0 comments/ 7184 views/ 1 favorites Battlefield Mine By: CaptainKirk This story is non-erotic. Lokai had hoped... prayed that Mr. Spock's estimation of the planet surface was exaggerated, that the destruction wasn't as bad as reported by the ship's sensors. But upon seeing it for himself, the assessment was correct. He started running, knowing who would be coming after him soon. As he ran through the rubble of what was once his home, Lokai tried to understand what had happened to his world. He had left behind his band of followers in order to escape persecution, leaving them to continue the fight for freedom and equality on a world that had seen nothing but class division, overbearing dominance, and slavery since the beginning of their history. The planet Cheron was under the control of the Mol Drak (birth black) who was quite advanced in almost all aspects of life, while Lokai's people, the Mol Bloc (birth white), had been considered 'savage' by comparison, although they were in reality just simple folk who thrived on simple means. When they realized that their way of life needed to be enhanced and brought into more modern times, all the Mol Bloc wanted was to be recognized as equal representatives of their world, and reap the benefits as the Mol Drak did. In turn, the Mol Drak needed the Mol Bloc for their laboring and farming expertise which was far more efficient and productive than their own. Both would benefit from a union of their two species, and a new age would dawn on Cheron. The Mol Drak welcomed their cousins into their homes and lives, gave them education and the freedom to dictate how to advance their lives and purposes, but only a certain extent. They knew that a peaceful and cooperative union of their two races would need time to take hold, and the Mol Bloc's education and freedom only served to keep them in their place as it were, allowing only certain rights and privileges to be exercised. For thousands of years the Mol Drak continued this practice, slowly leaving behind the backwards thinking of slavery and oppression and trying to raise both of their cultures to new and better heights and leave their arrogant, prejudicial ways in the past where it belonged. In the last few thousand years, they almost succeeded. Lokai never knew of the strides that his people and the Mol Drak had accomplished; he had left at the time of a great power struggle between the two diametrically opposing cultures. The Mol Drak, trying to preserve their heritage and advanced knowledge, fought against the Mol Bloc, who considered themselves 'freedom fighters' in a cause to break the chains of oppression. To escape from certain execution for the crime of treason, Lokai traveled the galaxy in whatever he could find in order to elude capture by Bele, Cheron's High Commissioner of the Bureau for Political Traitors. Hiding in the cargo bays of vessels, stowing away aboard liners, and appropriating various utility craft, Lokai managed to stay just one step ahead of Bele for almost fifty thousand years... until the Enterprise intervened. On course to the Federation space port planet Arrianus to assist in decontaminating its bacteria ridden atmosphere, The U.S.S. Enterprise intercepted a Starbase shuttlecraft that was reported stolen. Captain Kirk and crew found Lokai inside and treated him for his injuries resulting from exhaustion, Commissioner Bele arriving on board to claim his 'political prisoner' a short time later in a modified scout ship. Kirk and his officers listened to both sides of the Cheronians' arguments; Lokai defiantly claiming to be part of a vast army of fighters determined to free their people from the persecution and laborious misery forced upon them by their oppressors, Bele charging him with dissention and treachery, claiming that Lokai's kind were given the chance to prove themselves worthy of respect and equality but squandered it. Lokai demanded that his (and his kind's) rights be acknowledged and their lives allowed to improve. Bele, coming from a culture of patience and long term thinking, countered with the fact that time was needed to bring their peoples together in equality and cooperation, knowing that Utopia could not be built in a day. Bele was determined to take his captive back to Cheron to the point of taking over control of the Enterprise, using his 'mind push' ability. This technique, one of many his (and Lokai's) people possessed, allowed him to take direct control of navigation and set the ship's course to Cheron. But Captain Kirk persuaded him to relinquish control by threatening to destroy the Enterprise with the auto-destruct sequence if his orders were not obeyed. Bele relented, but not for long. Once the mission to Arrianus was complete, Bele shorted out the directional controls and the destruct program with the electrostatic shield he and Lokai were able to project; an instinctive trait that automatically activated to protect them from harm, including