

"Explain," Picard sat back and listened as Sainor went on.

"At first I thought it was I who was ill. But the Doctor's scans established that medically I was fine. It was the planet, you see. It sent out a false signal, mimicking a distress call, so that it could lure us here, and trap us. It requires life forms to interact with, and has been alone, for far too long. At first, when we arrived, I could not anticipate all of this and sense it, but as time wore on, I became more and more aware of it, until now, I can even hear its thoughts."

"Mr. Sainor, are you saying that this planet is self-aware?"

"Have you noticed how there is no animal life on this planet? We have surveyed over two hundred square kilometers, but have not seen any insect or animal life. Where is it?"

Picard looked around at the plants and trees, and for the first time noticed what was missing. It gave the forest an eerie feel. Picard shuddered and turned his attention back to Sainor.

"Why is this planet having this effect on you? Why not any of us, Jyresh, Hastings, or myself?"

"It may be due to the fact that I am aware of it, and can hear its thoughts."

"Can you communicate with it?"

"I think so. I will need some time to gather my strength."

Picard helped Sainor into a sitting position, and offered him a flask of water. Sainor gulped down the water thankfully and nodded. A few minutes later he was composed, even looking better, although one arm was still numb. He cradled it in his lap while he began his meditation.

"I am attempting to make communication," he said to Picard, eyes still closed. For a long while, silence. Picard had sat down, and was drawing patterns in the wet soil with his finger. Then, Sainor remarked:

"I have made contact with it. It has corroborated what I suspected. It is alive, and self-aware. It possesses intelligence, it is sentient. But it is not a planet. It has knowledge of planets, and can often approximate their shape and appearance, mainly to elude its predators. This species travels in herds, migrating from one part of space to another. This particular entity was removed from its herd many years ago during a migration. It was separated due to an attack from its predators. It remained lost, and decided to hide in this solar system, with the knowledge that the hunters were still out there, searching for it. It has been in this trajectory and pattern for several years. It has been alone, away from its own kind, without any contact with them, for too long. It required contact with other lifeforms, so it finally resorted to sending a false distress signal to lure someone here. It intends to keep us here as its companions, Commander."

Picard was looking at Sainor as he opened his eyes. Sainor looked different. His eyes were not their usual deep black color. Instead they were light gray, almost white. He seemed unearthly.

"How does our presence here give this entity companionship?" asked Picard.

"Our interaction gives it companionship. Anything that we do is contact with another life form. It has lost sense of reasoning, Commander. It has been alone for too long. It is in a sense, it has gone mad."

"Did it allow Hastings and Jyresh to be transported?"

"No. It attempted to prevent their removal. But it failed in preventing their transport. By the time it understood how the transporters were functioning again, they had already been transported. But it compensated, and now transporters are completely useless. The shuttlecraft is still suspended in the atmosphere. It does not know what to do with it, but will keep it there as long as it requires."

"Is Commander Hatta alive?" Picard asked urgently.

"She is alive, sir, but barely," replied Sainor, with a slight tilt of the head.

"Mr. Sainor, you must communicate to this entity that we should be released, immediately."

"It had every intention of keeping us here when we beamed down. It has every intention of keeping us here now. It does not plan to release us now, or any time into the future. It has decided to keep us as its companions."

"Tell it, that if it does not release us, we will perceive its actions as hostile, and that they constitute an act of war."

Sainor was silent for a long time. And then he said: "It did not like that."

The ground beneath their feet began to shake. There was a deep rumbling in the earth. The air vibrated as the shaking got more violent and the rumbling louder. The skies cleared, and Picard could look straight up into a clear sky and see the brightly shining stars beyond. And in the distance, he saw the faint outline of the Stargazer. He looked back down at Sainor.

"What is happening?" he asked.

"This entity is angry, Commander," replied Sainor.

Picard thought quickly. What was the one thing that this life form feared? Being hunted, by its predator species. He looked up again, and even as he did so, he noticed the stars in the distance begin to move.

"We are moving," he said urgently to Sainor.

"The entity is changing trajectory, we appear to be leaving this solar system."

Picard turned to Sainor. He said: "Tell it to cease it's actions, or the Stargazer will be forced to fire upon it and destroy it."

There was a pause. The rumbling and shaking ceased. Even the movement stopped. For a few moments there was complete stillness. Then, all of a sudden, everything returned, more violently than before. The ground began to split open, revealing deep fissures that were previously hidden, venting hot gases and lava. The entire surface was erupting.

