Definition of friendship

One day, Trelane goes venturing out traveling from reality to reality. Until he sees one he does not like. Christopher Wallis, a private investigatior,had just lost his grandfather and was burning his Star Trek books. Every. single. one. He hated them. Why? His grandfather was ever-so-engrossed in those books.

Trelane wanted friendship.

Wallis wanted family.
started: 11.10.2015.


19. Unnatural circumstance

I awoke clad in a different attire than the one I had been in earlier. The Star Fleet uniform. It was a gray attire that seemed entirely like one piece, much like a cat suit.  I had on black boots. I had metal fused wrist bands. I was sitting down into a wooden chair. I saw there was basic furniture; a desk, a couch, a bed, a lamp on the desk with a pad of paper and a pen, a trash can beside the desk,and a rug to name a few.

There were a couple portraits dangling on the wall that were beautiful and yet . . . very detailed.

I stood up semi-recognizing a pile of burning books in the painting.

I approached the painting.

I came incredibly close enough I could see buildings that  I once knew before. Buildings I had disregarded in my PI days. Wait, I remember, I used to be a private investigator. Prior to being taken to this time by a godly being. Who was it? The flames were so well done. I squinted my eyes to see a familiar signature. Wait. My hand signature! I was baffled. I stepped back looking around noticing the similarities in the pictures around me. My jaw dropped recognizing the image of Ensign Blandish being killed by a crystal spike. His figure was small and distant in the picture like the viewer was looking down a tunnel. I knew it was Blandish because of the two other figures across from him in very recognizable positions. I was comforting Robin.

I turned to see the third image was that of my bed-ridden body.


I rushed out of the door.

Memories came back.

Every single one.

Except for how I got here.

I landed straight into another man and I quickly apologized getting up.

"Why, I am so--" I froze seeing  the man. "Wilson?"

"You bastard." Wilson said.

I took a step to the side letting the man crash to the floor.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked. "What did I do to you?"

"YOU KILLED HER!" Wilson shouted.

"Killed who?" I saw him take out a revolver.

It was almost like time went slower.

"I killed you and I will kill you again for killing my spouse!"

I ducked as he fired then kicked the revolver out of his hand knocking him back against a cabinet. His eyes were full of hate. Hate that I never had seen in a man's eyes. It occurred that something regarding genetic memory and dying is going on. He screamed lunging at my direction. I picked up the revolver then pulled the trigger aiming it right at his chest. Wilson's eyes lost their light and he fell dead to the floor.

I saw a familiar image on the wall across from me.

Of a man.

He held a walking stick.

Who's that?

I should know him.

But I don't recall him.

Zecklini came running down the hall along with a couple other men who looked strikingly familiar. I dropped the revolver then ran in the other direction. My legs had a lot of energy to burn off. I saw a window. I looked over my shoulder seeing the men right behind me. Only one way out. ONLY ONE WAY OUT OF THIS JOINT! I can do it! I can do it! I am going to die! I am going to die!

I leaped through the window then went crashing down what is apparently a cliff side.

"Ah hell." I said.

I outstretched my arm reaching for the  tree branch.

 I held onto hope that  I would make it alive.

My hand grasped onto the hard wooden branch then swung myself onto the top of the branch sliding down Tarzan style. Wow, I still have the adapting kind of swing! I still go it! I shouted, "Woohoooo!" enjoying the breeze rushing past my face. It was like I had been brought into the world of a cartoon. Eventually the wild ride was coming to a end.

A very abrupt end.

Another cliff.

"Ah hell." I said.

I was sent crashed down through the forest getting cuts with sticks and leaves in my hair. I landed right in what seemed to be a village pretty much dizzy. I came to a landing against a wall.  I sat down then closed my eyes regaining my composure. I don't know how long I sat there but it was well enough for me to calm down.

I opened my eyes to see a man who--what the hell.

"Hell--" The man stopped staring at me. "Uh. . . Uh . . . Uh . . ." The man stepped back. "You are not me," His eyes were full of confusion and fear.  It was terror to him.  "You are not me," He stepped back. "You are not me!"

I screamed then fled on foot.

We were the same person, except . . . except . . He had lizard like scales.