phaser fire. He gained satisfaction in the notion that he would finally bring his prisoner to justice, despite Lokai's attempts to persuade the crew of the Enterprise to help him. But when they arrived in orbit above Cheron, Kirk and his crew found a world that had destroyed itself... and the reason why. The people of Cheron were humanoid, with their internal organs shuffled slightly and some extra ones that channeled energy from any power source directly into their bodies giving them extraordinary abilities. The only other thing setting them apart from the average humanoid was their skin pigmentation, an unusual combination of two colors: off-white and charcoal black. Their bodies were bifurcated right down the middle; Lokai's people, the Mol Bloc, white on the right side, black on the left, while Bele's people, the Mol Drak, the exact opposite. For centuries, the Mol Drak trained and educated the Mol Bloc to be subservient, but came to the realization that there was no real significant difference between the two cultures and strived to rid themselves from the stigma of bigotry and hate, based on mere appearance. And in the end... they failed. The Enterprise's sensors revealed a world that had torn itself apart, its cities left in ruin, its lands scorched and trying to heal themselves with new vegetation that started to encroach upon the abandoned metropolises. Animals of all sorts freely roamed the streets and traffic ways... and absolutely no sentient life forms registering on the surface, the only evidence of which were numerous corpses piled up around the sprawling cities and technological centers. The people of Cheron had annihilated each other completely. Over eight billion beings, dead; the only reason: hate. Shocked at the sight of their world reduced to a corpse, lifeless as the bodies that littered its surface, Lokai and Bele attacked one another on the bridge, activating their electrostatic power in an attempt to further reduce Cheron's native population from two to zero, and almost taking the Enterprise with them. Kirk tried to convince the pair that their struggle was over, that there was no longer any reason to fight and invited them to join the Federation in order to learn what 'peace and mutual cooperation' really meant. But neither of them would listen as they continued to assault each other, their minds clouded in dark whorls of pure hate. Lokai blaming Bele and the Mol Drak for its continued persecution of so-called 'inferior beings' and Bele accusing Lokai and his 'freedom fighters' of starting an all out war, determined to destroy the 'master race'. Lokai left the bridge, spewing hatred towards the Mol Drak and the Enterprise crew for not helping him, and ran to the transporter room with Bele right behind him, hot on his heels and knowing where he was going. Visions of their world, her cities aflame and crumbling and their people battling and dying, ran unchecked through their minds as they charged through the ship's corridors. Finding the room he needed and activating the console controls, Lokai disappeared into the sparkling array of the transporter beam; Bele following him down to the planet surface a few moments later. Kirk and the Enterprise simply broke orbit and left the dead world, still wondering how beings such as the Cheronians, after centuries of advancement, could still be driven and ruled by outdated and useless thinking such as racial hate and bigotry. The tingling of the transporter beam on his skin faded and Lokai, once he got his bearings, found himself in the middle of Hell. All around him as far as he could see, the once sprawling topography of glass and steel towers and spires, with the greens and browns of the countryside beyond, was now a landscape of destruction. Plants of various types grew wild among the crumbled buildings and structures, and animals scurried about in the underbrush trying to forage for food. Streamers of smoke were still puffing from extinguished fires as the remaining rubble smoldered, the result of their races' powerful abilities. And scattered everywhere in the streets, the parks, the lots of abandoned ground vehicles, the lands and hills of the outer countryside... corpses, too many to count in even Lokai's lifetime, which was considerable. Only a few of the many dead bodies that surrounded him were starting to show signs of decay, for one of the 'special' organs they possessed constantly regenerated their cell structure and gave them an extended life span, as long as there was a power source close by to energize it. Since Cheron's sun was now blotted out of the sky by the multitude of black clouds and ash in the atmosphere, their regeneration organs were now drawing power from the abundant geothermal energy the planet produced. Even after death, their cells were being regenerated, but at a much slower rate (the Cheronians would cremate a loved one to finally lay them to rest), and eventually those organs would cease