Star Trek Hunter Episode 22: Sacrifice

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Continued from Episode 21: The Enemy of My Enemy

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 22: Sacrifice

Episode 22 – Sacrifice​

“There exists in the psyche of every social animal an urge to give its life to a magnificent predator in an act of all-consuming passion – a deep desire to be devoured and obliterated by a powerful carnivore in a blinding orgasm of pain. In intelligent species, this desperate desire is often derided in its recreational guise of masochistic carnality as sexual deviancy while simultaneously celebrated in its religious incarnation of self-sacrifice as a virtuous submission to the will of a higher being. But both of these phenomena are at root unconscious expressions of the social animal’s instinct to suborn its own need for individual survival in order to ensure the survival of its herd.”

Dr. Mlady – Ethical Sentient Predation – A Predator’s Guide to the Ethical Hunting, Husbandry and Harvesting of Intelligent Prey Animals.






Crew of the U.S.S. Hunter: (Ship's Interactive Holographic Avatar - Hunter)

At-Large Appellate Justice, Captain Minerva Irons (On Leave.)
Chief Executive Officer - Commander Kenneth Dolphin (Acting Captain.)
Chief Operations Officer - Lieutenant Commander Mlady (On Leave.)
Lt. Commander Napoleon Boles (Acting Chief Operations Officer.)
.
Medical Director - Commander Tali Shae (On Leave.)

Assistant Medical Director - Lieutenant Jazz Sam Sinder (Acting Medical Director.)

Ensign Sif.

Forensic Specialist - Midshipman Kunto Wekesa (nickname is Kit Wekesa.)
Emergency Medical Hologram - Dr. Raj.
Tactical Medical Hologram - Dr. Kim.​

.
Director of Flight Operations - Lieutenant Commander Gaia Gamor.

Assistant Flight Director - 2nd Lieutenant Ethan Phillips.

Navigator Johanna Imex.
Navigator Auqa’rh’lth.​

Ensign Chelna Zusa.

Chief Flight Specialist Thyssi zh’Qaoleq (last name rhymes with Chocolate.)
Flight Specialist Dih Terri.
Flight Specialist Winnifreid Salazaar.
Flight Specialist Jennifer Hopper.​

.
Director of Ground Operations - Lieutenant T’Lon.

Assistant Ground Ops Director - 2nd Lieutenant Tolon Reeves.

Chief Tactical Specialist Rumi Grace.
Tactical Specialist Dasare Eba (rhymes with Cabaret Nina.)
Tactical Specialist Veri Geki.
Tactical Specialist Ranni Neivi.​

Ensign Eykirros Jones (nickname is Ike Jones.)

Investigator Buttans Ngumbo.
Special Agent Anana Lynarr, Trantor Police Intelligence Division (temporary assignment.)​

.
Director of Engineering - Lieutenant Moon Sun Salek.

Assistant Engineering Director - 2nd Lieutenant Sun Ho Hui.

Midshipman Carlos Datsun.

Transporter Engineer Dragomut.​

Ensign Geoffrey Horatio Alstars.

Chief Flight Engineer Yolanda Thomas.
Flight Engineer Thomas Hobbs.
Flight Engineer Tomos.
Flight Engineer Kerry Gibbon.​

 

[Bynar0110]

So Boles is acting XO?

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

So Boles is acting XO?

No. Unlike Irons, Dolphin is not in a hurry to fully staff the Hunter. He is carefully putting pieces in place. For the moment, he is serving in both roles (acting captain and XO.)

Thanks!! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 22: Sacrifice
Scene 1: The JAG Fleet

22.1
The JAG Fleet​

“I am maintaining my command until I am formally decommissioned, but as I will be on shore leave for the next several months, Commander Dolphin will effectively be in command of the U.S.S. Hunter.”


Justice Minerva Irons was addressing the Hunter’s crew, who were gathered in the large conference room in Starbase Eleven. A portable holographic emitter array had been erected in the conference room so that Hunter, Dr. Kim and Dr. Raj could also attend along with the rest of the crew.


Behind Irons was the mural of the Hunter’s former crew members: Lt. T’Lok Smith, Flight Specialist Joey Chin, Investigator Lynhart Shran, Lt. Commander Sarekson Carrera and the Hunter’s previous tactical squad - Tactical Specialists Jarrong, Belo Rys, Belo Garr and Belo Cantys – the four of whom were currently on Ocean serving as lifeguards. A new painting – also by Lt. Napoleon Boles and in the same style, displayed Heroic Heart caricatures of the late Commander David Pepper and Lt. Commander Tauk. Boles had depicted Pep in Klingon armor, seated in the command chair of the giant first officer's last command – the klingon bird of prey, I.K.V. ‘Iw Hov - with Tauk standing next to him.

The U.S.S. Hunter was once again in dry dock, undergoing extensive repair to the hull, which had been damaged when a layer of ionized iridium had been burned off, creating micro-fractures in the aluminum from which vital oxides had been leeched.


