What had they called themselves? The Galactic Alliance? No. The Consortium? No, definitely not that. Oh yes. The Federation

“So, you are telling me, this Federation is no threat to the safety of the free people of the United States of America?” Herbert asked in his deep Southern accent that had been exacerbated by his years of smoking cigars. However, even his husky voice could not mask the unbridled suspicion.

One of the figures, clearly the leader of the delegation, adjusted itself slightly towards the light. Hebert winced as he saw the reptilian nature of the alien’s face which revealed itself under its hood for a moment. The large tapering fingers clasped together rhythmically and speaking in perfect English:

“No. Mr President. We are but diplomats.”

“Diplomats, huh? Well I’ll tell you what we do to any illegal aliens who trespass into the beautiful United States of America.”

The threatening and boisterous voice did not belong to the President. It belonged instead to the warmongering advisor to the Secretary of Defence, General Anthony Sheridan. Only a few months prior, General Sheridan had been personally responsible for the massacre of thirteen Mexicans who had attempted to cross the border. Of course, that made him the perfect choice to serve in the Adams administration. The Bible Belt votes demanded it.

“Mr President, our delegation would like to express our confusion at your hostilities,” the leader of the diplomats rasped, “we gave our details, our historical events and even a showcase of our technology to one your people. We thought he would inform you of our arrival.”

“Who did you tell?” Herbert’s mind crossed through his entire cabinet. Could they have told Mark, the Vice President? No, it can’t have been Mark, they had just spent a weekend together filled with debauchery and drinking. How about, the Secretary of State? Lloyd? Yes, maybe it was Lloyd. Lloyd had been refusing to answer Hebert’s calls for the last few days. At first Herbert had assumed it was a political power play, but now maybe it was something far more sinister.

“We informed our arrival to a human male who called himself Gene Roddenberry.”

“Who the fuck is Gene Roddenberry?” General Sheridan screamed at one of his aides, ultimately causing a ruckus of arguing and shouting throughout the room. Roddenberry was sure to be fired.

“Roddenberry, never heard of him sir”.

“I am certain Roddenberry is part of Senator Smith’s team.”

“No you idiot, that is Roddenstein and he was eaten alive by a lion during hunting trip to Botswana two years ago.”

The insults and shouts filled the entire room. The delegation from the Federation were closely observing this behaviour. Savages, they must have thought. Gene was a good man, simple but good. Nothing like these band of fools.

In a dark corner of the room stood an ambitious young long-legged blonde woman. This young woman was no fool. She was perhaps the only human in the room that had a borderline acceptable level of intelligence. It is not to say she was clever. No, she would often forget to blow out the incense candles littered across her personal office in the White House. It was her obsession with incense candles that caused two grand scale governmental evacuations. Of course, some may have thought she was also a bigger fool for crossing the First Lady, the President’s wife. You see, the diamond earring that were left so carelessly in the Oval Office, belonged to her. The hours spent being the President’s aide spilled over into a steamy affair. But, she didn’t mind. She was going places and if that meant being the President’s piece of meat, it was fine. The young woman fixed her horn-rimmed glasses before speaking.

“Gene Roddenberry created Star Trek.”

The room felt silent. Everyone gazed at this woman. But it was as if the substance of her words had no effect on any of them. They were more concerned about the other particulars. Why on Earth was she in the room? Who let her in? Where can I also get a hot aide?

“Not now Camilla,” the President hushed at the woman.

“Mr President, I am a Trekkie and there is only one Gene Roddenberry I have ever heard of, and he created Star Trek.”

Herbert looked at his many advisors. They returned an equally confused look.

Camila addressed the aliens directly.

“Excuse me sir, are you a Klingon?”

The alien nodded in delight. Perhaps Gene Roddenberry had completed the task that they had given him after all.

“And you, are you Romulan?”

There was growing excitement among the delegation.

“Mr President, I have a suggestion,” Camila turned her attention to Hebert, “I think Gene captured all the knowledge imparted to him in his television show.”

Herbert stared at his hands for a moment. What was happening? Had this Gene Roddenberry really stored all galactic knowledge in a stupid television show?

“God damn it! Someone find all the episodes of Star Wars. We have work to do.”

“It is Star Trek, sir.”

​

[PART 2]