functioning and allow the corpses to finally disintegrate. Lokai kept running, the tear glistening in contrast against the black side of his face, knowing Bele would continue to come after him. He was still fit enough to avoid capture and, if he had to, fight... "I doubt the same could be said for many of his followers" Spock had said on the bridge before Lokai beamed down. The words rolled passed his eyes over and over, taunting him into shame. He just kept running. *** Bele was almost thrown into shock once the transporter beam released him. The readings from the Enterprise's sensors were true; Cheron was dead. Dropping to his knees in the middle of what was left of the mighty city where he lived, Bele pressed his arms against his head, trying to shut out the horrific sight of destruction, and cried out in rage. Composing himself, he looked around him at the remains of tall buildings and powerful centers of knowledge and technology that were nothing more than skeletal spires and burning rubble now. He let his tears flow freely down his dual colored cheeks as he gazed upon the thousands of dead bodies piled up and littering the lots and open areas of the city. All of his people, all of the Mol Drak, dead because of... Anger fired up in his tear filled eyes as Bele rose from the ground and reached out with his mind and mind-searched the area for the only remaining person that could possibly answer for the crimes that were committed, the evidence of which was clearly all around him. Lokai planted the seed of insurrection and it bloomed in the form of the Mol Bloc and their revolutionaries. They were responsible... the traitor was responsible for their world's death; he was sure of it. Bele picked a direction and started walking. *** Lokai ran for almost an hour before he finally had to stop and rest. For weeks... months, he traveled the lands in search of food and water and, hoping beyond all hope, survivors. In every town he came across, the destruction was the same to one degree or another and the bodies of the dead would litter them as grim reminders of battles and defeat for both warring sides. Lokai would find a place to eat and rest for a short while, and then move out quickly knowing that Bele was still pursuing him in his unrelenting, but utterly useless, endeavor to bring him to justice. This last time, Bele almost succeeded in cornering him, catching him off guard while he rested, but he managed to distract him long enough to escape and was once again on the run. He was tired of running, tired of fighting, and... just plain tired, and idly wondered if Bele felt the same. He put the notion out of his head, knowing the kind of mindset that drove him into this unproductive pursuit of justice that had no meaning anymore, and moved on. After three more days of evading Bele the last time they met, he found himself on the outskirts of a small area designated for use by the Mol Bloc; a district neighborhood used for distributing food to larger cities. He slowly made his way towards it, feeling hunger welling up inside him. The town itself was not in as bad of shape as the cities he left far behind him; the buildings and homes basically still intact. The streets and lawns were still covered in bodies, but most were stacked up like cord wood and ready for cremation. But how is that possible, Lokai thought; there's no one left to dispose of them. Who did this? "Stop!" Lokai turned in fright at the sound of the warning, and saw... another Mol Bloc, his face white on the right side and his tunic ripped and smeared with dirt and soot. "Do you have your shield activated?" Lokai was still staring at his countrymen and still not believing that there was someone left alive. "If not, activate it now; there is residual radiation from the destruction of our power plants and it may pose a danger to you." Lokai carefully crept up to his fellow Mol Bloc and asked, "How can you be alive? The Enterprise didn't detect any humanoid life forms." "'Enterprise'?" "A Federation starship that brought me back here; its sensors couldn't detect anyone alive down here." The man looked puzzled for a moment, "'Federation'? Yes, I think I remember that. Our listening posts in orbit used to pick up some transmissions referring to a 'Federation'. Who are you?" "I am Lokai." The man's face twisted in shock and he sputtered, "THE Lokai? The one that escaped from the main city's detention area to start the 'Revolution'?" Lokai smirked a little, "Yes, I suppose I did that... a long time ago." "A very long time ago by our records, or rather what's left of them. We used to study your exploits in school," he stepped closer and extended his hand, "I am Malak, the leader of our district." "'Our'? You mean there are more people still alive?" "Not many I'm afraid; a few hundred or so. Come with me; I will show you." Lokai followed Malak to a large warehouse that used to house packages of processed foodstuffs, and was now home to war