“I will be taking terminal leave and will retire from Star Fleet at the end of that time. The U.S.S. Hunter has already been transferred back from the Federation Tribunal to the Office of Judge Advocate General, under the general command of Admiral Urban Yasutake. Welcome to the JAG fleet,” Irons continued. “Since I have chosen not to give up my command, regulations require me to serve my last two weeks on active status onboard. I do not plan to return to this ship until then. Until then, Dr. Dolphin will operate as acting captain and my quarters will be his quarters. We have a number of other crew changes, which I will call on my Executive Officer to commemorate. Kenneth?”

Commander Kenneth Dolphin stood up, surveyed the crew, some of whom would be departing immediately following this meeting for new assignments. Others were newly assigned to the Hunter. “Let me start by again commemorating our friends, Commander David Pepper and Lieutenant Commander Tauk, both of whom gave their lives in the line of duty. We have already celebrated their lives and their service, but at this meeting, because we are talking about changes to our crew, it would be impossible to even begin to describe those changes without taking another moment to miss them and acknowledge the giant hole the death of each of them has left in our lives.”

Dolphin fell silent for a few moments. He observed the reactions of the crew members and was once again grateful for the exceptional artistic talent of Napoleon Boles. The comic/heroic poses of Pep and Tauk in Napoleon’s painting of them somehow captured the best part of their spirits and helped the crew realize that their friends were not entirely lost to the universe. A part of them remained and their likenesses would continue to be seen and (thanks to Napoleon’s talent) admired by Star Fleet crews stationed at and passing through Starbase Eleven.


Seventeen seconds. For most other Federation species, a moment of silence could be longer, but for humans the optimal amount of time was seventeen seconds. And most of the Hunter’s crew were mostly human.


Dolphin took a deep breath, looked up. “I want to congratulate Chief Flight Specialist Dewayne Guth, who, after 20 years of service, is retiring from Star Fleet and has taken an assignment as ambassador to the giant waterbirds for the City of Pern on Cun Ling. Dewayne, I could not be more proud and we are all happy for you. May I be the first to say congratulations, Ambassador Guth. I want to express all our best wishes for this next chapter in your life. In helping to ensure the survival and welfare of an entire intelligent species and their culture, you have already become a hero among our people, and you have admirers in the highest levels of Star Fleet and the Federation Council. You may well be the longest remembered of any of our crew.”

There was sporadic, then growing applause for the Hunter’s veteran shuttle pilot. With some prodding from his fellow pilots, Guth stood up. Only those who knew him well could tell that he was blushing - the subtle spots from his trill parentage stood out just a little more than usual against his dark skin.


A tall, skinny, teenaged girl with pale skin and short, mousy brown hair was sitting at the front of the room. When Dolphin gestured to her she stood and turned to look at the Hunter’s crew – and to be seen by them. She looked far too young to be wearing a Star Fleet uniform.

“I want to introduce our new primary shuttle pilot, Jennifer Hopper. Following basic training, Crewman Hopper has spent the past six months on the Earth-Mars route. I am transferring her from Star Fleet Space Command to the JAG Office and promoting her to Flight Specialist. The U.S.S. Hunter will be her first deep space assignment.”

Next to Jennifer Hopper was a green-skinned klingon with bundles of coal black hair. She stood up and turned and smiled sweetly – despite her klingon features, she was clearly also part orion, which seemed to account for her pleasant demeanor as well as her skin color. “Navigator Auqa’rh’lth* will replace our friend, the debonair Eli Strahl, who has taken an assignment with the navigation department of the U.S.S. Ark. Eli, I hear there are more than 150,000 women, both Star Fleet and civilian, who will be serving on the U.S.S. Ark – on behalf of our crew members who will very much miss your attentions, may I just say – happy hunting…”


The room exploded with laughter. Eli was well known for his well-received dalliances with several female members of the Hunter’s crew.


“Dr. Chrissiana Trei has taken a promotion to serve in the medical department of the U.S.S. Ark. I am pleased to announce the promotion of Midshipman Sif to Ensign – Ensign Sif will be staying with us. And we have a new Forensic Specialist, Midshipman Kunto Wekesa – Dr. Wekesa…” Dolphin gestured to an impossibly tall, thin young man seated in the front row. Midshipman Wekesa had jet black skin – even darker than Gaia Gamor.

“In our engineering department we also have a number of changes. First, I am happy to announce the promotion of Yolanda Thomas to Chief Flight Engineer. Yolanda will remain with us, but Midshipman Tammy Brazil – newly promoted to Ensign and Transporter Engineer K’rok – newly promoted to Chief Transporter Engineer – will both be leaving us for assignments on the U.S.S. Ark. Please allow me to introduce their replacements: Midshipman Carlos Datsun and Transporter Engineer Dragomut.”

Carlos Datsun was clearly of Japanese descent. Transporter Engineer Dragomut had an oddly shaped head and it was impossible to determine his/her gender. Subtle crenellations below the eyes were offset by stronger layers of ridges above the eyes leading to an elongated forehead that tapered back to a long, high, cone-shaped skull. Subtle variations of yellow, purple and blue on the engineer’s forehead created a crown-like appearance. Dragomut’s skin appeared supple, but somehow also had a shell-like quality. Neither male, nor female, Dragomut radiated a knowing sexuality that was sexually stimulating to nearly every member of the Hunter’s crew. Uncomfortably stimulating.