"I must communicate with the Stargazer," said Sainor, over the din.

"T'Pau, what is their heading now?"

On board the Stargazer they had monitored the "planets" movements, and had seen it alter course and direction.

"No planet I ever saw did that," said Khalid, watching in awe.

"That's no planet," said Keel, rubbing his chin. "We were the victims of an elaborate ruse. And now it wants to kidnap my crew members. Well, not on my shift."

"It's heading leads it outside this solar system, sir," reported T'Pau.

"Then lets get our people out of there before it leaves this system," said Keel. He considered for a moment what to do. Some thoughts flooded his mind. He saw Mr. Sainor, seated under a tree, hair all charged as if with static, pupils of the now-grey eyes constricted to fine points. He blinked, and then turned to Hastings.

"Mr. Hastings, photon torpedoes. Full spread. Program to detonate just outside the region of impact of the alien entity."

"Ready sir."

"Fire."

They watched as the bright glare of the photon torpedoes shot away from the Stargazer and towards the alien entity. A few seconds elapsed as the torpedoes made their journey, and then they exploded, in sequence, close to the entity.

"The entity has not modified velocity," reported T'Pau, from the science station. Keel let out one long sigh.

"Won't take a warning shot, eh?" he said lightly, as if he was talking to the entity. He paused a while, as if considering whether or not to actually fire upon the entity. As he opened his mouth to speak, T'Pau made another report:

"Sir, velocity of the alien entity is decreasing. It is changing shape. Its molecular patterns are dispersing."

"Transporters?" Keel inquired, looking towards Khalid, who was checking the transporter controls.

"We have pattern locks!" announced Khalid.

"Get them out of there. Beam Commander Hatta out of the shuttlecraft directly into sick bay. Doctor, this is Keel. You will be getting some patients very shortly, we hope."

"Understood Captain," said Jyresh over the comm.

They waited while Khalid performed the transport. It was a few seconds that seemed to stretch out into hours. Finally, Khalid said: "Transport complete. We have them, sir!"

Keel allowed himself a wide grin. "Helm, move us away from the alien entity, and one half impulse. Steady as she goes."

Sainor recovered from his malady in a matter of hours. It appeared that his ill-being had been brought about by his presence on the surface of the alien entity. His enhanced telepathic abilities had allowed him to comprehend its awareness and thoughts at a level which gave him some side effects. Michiko Hatta also recovered from her accident, thanks to the Doctors ministrations, although it took her five days to be completely well again.

It was not long after that episode that they were all seated in the mess hall, discussing their encounter with the strange life form. "Well, you are probably the only one of us who came closest to it," Picard said to Sainor, "what was it like?"

Sainor replied: "It was like a child in many respects, missing its parents. It was lost, and lonely, and frightened. The only way we coerced it into letting us go, was to threaten it was deadly force. I suspect that had we not fired the photon torpedoes as warning shots, it would not have released us."

"Do you think we will ever see it's kind again?" asked Michiko.

"Perhaps. The species does have a migratory schedule. And in the ordinary course of things, they do not disguise themselves as planets."

"One thing I do not understand, " said Hastings. "How was it able to recreate the planets surface and atmosphere, to such a degree that it even fooled our ships sensors?"

"Our ships sensors are designed to search for certain phenomenon to characterize the existence of objects. An asteroid, for example, is considered and asteroid by the ships computer because it contains ten percent iron ore, seventy percent rock, and twenty percent water in the form of ice. The alien entity simply mimicked those properties inherent to planets, by observing the other planets in the solar system, and thus it fooled not only our ships sensors, but us as well, when we beamed down to the surface. It was an odd feeling, though, as if things were not real, but artificial or manufactured."

"Did the entity manipulate matter?" asked Jyresh.

"I believe it has some capability of manipulating matter at the molecular level. That was why it was able to create the plants, the rain, the desert, the atmospheric disturbances, the clouds, and the soil on the surface. But it is a limited capability, and it could not sustain the illusion of a planet indefinitely."

"Well, Mr. Sainor, for getting us back safely, I propose a toast," Picard raised his glass, and others followed suit. Sainor grinned, and finally raised his glass as well among cheers and claps.

The End

"Lonely Planet"
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© Jasjit Singh, February 1999