weary survivors. The first thing Lokai noticed was the dozens upon dozens of Mol Bloc living in ramshackle rooms made of sheets of whatever material they could salvage, and pallets of food containers set here and there among them. All of the Mol Bloc showed signs of weariness and abuse from the ravages of war, and none of them showed any hint of what anyone would call 'victory' in their eyes. "This is all that's left of our people," Malak said with sadness as they walked through the makeshift hovels, "We mind-searched as far as we could, but no one else answered our call. And when we discovered the small amount of radiation starting to arise, we activated our body shields. All of us are projecting, but at a low level; our power organs aren't absorbing enough power to fully energize us." "But how could the Enterprise miss this many... oh, your shields; of course." Lokai realized that their body shields would render them undetectable by sensor sweeps, just as they protected them against anything threatening. It was a gift from their world, one of many. The material used to render Bele's scout ship invisible was a natural source found in Cheron's crust. That element leeched its way naturally into the soil and hence into the foods and grains they grew. As they ate that food over time and throughout the generations, the element incorporated itself into Cheronian physiology and gave them the ability to shroud themselves from any detection devices. But Malak's words finally got through his speculation and asked, "There's no one else left alive?" Malak shook his head, "No one that we can detect." Lokai looked out at the ragtag group of survivors who were now coming out of their hovels, curious as to whom their new arrival was. But his face froze in an angry stare as he spied the one thing that he didn't expect to see. A member of the Mol Drak, her white left side cheek marred with grime. "You!" he shouted, "You half-blacks destroyed us!" Lokai felt at least a dozen hands grab him before he could reach her, his arms outstretched to put his hands around her throat. Malak, his arm around Lokai's, hauled him away from her, shocked and confused. "What are you doing?" he bellowed. "What is that doing here?" Lokai pointed to the Mol Drak girl. "'She' is one of the survivors." "Ah, a prisoner; good, we'll need her for leverage." "What are you talking about?" Malak was genuinely confused by Lokai's attitude, "She's not a prisoner; none of them are." "'Them'? There are more Mol Drak?" "Yes, about the same number as the Mol Bloc," Malak released him, standing ready to grab him again if he got out of hand. "I see now; they are our slaves, like we used to be." "'Slaves'? There are no slaves here; we are all working together. Why are you saying such things?" They all stared at him as if he had grown another arm out of his chest as more Mol Drak came out into the group, equally confused by Lokai's raving. "I don't understand this!" he shouted, pointing at the collective of Mol Drak, "Why are you cooperating with the enemy?" Malak charged up to him, anger in his eyes, "We are not enemies, not here. The Resistors were our enemies; we destroyed them... and in the process almost destroyed ourselves." "'Resistors'?" Lokai had the look of utter defeat on his face, believing the cause he fought for was pushed to the side and forgotten. Malak guided him over to his private place and away from the puzzled crowd, setting him down and offering him some water and food. "You've been gone a long time, Lokai; things have changed, for the better we thought. But we were wrong." Lokai drank the sweet water and ate the food he was given, listening as Malak explained what happened to their world, starting with a little history lesson. A few hundred years after he escaped, tensions were mounting between the Mol Drak elite and the Mol Bloc revolutionaries, and Lokai's people were driven into action by his heroism and defiance. They were met head on by the Mol Drak forces, who were convinced that the Mol Bloc was too savage and inferior a race to be considered equals. The struggle lasted for millennia, until the day of realization came to be, both sides realizing that their conflict was spawned by racial bigotry, fueled by superficial and unimportant differences. Over time, both sides came together in an uneasy relationship at first, then it blossomed into mutual and trusted friendship, a grand 'cooperative' which lasted for many thousands of years. With their advancements giving all the chance at a better life, they were on the verge of contacting others beyond their star system to further their endeavors to improve technology and learn new things. By chance, they picked up unusual signals from a collective of worlds that called themselves the Federation, and were ready to make contact with and possibly join them in their great alliance. Cheron thrived in a new era like no other in their history. Battlefield Mine But the weeds of