Dolphin registered this discomfort and had prepared for it. “Just so that all of you can feel a little more comfortable, I talked with Dragomut and our new transporter engineer agrees with me that it would be a good idea for me to make a few things clear with respect to language usage. Dragomut is an imoginette. I don’t know what you might have heard about these people, they are members of the Federation, but rarely seen outside of their homeworld. Imoginettes do not have gender the way most of you are familiar with the concept - their gender changes with their mood. You may use either male or female pronouns, but please do not use the pronoun ‘it’ when referring to the imoginettes as this translates to an inanimate pronoun, which Dragomut’s people consider to be a grave insult. My recommendation is that you avoid using pronouns entirely. This could make grammar a bit tricky, but I think we would all prefer awkward sentence structures to awkward silences.”


Dolphin looked about, waiting to be sure his crew worked all of that out before continuing. “Both Dr. Tali Shae and Lieutenant Commander Mlady will be taking leave here, on Ocean, for at least the next month,” said Dolphin. “In light of which, Dr. Boles will continue in his role as acting Chief Operations Officer and Dr. Jazz Sam Sinder will stand in as acting Medical Director.”

“Also, I have two more promotions to announce. Napoleon, Gaia, please step forward.”

The Director of Flight Operations and the half-bolian epidemiologist both stepped forward.

“As you know, hollow pips often come with a history. Napoleon, this was Midshipman Sif’s pip.” Dolphin attached the pip next to the two full pips on Dr. Boles’ collar. “Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Boles. Gaia - this pip came from Tauk’s collar. It was once on my collar, and before me, Dr. Tali Shae wore it.” Dolphin attached the pip to Gamor’s collar. “Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Gamor.”

“Finally, I want to thank Rear Admiral Burton for facilitating the repairs on our ship. It will be ready in ten hours. At that time I want all hands at duty stations, ready to launch. Dr. Tali Shae and Mlady will be remaining here on Ocean, but we need to deliver Dewayne to Cun Ling, then we have another delivery to make. So if you want to hit the waves down on Ocean, you have nine hours. Get going! Dismissed!”



* Auqa’rh’lth (roughly pronounced “Ah-khah-rrruh-ulth.” The apostrophes in the Klingon language indicate glottal stops.)

22.1 (of 15)


​

 

[Bynar0110]

Excellent chapter RBS.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 22: Sacrifice
Scene 2: A Little Tune-up

22.2
A Little Tune-up​

“So you now have an imoginette on your crew? Boy are you going to be grateful you docked your ship in my maintenance bay, flyboy…”


It seemed ages since Commander Kenneth Dolphin had laughed at all, much less until he nearly doubled over. Even her worst jokes had him falling apart – which was in part because he had been under so much stress and in part because Commander Holly Nash had a superb sense of comic timing.


“Oh, that was just terribly corny…”

“Eh, you were due for a little tune-up… I’ve heard rumors about the imoginettes – that’s going to be more stimulating than having an orion slave girl on board. But then I’ve heard stories about the Hunter’s crew having to deal with everyone going into sexual overdrive before. Now you have to tell me why you so emphatically preferred my quarters to yours…” Nash got up to fetch a drink. She didn’t have a beautiful face and her body was blocky and strong, not exceptionally feminine. What made her attractive was kind eyes, a quick mind and a naughty sense of humor.


And a tendency to make the first move – which, Dolphin had to admit rather ruefully, was the one thing all the women he had been with had in common.


“Well, for starters, you have an actual bed,” Dolphin observed. “And your rooms are almost as big as the entire deck my quarters are located on. Then there’s the avatar…”

Nash was pouring a drink in the next room. “Avatar?” she shouted back.

Dolphin craned his neck to look at her. “Almost three years and I’m still getting used to serving on an artificially intelligent ship. Wherever you are on board – whatever you’re doing – Hunter is always watching. It gets a little creepy sometimes. Even more because I actually like him..”

Nash clambered back into bed, handed Dolphin a glass of strawberry-pineapple wine. “No replicated drinks in my quarters. Only the best for my boyfriends.”

“A girl has to have her standards…” Dolphin smiled.

“My standards are pretty basic. You just have to fit my profile: male and no less than three full pips on your collar - no more than four.” Nash tapped her finger lightly along Dolphin’s collarbone. “You meet the requirements, so I’m your girl in port when you’re at this Starbase.”

“You have a thing for captains and first officers,” Dolphin relaxed, took a drink.

“Captains and first officers are married to their ships. It keeps things simple. We can have fun for a few nights and I don’t get those creepy, lingering stares wondering whether I’m the one…” Nash trailed her fingers down Dolphin’s chest.

“You’re not looking for the one for you?” Dolphin asked.

“Well, I am chief of staff for Rear Admiral Burton. I can’t very well go having affairs with anyone on my crew. Kind of like you in that respect.” Nash drained her glass, then laid back down next to Dolphin.

“Well, there are about 4,000 civilians down on the planet,” said Dolphin. He took a long drink.