I eventually came into what was left of a old building. I came to the corner of the room panting regaining my breath. I looked through the windowless hole. I ducked down once I saw a group of men coming by. I was afraid. So very afraid. What would happen if I got caught? Would I get killed? I was virtually afraid. I wrapped my arms around my knees. I sat there for  god knows how long.

I poked my head out eventually, again, to see there being darkness.

I got out of the building trembling.

The bleeding on the side of my face had long stopped.

I walked out into the ancient scenery.

Then a group of men appeared.

I grabbed a long stick prepared for a fight or that they could be one of Zecklini's goons. I saw that one of the men had on black and red uniform, clearly with hair and a beard. They had on badges similar to the ones I had seen on the uniform for Star Fleet officers. I stepped back with eyes wide. I blinked recognizing the figure.

I recalled the description my grandfather had about a young man from Q-Squared.

It wasn't in the novel because the way my grandfather described him totally wasn't in the writer's voice.

"We come in peace, I am Commander--" The man started.

"William Riker." I finished for him.

Riker stopped, puzzled, raising his eyebrows along with a Klingon.

"And you are Worf," I said. "And you are . . . Oh . . My grandfather described perfectly, Mr Data."

"Who are you and how do you know our names?" Came Worf.

"I . . ." I started to say.

"I am afraid I cannot do that," A familiar voice said in my memory. "Not part of the game rules."

"My name is Christopher Wallis and I am afraid. . . that I am a clone." I said.

And I strangely felt ill enough to fall straight on the floor letting go of the piece of stick.


"Christopher Wallis died a long time ago," Came a woman's voice. "And he is a clone, Doctor Crusher."

"A clone. . ." Came another woman's voice. "It has never been done before."

My eyes forced themselves open to see plain whiteness at first until the plain yellow scenery came to.

"Hello," I said,my voice sounded horse. "Ensign. . . Security. . . Of The USS Pagemaster."

I saw  a red head and a young Asian woman exchange a shocked look.

"Are you sure?" The Asian woman asked.

"I am . . . positive."  I said.

"There is no such thing as the USS Pagemaster." The Asian woman said.

"Yes, there is!" I shouted. "I . . ." I could feel my throat was dry. "I am a clone. I am a clone.  I have been cloned. I have been cloned. We were stranded ten years from the federation. 2366. Captained by Rosewood Jean. . . Vorn."

I closed my eyes wincing in pain.

"Why was I cloned? Why?" I asked. "Why?"

The doors opened to reveal young Riker and a guy who was bald. 

The bald guy on the bookcover.

"Captain," Crusher said. "This clone is dying."

"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the--"

"Enterprise. . ." I said. "I know. . . I want you. . . to please . . . Tell me the Pagemaster made it back to the federation."

The captain appeared to be puzzled.

"There was no Pagemaster."

"Captain Rosewood Jean Vorn."

"Rosewood. . . He died in 2269 due to a Klingon attack."

"No. . ." I said. "This isn't . . .real. ."  I looked over toward the captain. "I am not . . making this up."

"How long have you been on the planet?"

"I was just. . . awoken. . ." I said. "It has occurred to me that . . ." I briefly closed my eyes. "That I was on a planet going through the space time continuum.  . . Do you know. . of. . . Q?"

There was dead silence in the room.


"He has a son."

The captain appeared to be surprised.

"He has a son?"

I weakly nodded.

"His name. . . is Trelane. . ." I cleared my throat. "He brought me  . . . to this. . . universe."


"The first question he ever asked me."

"Which was?"

"Do you want . . . to be. . . my friend?"

"And what did you say?"


I closed my eyes and I entered into darkness. My life ended there.


I awoke clad in a different attire than the one I had been in earlier. The Star Fleet uniform. It was a gray attire that seemed entirely like one piece, much like a cat suit.  I had on black boots. I had metal fused wrist bands. I was sitting down into a wooden but chipped chair. I saw there was basic furniture; a wooden desk, a tan couch, a bed, a lamp on the desk with a pad of paper and a pen, a metal trash can beside the desk,and a unusual colored rug to name a few.

There were a couple portraits dangling on the wall that were beautiful and yet . . . very detailed.

I recognized every one of them.

Then  Zecklini entered the room.

"Hello, Wallis," Zecklini said. "This is your new home."