hatred and prejudice could not be so easily killed, for throughout the time of great advancement and brotherhood, many small groups of hate mongers still sprang up from time to time. At first, no one took them seriously; they were considered 'unyielding and too set in their ways' and ignored for the most part. And every time a group of people who resisted the coming change of attitude was put down and disbanded, another would spring up to replace them. As time went by, these 'resistors' would gain more power and influence despite the attempts of others to denounce them and their constant, hate spewing speeches. Somehow, their outmoded thinking started to gain ground again; the Mol Drak resistors convincing people with their narrow minded and outdated thinking that their former slaves were still a danger to decent society and must be subjugated again, while their Mol Bloc counterparts continued to rant and rave about their 'cause' and wrapping it up in old, musty, patriotic rhetoric to rally their fighters into action once again. Giving up on trying to convince the Resistors that their 'utopia' had already come to light and that their way of thinking was nothing more than racial bigotry that was as old as Cheron itself, the Cooperative decided to take more direct action. The Resistors' headquarters were ordered emptied and destroyed by the new government, their leaders arrested and their followers disbanded. But the seeds of hate had already been sown and grew into an ugly garden of revenge; its roots far reaching, farther than the Cooperative realized. They had found themselves in the middle of an all out battle between the factions and became one of three fronts in a war that lasted for centuries. Near the end, in an ironic twist that no one could have predicted, the Resistors actually combined their Mol Drak and Mol Bloc forces in an unbelievable act of cooperation to fight and defeat the Cooperative. The shouts of victory were short lived; for once the Cooperative was no more, the Resistors immediately turned on each other and fought to the death, illogical and irrational hate driving their battle to a heated frenzy. And now there were only a handful of people left to bear witness to the ultimate act of stupidity. The resistors, determined to keep their hate driven ideals alive, annihilated each other... totally. The only evidence of that stupidity being the remains of great cities and prosperous farmlands that were now charred relics of a hate filled past... and the almost eight billion corpses that were strewn about like dead leaves after a season change. "We've started to collect the bodies so they can be disposed of," finished Malak. "There will be no threat of disease or bacterial infection from the corpses once they're cremated." All Lokai could do was sit there and shake his head, sadly. Malak put his arm around him, trying to assure him of better times ahead even though he wasn't that sure himself. "Everything you and I have fought for has come into being. We did it; we created a society of love and cooperation for all Cheronians, and it worked." Malak started to cry, "But those who refused to give up their hatred doomed us all. Because of that hate, we nearly destroyed ourselves." "There's no more persecution? No more subjugation or oppression?" Malak hugged Lokai tighter, "The 'cause' was victorious; equality came to light and the people flourished. You did it, Lokai; you started the revolution and won freedom for all." "Not quite all, Malak!" Everyone in the building looked around, wondering where the new voice they heard came from. Lokai and Malak scanned the area, then looked up. Standing on a raised platform of catwalks and access stairs, with his arms folded behind him and a commanding, contemptuous smirk on his face... was Bele. "Judging from the vast number of corpses, your 'revolution' didn't bring freedom and prosperity to everyone, now did it?" "Yes," said Malak, narrowing his eyes at him, "I recognize you from the history records as well. You're Bele from the old Political Bureau; you used to be the High Commissioner, right?" "What do you mean 'used to be'? I still am, as far as I know." "Not anymore you're not," Malak said, carefully edging up to the bottom of the stairwell, "That bureau was dissolved centuries ago; none of the old departments exist anymore, because we no longer had any need of them." "Well," Bele sneered as he slowly descended the stairs, "then it appears I've come back just in time to reaffirm my position." He casually sauntered up to Malak and gave him a once over look, then breezed passed him to face his 'prisoner' once again. "But first things first; I am here to dispense justice against this filthy, traitorous murderer for the crimes of treason and insurrection against the Mol Drak. Since there is no one left alive to prosecute and punish this half-white," the entire crowd of onlookers gasped in revulsion at hearing the outdated and bigoted