“Yeah, but most of them are vulcans and you know what they’re like,” said Nash. “Fun for a night, but then they tend to fall in love and they get all clingy and emotional…”


Dolphin blew strawberry-pineapple wine all over the bedding, dropped his glass, spilling the rest of it and nearly died coughing and laughing.


“And now you will be replacing my sheets, Commander...”

The U.S.S. Hunter’s first officer, still laughing, started to get up to comply only to get pushed back down by Starbase Eleven’s first officer. Nash climbed on top of him.

“But not just yet, flyboy…”

22.2 (of 15)


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[Bynar0110]

I hope flyboy stays out of Garbage compactors.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

I hope flyboy stays out of Garbage compactors.

STH does borrow from Star Wars - in tone as well as some tropes. Thanks!! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 22: Sacrifice
Scene 3: Passengers

22.3
Passengers​

The all-crew meeting had ended precisely at 4:30 hours, Star Fleet Standard Time (which was set throughout the fleet to correspond with North America Central Time to synchronize with the time at Star Fleet Headquarters in Dubuque, Iowa.)

Commander Kenneth Dolphin stepped through the port airlock onto the U.S.S. Hunter at 14:27 and onto the bridge precisely at 14:29 hours. His acting second officer, Lt. Commander Napoleon Boles, stood up from the captain’s chair. At 14:30 hours, Dolphin took his seat.


“All hands onboard plus three, all moorings released,” Boles reported.

“Ensign Chelna Zusa, take us out, one-quarter thrusters,” Dolphin commanded. He turned to look at his blue 2nd officer. “Plus three?”

Boles looked at Dolphin. “Ambassador Guth, Justice Irons and…”

At that moment the door to the captain’s office opened and disgorged the most powerful man in the Alpha Quadrant – the impossibly tall, thin, white-haired, impassive Ushi Irons.

“Him,” Boles concluded.

“Doctor Dolphin,” intoned Ushi, “I had heard that you take a very disciplined approach to command.”

“Thank you, Esteemed Council Leader,” Dolphin replied. “If you would please give me a minute?”

Ushi brushed his long, wispy white beard to the right, gave the slightest inclination of his head.

“Navigator Auqa’rh’lth,” said Dolphin, “Make our course for Cun Ling. Ensign Zusa, when ready, engage at warp 13.75.”

Napoleon Boles leaned back against the safety railing that divided the main section of the bridge from the rear stations. He looked up at Council Leader Ushi Irons. “You might want to hang on to something, sir. There will be a little bump…”


The bump from dead stop into recursive warp at factor 13.75 was more psychological than physical. There was a definite feeling in the deck plates, but it was the view of the stars blurring in that particular way that was still disorienting even to the veteran crew of the U.S.S. Hunter.

It almost felt as though the Hunter and its crew were suddenly being extruded deep into space. What was actually happening was the Hunter was compacting spacetime around it, then, by means of the reverse entropy bubble on the backside of the recursive warp field, zipping the damaged spacetime back together.

Ushi Irons took this transition in stride, then turned toward Dolphin and said, “At your convenience, Commander.” He walked back into the captain’s office.

Dolphin stood up. “Napoleon, you have the con.”

“Aye sir,” Boles responded.


Dolphin entered the captain’s office to find Justice Minerva Irons half reclined on the couch. Ushi was standing near the false wall behind which lurked a dormant borg. Dolphin took his seat behind the captain’s desk, not certain if Minerva’s son was aware he was standing only a foot away from a slumbering borg, separated only by a false bulkhead.


“Things look a little different from behind that desk, don’t they, Kenneth?” asked Irons. “It seems there is a bit more gray in your hair than when we first met. It doesn’t look bad on you.”

“We have less than 47 hours to meet Sela’s deadline,” said Ushi.

“Which we will meet with time to spare,” Dolphin replied.

“I remain… curious about your… delivery plan,” Ushi said. “I understand your Ph.D. is in ethics. You appear to be offering a sacrifice.”

“More like sending in a canary,” Dolphin replied.

Ushi’s mother watched their exchange as though she were watching a tennis match.

“A high price for probing your antagonists’ intentions.”

“A timely and potent demonstration of ours.”

“A heavy weight on narrow shoulders.”

“Tempering a new asset.”


“Would you two cut it out?” Minerva Irons asked in exasperation.


“It remains a topic of unresolved interest,” said Ushi.

“It’s done,” Dolphin replied. “I think Minerva wanted to address our larger issue.”

“I cannot promise the Council will agree to hand over the Al Donovos and Al Jenova star systems to the Romulan Star Empire,” said Ushi. “In fact, I cannot imagine even getting just my coalition to vote for it. I have a hard enough time getting these people to do what they actually want to do.”

“Then you have to make them want to do it, Ushi,” Minerva said. “I think it’s time to tell them about Admiral Scumuk’s research. We now have telemetry of gamma waves working their way through the far end of the Romulan Star Empire…”

“So you want to admit to these secret missions you have been running into romulan space?” Ushi asked. “As long as this information is restricted to the Security Committee, it will remain secure. But once the entire Council is informed, even under strictest secrecy, it will get out.”

“It is going to get out, Ushi,” Minerva replied. “Supreme Commander Sela will make certain of that. Our choice is a stark one. We can either help preserve the Romulan Star Empire, or face open war with them.”