"This isn't my new home."  I said.

"Yes, it is, and your life depends on staying inside this facility." Zecklini said.

I leaned forward with a growl.

"I prefer to die a free man." I said.

I paused remembering something. 

"This planet is very weird, captain." Wilson noted.

"It is," Vorn agreed, then he flipped out his communicator. "Johnny, beam us up."

I stood there anticipating to beam up but I didn't.

"Glad to see that my tinkering worked." Zecklini said.

I looked over toward Zecklini then search around for my communicator.

"I destroyed it," Zecklini said. "While you were . . ." Zecklini pressed a button with a grin. "Out of commission."

I glared at Zecklini with a growl.

"Don't growl at me, mr poopy face," Zecklini said. "It is not my fault you are interesting and very unusual."

I took out my phaser. 

"Now, don't do that!" Zecklini said.

I pressed the trigger.

Nothing happened.

"I told you not to," Zecklini said. "Oh, they'll be back, trust me and by the time I am done with you. . . I won't be needing you anymore. I will have my own line of specimen . . . and this planet will be populated by my own utopia."


I felt dizzy.

I had drank something.

Something that wasn't what I had been told earlier.

"Nighty, night, alien." Zecklini said, in a creepy voice.

I growled back at Zecklini.

"Where is the original?" I asked.

"The original is dead for all I am concerned," Zecklini said. "You are a fascinating subject, Mr Wallis, in either time and space. I mean this planet is so unpredictable that a landing party would find it difficult to prosecute me for illegal cloning!"

I grabbed Zecklini by the neck.

"How long?" I asked.

"Ninety-nine years for you," Zecklini said. "Five thousand years for me," He grinned. "You heard me right. I am the original and so very much alive, your friends can't help you. If you leave this planet. . . You will die. If you will leave this facility, you will die. If you go outside the perimeters around this facility you will die. You will die without proper knowledge to ensure your survival."

"What are you?" I asked.

Zecklini smiled.

"I am a human," Zecklini said. "Advanced, more advanced than any other version out there."

"How many times has this happened?" I asked.

"Twice. . . I am surprised," His eyes were daggers of hate. His words were dripping in a cruel tone. "I thought I had gotten rid of the disobedience gene and self will. You were supposed to stay in this room, not move a inch until I came in, but nooo you had to get out and shoot another clone and die!" Zecklini sounded so bitter and disappointed. "I believe he was called Wilson."

I threw Zecklini to the ground.


"In exchange for the original, why yes," Zecklini said. "They refused to leave without you. . .Don't you realize? You have been dead for a year. The Enterprise has long left. I brought you back and treating me this way is your worst mistake. I have paired you up plenty of times and I always get a mix-breed, no fuss, no arguments, no fights, no rebellion, and nothing like you are!"

My hands clenched against my palm so much so that my fingernails coulda' pierced through drawing blood.

So contrary to the constitution.

Treating me like a piece of property.

"I am a American," I said. "A freely living being with entitled rights!" I stepped forward. "You have infringed on them in every single manner possible. I wasn't able to speak when you first abducted my original self and I represent every clone out there who don't know the truth." I paused. "Did you pair me up with women?"

"Yes, almost always."


"You one time fell for the engineer and didn't procreate. Neither did he! I didn't understand what  was wrong. He was supposed to procreate. . . But no, you had to settle down with a man and neither of you cheated! CHEATED! That happened the first time around I made the clones. You both died as oldies. . . Well, of course I sent them out into shuttles far away when they were young men and when they returned. . . their bodies remained. Including very detailed logs. I was surprised they survived for years in space encountering other races.  And coming back to finish the journey? That was so unexpected."

"What was his name?"

"Johnny, I believe."

"You asshole!"

I punched Zecklini sending him down.

"You lied to me  that if I leave this planet that I will die and apparently there is a different cause!" I said.

"That was only after I put some certain restrictions and made them dependent on their environment." Zecklini said, rubbing the side of his face.

"I will not rest until every clone knows they are a clone." I said.

"Warn a entire populace that their nation originated from clones?" Zecklini asked. "I don't think you want to do that."

"Oh, give me a good reason why not." I said.