reference to Lokai's character, "then it falls to me to deliver his judgment and sentence him accordingly." Bele took one, maybe two steps towards Lokai, readying himself for confrontation and possible attack, when Malak interposed his body between the two. "You won't be dispensing anything, Bele." "That's 'Commissioner' to you, you..." "Enough!" Malak roared making everyone jump, and even making Bele back off a step. "Your kind of judgment doesn't exist anymore! Your narrow minded thinking is old and tired, and has no purpose in our society! Your battle is over, Bele; your pursuit of justice has no meaning anymore!" Malak pointed towards the large doors at the end of the warehouse, and continued, "Take a good long look outside, 'Commissioner'," saying Bele's former title with sarcasm dripping off his tongue, "We had a paradise on Cheron; you and everyone like you laid waste to it! Your hatred and bigotry is what destroyed our world, and now you've come back attempting to smash what's left of it?" "I am here to save what's left of it," Bele fired back, "with the help of my fellow Mol Drak!" He waved his hand amongst the crowd, indicating his people scattered within it, "They are now free of your vindictive attempt to pervert their thinking and your influential means of subverting them into believing that they are intellectually equal to an obviously inferior race! We will take control once again and try to restore the natural balance and order of all things, starting with separating them from you half-whites and your subversive brainwashing!" "You miserable, half-black maniac!" All eyes turned to Lokai, who advanced on Bele and was ready to strangle him right where he stood, "Your band of sadistic tyrants caused all of this! You destroyed Cheron just to prove your so-called superiority, and killed everyone around you in the process!" He turned to Malak and the crowd, "I warned you of their treachery! I warned all of you before I left that they would be the end of us, but you didn't listen! You let them lull you into a false sense of security under a disguise of fake friendship and the false promises of a grand alliance... and look where it got you!" "You filthy liar!" Bele shot back, "Because of your savagery and inferior minds, the Mol Bloc destroyed Cheron! You'd rather destroy it all rather than try to co-exist with those who are obviously your betters!" "And if we do, I make sure you're the next one to die, you half-black!" "Impudent, murderous half-white!" Everyone in the warehouse backed away as Lokai and Bele collided head on, each one with their hands around the other's throat. Their electrostatic power flared up and started to heat the surrounding area, threatening to melt anything near them. They both grunted and screamed at one another, until they felt themselves being pulled apart. "That's enough!" Malak had Bele in a halfhearted headlock while two others had Lokai's arms pinned behind his back. "What's wrong with you two? Our world is on the verge of dying... our whole civilization in on the verge of dying, and all you two can do is blame each other and try to kill yourselves?" "Our civilization will die, as long as his kind continues to poison our way of life!" Bele yelled, pointing at Lokai. "If you allow them to subject us to slavery again, our race will surely die!" Lokai screamed back. Malak looked at both of them with contempt and pity, and shaking his head in sorrow, muttered, "You're two of a kind; completely and utterly hopeless. You disgust me, both of you. You," he faced Bele, "with your high and mighty, oh so superior attitude. The only thing superior about you is your bigoted arrogance and your closed minded ignorance." He then turned to Lokai, "And you... to think we admired you for your sacrifices and your so-called heroism. You wanted freedom and justice, but only for the Mol Bloc; you're just as bad as he is, showing your true nature to us and spitting out nothing but hate." Malak turned his back on the battling relics and paused for a moment, then, "You two need to see something; follow me." The pair, along with most of the crowd, got in step behind Malak, still spitting at each other with sour looks. He led them to a room at the rear of the warehouse and quietly opened the door. What Bele and Lokai saw almost made their hearts stop beating. It was a nursery, with six or so cradles fashioned out of small barrels cut length wise and propped up on makeshift supports. Inside each one was a baby, wrapped in smudged swaddling cloths and sleeping and/or mewling for attention. Their skin was colored the same as the Mol Bloc and the Mol Drak, white or black on either side of their bodies; however the tones of the colors were faded. The white coloring had a tinge of ash added to it, and the charcoal black coloring was now a hull metal gray. Lokai and Bele just stared, dumbfounded. "These children were born of both of our races, and none of them will ever know of