“This course of action would put both Trillus Prime and Betazed within striking distance of romulan aggression,” said Ushi.

“This is one reason why the Ark is only the first of its kind,” said Irons. “By the time we turn those star systems over to the romulans, we can have one of those fortresses in orbit of Trillus Prime, one at Betazed and another within striking distance of New Romulus on Vulcan.”

“Which would put us on a permanent cold war footing,” Ushi summarized. “We would be maintaining the peace through a balance of arms instead of negotiated strategic positioning. It is a very precarious course of action. Everyone will be operating with hair triggers. It would greatly increase the chances of the Federation ending up in an unwanted war with the romulans.”

“Ushi, somehow or another, we have to make this happen,” Minerva said. “I will be promising those star systems to Sela within 72 hours.”


“How about we try using the truth?” Dolphin asked. “I know, it’s a novel concept, but it might make for a refreshing change.”

“I have been a politician for more than 50 years, Doctor Dolphin. I’m no longer certain I even know what that word means anymore,” Ushi observed dryly.


“We have been trying to protect everyone from the reality that the only force that can provide a future for life in the Alpha Quadrant is the borg,” said Dolphin. “Everyone sees the borg as a death force, but they were actually created to preserve life. The truth is we know dangerously little about the borg. Especially about what has happened to them since Admiral Janeway destroyed their transwarp conduit. One of the few things we do know is that there once was a borg stronghold on the other side of the Dead Zone in the Beta Quadrant, beyond romulan space. We have to get an expedition there. We need free passage through romulan space to make contact. It is also reasonable to assume the romulans know a whole lot more about the Dead Zone, the projected movement of gamma radiation extermination throughout the Alpha Quadrant – all these things – they have to know a lot more about them than we do.”

Minerva and Ushi Irons were just looking at him, so Dolphin continued. “Think about it – the romulans have been building those enormous ships and putting planetary environments inside of them. They’re still dependent on planets, but they are transforming themselves into a culture of interplanetary nomads. Given a few more generations, they could abandon their planet-bound populations and just drift through space, gathering energy and resources from one solar system after another – mining as they go – taking what they want. It has to be what they’ve been preparing for. This is their solution to the Dead Zone. Let them build enough of those ships and they can conquer their way through the Alpha Quadrant, staying ahead of the gamma radiation until they just outrun it.”

“Our plan, on the other hand,” said Minerva Irons, “is to preserve all life in the Alpha Quadrant – and as much in the Beta Quadrant as we can. There is no way we can do that without the romulans. We can’t manage the borg and fight a full-scale war with the romulans at the same time.”

Dolphin nodded. “Everyone sees the romulans as weakened. But they have never been so dangerous. They’re caught between us and certain death. When the time comes, they will fight like cornered animals. We have to make them believe there is a better way. We have to make everyone believe there is a better way.” Dolphin dropped his fist onto the desk with a thump.

“Ushi,” said Minerva, “The romulans could take Betazed and Trillus Prime whenever they want to. Eventually, they will take those planets. It isn’t a matter of if – it is a matter of when. If we can successfully transplant Saketh into the Al Donovos and Al Jenova star systems, it may put off that romulan aggression by as much as a hundred years or more. If, on the other hand, we let Saketh die, the romulans will take Trillus and Betazed. They will need them for their own survival.”

22.3 (of 15)


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[Bynar0110]

Wow, dark times ahead.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Wow, dark times ahead.

To put it mildly...


Author's Note: Why do promotions come so quickly in Star Trek Hunter?

STH takes place during a 10-year rebuild of a shattered Star Fleet in the wake of the Dominion War, which destroyed or incapacitated nearly half the fleet and had the highest death toll in the history of Star Fleet conflicts. Well over 6 billion dead (Cardassia Prime taking by far the most casualties.) Star Fleet's losses were in the tens of thousands - combined with all other Earth forces, well over a quarter million Earth Gov service members were killed in combat.

As a result, Star Fleet is desperate for officers and the opportunities for promotion have never been better - especially with new ships being built at a record pace and the introduction of long-range interceptors - tiny, two-seat fighter craft that are warp capable thanks to miniaturization of hundreds of ship systems.

Commandant Barrett th'Zoarhi, the youngest Commandant in the history of Star Fleet (also the first andorian and the first Canadian to hold that job) is unique because she came up through the Quartermaster division and never commanded a starship - serving only briefly on one. She was put in charge because of her ability to organize a massive rebuild of the fleet.

Admiral Jamaal El Fadil, also the youngest ever Chief of Staff for Star Fleet, instituted a massive recruitment campaign, specifically targeting hybrids and also the massive bolian population. As COS, El Fadil has to approve all promotions to Commander or higher. Commandant th'Zoarhi has to approve all promotions to Captain or higher.

Judge Advocate General Admiral Urban Yasutake has an even more challenging job - building the first ever JAG fleet - which is so desperate for skilled officers with any legal background that the rules for promotions have been relaxed even more.


rbs

 

[Will The Serious]

well over a quarter million Earth Gov service members were killed in combat.

As a result, Star Fleet is desperate for officers and the opportunities for promotion have never been better

So true in wartime.