"They are your great descendants and I engineered them to be perfect. Utterly perfect. Flawless." Zecklini said.

"Has it not occurred to you that . . . .Life will find a way?" I asked. "Like it did for me? I am not flawless." My fingers rolled up into fists.  "I am not perfect." I went toward the door keeping the anger to myself. "Unlike what you think I am. . . I am no monster. I am no caged specimen. I am no murder. I am a American."

I opened the door then exited it and slammed it behind me with a hard thud. I put a chair underneath the handle to prevent it from moving. I was going to reveal to everyone walking around that they were clones. Funny thing it reminds me of a movie made decades ago featuring Tom Cruise about clones and this entire fictional paradise island that really was death for the clones. I stepped back listening to the door rattle. I turned away hearing a familar voice from behind my shoulder. I saw there being a man, the same man from the transporter room. He had freckles, black hair, and a unusual face that made me wonder if if his original self hailed from the Philippines.

"Johnny?" I asked.

"Yes?" Johnny said.

"Who am I?" I asked.

"You are that lizard guy, and please, call me John. Johnny is a nickname. Only my friends call me Johnny." Johnny said.

"You are a clone, John," I said. "Everyone here are clones!"

John raised  a eyebrow.

"'What?" John said.

"We were cloned. We all dead. Our original selves are likely dead, damn it!" I said.

"Okay, now you lost it, lizard man," Johnny said. "You should see the doctor."

"LET ME OUT!" Zecklini shouted.

"Hey, that's the Doctor--"

I punched out Johnny  then I ran down the hall. Whatever happened next was a blur. I found myself in what appeared to be a laboratory with chemicals inside viles, machinery with glowing red insides burning intensively. I had been running and going into random rooms during my flee to not notice where the hell I am. I saw that the door was locked. I also noticed 'dangerous chemicals and connective facility core'. So it is connected to several facilities in fact.

If the captain had originally allowed everyone to be cloned, perhaps he was assured the action taken by the Doctor would be undone by some sapient clones in the future. It was bound to happen. I saw several buttons aligned on the wall underneath words representing the facilities. I pressed numerous of these button doing hell knows what. Then the room turned red.

"Self destruction will be imminent."  The computer wailed. "Please evacuate."

I shoved the viles off the table.

I could smell the odor to these viles contents melting the floor and densing the air. 

I went out through the other door into a room.

A room where there were plenty of tubes holding completed and developed people.

"What . . . the. . . . hell?" I said.

Some of them were children.

Children first.

I smacked the red button to every machine with children. The children were sucked out of the container where they landed in a pool of water curled up in fetal position, naked. I forced them up telling them, "I am saving your lives!" Some of these children appeared to be strange. Some had pointy ears, a few had ridges on their forehead, and other unusual specific facial features but the majority were humans. Let them be damned for being outside dying  not just because they were supposed to. Maybe these are different genetically created children. We speed out of the building. The vast group they were.

I held the hand of the smallest boy while holding the little girl in my other arm.

We came into the forest where we could hear explosions all over the place.

I came down to my knees feeling a sudden weakness in my chest.

"'Are you okay?" The little girl with black eyes asked.

They were purely black. 

They were not dying.

I was.

"Do you feel all right?" I asked.

"Yes." The little girl said.

"I want you to know. . . The Doctor . . . is a evil man . . ." I said. "Older man. Crazy, eccentric, and a very big ass-hole." I put my back against the tree bark where  I could see due to the gap of the trees of a familiar shape. One I had seen mostly on TV. I smiled. "It hasn't been a year." I could see the little girl was changing colors becoming transparent as were the rest of the children. "My name. . . is Christopher Wallis. Thirty-two. Assigned. . on the USS. . . Pagemaster." 

The little girl held my hand.

"Hello, Christopher Wallis," The little girl said. "You are safe now."

"No. . . You are safe now," I said. "I . . . Did it."

As my scenerys changed and the ground trembled where smoke was coming out of the ground (where a majority of the children had vanished),I thought of how well I had just blown up the most clone inhabited planet. It had to be logical that I blew up a planet. The leaves were burning. Trees were falling  with a loud crack. I closed my eyes feeling  myself getting weaker and weaker.

"I redeemed myself,Captain Kirk."  I said.

And then I died.


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