the horrible stigma of hate that nearly killed us. We won't allow that kind of backward thought to stain their future." Bele backed away from the sight of the children in the cradles and simply uttered, "What have you done?" His accusation was directed at Lokai. "Your race of savages have infiltrated our beautiful society and spawned an indecent herd of inferior, bastard offspring." Lokai turned to his persecutor, an incredulous look in his eyes, "Your race of tyrannical, dictating overlords are the ones that forced my people to sire the next generation of hate spewing war mongers!" With that, the pair again engaged in combat, their power crackling around their bodies and heating up. Malak and the group once again tried to separate the dueling duo, but they both intensified their shields and forced their referees to back away. Malak ordered them to stop, but neither would pay any heed and continued to assault one another. "You'll pay for this abomination, you disgusting half-white throwback!" Bele shrieked as his hands tightened around Lokai's throat. "I'll take you with me, you murdering half-black animal!" Lokai managed to choke out. Everyone backed off the battling pair, knowing their power was insufficient in overcoming their disruptive electrostatic fields, as Bele kept up his assault and not giving an inch. Lokai tried to increase his power output and gain the upper hand against his relentless pursuer, but started to falter. His vision was becoming blurry and his grip around Bele's neck was beginning to slip. He called out to his fellow Mol Bloc for help in defeating their enemy. No one moved. Bele twisted his hands and, with one last grunt of determination and cry of triumph, jerked them sideways. He heard and felt the telltale crack of bone and cartilage, and relaxed his grip when Lokai's body went limp under him, his shield sputtering and winking out in a flash of orange light and his widening eyes rolling back into his head. The crowd of Mol Drak and Mol Bloc circled the still form on the floor, not believing what they had just witnessed. Lokai was dead. Bele stood up and was about to declare his superiority over all when a flash of power flared up around his shoulder. He turned towards his new adversary. "If one side of hatred dies," said Malak, poised and ready to strike again, "then the other side must die with it." He lunged for Bele, reaching for his neck... and then cried out as Bele threw out power from his hands and engulfed Malak in a haze of bright orange pain. Weakened by the years of conflict and the lack of sufficient power to energize his body, Malak discovered that he was no match for Bele's power. Surrounding Malak with electrical death, Bele simply smirked at the Mol Bloc writhing in agony at the end of his hand clutched at his throat. Within seconds, his power fried him from the inside out, and Bele merely dropped his dead body to the floor when it went limp in his grip. "Now that this ordeal is finally... finally over," he sighed, facing the crowd, "we can get back to the business of rebuilding our society... the way it should be. All Mol Drak will take stock of our supplies and dispose of those," he turned towards the nursery with an ugly sneer, "creatures, while the Mol Bloc will begin forming work details. I will give you your duties and assign your tasks as soon as we..." Bele halted his domineering and arrogant ordering. The bodies of the crowd... all of them... were starting to glow. Mol Drak and Mol Bloc alike slowly advanced on Bele, raising their hands and preparing to attack. "What are you doing?" asked Bele in an almost panicked voice, pointing to the Mol Bloc members, "Get back to your places and obey my orders!" Not one of them heeded his commands. "You!" he shouted, "You are my countrymen, my fellow comrades in our struggle against the inferior! You must follow me!" The pleas to the Mol Drak were ignored as well. Bele tried to back away from the advancing horde, but was trapped against the catwalk scaffolding and surrounded by angry survivors. "This world has no place for your kind anymore." said one Mol Bloc. "The hate must end, here and now." said another, a Mol Drak this time. "No... no, you can't do this! No! NO!" Bele shouts of denial turned into screams of anguish as the mass of Cheronians enveloped him in a nova bright haze of blinding pain. Any one of them had no chance of subduing Bele, their weakened condition the same as Malak's... but combined, they delivered a powerful blast of energy that permeated every pore and fiber of his body. One last defiant cry leaped out of Bele's throat as the unforgiving energy licked at his smoldering, two toned skin, then his body was lost in the assault as the light intensified and engulfed the crowd. It widened out to encompass the rest of the warehouse, the nursery being the last to go. The last thing any of them saw was a blinding flash of pure energy. *** "What the Hell was that?" Captain Anthony