- Will

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 22: Sacrifice
Scene 4: Shuttle Diplomacy

22.4
Shuttle Diplomacy​

The U.S.S. Hunter barely paused a dozen lightyears outside the A Boo star system to deliver Dewayne Guth and Ushi Irons to Cun Ling. But it was an unusual operation. Guth piloted the wagon (an uparmored shuttle designed to be used with Prowler class starships). After leaving the Hunter’s shuttle bay, the wagon docked with a small, personnel shuttle that had been waiting to rendezvous with the Hunter. The shuttle pilot, a tellarite named Brath bavClovirg, transferred from the shuttle over to the wagon to return to Pern with Guth and Ushi Irons. Flight Specialist Jennifer Hopper transferred from the wagon to pilot the small, unarmed shuttle which she then docked in the Hunter’s shuttle bay.


Another 14 hours traveling at unprecedented speeds brought the Hunter to the edge of Vulcan space. Justice Minerva Irons stepped onto the short-range personnel class shuttle. These were the smallest shuttlecraft in service, only large enough to accommodate four people. Two of these craft could easily fit in place of the wagon in the Hunter’s shuttle bay.


As she sat down next to Flight Specialist Hopper, Irons felt ancient. It was her 160th birthday. Even though she was only a quarter vulcan, Irons had aged exceptionally well for her first 15 decades. It was really only the past few years that she had started to look and feel old. And her pilot, who had only enlisted in Star Fleet eight months previously, was not even 19. She looked like she might be 12.

They were waiting. Flight Specialist Hopper had gone through the pre-flight check twice, but there really wasn’t much to check. These shuttles were extremely simple by design and did not carry much in the way of computer systems or anything else that needed checking out. By design, the short-range shuttles were nimble, but neither particularly fast nor stealthy. This craft was designed to carry people back and forth within a solar system at low warp speeds. They only rarely exceeded the speed of light.


“I have to ask you again if you are ready to take this risk,” Irons said, watching the young pilot closely. “I am afraid we might be sending you into a life of hard labor under the romulans. One from which rescue might not be possible.”

“Commander Dolphin asked me that question when he recruited me, your honor,” Hopper replied. “He recruited me specifically for this assignment - taking you to stand trial on Vulcan. He told me to simply assume the worst is what is going to happen. I have left a message for my family.” Hopper looked down. “Sometimes you have to die to learn how to live.”

Irons’ eyes widened a bit. “That is a klingon proverb. Who told you that?”

“Commander Dolphin.”

Irons made an amused noise. “He got it from David – Commander Pepper – a dear friend of mine. David used to say that on occasion.”

“What do you think they are going to do to you?” Hopper asked.

“Well, at my age, I’m not really worried about it,” Irons said. “I had hoped to spend my waning years on Ocean. Given what we’re headed into, I think those years may have become weeks, now.”

“Do you think you can make a deal with Empress Sela?”

“Don’t let her hear you call her that,” said Irons with a warning look. “It is Supreme Commander Sela. She may want that scepter, but she does not pretend to it. Actually, your fate will probably give us the best answer to that question.”


At that moment Commander Kenneth Dolphin’s voice came through the comm system: “We have confirmed that the U.S.S. Tracker has left vulcan space. Flight Specialist Hopper, you are cleared to launch. Safe travels, Mr. Hopper.”

The shuttle bay door opened. “Commander, this is Flight Specialist Jennifer Hopper, confirming we are good to go.” With a deftness that came as much from talent as from experience, Hopper eased the shuttle from the Hunter’s shuttle bay and headed into vulcan space.


“Your accent sounds familiar,” said Irons. “Do I detect the sound of the Bronx?”

“Street hockey, backyard baseball and boiled hot dogs,” Hopper replied. “I was there just last week to visit my parents before taking this assignment.”

Irons smiled. “Why did you enlist?”

“I don’t know. I got restless. Had to do something. I want to get involved in hybrid advocacy,” Hopper said.

“Hybrid advocacy? That sounds like a new thing. When I was a child,” Irons made an amused noise, “more than 140 years ago, being a hybrid was… exotic, special. I got the princess treatment. I wouldn’t have identified you as a hybrid.”

“I don’t have the look. It skipped over my father too,” Hopper said. “But my brothers and my baby sister have it. They’ve gotten bullied for it. By adults – who should know better. Last year I saw this subspace radio program and I guess it made me want to just meet a lot of hybrids and being a shuttle pilot on the Earth-Mars run seemed a good way to do that. Just getting to know people. I was wanting to go directly into advocacy, but when I heard that program with that Harvard professor, it just made it seem like the issues were far more complicated than I had realized. I wanted time to just think about it all. I must have read through Doctor Dolphin’s books a dozen times. I didn’t even realize Commander Dolphin was that Doctor Dolphin until I met him.”

Irons laughed. “I will tell you a secret – and don’t you dare let this get back to Kenneth until I am confirmed to be in my grave so it doesn’t come back to haunt me…”

Jennifer Hopper crossed herself.

“Roman Catholic?” Irons asked.

Hopper smiled. “Family tradition. I am from the Bronx, after all. But my dad told me the whole universe is Roman Catholic… He had this recording of a dozen different non-humans chanting – and it all sounded like it was in Latin. Even the binars – although in their case it sounded like mouse-Latin – or like mice squeaking in Latin... So what is this big secret?”


Irons stretched. She straightened her neck with some difficulty. “Just before I took command of the Hunter, I heard a rumor there was this hot-dog test pilot named Dolphin who was impressing everyone at the Utopia Planetia Shipyards – and I verified that it was, in fact, the one and only Dr. Kenny Dolphin of Harvard fame – or infamy. I pulled a few strings, had a number of the most experimental craft reclassified so that only Star Fleet officers would be able to fly them and the flight masters at UPS enticed him into going to Officer Candidate School because they wanted to see him flying the birds they had designed. I kept the Director of Flight Operations position on my ship open until he qualified for it and then recruited him onto the Hunter. He doesn’t know this, but it was no accident he ended up on my boat. Or in Star Fleet, for that matter.”

“Why did you go to all that trouble?” Hopper asked. “Did you, like, know that he was going to be a great officer or something? The philosopher pilot?”

Irons laughed. “That’s the real secret – why I did it… I did it on a whim. Because it amused me. I had a ship full of hybrids and I wanted to see him interact with them. And them with him. No big underlying motive. I just saw an opportunity to make things interesting on my boat. It turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made. I wish I could take credit for how well it worked out, but I really just did it for the hell of it.”

22.4 (of 15)



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[Will The Serious]

Leela!

-Will

 

[Bynar0110]

Are we heading into Futrarama territory?

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Are we heading into Futrarama territory?

Nope. More like Old Testament...

Thanks!! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 22: Sacrifice
Scene 5: The Great Waterbirds of Pern

22.5
The Great Waterbirds of Pern​

The most powerful man in the Alpha Quadrant, the scion of two ancient and powerful Chinese families - one from Hong Kong and the other from Shanghai - was in a boat in the middle of a large lake, wearing a plaid flannel shirt, cutoff blue jeans that revealed pale white legs that had never seen the sun, and dirty white deck shoes without socks. His long, white hair was bundled under a blue ball cap that had a fish hook in it and bore the words “I’d Rather Be Fishing” in faded white letters.

Which was precisely what Ushi Irons was doing. His long, wispy white beard spilled into his lap. In his hand was a fishing rod, the line was in the water – a red floater bobbing on the surface. Other than his hair and beard having long ago turned from black to white, his skin and his fine, Chinese features betrayed almost no evidence that he was almost as old as his three fishing companions put together – a retired Star Fleet pilot, a teenage vulcan girl and a middle-aged Filipino woman who was the hops-master of a local brewery – she had provided the beer for this outing. She also happened to be the mayor of Pern, one of the 15,000 Cities of Cun Ling.


Four lines in the water. Four impassive fishers silently watching their lines. Facing four different directions. Four bottles of lukewarm beer being worked down slowly. A large bucket contained three fish on ice.


High above, four enormous waterbirds glided the thermals between the land and the edge of the lake, watching the water. They spotted what they were looking for and dived in sequence.


“There!” said Maa, the teenage vulcan, alerting her (more-or-less) human companions to the giant waterbirds as they went into their dive. As Maa, Ushi Irons, Dewayne Guth and Mayor Tala Ocompo watched, the birds leveled out slightly as they approached the water, skimming the surface in the distance in formation at tremendous speed. Then all four entered the water simultaneously, only to come thrusting their way out of the water and into the sky, each carrying an enormous fish. The fish were fighting so hard that each bird’s flight pattern was altered and they had to fly away from each other to avoid being thrown into one another by the weight of the struggling fish held firmly in each bird’s talons.


With evident effort, each bird struggled to carry its fish into the sky. Once they were over the rocky beach, each bird dropped to an altitude of about 2 meters before dropping its fish onto the rocks, then flew up and swooped back down to carry its stunned ichthyoid prey skyward once again, toward their mountainside lairs.


“Got another one,” said Ushi, his rod bending under the weight of another fish. He quickly began reeling it in as Mayor Ocompo picked up the net scoop.

“Fish seem to like you,” said Guth. “That’s three for my one and zero for the ladies. Are you certain you’ve never done this before?”

Ushi worked with Ocompo to bring the fish in – a large variant of a trout. Once the fish was in the bucket, he picked up and drained his beer. “I have only ever made fun of this activity. I never expected to enjoy it.”

“Destim will have a fire ready for us to cook these,” said Maa. “We will want to get there soon so we can watch him and his spouse feeding the babies.”

Guth took the wheel and steered the boat toward one of the tall mountains that ringed the lake. The electric motor was nearly silent as it brought the boat up to speed – skimming across the lake on skids as its speed lifted the hull out of the water.

Ushi and Tala began cleaning the fish, preparing them for cooking. Maa expertly gutted them, then placed each prepared fish into an individualized bag that contained oils, herbs and spices to flavor it in preparation for cooking.