Dupree bolted from the command chair, staring at the screen in surprise. All eyes on the bridge turned to the main viewscreen, surprise plastering their faces as well. "Ronnie?" At the captain's beckoning, Commander Veronica Sheldon immediately adjusted the sensor controls at the library computer station and peered into the hooded viewer. "Checking, sir." "Ulex, adjust our orbit; keep us above the disturbance." "Aye, sir; adjusting." was the response from the Saurian helmsman, his three arms playing over the helm controls like a concert pianist. "Mr. Pak, contact the scout ships and have them move into position over the disturbance. The more sensors we've got looking, the better." "Aye, Captain," the lieutenant flipped a few switches, then, "U.S.S. Revere, this is the El Dorado; come in." The sensors of the U.S.S. El Dorado, a Constitution class sister ship of the Enterprise, began battering the area of interest, sending readings back through its relays and into the computers for analysis. The Asian communications officer immediately contacted the U.S.S. Revere and Sacagawea, two scout/survey cruisers in orbit with them, and ordered them to scan the surface for anymore disturbances. "The reports said that there wouldn't be any activity on this world," Captain Dupree threw over his shoulder. "If the reports were accurate, there shouldn't be any," replied his science and first officer. She adjusted the hood viewer controls again to fine tune the incoming readings. After receiving the official findings and mandatory reports from the Enterprise, Star Fleet Command ordered an investigation of the planet Cheron and report on any discovery of raw materials that could be used for future ship construction. Captain Kirk reported that Commissioner Bele's scout ship was sheath in, what he said was, 'special materials', rendering the craft invisible to conventional sensor detection. Star Fleet's response to this report was the El Dorado and the two scout ships, sent to scan the planet and retrieve a sample of this 'special material' for further study and possible replication. Kirk's report also mentioned what the ships would find on the surface: ruined cities, an abandoned traffic system, plant and animal life encroaching on the empty towns, a high concentration of residual radiation possibly due to extensive battle... and absolutely no sentient life forms, whatsoever. The planet Cheron, along with all of its humanoid inhabitants, was for all practical purposes... dead. But just as the ships finished their survey and procured their 'special' sample, Captain Dupree's eyes, as well as the eyes of the rest of the bridge crew, widened at the sight of an explosion on the planet surface. Merely a dot from their vantage point, it flared bright orange and ballooned out like a mushroom and, after about five seconds or so, faded to nothing. "Captain," this from Sheldon, "Readings indicated a high concentration of electrostatic energy, a build-up of some kind and released with great intensity." "Source?" "Unknown, sir. Possibly a power plant overload; since there's no one left to keep their engineering and technology maintained, I suspect that it was a power installation. With no one to monitor and maintain its reactor and safeguards..." "...the installation went into 'overload' and... boom." Captain Dupree leaned on the red deck railing and shook his head, staring at the lifeless and dark surface of Cheron. "You're certain there was no one there?" "Confirmed, sir; no sentient, humanoid life form readings. We could send down a landing party with protective gear to double check." Dupree shook his head again, sadly, "No... there's no one there the explosion could have endangered. What would be the point?" Sheldon nodded solemnly, "Agreed, sir." "So... that's that. Status report?" "We have the samples from the surface, as do the Revere and Sacagawea, both report ready for departure. All decks report ready to leave orbit, sir." Dupree nodded to his science/first officer and wearily sat down in his command chair, taking one last, sorrowful look at what was left of a world that should have been thriving and vibrant with a prosperous people... and wasn't. "Mr. Ulex, break orbit," he turned to the navigator, and, "Mr. Randle, set course for Starbase... Four." Dupree leaned his head against his hand, resting his elbow on the armrest, and sighed as the mighty starship tilted away from the dead world and left orbit. He had seen his share of death on many levels, but to see it on a planetary scale... and worse, knowing it was caused by its inhabitants, for no intelligent, logical reason... He doubted he would ever get used to it but, in a flash of insight, he hoped he never would; he never wanted to be that unfeeling. Battlefield Mine In a flash of light, the powerful starships leaped forward into subspace, leaving the planet Cheron and its empty battlefields to its own devices; barren, devoid of hope... alone in the dark.