As they approached the mountain, Guth slowed the boat, allowing the skids to retract and the hull to settle back into the water. He steered the boat into a cave. It took a few moments for the passengers’ eyes to adjust to the dim lighting inside the cavern. They travelled about a thousand meters into the cavern, following its twists and turns until they arrived at a small marina inside the mountain that supported about 20 boats. Guth and Ocompo tied the boat to one of the underground piers. Ushi picked up one of the coolers – Guth picked up the other. Maa slung the bags of fish over her shoulder as Mayor Ocompo led them to an elevator.


It was a long, dark, quiet and somewhat fishy-smelling elevator ride up to Destim’s nest near the top of the mountain. As they stepped out of the elevator, they could smell, then hear, see and feel a bonfire warming part of the nest and providing a column of aromatic smoke. Four chairs had been set out for them. In another area of the nest, Destim Ski and his mate were ripping bits of meat from an enormous fish and feeding them to their man-sized squawking fledglings – three of them.


Ushi Irons settled into a chair, handed a beer to Mayor Ocompo and one to Dewayne Guth as Maa began cooking their fish. “On occasion I have found all the politics – the water I swim in – has become tiresome to me and I wonder why I go to such effort to get people to do what they should be doing anyway. This is why. So I can share a beer and a kettle of fish with a vulcan, a local mayor, a retired Star Fleet pilot and a family of giant talking birds.” He took a long pull of his beer and began laughing quietly.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, sir,” said Guth. He got up and pulled two large bottles out of a nearby cabinet – each bottle nearly half his size – and with Mayor Ocompo’s help, wrangled them into an open area. Destim Ski and his mate, Ressa Nih walked over as Guth and Ocompo uncorked the bottles.


Although they were called waterbirds, Destim and Ressa appeared to be more closely related to pterosaurs. They walked as quadrupeds, using what appeared to be their elbows as well as their heavily clawed feet, their claws clicking lightly on the rock floor of their rookery. They were not feathered and relied on heavy flaps of skin for flight.

Destim Ski closed his beak around the bottle, holding most of it in his mouth, then tipped it upward to drink from it. His mate followed suit. They made odd, appreciative noises as they drank.

A Boo - the star around which this planet orbited - was setting in the west and the planet’s brightest moon, Liu, was growing brighter in the east. As the sky grew dark, Ushi could see the glow and twinkling of hundreds of home fires on a mountain nearby, across a part of the lake. These lights were reflected in the water between the two mountains.


“Mayor,” said Destim Ski in his deep, resonant voice, “Your jala leaves a very pleasing after image on the palate.”

“It compares favorably with the jala on Cophus II,” Ressa chimed in. Her voice was equally low. The only way Ushi could tell male from female was that Destim Ski had a brightly colored crest near the back and top of his head that would open to reveal brilliant colors depending on his mood.


An incredibly deep, resonant sound began somewhere much lower on the mountainside. Other voices joined in, creating a sound like a great celestial pipe organ clearing its throat. Destim Ski lifted his beak, opening it wide, adding his voice to this enormous bass choir. His crest deployed fully – iridescent blues, greens and yellows reflecting the firelight. Then Ressa joined in – the sound was incredibly loud – vibrating Ushi’s chest.

Gradually, softer, higher voices joined the chorus. At first, Ushi assumed these were the fledglings, but the fledglings remained silent. As Maa started singing, Ushi realized he was hearing vulcans singing with the giant waterbirds – then with a shock he realized they were all singing in Vulcan – their song a joint product of vulcan and waterbird culture. The poetry was vulcan. The incredibly dense and complex harmonies and melodies were unlike anything he had ever heard. Ushi could almost feel new neural pathways being created in his brain simply to handle the complexity of this music.

The poetry was neither descriptive nor narrative – but evocative – suggesting a long lost childhood when the very concept of words themselves was new and wondrous – not a daily working reality, nor a lens to be seen through, but wonders in their own right. Then the song died away…


Only to be taken up from another mountain. In the distance, Ushi could hear hundreds more vulcans and waterbirds picking up the song and the poetry and carrying them forward in an act not of recitation, but of creation.


It was a wonder that his more than 80 years of life, travel, discovery and discipline had never prepared him for. The Federation’s most devious politician sat back in his chair in this mountainside rookery, stunned by this new experience, tears in his eyes, a look of wonder on his face, a forgotten bottle of beer slowly growing warm in his hand.

22.5 (of 15)



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[Bynar0110]

Excellent chapter.

I can see the old testament influences in this chapter.

 

[Will The Serious]

What a great visual. The image of these giant, prehistoric looking waterbirds hosting a party of Vulcan's and humans in their "living room" with an open fire and drinking beer. I would like to see the film produced version.

Excellent chapter.

I can see the old testament influences in this chapter.

And I see something reminiscence of Hindu gods, aspects and avatars.

-Will

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

...I can see the old testament influences in this chapter.

To quote Ambassador Guth, "You ain't seen nothing yet..."

What a great visual... I would like to see the film produced version... And I see something reminiscence of Hindu gods, aspects and avatars.

Thanks for the kind words! I wanted to show a universe full of spine-chilling horrors - but also full of wonders worth fighting to preserve - even at enormous self-sacrifice. Which both Ushi and his mother are about to make.

Definitely some influence from Hindu mythology - and a lot more of that to come...

Thanks!! rbs